Two Idiots and a Priest

chapter 3

John poked his head out of the shed, glancing around for the white spider creature. Mark had a hold on his jacket, gripping his sleeve fearfully. Seán stood behind Mark, holding the hood of the slight shorter man's jacket. After a few moments, the priest stepped out of the shed, the other two following. He turned to look at them, then prying Mark's hand from his arm. Seán also let go of his friend's hood.

"What are you, five-year-olds?" He asked.

"You're not afraid of that fockin' thing?" The Irishman shouted.

"Like I said, if you're so afraid--" John was cut off by Mark flicking his forehead.

"And like I said, we're not leaving you." He snapped back, "Let's just get into the house, then we can go home."

John could tell he was getting irritated -- as he should be, as he'd been patient with the man for a year now, and with this new wild goose chase, it was starting to wear thin. He nodded, then the group began walking again. They reached the house quickly, and John pulled the key out of his pocket. He noticed the rust that started to build up on the old and worn metal. He slotted the key into the lock, turned it, then opened the door. It squeaked loudly, grating on the three men's ears. It was dark inside, but there was just enough moonlight that they could see.

The three shuffled inside, John closing the door behind them. Mark and Seán pulled out flashlights from their jacket pockets and clicked them on, the third man doing the same a moment later. They stood in an entry room, with a large orange and black carpet, a coat hanger in the corner to their left, a framed picture on the wall next to the stairs across from them, along with a table under the photo. There were more, albeit smaller, framed pictures on the wall adjacent to the large picture, with a grandfather clock between them. There were openings at the left wall and in front of the men -- the one at the left opened into the master bedroom, while the one ahead went into the kitchen.

"So," Mark asked, looking at the other two, "split up?"

John was about to protest, but Seán shrugged and said sure before he could object. Mark went into the kitchen, while Seán went into the master bedroom. The priest sighed, annoyed, and decided to go upstairs.

Idiots. He thought.

The second floor started at a plain room -- a desk sat under a window, a speaker to its left and a modest bookshelf to the left of the speaker. A framed picture hung to the right of the desk, and a tree was potted in the corner across from the stairs. The bottom-left corner contained a cycling machine and dumbbells, both items rusting heavily. The door to the attic was across from the workout items, closed, taunting the priest with his failure. John shivered.

He immediately walked through the door closest to him, entering a bedroom. Two beds sat at the left wall, toys strewn about on the ground, as if children had been playing before he entered the room. There was a desk, toy chest, dresser, and drawings and posters plastered on the walls. With nothing of interest, John went to the room connected to the bedroom.

It opened into another bedroom. There was a single bed, a plush carpet in the center of the room, a desk, shelves, and a large dresser. John spotted a framed photo on the bedside table, and he walked over to it. He set his flashlight on the bedside table, then took the photo into his hands and sat on the bed, the mattress creaking under his weight. He swiped the dust away from the glass protecting the photo. He gave a sad and surprised exhale as he stared at the photo.

It was a photo of Amy. She wore her black and white dress, her hair slightly past her shoulders and parted down the middle. She was smiling, eyes squinting, as two nurses stood at her sides. They appeared to be smiling, though it was hard to tell because of their surgical masks. They stood in front of a building, the sign obscured by Amy, though John knew it was the clinic in town by the two nurses' attire and the appearance of the building.

They looked so happy. Amy had so much to look forward to in life... but John had been a coward. In the end, he ran. He left Amy to die.

The weight of his mistakes suddenly came crashing down on him. He hugged the framed photo close to his chest, leaning forward and squeezing his eyes shut. The priest tried to keep his sobs down, hurting his chest and throat and his shoulders shaking. He sniffled, quickly wiping his face before the tears could fall.

Stop crying. He scolded himself, There's no time for grief.

John slowly sat up, taking a deep breath and exhaling to calm down. He set down the framed picture on its original resting place, taking his flashlight again, standing from the bed and walking back to the stairs. He solemnly walked back down to the first floor, where he then walked into the kitchen. Mark was standing at the back door, peering outside through the boards. He turned upon hearing someone enter, sighing then smiling to his friend. John couldn't find the ability to smile back. Mark could tell that he was troubled, and his expression changed to concern.

"You okay, John?" He asked.

The priest didn't know how to respond for a moment. He simply nodded to his friend and turned away. Mark didn't say anything, merely turning and walking into the living room. John could hear him make a loud noise, followed by Seán shrieking in fear then verbally berating Mark. He ignored the two's shenanigans, walking over to the other set of stairs that he knew led into the basement. He stared down into the dark stairwell, pointing his flashlight at where he was looking. He took a deep breath to calm his erratic heartbeat (though it barely made it better), then started down.

The basement wasn't much better than the rest of the house above. There were puddles of water everywhere, water dripping into them from broken pipes. There were boxes along one of the walls, a washing machine and dryer at the very back wall. There was also an old white sheet and an old crib not too far away. John started slowly walking towards the back wall, where there was an opening to his left. He turned, and had a mini-heart attack upon seeing many mannequins covered by white sheets, like ghosts. There was a small table in the corner behind them with a sowing machine, alongside a basket full of fabrics. John turned left and started walking again. When he reached the next room, he stopped and stumbled back.

There was a horrific amount of blood on the ground, concentrated in the middle of the room with droplets reaching towards the opening. Unholy symbols drawn in blood surrounded the central area. Candles were alight all around the demonic room, casting the room in a low, flickering light. John slowly walked forward, eyes wide in terror as he approached the edge of the bloody symbols. His flashlight started flickering, so he stopped. John started hitting the light against his hand frantically, mumbling for it to work.

When the light finally decided to work, the priest pointed it back at the symbols. He gasped and dropped the light upon what he found.

Amy.

She still wore the black and white dress he remembered her wearing a year ago, though the blood was gone from her clothes. A white pillowcase covered her head, her black hair flowing out from underneath. The girl rushed forward and grabbed the man's face, clawed fingers digging into his flesh. John screamed out in pain and fear, grabbing her hands and trying to pry them off. He looked at her face, eyes wide.

"YOU FAILED ME!" She screeched.

Then, the world went dark.