"Deacon Ash"

Chapter 11: No Escape

CHAPTER 11: No Escape

I fired repeatedly at the boulder-like cranium. The bullets had struck the target multiple times as evidenced by the abrupt disappearance of Chaos's head back through the other side of the door.

Is this really happening? had raced through my mind as I waited, reassessing all that I had seen. My arms stiffened and ached from muscle fatigue. I lowered my aim to release the tension form my joints.

The need to inspect if I had killed Chaos won me over and I headed for the door. As I took a few steps forward, the southern-accented hymn came to my ears.

Whaaaat a friend we have in Jeeesus, alllll our sins and griefs to bearrrr...Whaaaat a privilege to carrrrrry...Evvvverything to God in prayerrrr.

The winds roared and thunder rumbled long and low. Deacon Ash was coming and he had brought the storm with him.

A black vapor had caught my eye as it sailed through the gaping hole in the door. It looked like a billowy snake, hissing as the gaseous form stretched and gradually thickened. It hovered and began to spread unevenly. I should have run, but the alcohol in my system continued to cloud my judgment. I stood there, dumbfounded, desiring to know what the dark mist could possibly be. I got my answer when the smoke began to take form of a large canine. Soon thereafter two red spheres found me from the center of the blackness. I fired a volley of bullets at the smoke and they passed harmlessly through it and into the front door.

And Deacon Ash had gotten closer.

Whaaaat a friend we have in Jeeesus, alllll our sins and griefs to bearrrr...Whaaaat a privilege to carrrrrry...Evvvverything to God in prayerrrr.

I couldn't fathom what was happening. I had accepted that all of it was real, but persistently contradicted myself at the same time. I thought that maybe somehow Deacon Ash and Chaos had found their way into my subconscious. I had had it in mind to keep control, get away from the black smoke, get away from Deacon Monroe Ash, get the hell out of Blackwood, Mississippi, and flee from it all.

The lights dimmed sending me into a dreamy dash for the back door. My brain formulated a plan as I moved; get outside and run around the house, jump into my Bronco and roll out. My arm had already been extended to open the back door.

The storm had opened it for me. The door flew open on its hinges and almost crashed into me. I froze in my tracks at the old man standing in my way. Deacon Ash's tall, thin frame stood between me and freedom. A brilliant flash of lightning outlined him even further, a stark reminder that I would have to get past him to get out.

"Going somewhere?" Deacon Ash asked.

"Move," I said.

My pistol was aimed center mass of his chest.

"I'm afraid I can't do that," Deacon Ash said.

He moved toward me.

"I promise you I'll shoot," I said.

"I got no doubt that you wouldn't," Deacon Ash said. "I don't think it'd do you much good, though."

His stench preceding him, the old man continued to move toward me and as I had promised, I opened fire. The bullets slammed into my newest target's chest and knocked him backwards. I fired at him until he had been completely driven out of the back door. He toppled to the ground on his back, spread eagled.

I had heard Chaos let loose with a high-pitched wail.

I ran out the back door into the storm and leapt over a fallen Deacon Ash like a track star. With the quickness of a rattle snake that belied his age, he had reached out and grabbed me by the ankle. His old, skeletal hand held me tight.

"Where are you off to?" Deacon Ash asked.

He had sat up and his grip had tightened.

"We got some talking to do...you and me," he said.

I pointed the pistol at his head and squeezed the trigger. The hammer fell, but not another single bullet was expended. The clip was out of rounds. I kicked my captor flush in the side of his head with my free foot. His head swiveled in a three-hundred-and-sixty degree turn on his shoulders. Horrified, I yanked and yanked until both of my legs were free. I tossed the useless pistol to the ground and bolted from Deacon Ash as he scurried along the ground after me.

"There's nowhere to run, nowhere to hide!" Deacon Ash shouted after me.

I looked back to see him steadily rising to his feet.

"When you come back, I'll be here waiting for you! You got something I need, something I will get," he yelled.

As I ran alongside the exterior of the Victorian, I took a glance through one of the windows and saw Chaos on his fire paws sprinting through the house to the back door. Not losing my drunken strides in the wind gusts, I had made it to my Bronco and was behind the wheel. Shockingly in one smooth motion I had fished my keys out of my pocket and into the ignition. I had the vehicle fishtailing away from the house.

I was flying down the dirt road, battling against the storm. The road should have led me to the pavement taking me to town rather quickly but the route of travel had changed. An unfamiliar bend appeared where the pavement should have been. I followed it and it led me right back to the house. I turned around and drove down the road again, arriving at another unfamiliar turn and again it brought me right back to the house. I had repeated this act until I had lost count, until I had given up.

Coming to grips that every detail of what I had experienced was real and that I had stumbled into a hidden world of Blackwood, Mississippi, I returned to the bequeathed Victorian that would become my prison. I stepped out of my Bronco into the slapping wind and faced the front door, stunned by what was left of it. It was a broken mess.

Deacon Ash had been in there waiting for me. He wanted something from me. I took the first step toward the house, having no other alternative but to find out what it was.