“And now it is time in the ceremony where we will celebrate the sacrament of baptism,” said the priest as he stepped away from the lectern and off of the podium. “There is a tradition in the church practiced during baptism relating to something called the Devil’s Door,” the priest continued as he walked through the mostly empty church towards the north end of the sanctuary.
In front of the altar stood a young boy named Peter who was around the age of nine. Standing next to him was his mother and father. All three were dressed in very nice formal attire. In the arms of the father was an infant girl dressed in a white baptismal outfit. The family stood straight listening attentively and tracking the priest as he moved further away from them and closer to the northern door.
“The devil’s door has a long history that dates back to the beginning of Christianity,” the priest continued, “but has evolved through the years to be a baptismal practice; though even this tradition is ancient and seldom practiced.
When a baby is to be baptized people used to believe that the unbaptized baby had the Devil within their soul,” The priest grabbed the doorknob of the Devil’s Door. “The assembly would open the door before so that during the baptism the Devil would be exorcised from the baby and would quickly exit through the northern door.” The priest still held the door knob, and the tone of his voice was that of someone telling a scary story as he was both trying to emphasize the spookiness of the tale and at the same time reassure Peter that it was just that; only a tale.
Peter, just like his parents, had been quiet and attentive staying focused on the priest’s movement as well as his words. Peter almost seemed sullen, and the priest tried to keep the show entertaining for the youngling, as was his job. In an attempt to get some reaction from Peter he wrinkled his brow and asked, “Can you believe they used to think that, Peter?” He turned the knob.
“Yes father,” answered Peter.
Father had already been a bit disturbed by the overall somber manner of the family which was noticeable from the moment he opened the rectory door at their knocking. For one they were a visiting family who was not from the priest’s parish and it is customary to be baptized in one’s own parish. But Peter’s parents, especially his mother, had been so adamant and insistent that the priest conceded just as much to get it over with so that the family might continue their travels. Peter’s matter of fact affirmative answer just confirmed for the priest that the family wasn't quite normal.
“Well then Peter, you can rest assured that little Margaret will be safe from the Devil,” the priest pushed open the door in sync with his words for effect, “and free from…”
A flash and sound followed the opening of the door that was so violent and intense the priest was thrown back several meters from where he stood. Before he had fallen to the floor the front three rows of pews had been obliterated and splintered in every direction possible. The flash that had flown through the Devil’s Door, knocked the priest, and destroyed the pews was a wolf which had glowing red eyes, was roughly the size of a horse and only stood on two feet.
It was hard to notice that the creature naturally stood upright because of its pouncing motion, but as the creature had come in and landed, like a mortar round, in the pews it did not idle for a moment. Instead it leapt all in the same motion, utilizing only what is commonly referred to as a wolf’s hind legs, in the direction of the altar.
It was in the split second between when the wolf landed and began to spring forward that, if you were a time bender, you could see that the beast’s front appendages were not paws, but closer to human looking furry hands. Each was completely wrapped in bandages like a boxer before putting his gloves on. The beast bounded forward from the wreckage of the seats, flying through the air, and landed this time touching down first with its hands, halfway between the pews and the family; only a single leap away from the potential kill.
As the hind legs followed falling upon the floor it lifted its hands-up as it began its pounce. It pushed with all its might, springing forth through the air above and towards the family. Its hands opened as if to grasp what it was targeting, which judging by the trajectory of the animals hands was what Peter’s father held; baby Margaret.
Peter’s father had been petrified upon the wolf’s entry, but as it closed the distance heading in his direction he instinctively turned and fell backwards trying to protect his daughter by sacrificing himself. Peter’s father was too slow and the wolf’s movement much faster.
A split second before the man fell to the floor and the predator met his prey Peter stepped in front of the wolf, raised his right arm, and extended three fingers.
A bright light followed and a dense shower of red blood exploded from the beast as if it were a water balloon popping on impact. A mangled carcass fell to the floor a meter or so above the head of Peter’s father who now lay on his knees and elbows with baby Margaret completely shielded by his body; wailing but alive. The dead animal slid across the floor and took out several small statues before it came to a halt against the church organ.
The rain of blood ended but the light did not.
Peter turned towards the direction of the light which was the front door of the church but had to shield his eyes. Standing in the doorway were three men. The man in the center held a staff high in his left hand, and the tip was the source of the light. Peter strained to see against the light and saw that the man also held his right hand out, and that it was covered in blue fire.
The man looked at his right hand inquisitively and then back at Peter. He brought his hand close to his mouth, blew and the flame went out. The two men at his side had been in an attack stance, but relaxed somewhat now. The light of his staff died down, and it shrunk in size into a cane; the tip of which the man placed on the ground. A clerical collar could be made out around the man’s neck signifying priesthood. There was a moment of silence while everyone took in the scene.
Margaret’s mother stood up, pointed at the baby and screamed, “She must be baptized now!!!!”
YOU ARE READING
The Gunpowder Society
ParanormalThe Gunpowder Society is founded upon a school for the gifted. Hidden in plain site within a downtown skyscraper, this school's entrance exam consists of a single query: What gifts have you been given? This is a story about children and villains w...