His voice soars over the huge crowd. It has a mesmerizing effect on the people. Mark watches while security guards try to keep back the faithful who are rushing the stage. In his mind, he can see everything clearly, Anne sitting beside him, even the towering rigging. He can even make out the faces of the gospel quartet, who wait on the far side of the stage to perform. The one thing, blocked from his vision, is the face of the preacher. His words sing out, transfixing the multitudes, leaving them in a state of torpor. There is something also about his voice, something that remains hidden from Mark. The preacher’s words are meant to bring release, for Mark they bring only dread.
He raises his hands toward heaven and falls down on his knees. Sweat pours down his face as he leaps back up and glides across the stage yelling: "Praise be to the Lord! Praise be!" He moves slowly across the stage, shifting his gaze from section to section, as he passes by. The converts roar until he motions for them to be silent. The choir, behind the stage chants low in the background. Strobe lights pass over the audience. From where he sits, Mark , can almost feel the preacher’s eyes, as they bore into his soul. He has felt this consciousness only one other time in his life. In Hell!
The lights dim as the preacher slides across the platform and seizes a microphone.
"Mesphisto, Satan, the devil, they may even be sitting here tonight, among us, as I speak," he screamed out, as he spins and moves with the grace of a jungle cat. He walks over to a makeshift ramp that stretches over the aisles. The faithful all cheer from their chairs and bleachers. It allows him to view and interact with even the last rows of his followers. He is a preacher intent on saving every last one of his flock, at any cost.
The holy man runs down the ramp until he stands directly over Anne and Mark . He points at them both and spotlights flash, illuminating where they sit. The throngs of people turn around and look to see what is going to happen next. She shifts around nervously on the wooden bench until she is closer to Mark . They sit in the last row of the additional floor seating with their view of the stage partially obscured.
"My God, they’re all staring at us," she said to him with a look of wide-eyed disbelief. The preacher waves his arms at them from his perch overhead.
"And there will come to be among us, one who is marked by the beast, by Satan," the preacher cried out. "He will stay with us sharing our sustenance, our loves and joys, but I say onto you my flock, that this anti-Christ shall be marked by a difference. Look before you, my children, and beware, for this day he sits among you!" He reaches down as far as he can from the railing, and points directly at Mark . "Satan, Satan!" Row after row in the vast crowd pick up the chant. Someone yells out a few rows behind them: "Kill them, kill the servants of the devil!" Mark finds a handbill on the floor and scrawls a message on it. He hands it to Anne and stands up.
"You have to get out of here and get this note to Josh. I’ll try and create a diversion," he said, trying hard to conceal the panic in his voice. He stares at the stage until it erupts in billowing flames. The congregation panics as the flames rise. In the confusion she makes her escape. The crowd is frenzied, scrambling in a herd for the exits. Anne, forces her way through the throngs of worshipers.
The more fanatical of his supporters, still surround Mark yelling: "Satan" or "Kill him." As the tent catches fire and burns, he tries to gain mastery of the blaze. Anne, finds herself being swept away in the swell of humanity. Just yards in front of her, faces are bunched together, pushing and shoving. An elderly woman trips and falls. The person behind her follows her down, grabbing hold of the man nearest to her. Soon, bodies are piled up in a heap blocking the main entrance. Anne turns and looks behind her. The fire is lapping skyward toward the rafters.
She takes the only clear path, back to where the stage burns. Anne moves swiftly to the side of the dumbstruck herd of worshipers. Slipping by the vacated tables- where many vendors only minutes before were selling books written by the preacher- she makes her way over to the canvas wall of the exhibition area.
There is an opening in the tent, which carny hands have been using to restock the materials being hawked. She is almost through the aperture when she hears a woman scream. Anne races back into the smoldering pavilion and looks around. A young lady is holding her child, injured in the melee. Two other small children are crying as they tug on the hem of her dress. The woman sees Anne as she runs over. "This way, hurry!"
Anne picks up one of the crying youngsters and they race from the fire. After she is certain that the woman is going to be okay, Anne runs over to the jeep.
"I don’t know how I’ll ever be able to repay you," the woman said to her. Her vehicle starts instantly, throwing patches of mud on the tent as Anne drives quickly away. She watches the tent, from her rear-view mirror, as it goes up in flames behind her. Car horns blare as the traffic becomes bottle-necked at the revival site.
Anne forces the gas pedal down to the floor. Her speedometer, speeds by the posted driving limits. Farms become city blocks as they fly by in a blur of motion. The jeep barely slows down while pulling into the parking lot of the lodge. It smashes through a chain link fence and it doesn’t lurch to a stop until it reaches Josh’s cabin. She runs from the overheated vehicle and pounds on his door. "Uncle Josh, Uncle Josh for God’s sakes open up, there’s been trouble at the revival meeting, please, dear Jesus in heaven, let him be awake," she screamed as she continues to pound on the cabin. Anne arouses him from a troubled, fitful sleep.
He staggers from the comfort of bed to answer. "Damn it," he yelled, as he smashes his pinky toe into the sofa. Stumbling in the darkness, he hits the light switch and flings open the door in the same motion. Her resolve fails when she sees him standing there.
She trembles as she stands by the doorway, clutching the purse with Mark ’s note inside. The mascara has run down her face, mixing with streaks of soot from the fire. Tears stream down from her eyes leaving dark lines running down her face. "What happened to you, have you been in an accident? Where’s Mark ?" Josh yelled out his questions in a single breath without pausing. Anne collapses, falling like a leaf caught in a terrible gale. She lies, motionless on the grass, as he races to her side.
Read more at The Horror Trader
Buy the Curse of Mesphisto's Seed Here
