Read Online THE POWER OF THREE by Billie Sue Mosiman - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Billie Sue Mosiman
Ads: Link
work."
He is the Father of Whores, the Father of Slugs and Swine and Rabid Dogs.
Linda tried to block the talk from the walls. She tried to shut the doors in her mind.
Not this time , the walls said. We reign here. You have no power here. And neither does He .
A breeze came through the windows, rattling the drapes aside. The breeze changed into a wind. The drapes fluttered like the leathery wings of a bat, floating out from the windows. Linda and the priest looked at one another, sharing the same fear.
"You should go," she said. "The house is coming alive."
He shook his head, reached into a small pocket at the top of his vest and withdrew a crucifix.
The wind became storm and small, loose objects in the room prattled like naughty children, skipping across tabletops and the coffee table, falling off shelves and rolling beneath furniture.
Tell him to put it away! the walls screamed at her.
I won't, she told the forces building all around them.
"Father, this might get bad."
"I know that now," he said, standing with the crucifix in one hand, the Bible in the other. "I didn't believe you. I thought you might be having a mental breakdown. Now, I'm beginning to see the problem."
He sees Nothing ! He's blind as a turtle down a hole in the ground! Send him away!
"They're telling me to send you away." Linda stood too, reaching down to try to keep a small vase of flowers on the coffee table from tumbling over and spilling water. The wind only increased, the room feeling as if it had been turned into a wind tunnel.
"Then they really do talk to you?" the priest asked.
The paneled walls began to breathe, insanely bowing out into the room before being sucked back to lie flat as walls should. The priest gasped and began to mumble prayers. He clutched the crucifix and raised it above his head.
We'll kill him. The blood of a dead priest is just what we need.
Leave him alone. Linda sent the thought forcefully outward as if it were a dart. I'll make him leave.
"Father, I changed my mind. I don't think a blessing will do any good and you said yourself you aren't an exorcist. I need you to go now."
Too late. It was a chanting of voices, not just one. It was a cadre of souls locked in the walls, making their will known as one entity.
The wind swept along the floor like a sheering wind found in nature. It lifted the priest off his feet and flung him across the room onto the floor. He lost both the Bible and the crucifix. He began to keen and double up as if a hot fireplace poker was being stabbed into his gut.
"STOP IT!"
Not this time, Linda. We're taking him. We're taking you. We've waited long enough, but we needed two, always two. We knew you'd bring him.
#
In the dim hallway off the entrance, the child Diane Blume stood smiling like the devil Himself. She clapped her hands together in glee, going up on her tippy toes with excitement. The wind swirled all around her, leaving her in a perfect vacuum.
She was like Linda in only some ways. She had the ability to read minds--those of man, those of creature, and those that possessed houses, the spirits macabre that dwelled within walls and floors, in ceilings, in brick and mortar and wood. Yes, she had been granted that most ultimate gift. But beyond that, far beyond it,
He is the Father of Whores, the Father of Slugs and Swine and Rabid Dogs.
Linda tried to block the talk from the walls. She tried to shut the doors in her mind.
Not this time , the walls said. We reign here. You have no power here. And neither does He .
A breeze came through the windows, rattling the drapes aside. The breeze changed into a wind. The drapes fluttered like the leathery wings of a bat, floating out from the windows. Linda and the priest looked at one another, sharing the same fear.
"You should go," she said. "The house is coming alive."
He shook his head, reached into a small pocket at the top of his vest and withdrew a crucifix.
The wind became storm and small, loose objects in the room prattled like naughty children, skipping across tabletops and the coffee table, falling off shelves and rolling beneath furniture.
Tell him to put it away! the walls screamed at her.
I won't, she told the forces building all around them.
"Father, this might get bad."
"I know that now," he said, standing with the crucifix in one hand, the Bible in the other. "I didn't believe you. I thought you might be having a mental breakdown. Now, I'm beginning to see the problem."
He sees Nothing ! He's blind as a turtle down a hole in the ground! Send him away!
"They're telling me to send you away." Linda stood too, reaching down to try to keep a small vase of flowers on the coffee table from tumbling over and spilling water. The wind only increased, the room feeling as if it had been turned into a wind tunnel.
"Then they really do talk to you?" the priest asked.
The paneled walls began to breathe, insanely bowing out into the room before being sucked back to lie flat as walls should. The priest gasped and began to mumble prayers. He clutched the crucifix and raised it above his head.
We'll kill him. The blood of a dead priest is just what we need.
Leave him alone. Linda sent the thought forcefully outward as if it were a dart. I'll make him leave.
"Father, I changed my mind. I don't think a blessing will do any good and you said yourself you aren't an exorcist. I need you to go now."
Too late. It was a chanting of voices, not just one. It was a cadre of souls locked in the walls, making their will known as one entity.
The wind swept along the floor like a sheering wind found in nature. It lifted the priest off his feet and flung him across the room onto the floor. He lost both the Bible and the crucifix. He began to keen and double up as if a hot fireplace poker was being stabbed into his gut.
"STOP IT!"
Not this time, Linda. We're taking him. We're taking you. We've waited long enough, but we needed two, always two. We knew you'd bring him.
#
In the dim hallway off the entrance, the child Diane Blume stood smiling like the devil Himself. She clapped her hands together in glee, going up on her tippy toes with excitement. The wind swirled all around her, leaving her in a perfect vacuum.
She was like Linda in only some ways. She had the ability to read minds--those of man, those of creature, and those that possessed houses, the spirits macabre that dwelled within walls and floors, in ceilings, in brick and mortar and wood. Yes, she had been granted that most ultimate gift. But beyond that, far beyond it,
Similar Books
