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fast! Where was the priest? Why wasn't he helping?
But Father Vincente did not understand the battle that was going on inside
Keller.
He was aware of the terrible presence in the aircraft, the loathsome,
malevolent thing that had descended upon them, and he renewed the strength of
his prayers.
But he failed to recognise the condition of the two men in front of him. The
light was bad and he could only see their figures, Hobbs kneeling beside the
crouched co-pilot. There was nothing to indicate their plight. He reached for
the crucifix and held it to his chest.
Keller was losing. The monstrous entity - whatever it was -was spreading
through him, sapping his strength, dominating his will, devouring his soul. He
heard the chuckle then - low and coarse.
Demonish
! His eyes, the only part of him that could move, looked towards the
spiritualist kneeling at his side. The sound had come from him! With horror,
Keller saw his eyes were fully opened now and were regarding him with a
gloating, baleful pleasure. The dry chuckle escaped from his sneering lips
again.
'Welcome, Keller.' The voice came from Hobbs, but it didn't belong to him. It
was the same low-pitched snarl Keller had heard the night before. 'You've come
to me
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at last, eh, bastard?'
Father Vincente heard the words. He was struck rigid as he realised what was
happening. His body began to tremble with fear. 'In the name of God, no!' he
screamed, lunging forward and snatching at the vial on the floor as he did so.
But in his haste, and in the dark, he stumbled and the vial slipped from his
grasp, rolling out of sight beneath strips of fallen metal. He dropped to his
knees and desperately searched for it, but the glow from the candles, and even
the torch, had dimmed considerably.
Hobbs - or the thing that now was Hobbs - turned his head slowly to regard the
scrambling priest with disdain.
'Grovel, priest, you sucker of spirits, you leech of the cloth.' The low,
husky chuckle. 'Do you think a few drops of piss would drive me away?'
Father Vincente stopped his searching and looked up at Hobbs. Suddenly, he
thrust the cross forward and began to shout: "Holy Lord, Almighty Father,
Everlasting God and Father of our Lord Jesus Christ. Who once and for all
consigned that fallen tyrant to the flames of hell. Who sent your only
begotten Son into the world to crush that roaring lion; hasten to our call for
help& ' The thing in
Hobbs laughed aloud, horrendously, filling the priest's ears with its braying
sound.
It reached a high pitch, and the spiritualist's body rocked backwards and
forwards, mocking the priest. Father Vincente faltered, then continued:
'Hasten to our call for help and snatch from ruination and from the clutches
of the noonday Devil this human being made in Your image and likeness. Strike,
terror, Lord, into& '
'Stop!' the creature screamed. Tool. Do you think words are enough?' He glared
at the priest.
Suddenly, the crucifix in Father Vincente's hand glowed red hot. He dropped it
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with a cry of pain and fell back. The metal crucifix lay on the cockpit floor
between the priest and Hobbs, black trails of smoke rising from it.
The creature laughed again and the priest immediately resumed his incantation:
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'Into& into the beast& now laying waste your vineyard. Let Your mighty hand
cast him out& "
Keller felt the pressure ease slightly. The droning words of the priest came
through to him and somehow filled him. He had felt himself sinking, sinking,
falling into a void of blackness where only a round white object waited for
him. As he fell towards it, he saw two dark, cold eyes drawing him down, rose
bud lips silently mocking. Hands constricted his throat and breathing became
difficult. He saw the long, buckled blemish, the brown scorched plastic of the
doll's face! The doll's face! He remembered the little girl boarding the
aircraft, carrying the tiny plastic doll! He remembered that!
And then the priest's words had come droning through, as if from a great
distance away, but growing louder, louder as they reached for him. He found
himself saying the unknown words with the priest, words he'd never heard
before. No sounds came from his lips, but inside himself, inside the cavern of
his being, he spoke them. '& Of Your servant, so he may no longer hold captive
this person whom it pleased You to make& " He began to emerge again, to float
to the surface, towards light.'& In Your image, and to redeem through Your
Son, who lives and reigns with You& ' The unseen hands fell away from his
throat.'& In the unity of the Holy Spirit& " He was reaching the surface, the
voice was louder.'&
God, for ever and ever& " With a gasp he fell forward, released from the
terrible pressure that had held him in its suffocating grip.
Hobbs was staring at the priest, vile obscenities pouring from his twisted
lips.
Keller staggered upright and struck out at the spiritualist, knocking him back
against crumbling metal. The thing lay there in the dark and glared at the
co-pilot, his malicious eyes filled with hate. A leer, a twisted snarl of a
smile, spread across his face. Think you've escaped?' he rasped.
Suddenly, the broken shell of the aircraft began to tremble. Chunks of metal
were dislodged and fell with a dull clatter. The thing on the floor was
laughing aloud, grotesque in its derision of them. The trembling became more
violent, the broken aircraft began to vibrate with a rising intensity. A
high-pitched whining howl filled
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the small compartment, stinging their eardrums with its sound, penetrating to
a point behind their eyes, causing agonising pain. Keller lost his balance as
the shaking increased, crashing back against the framework of the removed
electronics panel. The aircraft seemed to be crumbling around them, whole
panels of stained metal falling inwards, sending up choking clouds of sooty
dust. The two candles were knocked over, leaving them with only the dull light
from the torch.
The quivering world seemed to be a cauldron of sound: the clang of toppling
metal; the groaning of the aircraft itself as it suffered the new onslaught on
its already violated body; the shrieking that dominated every other sound, the
obscene mocking laughter of the thing inside Hobbs; and, throughout, the
priest's fervent incantation, rising in pitch to compete with the noise.
Keller clasped his hands to his ears and rocked his head from side to side. A
cry rose from his throat as though the inner sound would act as a barrier
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