Helltown - Jeremy Bates Page 0,84
medical school student. I’m supposed to be attending microbiology and pathology on Monday. I’m supposed to be studying all week for Dr. Mann’s exam on Friday. I’m supposed to be a doctor one day, helping people, saving lives. I’m certainly NOT supposed to be strapped to an altar and sacrificed to the devil.
A gong rang, reverberating loudly. Then organ music began to play, what sounded like corrupted church hymns.
God, it’s happening, it’s started, it’s really happening!
Jenny thrashed so violently the rope securing her limbs sliced into her skin. Warm, syrupy blood spilled down her wrists, her ankles.
Abruptly two of the men appeared before her. One wore a black hooded robe that concealed his face, the other the habit and wimple of a nun.
Jenny shook her head from side to side, screaming, but the gag in her mouth turned the screams into a muffled whimpers. Sobs wracked her body.
A third man appeared between the other two—the leader with the beard. He wore the same navy blazer, crisp white shirt, and red and yellow striped necktie he’d had on before.
The hooded man rang a bell nine times. The leader raised his hands, palms downward, and began chanting in Latin.
And right then something inside Jenny snapped with a dry, delicate whick, and she believed this to be the sound of one losing their mind.
Cherry could close her eyes but she couldn’t close her ears, and she was forced to listen to the horrible organ music and chanting and wild shrieks—and near the end of the ceremony, the grunts of pleasure from the men as they mounted Jenny one after the other.
And Cherry knew she was next. They were going to gang rape her like she was a piece of meat. The irony of the situation was not lost on her. She had spent her entire life following the Roman Catholic decree to abstain from sexual intercourse before marriage. She had upheld this edict even as she worked for a sleazy massage company with men propositioning her on a daily basis. Yet now she was going to be violated a half dozen times within the span of minutes—all on the altar of a Roman Catholic church.
If God had a sense of humor, He would surely be laughing at this. And suddenly Cherry was furious. How could He sit by and let this happen to her? If He was so omniscient and omnipotent, how could He let horrible acts of savagery like this occur in His creation?
She knew the answer. The last several hours of horror had pulled back the curtain on life and shown her the cruel truth.
God was not sitting on His throne in heaven in all His glory, surrounded by His angels, beckoning for her to join Him at His side.
God didn’t exist, He was dead, and very shortly she would be too.
After Spencer plunged the ceremonial sword into the blonde’s chest to conclude the black mass, he turned to the assemblage and said, “I must admit, gentlemen, I have enjoyed myself thus far immensely.”
“And we still got one more,” Earl said excitedly.
“That we do.” Spencer stroked his beard thoughtfully. “Cleave, what would you think about leading the next mass?”
“Me?” Cleavon said, surprised.
“You don’t want to?”
“It ain’t that. It’s just…I don’t know none of that Greek mumbo jumbo.”
“Latin mumbo jumbo. And the mass doesn’t have to be led in Latin. You can recall most of the English parts can’t you?”
“Sure…probably.” He shrugged. “I guess.”
“Then you’ll do fine.”
Cleavon cocked an eye suspiciously. “Why you offering to let me lead the mass?”
“It seems in our excitement we forgot to post a sentry out front the church.” A brief uproar followed this announcement, which Spencer promptly cut off. “Calm down, gentlemen. Calm down. We simply won’t make the same oversight twice.”
“I’ll go, Mr. Pratt,” Jesse Gordon said. “I don’t mind. The old pecker’s not what it used to be, and I’m not sure I could get it up for another go anyway.”
“Thank you, Jesse,” Spencer replied, “but my libido isn’t what it used to be either. Also, to be perfectly frank, without my robes and headgear I don’t feel comfortable leading the mass. The psychodrama is not at the level it should be.” He started walking toward the double front doors. “Collect yourselves, gentlemen,” he added over his shoulder. “Take your time with her, enjoy her, for she will be our last sacrifice for some time.”
“You holler you see that girl!” Cleavon called.
“You’ll hear me.”
Outside, beneath the black, weeping sky, Spencer went to the Volvo,