Read The Devil's Demeanor Online
Authors: Jerry Hart
The Devil's Demeanor
The Devil’s Demeanor
Jerry Hart
Copyright © 2013 by
Jerry Hart
All rights reserved.
No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without
permission from the author.
This book is a work
of fiction. The names, characters, places and incidents are products of the
author’s imagination or have been used fictitiously and are not to be construed
as real. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, actual events, locales or
organizations is entirely coincidental.
Cover artwork by Wil Whalen
Kindle Edition: June
2013
Table of Contents:
Stephen White
had to be dreaming. He was in some kind of tunnel barely big enough to fit his
large frame, wearing his favorite pajamas. This place stank of decay. He could
see his way through easily enough because there was a light coming from up
ahead. An opening, hopefully.
He didn’t
remember how he got here. He just was, all of a sudden. Either someone had knocked
him out and put him in this tunnel, or he was dreaming. He prayed for the
latter.
Continuing down
the tunnel, Stephen couldn’t help remembering the thing that had bitten him the
week before. Is it even possible to remember something in a dream that had
happened to you in your waking life? He’d been out with a group of friends,
looking for evidence of the supernatural in the woods of Destin, Florida.
He had found
something all right, but still wasn’t sure if it had been supernatural.
He’d been drawn
to a cave by a seductive voice. He had become separated from the others when he
discovered the cave at the bottom of a hill, and therefore, no one had heard
the voice for themselves.
“Are you an
alien?” Stephen had asked the large, dark figure in the cave.
“Come closer
and find out,” it replied in a guttural voice that had a hint of an English
accent.
Stephen figured
there and then it was not a creature but a man, maybe homeless. “Sorry, sir.
I’ll leave you alone.”
“Nonsense. Come
closer. You may be surprised what you find.”
Against his
better judgment, Stephen had stepped closer. The figure backed farther into the
cave. Stephen had been too overcome with curiosity to walk away from this thing
without finding out what it was.
He was a big
teenager, not athletic but still strong and stocky, and he figured he could
handle whatever waited for him. Oh, how wrong he turned out to be.
His friends had
seen the bite marks. The creature disappeared as quickly as it appeared.
Stephen hadn’t even seen it when it attacked. One second it was there, and the
next it was gone. Deeper into the cave, Stephen assumed. A lightning storm had
appeared the instant he’d felt the pain.
The Great
Northeast Blackout had been only two months before, and a lot of people,
Stephen included, thought it had been caused by extra-terrestrials. UFOs had
been spotted up there before the blackout. Stephen’s friend, Larry, thought it
would be a great idea to look for a reported “portal to hell” here in Destin.
Why? Well, because his sister’s best friend’s cousin had heard of the portal in
this area, that’s why.
It was 1966,
and Stephen was in his senior year of high school. He would be going to college
in the fall, and wouldn’t it be a gas if he, Larry, and some friends went out
looking for strange activity before Stephen shipped off?
Stephen hadn’t
been too into the paranormal or extra-terrestrial until Larry had put the idea
into his head. He hadn’t believed in ghosts, demons or aliens until that thing
bit him and disappeared. He wished it was a wolf or a crazy hillbilly living in
the woods, but he would come to know it was neither.
He crept
through the dream-tunnel that so resembled the real Destin tunnel until he saw
the end up ahead. He stepped out and found himself in a large cavern.
Stalactites pointed down from the ceiling, which stretched from right to left
as far as the eye could see. He appeared to be on the edge of a large cliff. He
looked down and saw nothing but darkness. The light he’d followed came from
both sides of the cavern, around large corners, so Stephen couldn’t see the
sources.
He wanted to
yell to see if anyone else was here, but feared he would alert something
unpleasant to his presence. The cavern gave him a bad feeling, and it wasn’t
just because of the awful smell.
He looked to
his left and saw a single stalagmite sticking up from the ground. It looked
phallic and repulsive, and he wanted to stay away from it. He walked up to it
anyway, placing his left hand on the tip, where it glowed from within.
Almost
immediately, Stephen wanted to let it go. Images flashed into his brain. They
had been so brief he could barely remember what they’d been. He let go, his
hand hovering over the tip. He took a deep breath and touched it again.
The images
returned, slower this time. He saw hideous beasts that looked like giant bats
rampaging across a vast land. The gray sky was full of lightning, which struck
down upon the creatures. Some died, while others managed to dodge the strikes
and continue on.
They appeared
to be headed toward something, but Stephen couldn’t tell what at first. He
continued watching the horrifying scene. He realized he was floating over it,
the lightning missing him completely. He could smell burned flesh, however, and
the thunder nearly deafened him.
As he continued
to watch, he saw the bat-creatures dive into a hole in the middle of the field.
They piled in like water down a drain. Two of them tried to get in at the same
time but only managed to bump into each other. They pushed, looking ready to
fight, when a lightning bolt struck one of them dead. The other dove into the
hole, and the scene was over.
Stephen let go
of the stalagmite, his ears ringing.
That’s when he
heard the noise. It sounded like flapping wings. Bat wings? He looked to both
ends of the long cavern and saw shadows dancing on the walls. Something—a whole
lot of something—was coming his way from both directions. He turned back to the
tunnel and ran. He ran for his life, even though he didn’t know where this
tunnel led. He did know hell lay behind him.
*
*
*
Stephen woke up
to the sound of his heart hammering in his ears. He was breathing so fast he
thought he would pass out, but he managed to slow it down a bit. He was in his
room, in Pensacola, not Destin. The covers were now beneath him, though he’d
fallen asleep with them on top. He was an hour away from that cave where he’d
been bitten.
Why did he
dream about it, then? He figured if he’d gone farther inside the cave that
night, he would’ve encountered the hole in the ground, the one the creatures
poured themselves down, and found himself in that narrow tunnel. But that area
wasn’t a vast landscape like the one in the vision. Maybe he saw the past when
he touched that stalagmite.
Or maybe none
of it was real.
Though he
hadn’t seen the creature the night of the attack, he saw the others fairly well
in the vision. They had looked like man-sized bats. That couldn’t have been
what had bitten him; he wouldn’t have survived an attack from a monster like
that.
He got up from the bed and
headed to the kitchen. The nightmare left him ravenous. He grabbed some ham
from the fridge, some bread from the pantry, and made a sandwich that consisted
of way too much mayo. He was about to take a bite when he noticed someone
standing in the adjoining living room, staring at him.
“Dad!” he yelled in shock.
“What are you doing up so
late?” Dad asked, stepping into the kitchen. Willem White was forty going on
ninety. Stephen couldn’t understand why his father aged so badly and hoped it
wasn’t genetic. Stephen prayed to God to never let him get as old as his
father.
“I couldn’t sleep,” Stephen
replied. “Nervous about school.”
“I’m the one who should be
losing sleep; I’m paying for it.” Dad grabbed a jar of pickles from the fridge
and joined Stephen at the island. “I hope I raised you well enough to know how
to act while in college. No hard partying, alcohol or girls.”
“No girls at all?”
“Well.... Just be careful
with the girls.”
Stephen laughed. Then he
winced at the bite on his shoulder.
“What did you say you were
doing when that animal attacked you?” Dad asked.
Stephen grew nervous. He’d
lied about the circumstances; the last thing he wanted was for his dad to know
he’d been walking through the woods with a bunch of kids, looking for aliens.
“I was walking with Larry in his neighborhood and some dog ran up to us.”
“And Larry’s parents weren’t
home?”
“No, but he took me to the
hospital.”
That last part was true.
Stephen hadn’t said anything about the bite when he got home, though. Dad had
found out purely by accident when the marks bled through his T-shirt the next
day.
“If you survived a dog
attack, I guess you can survive college,” Dad said, grinning.
“I am a grown man.”
“Not yet, son. Not yet.”
He finished his pickle, told
his son goodnight, and left the kitchen. Stephen threw the rest of his sandwich
away, his appetite completely lost. He loved his father, but the man rarely had
an encouraging word to say. At seventeen, Stephen wasn’t thinking about having
kids, but he figured when he did have them he wouldn’t be as cruel.
He
went back to bed, but just before his head hit the pillow, he noticed something
on his right hand. It was slightly red, with indentations around the palm. He
was reminded of the stalagmite he
’
d grabbed.
But
that had just been a dream....
*
*
*
Over the next few weeks,
Stephen
’
s
nightmares grew worse. He didn
’
t dream about the cavern very often, but he did dream about
killing and raping. He was pretty sure he
’
d never done either in his life, so why dream about such
things? He didn’t recognize his victims, but he did recognize what he was doing
to them. In one dream, he was holding a woman down by the throat, punching her
in the face. They were both naked. In another, he was stabbing a man in the
back, over and over. He could smell the blood. In each dream, he always said to
the victims, “One less of you to worry about. One less.”
He pondered this while
standing in line at the local movie theater. He was waiting for Larry and two
girls
—
this was
supposed to be a blind double date
—
and wasn
’
t
looking forward to the night. Larry didn
’
t have the greatest taste in women, and Stephen feared what
he would end up with.
“
Hey!
”
a voice screeched next to
him.
Stephen jumped and turned to
see Larry standing there. The first thing anyone noticed about Larry were his
coke-bottle glasses with their big, black frames. He was five-foot-five and
skinny as a broom. Ladies seemed to like him, however.
Speaking of ladies, the two
with him were quite stunning. One was a brunette, the other a redhead.
“
Larry,
”
Stephen greeted.
“
Ladies.
”
The girls laughed.
“
Oh, where are my manners?”
Larry asked. “Steve, the lovely brunette is Anna, and the redhead is Lucy.
”
“
Pleasure to meet you,
”
Stephen said, remembering
what his dad taught him about formality.
“
Am I not a lovely redhead?
”
Lucy asked Larry.
“
Of course you are, my dear.
”
He kissed her hand, and
then offered hers to Stephen.
“
She
’
s
for you.
”
“
Smooth, Larry.
”
He took her hand anyway and
kissed it as well.
Stephen and Larry bought
tickets for themselves and their dates, walked inside the theater and got their
seats. The auditorium was small, the seats uncomfortable. A monster movie
played for them, something about a creature from a dark, stinky cave. Anna
watched through her fingers the entire time, but Lucy seemed to enjoy the
movie. A lot more than Stephen, anyway.
The movie brought back too
many memories. It had only been a couple of weeks since he was attacked, but
watching this movie made his shoulder ache. He scratched at it absently.
“
Are you okay?
”
Lucy asked him.
“
I
’
m fine. This movie is really
scary.
”
Before he knew it, her hand
was on top of his. She squeezed it. He squeezed back.
*
*
*
Stephen and Lucy saw more of
each other over the next month. Things didn
’
t go as well for Larry and Anna, however. She told Lucy,
who told Stephen, that Larry was crude, rude, and smelly. Stephen wondered if
Anna found out the hard way that Larry didn
’
t like using toilet paper.
Dad eventually met Lucy and
found her lovely, though he constantly kept an eye on them whenever she came
over. Stephen couldn
’
t
help but wonder if Dad was really keeping an eye on him personally. His
nightmares had gotten worse and he would often wake up screaming, scaring the
hell out of his father.
Seemingly out of the blue,
Dad suggested they start going to church. Stephen was wary, considering they’d
never once attended church before.
“
Why now?
”
he asked his father.
“
Because I think you need
some religion in your life. Your nightmares are getting worse. I can
’
t remember the last time
either of us got a good night
’
s
sleep.
”