Crypts & Cannibals: A Collection of Short Horror Stories

Blood Sacrifice {Part 2 of 5}

Her face belied the cascade of thoughts sweeping through her mind, one after another. Discomfort. Disbelief. Disdain. I watched as the next emotion melded itself across her consciousness. In her profession, she's convinced herself that she hides her feelings from the patients, but I see it. Pity. Alone it hovers, oozing from each motion as she writes on the yellow notepad resting on her desk.

She pushed her long brown hair behind one ear, working to lock it in place so that it won't attack her face while she works. "Why did you do that?"

I stared at her for a moment. This is new, I thought. No one ever asked why. I was confident that the disbelief that I identified on her face was no fluke. She didn't believe me, she can't believe me, right?

"Youthful curiosity," I replied, deciding I would tell her the truth rather than playing the game of reality versus the impossible shit my mind makes up, "The abandoned Benova mansion, deep in the woods, my friends and I went out there on a dare. The place is supposed to be haunted ... you know ... the family murdered and all that. We spent the night, but I couldn't sleep. I just explored the old place." I paused, wondering, is she playing a game with me or waiting for the right time to slap me with accusations of a mind that created some twisted alternative world?

She adjusted her glasses again, looking over the top of the horn-rims rims, "A foolish errand, I'm sure, being in that dilapidated, old building is dangerous. What happened next?"

"I climbed up to that turret-like room, that round taller part of the house that goes up about four stories. I knew it was risky, but I wanted to see what was up there. Of course, just like the rest of the place — nothing. Just a dusty old room without furniture and nothing on the walls. So, I just looked out the windows. It's a good view, but that's when I saw it."

I drank from the glass that she'd left on the desk for me. Nothing but water, of course, but I needed it. I felt my pulse picking up and the dampness growing in my armpits. I'd never told this whole story to anyone. I tried to the first time that I was committed but got redirected into a discussion of what was real and what was only spinning in my head. I coughed, trying to work the phlegm in the back of my throat to a place where I could swallow it. Even after drinking the entire glass of water, my mouth was still just too dry.

"What did you see?" she asked empathetically, looking directly into my eyes. I almost asked her right then and there whether she was fucking with me.

"A dim light in the rocky hills. Kind of like a reddish glow," I replied before I finished my thought.

She nodded as if she understood. I didn't want to respond like a giddy, overly excited doofus, but she was listening. I didn't feel that analytical judgment and sense that I was being evaluated for a treatment protocol.

So I continued, "The next day, we all went home, but I came back a few days later by myself. I don't know why. I just felt like there was something important in those hills. Maybe something valuable. I didn't want to have to share. I mean ... my friends were cool and all, but what if it was some type of treasure. Well, that's what I thought back then. I know, it sounds insane."

"No, not at all," she interjected, "it sounds like you thought you had an opportunity and decided to pursue it."

"Yeah, that's it, but that's not what it turned out to be. I made it to the Benova place and ... and headed toward the hills. It started to rain, and I got a little turned around. Night was upon me before I knew it, but then I saw the light again, and it guided me to what I'd seen from the turret at the mansion. It was a small opening into a cave, or so I thought. It was covered in brush and branches, and when I pulled them away, I saw that it was more like a door or entryway that someone made. The sides and top were carved marble. And on the top piece were some words. The dim light was coming out of that opening. The weird thing was that the opening really was small. I had to get on my hands and knees to crawl inside."

The doctor removed her glasses, and I stopped. All I could think Was this is it, now she's going to tell me that I'm just imagining shit. That my mind is creating things that aren't real. But she just asked another question, "What did it say over the entryway?"

I told her that I couldn't read it, but I remembered what it looked like.

She flipped to a blank page in her notepad and pushed it towards me, "Can you write it down for me?"

So, I took the notebook and write it down.

Brány Pekla

She looked at the words. I couldn't tell if she knew what it meant, but something seemed to change in the way that she looked at me.

"What happened next?"

"Well, I crawled for a few feet and then it opened up so that I could stand. It wasn't a cave. It was a big room with a bunch of fancy coffins. You know, stone ones on the ground, with lots of carving and big holes in the walls with bones. The wall on the far end of the room was totally covered with skulls like someone wallpapered it with old heads. Right in the middle of the wall was another door, but instead of a door, it was a gate made of old iron bars with a chain and an old padlock, you know the type with the keyhole on the front rather than the bottom like a new Master Lock. That's where the light was coming from. Someplace behind those bars. Someplace lower from where I stood because I could see stairs behind the bars, going down. That's where the red light came from."

My mouth suddenly felt drier than it did before. I think my tongue was swelling up. I tried to pull some moisture into my mouth. I needed to lick my lips. Cracks were forming. I just knew blood would start seeping from the edges of my lips.

She pushed her hair behind her ear again and sat back in her chair. The thick brown leather nearly consumed her small frame, but still squeaked as her weight shifted. I could tell she was analyzing me, but not like the other shrinks. She wanted to hear my story.

"Did you have the key to unlock that padlock?"

"Don't need a key," I proudly boasted, "I could have picked it even if it was a Master Lock."