Chapter Six

“Oh, God…!” Colleen covered her mouth in shock and bewilderment. She turned away from the sight of Betty and her friend standing uncaring of their nudity. The man walked to the large chair and sat. From behind it, another man produced a hollowed goat head and placed it over Betty’s friend’s head. He now had the appearance of half goat, half man.

Colleen thought she might laugh at the sight but her mounting fear aborted the giggle. Her body began to shake. Moisture formed in her palms and on her brow. Her legs automatically ran for the wall of humans surrounding her, hoping to squeeze through to freedom. Two men quickly grabbed her by the arms and forced her to kneel on the pine needles before the goat headed man.

“Please,” Colleen sobbed. “Please, let me go. I promise I’ll never tell a soul about this, please?”

She looked up at the silent figure, her hands together as if praying. Her eyes filled with tears and she softly repeated, “Please?”

The goat headed man raised his arms then without uttering a sound, the others obediently began to undress. They then joined hands, forming a circle inside the larger circle of naked forms with Colleen in the center.

The outer circle walked with unblinking zombie-like eyes clockwise around the fire, and the inner circle pranced counter clockwise. The shuffle of bare feet upon the pine needles and the crackling of the fire nearly drowned out Colleen’s continued pleas for release.

“My God, Betty, please…”

“Your God cannot help you. Our master, the true God, desires you for his work and he shall have you. Bind her,” Betty demanded.

“No!” she screamed as the men bound her hands behind her back. Betty stared hard at Colleen, her eyes wide in madness.

“You will watch our dance of praise and glorification to our master then you will become the vehicle needed to fulfill his desires.”

“What are you talking about? Let me go!” Colleen struggled to free her bonds. Betty ignored her and watched the circles break apart and the members dance wildly about the fire. One by one, they approached the goat headed man, knelt, and kissed his feet.

“Homage to our God,” Betty explained to Colleen. “They are paying their respects to their master whose spirit will soon arrive and fulfill his desires through him.” Betty pointed to her strange animal looking friend.

Colleen’s head spun from screaming and the struggle to free her. She closed her eyes as the group participated in intercourse with each other, moving from partner to partner, the partner’s sex not mattering. She wished it were over so she could return to her husband. She knew he would not want to be a part of something as crazy as this and would arrest Betty and the rest of them.

Then she realized the truth. It came to her tired mind that she was not going to return home, never. She was not there for initiation. Betty’s statement of their God wanting her for his desires and the silver sword brought a terrifying image to Colleen.

“Oh, my God. Please help me!” she screamed.

The goat headed man once again raised his arms. The worshippers disengaged from each other. The orgy ceased and the human wall again encircled Colleen. Three men lifted her to her feet and began to tear away her clothing, ripping the halter from her torso followed by the jeans. She burst into hysterical screams as her panties were removed, leaving her nude in the cool night air.

Colleen, upon the table, hands and feet tied to each corner, helpless and shivering, weak and exhausted, lay sobbing. Betty’s friend left the throne and came to her. Watching through tear-soaked eyes, the goat headed man positioned himself between her opened legs, his member thrust painfully into her. The sound of pain and fear emerged from deep within Colleen as she filled the clearing with a hideous scream.

Colleen realized she was at the mercy of this goat headed figure but something was wrong, terribly wrong. His eyes were black like polished coal and shone brightly from the fire’s reflection. Looking quickly at the neck she could not see where the goat head mask ended and the man’s body began.

It was one, one face, one body, that of a demonic animal. Decayed teeth lined its jaw, inhuman squeals grunted from its throat and a decayed odor permeated its body. The pain between her legs grew until she felt his grotesque warmth explode inside her with such ferocity she was able to collapse, freeing herself temporarily from the horror within.

* * * *

When Colleen awoke, the nightmare invading her was gone. She could not see anything but could hear undertones by the fire behind her. Twisting her neck and body, she was able to see the man who raped her in the name of Satan holding the silver sword over the fire, whispering a chant. She noticed the fire was no longer there and bluish white flame shot out of the earth, bright and hot.

The chant ended and the worshippers returned to her with the goat headed man. He stood by her side with the silver sword. Colleen’s eyes opened wide in absolute terror as he placed the razor edge of the sword under her right ear. She could not move, cry, or scream only whisper.

“Our father, who art in heaven…”

Her words stopped as the blade was drawn under her ear across the throat and up under the left ear, cutting deep as it traveled. Betty took the sword and wiped it clean with a piece of the torn halter, completing the initiation of Colleen Murphy with the dead.

* * * *

Charles Murphy enjoyed being the newly appointed Police Chief of Wexford but wished there were more time for his wife. It amazed him how the position seemed to be a never-ending job. The force consisted of two officers and him; enough he thought to provide public safety to a small town of three hundred.

It was taking more of his time than he had anticipated and was not sure if it had anything to do with Colleen’s unexplained absence. He loved her and did not enjoy leaving her home alone; he sensed how it bothered her.

Memories of their first meeting entered his thoughts. He was a patrol officer with the Boston Police and Colleen a studious student at Northeastern University when introduced by well-meaning friends at his grandparent’s fifty-fifth wedding anniversary held in Wexford, Colleen’s hometown.

Before long, they were dating and visiting family and relatives on weekends and holidays. Within a year, they had become man and wife. Their mutual love of Wexford and the surrounding countryside sealed his decision to seek the Chief of Police position. They were elated when the call came announcing the selectman’s decision to hire Charles.

It was like a whirlwind of changes in both their lives, moving to a new colonial on two acres, surrounded by a fieldstone wall that edged the forest. Now Charles sat alone in the living room, running his fingers through his brushed back hair. His watch showed it was seven-thirty. The sun was setting under the tips of the tall trees to the west. Thoughts of her whereabouts constantly ran through his mind.

She left no message at the office or on the home bulletin board where shopping lists and love notes hung. Relatives and neighbors had not seen nor heard from Colleen, and Charles’ concern was growing, making an uneasy quivering inside his intestines. Almost twenty-four hours since he last saw Colleen, he knew something was wrong.

Charles tried to convince himself it was nothing, nothing more than her leaving him. That in itself would be a disaster, but at least he would know she was safe and alive.

Maybe she did leave me, he thought while lifting his six-foot-two frame from the chair, pacing the floor. Only the other night she told him how happy she was and wanted him to think about starting a family. He looked back into the house from the front door and noted the silence. He sighed heavily, wishing he knew.