It was a beautiful spring day in the Adirondack Mountains of New York when Doug Walthan took a hike with his collie, Chancy. The twenty-five-year-old lawyer enjoyed doing this activity ever since buying his vacation house in the township of Golden Oaks. Instead of following the usual path, he decided to take a different route which led into the forest. About forty-five minutes later, he came across a fenced off area that was hidden behind some large fir trees.
There was a warning posted on the locked gate:
UNDER NO CIRCUMSTANCES
SHOULD ANYONE ATTEMPT TO OPEN THIS GATE AND ENTER.
THE DEVIL'S SERVANT WILL AWAKEN
AND CONTINUE HIS GHASTLY DEEDS.
Doug shrugged. �I don�t believe in such hocus-pocus,� he thought.
Having a curious nature, he broke the rusted lock with a stone. Although it was a calm day, a strong cold wind lashed him in the face as he opened the gate. Chancy growled, and refused to follow him.
Doug tied the dog to a tree. �Okay, Chancy, you wait out here. I won�t be long.�
A path led up to a small plain mausoleum with thick brick walls. The ground surrounding it was barren, creating a depressing atmosphere. Moving closer to investigate, the mausoleum door mysteriously swung open.
Inside he heard rustling, and then someone spoke. �At last, awakened by a mortal. Excellent! Now I can resume my work for my master, Abaddon, the King of the Bottomless Pit. You, who stand out there trembling, come and meet me. �
Terrified, Carey felt himself being drawn into the mausoleum by some strong unknown force. Using all his strength, he broke away and exited the place, swinging the gate closed.
�Let�s go home, Chancy,� he said, untying the dog and leaving the forest as fast he could.
Margery, his girlfriend, was surprised to see him back so soon. �What brings you home so early, Carey? Did you run out of steam?� Then she noticed his expression and became worried. �What�s wrong? You look like you�ve seen a ghost.�
Carey took a deep breath. �Well, not really saw, but I did hear something that gave me the shivers, and I don�t frighten that easily.�
Margery knew that Carey wasn�t prone to making things up, nor did he have an overactive imagination, so she sat back and carefully listened as he explained what had happened.
�Look,� she suggested when he finished, �maybe you should speak to a clergyman. Hopefully, he can ward off this evil presence.�
Carey nodded. �That�s a good idea, honey. I�d better do it quickly. I wouldn�t be surprised if that demonic entity is already roaming the area. Reverend Meter at the Pleasant Avenue Church is right down the road. I�ll go and pay him a visit right now. Want to come along?�
�Sure,� she said, getting her coat.
The church was only five minutes from the house by car. A few yards out of the driveway, a large, hideous reddish colored animal ran in front of the car causing Carey to swerve into the other lane. Luckily there were no oncoming cars.
�What was that?� Margery asked, a little shaken.
�I don�t know,� Carey nervously replied, �I�ve never seen such a creature before.�
�Oh, Carey, I have a strong feeling that it was purposely trying to cause an accident to stop us from seeing the reverend.�
Carey nodded. � Me too. I�m afraid we�re up against something very powerful.�
The handsome Dutch reform church was built right after the Civil War. Reverend Kenneth Meter had been holding serves there for more than fifty years and was well loved by his congregation.
The reverend received Carey and Margery in the study of the parsonage. He listened intently as Carey nervously explained to him the strange events that had happened. Afterward, Reverend Meter walked over to a bookcase and pulled out a very old book from a shelf and placed it on the desk.
�I am afraid you�ve unintentionally awoken one of the foulest servants of Lucifer. Too bad you disregarded the notice posted on the gate.�
Carey shrugged. �Frankly, I thought it was nonsense.�
The reverend frowned. �Come now, Mr. Waltham, you must be familiar with what Shakespeare wrote in �HAMLET�, �There are more things in heaven and earth . . . than are dreamt of in your philosophy.� One should always keep an open mind.�
�Perhaps. You seem to be familiar with that place in the forest, reverend.�
Reverend Meter sighed. �Indeed I am. Besides you, I am the only other person who knows about it, and for more than one good reason. Let me read a portion of this diary written by Reverend Jonas Anderson Beck, the first reverend of this church. It will help you understand. �
***
May 17, 1859
Grand Oaks is a small, but thriving, village. Most of the men make a good living by hunting and selling furs. The families here are very happy and closely knit. A few weeks ago a strange man who called himself Nicholas Victor rented a room at the inn. The man was quite charismatic. He has become popular with the folks and befriended many families. Unfortunately, since his arrival, some people from the village have died without any visible signs of illness. I have become suspicious of Nicolas since he has been seen with each of the unfortunate persons at the time they were stricken. Furthermore, I have been recently told that he is trying to convince all the villagers to stop attending my church services, claiming it is a waste of time. Whenever I try approaching him to have a talk, he grunts and darts away from me.
May 18, 1859
Fully convinced that this Nicholas was doing some kind of harm, perhaps of an evil nature, I broke into his room at the inn last night while he was away. Upon entering, I noticed a musty odor that permeated the air. On his bed lay an unholy book of black magic. A large hexagram was drawn on the floor. In the center was a silver box, which had an etching on its lid of an inverted cross, a symbol of the devil.
While pondering what to do, Nicholas returned.
�I expected to find you here, reverend,� he said, locking the door and taking off his cloak and hat. In his hand he held a small quivering red velvet bag that was put it into the silver box.
Mustering up all my courage, I told him that I felt he had a satanic purpose in coming to the village of Golden Oaks and probably had something to do with the recent deaths. Just then, a mumbled sound came from the silver box. It sounded like someone crying.
Suddenly I understood! Nicholas was collecting souls for the devil. Silently saying a prayer, I ran to the silver box, removed the bag and released its contents. A puff of white smoke arose and then vanished.
�One less soul for your master,� I shouted. �Now, you must be immediately destroyed or soon you will collect every soul in this village, then move onto some other place where you will continue your satanic mission. You are a curse to mankind.�
�And what do you plan to do, reverend?� Nicholas asked. �EGO sum immortalis; I am immortal.�
�Perhaps,� I replied, �but when I visited Rome in my youth, I learned of a little known incantation that will put an evil demon like you into a deep sleep. That should at least prevent you from continuing any more harm.�
Nicholas smirked. �I know of that spell. It has a weakness. If any mortal comes within fifty feet of me after the passing of a hundred years, I will awaken.�
�Then,� I replied, �I will try and make sure that never happens. I will lay your body somewhere deep in the forest and surround the unholy spot with a fence. On the gate I will post a warning, just in case anyone should discover the spot.�
Nicholas was not impressed. �It may work for the time being, but eventually someone is bound to come and disregard your warning. Be assured your spell will not last forever. I will return someday and continue the work for my master. You are a fool if you think you can defeat me.�
May 28, 1859
It is now a week later. The spell, thank God, was effective, and I immediately engaged a few trusted men from my congregation to hastily build a small mausoleum deep in the forest where the demon has been laid. A strong cedar fence surrounds the area. I have posted a large sign on the gate with a warning for anyone who accidentally finds the place to leave. I pray this will be the last anyone sees of Nicholas Victor.
***
Closing the diary, Reverend Meter took a deep breath. �Ah, Mr. Walthan, if only you wouldn�t have disregarded the warning.�
�Reverend,� Margery asked, remembering the large creature that crossed the road, �as a priest, isn�t there anything you can do to stop this Nicholas? I think he is close by.�
�I wouldn�t be surprised,� the reverend said, striking the desk with his fists. �I will personally stop him before he gets a chance to commence. It is a way to redeem my family from the unholy actions of this malignant incarnate.�
Doug was puzzled. �Your family? What do they have to do with this Nicholas Victor?�
Reverend Meter got up and walked to the window, his head bowed. �Nicolas Victor was my mother�s great-uncle twice removed. I discovered this many years ago just after I had become a reverend and found some old letters of Nicolas� mother that were stored in a secret compartment of an antique ancestral chest I inherited. From her notes, I learned that he was the black sheep of the family, and from the time he was a boy, caused nothing but trouble to anyone he met. Coming from a pious family, he rebelled against all their beliefs and took up with a cult of heathens who lived in the mountains. Eventually, he became their leader. Rumors began spreading of unspeakable things this group was doing. It was said they had kidnapped some defenseless orphans and murdered them in a sacrificial ritual to the devil. When authorities came to question them, the culprits all disappeared like some kind of vermin in the night. Victor was never again seen by my family. It was providential that I was assigned to this church where Reverend Beck once presided. I knew someday I would get the chance to destroy the scourge of my bloodline, and somehow redeem his callous acts. Now the time is here and I am fortunate to have the written incantation of Jonas Beck. I expect the demon will try to destroy it, but I am ready for him and will put him back to sleep. To avoid any future problems, his foul body will be placed in a thick concrete box and buried in an unclosed location, far away from here.�
Stunned, Carey and Margery sat there in silence. Suddenly, a hideous laugh filled the room. The doors to the study swung open. Nicholas Victor glared at them with intense hate. His complexion was waxen, and his long reddish hair hung out of his black hat. As he walked in, Reverend Meter tried to pull out his cross, but Nicholas took the cane he was holding and struck it down with a tremendous force.
�You want to destroy me, a member of my own family, and even worse, a man of God. How repulsive! Well, reverend, �Nunquam iterum� - never again! I won�t be stopped from doing what must be done.�
He quickly waved his hands and the three mortals became immobile before they had a chance to do anything. Pulling out a red velvet bag from inside his cloak, Nicholas slowly walked around each of them. Placing his hands on their forehead, they felt an excruciating pain as a puff of white smoke arose from their bodies, which was quickly caught and put in his bag.
Moments later, the building blazed with a horrific fire, incinerating everything within it.
