Fear the Wicked (Illusions Series Book 2)(41)



My seat groaned as I reclined back, my legs crossing at the ankles beneath my desk. “That was the first time I’ve seen a man as spiritually tortured as the man that evening. Like your brother, I was shocked by the condition of him. Members of the family claimed to have found him wandering near the compound. They were concerned and brought him in hoping I could heal him with prayer.”

Casting a purposeful glance at Gentry, I added, “Unfortunately, I didn’t have the opportunity to try. The man was … extinguished … before I could offer the first word.”

The two brothers shared a glance at each other, some unspoken thought passing between them before they returned their gazes to me. Gentry was still quiet, effectively trapped in his state of continued shock over what happened just a week prior. Sheriff Holmes, however, had no problem speaking out.

“Is our town under spiritual attack as you claim, Father?”

I smiled, but not so much that they would assume the expression was anything more than a sad, resigned response.

“Between you and me, yes. I believe the entire world is under spiritual attack, but that goes back to the beginning of time. I’m sure you’ve read your Bible, Sheriff. Demons, and other such spirits and creatures are warned about. It’s spelled out quite eloquently by our ancient ancestors. The only thing that’s changed since their time and ours is the method we use to fight against it. It’s unfortunate that in today’s civilized society, we leave ourselves open to evil. You should know. You deal with the vile and depraved in your line of work. I’m sure you see examples of it on a daily basis. So, knowing what you know, and seeing what you see, you tell me how you’d answer the question you just posed.”

Rather than blurting out a response in an effort to argue with my view, Sheriff Holmes took the time to consider my response. He wasn’t the typical rural farmer, didn’t limit himself to the activities and concerns of the day to day. From what I could see within the myriad of thoughts and expressions that floated through his gaze, this man was critiquing what I’d said with an educated understanding of the crime and terror that flooded the lives of people, the horror that was expanding and deepening day to day. Nobody hated a criminal more than a man of the law. Even those lawmen that were criminals themselves.

“I know what you mean,” he finally answered, his voice softer and thoughtful. “Every damn day we’re dragging in more people. I once thought it was desperation that led them to the petty crimes they committed, but lately, I’ve been seeing things that cause my skin to crawl. Just the other day, I visited a farm where some of the livestock had been slaughtered. Not for food or any decent reason, but for fun. It cost the ranch owner not only money, but also peace of mind. He’d lived and worked on that land for thirty years and had never seen something like what we found that day. I didn’t write my opinion into the official record, but I believe the slaughter had been satanic. Possibly a cult type influence for people committing their evil on the fringes of society.”

My lips kicked up into a grin, but I had to fight the expression. I hadn’t heard of this slaughter and I assumed it occurred in a neighboring town – one in which the people didn’t regularly visit my small parish. “I’m sorry to hear you had to witness such darkness, Sheriff. I don’t think I need to point out that such a display is only proof of my concerns. We’re a small town with small town concerns, but it seems the evil that has infected the big cities is now bleeding into our mountains. Not too long ago, I heard there was a murderer who butchered several young girls. It was a state over, so I know you weren’t involved, but being law enforcement, I’m sure you must have heard.”

His expression darkened, pure hatred now blazing behind his steel colored eyes. “Yes, I’m aware of the incident. From what I know, they caught the man, but worried about additional victims that haven’t yet been reported missing. What he did to those girls was disgusting.”

Inclining my head, I let the silence fall between us as proof of my point. Evil is all around us in this world. It tiptoes down dark alleyways, spreads through the sewers and contaminates our lives. It trickles down rivers and streams until leaking into our small, peaceful towns. Everybody is affected by the evil that surrounds us. Whether the influence is to infect some with the desire to commit it themselves, the terror of knowing the details of some sicko’s crime, the constant influx of horrible events that were daily discussed on the local news, evil had a way of touching our lives, darkening our doorsteps and shaking our hand when we least expected it. And while some people were strong soldiers, able to endure and remain blissful while knowing that evil was just around the corner, others became distraught. They watched their children more closely, lamented the time period when they had been raised and could play in the yard without fear of being snatched and taken away for some nefarious purpose.

What evil had done is cast fear in the hearts of most Americans, and it was exactly that fear that men like me used to poison the mind with thoughts most average people would never think for themselves.

I disguised myself well as a man of God, and as I lurked beneath the mask of a decent man, I was the worst type of demon of all. I couldn’t take credit for the idea – the same types of demons had long ago preyed on me.

Tugging at his beard again, the tendons in his hand sticking out against the skin, the veins purple and pulsing, it was obvious how distraught Sheriff Holmes had become in response to our friendly conversation.

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