Darkside Dreams (Darkside Dreams - Series 1) Page 2

  The doors at the top of those steps opened. After a few moments a hooded figure emerged, dressed in a flowing white garment with a wide, red, billowing sash. He strode gracefully down the steps and through the mist, parting it to either side in curling waves. He came up to the gate, brandishing his right hand in the gesture of some religious orator.

  As he drew near, the man lowered his hood and revealed a veritable waterfall of brunette hair. That, along with his pointed beard, his large eyes, and his sharp nose, gave him the exact look of Jesus Christ himself. Perhaps not the historically accurate look, but the one most people knew.

  His smile was gentle, and his voice was soft as he lay a hand against the bars of the gate and spoke.

  "Raymond Bridges,” the man said.

  Ray stood in confused silence, wondering if the man was seconds away from completing a sentence or simply letting him know that he somehow already knew his name.

  “Officer Bridges is fine,” Ray finally remarked after the strange Jesus looking figure remained silent. Ray took out his proper flashlight and beamed it straight into the guy's eyes. His pupils dilated, but he didn't blink or narrow his eyes at all.

  “You too will be judged should you choose to enter. Is that what you want, Officer Bridges?”

  “Is that some kind of threat?” Ray asked, placing his hand on the butt if his sidearm once again.

  “A simple question, my child. Nothing more, nothing less,” the man remarked.

  “Is this some kind of cosplay deal or something?” Ray asked, wondering if the odd man was acting so strange out of a desire to remain in character.

  “How may I assist you, Officer Bridges?” the man inquired.

  "You probably already know this, but we received a call about a disturbance out here. I just need to get inside and take a look. Just need to see what's going on, that's all."

  The Jesus look-alike nodded and his peaceful expression momentarily ignited with glee. "Of course! For what good is the Lord's work without a witness!” he chimed, just before his stoic expression returned. “I will delay your judgement, Officer Bridges, and for now you are granted safe passage, that you may bear witness to the work that I have done.”

  “What work? What are you talking about?” Ray called out as the man turned and left the gate without another word, going back the way he came and again parting the mists which had only just settled back into place. Raymond called after him again but the man ignored his words, climbed the steps, and disappeared inside the Center. The door swung shut behind him, closing softly on hydraulic hinges.

  Ray was just about to press the call button once again when, to his surprise, a buzzing sound suddenly rang out, causing the front gate to automatically open along mechanical tracks.

  Ray looked back at his car, trying to determine if he should drive it inside and keep it close to the door. He also considered arming himself with the heavier weaponry he kept in the trunk just in case, but he ultimately decided against it.

  He looked back inside the compound, at the calm mists and the silent gardens of the Rapture Center. From the outside it sure didn't look like anything was out of the ordinary, but he couldn't ignore the disturbance call, the crazy old man in the street, and certainly not the bizarre Jesus look-alike who had just seemingly threatened him with his coded judgement babble. Still, bringing out the big guns was probably a bit much for what could very well end up being a false alarm.

  Probably nothing here, Ray thought as he eyed the front entrance to the main building. I'll just take a peek around then head back to the station. Ten minutes, tops, Ray continued as he pictured himself back in his cruiser and heading home.

  Humming to himself, he walked slowly up the path toward the building, shining the strong beam of his flashlight around. Nothing but wet grass and drooping flowers so far.

  The front entrance was unlocked and therefore Ray opened the door with ease and then stepped into the Center.

  It was dark inside. The only light visible was shining from somewhere down a hall, suffusing the grand entry room with the softest of glows. Ray twisted the end of his flashlight, which caused the light to dim, but also to widen and cover a broader area.

  That's when he saw the bodies. At first he thought he was looking at religious iconography. Variations of the standard bloody, crucified Jesus you see everywhere. These were highly realistic, though, displayed in demeaning heaps on the floor. In various states of agony, and frozen into place. One of them was even draped over a bench, fingers and toes hanging to the floor on either side.

  He knew what a dead body generally looked like; especially one that had been dead for longer than ten or twenty minutes. With every passing minute, they looked less like a human being and more like a doll, a dull simulacrum. The skin went pale and waxy, depending on the amount of blood loss. The limbs went stiff. If the body was moved after rigor mortis set in, the posture of death would be maintained and the resulting appearance of the body would be even more surreal, even less human.

  Ray took a deep breath, and the thick, metallic stench of blood filled his nose.

  A spike of fear and shock rippled through him like a jolt of electricity. He spun around and drew his sidearm, resting his gun hand over the wrist of the one holding the flashlight.

  Ray wanted to believe otherwise, but he knew these people were dead. Long since deceased. Hence the unreal appearance. Otherwise he never would have mistaken them for statues or dummies.

  He turned in a slow circle, surveying the room. Looking for any signs of movement. This was a big place. An atrium. Three levels. Doors everywhere. Offshoot hallways, leading to God knows where.

  The man he had seen, the one who both looked and spoke like a stereotypical Jesus Christ, had been through here less than a minute ago. He had briefly spoken with Ray and even buzzed him in, but, why didn't he say anything about the bodies? And then there was the thinly veiled judgement threats.

  This man was the killer. Ray was sure of it and it was clear that his apparent killing spree was the “work” that he had wanted Ray to witness. Still, Ray wished that he would have gotten a better look at the Jesus imposter. After years of analyzing blood spatter, he could tell if someone had been present at a killing, just by the size and shape of blood spots on his or her clothing. It bothered him that he couldn't recall if the strange man had blood on his robe, but he was still convinced that the look-alike was likely the culprit.

  On reflex, Ray tapped his hat light back on and used the flashlight hand to manipulate his radio.

  "Officer Bridges, requesting immediate assistance," he said. "Officer Bridges. Immediate backup required at the Holy Rapture Center. Multiple homicides. Perpetrator still in the vicinity... exact whereabouts unknown."

  No answer. But why? Ray knew he should have heard word of backup being on its way immediately, given the nature of his request. But now thirty or forty seconds had passed, and he was getting nothing but radio silence. Not even the dispatcher had replied.

  He switched his radio to a more general channel. Still, he heard nothing but static and a bit of interference, likely from a signal jammer hidden somewhere on the premises.

  If he wanted a clear signal, he would have to go back outside and put some distance between him and the compound. But that would mean leaving the scene. An act of cowardice, in Ray's mind. He had not yet fully assessed the threat, and he couldn't shake the feeling that there might be survivors farther inside the building, people who might need his help. People who could easily lose their lives in the time it would take him to leave the compound to call for backup.

  Ray stared at the red button on the back of his handset and wondered if he should use it. The button would trigger a subsystem that worked on different tech. Top secret stuff. No signal jammer could block it but it was only to be used in extreme cases - large scale terrorist attacks and such. One press of that button and the whole damn station would likely respond, even at that time of night. Ray took another look at the bodies - twelve of them in all and this was just the front room. How many more were there? How many more lost souls would he encounter as he made his way through the building?

  Finally Ray took a deep breath and pressed the red button. He had never used it before but he had a good idea of what would happen next. The pulse would go out. The dispatcher would receive it and immediately send backup. Armed to the teeth, armored to the gills, ready for anything.

  Ray moved towards the bodies and knelt among them, performing a cursory examination without touching anything. He wanted to know exactly how they were killed, in order to understand what had happened and to gain a better idea of what to watch out for.

  Each body seemed about the same. Precision blade strikes to the throat and wrists. The same on every one of them.

  How long would it take for someone to be sliced in these three places? About five or ten seconds, maybe? Ray wondered why a vast majority of the victims didn't use that time to flee. Did they willingly subject themselves to this? The scene just didn't make sense to the veteran cop. He had seen his fair share of crazy crime scenes but this one was by far the worst.

  As Ray looked around for more clues an altar stood out to him. It was a podium of some sort but it didn't look like a permanent fixture. It was just a simple wooden stand, sitting there on the floor nearby. Perhaps it had been brought there for a single purpose, or for a ritual that was only performed on special occasions.

  A bunch of pillows were scattered before the altar. Ray walked over and examined them by flashlight. Knee indentations had been furrowed deep in each of them. Old pillows. Used for years, probably. They couldn't offer much cushion anymore, but Ray supposed they were better than kneeling on the bare floor.

  Ray moved behind the altar. There was, quite expectedly, a bibl
e sitting on it. A paper bookmark was sticking out of the bible. Out of both curiosity and instinct, Ray used the corner of a handkerchief he kept in his pocket to flip the book open. He pushed the bookmark aside, and saw that a short passage had been highlighted: "Behold, I am coming soon, bringing my recompense with me, to repay everyone for what he has done."

  Scanning through the rest of the page, Ray skimmed several passages about the return of Jesus Christ.

  Ray rolled his eyes and sighed. To him, religious types were always going on about the return, Judgment Day, the Apocalypse, yadda-yadda. He couldn't help but wonder if they thrived on making people scared. Whatever the case, Ray never bought into it, but that didn't mean he wasn't worried.

  He wasn't concerned about the return of some judgmental Messiah though. He was concerned about the very real madman who was still running amok inside the building, possibly hunting other parishioners who, based on their beliefs, might not be inclined to fight back.

  The last thing Ray wanted was to go deeper into the building before backup arrived, but his desire to save as many lives as possible proved stronger than his will to save his own ass. Every second that passed was another that the killer could use to find his next victim; assuming there was anyone else left alive.

  Only one way to find out, Ray thought as he took a deep breath and stepped out into the center of the atrium.

  He moved back toward the front doors, and looked along the wall to either side. No buttons or anything there. Nothing that could be used to control the security gate. He figured those controls must be located in a side room. If he could find them, he would have a good idea of which general direction the killer had gone.

  Ray kept his head on a swivel as he cautiously made his way down a hallway to the left of the front doors. He reached an intersection, and went left again, stepping into a wing of the building that jutted out past the doors themselves.

  Here he found a small security booth, with an array of security monitors and a simple control panel. The booth was an offshoot of the main building, sharing only its transparent front entrance with the main structure. This must have been where the gate was controlled. But the booth was abandoned. Apparently, there was no security guard on duty that night. Or perhaps they too had been killed.

  There were very few camera feeds available on the monitors. One of them showed the blood riddled atrium where Ray had just been. No activity there. Another monitor showed a hallway elsewhere, carpeted in a plush velvet runner and lined with statues. A set of doors stood at the end of the hall. The doors were shut tight and from what Ray could see this area was clear.

  A third feed showed a cafeteria where the parishioners likely had their meals, but instead of warm trays of food, cold heaps of dead bodies lay strewn across the tables. Twice as many people had died in this room, and not from precise blade strokes to the neck and wrists like the victims in the atrium. Ray's jaw tightened with anger and grief as he stared in horror at the mangled corpses that littered the screen. Broken necks, limbs ripped from their respective sockets… It was like nothing Ray had ever seen before. Had these people refused to succumb to the ritual that took place in the atrium? Was this their punishment for their refusal?

  "What the hell is going on here?” Ray thought, completely baffled as to how the perp had managed to inflict the seemingly superhuman level of carnage that he now saw before him.

  Ray turned his attention to the fourth monitor, looking for any sign of the mysterious Jesus look-alike. This screen displayed another hallway lined with numerous colonial doors on each side. This area was much less lavish than the rest of the building and Ray guessed that it was likely a residential area.

  At first Ray saw nothing. Then a flash of movement that appeared at the bottom of the screen caught his eye. He quickly reached for a tiny joystick on the security console, and manipulated the camera downward in time to see a man in bloody, disheveled robes running past, headed down the hall at a breakneck speed. The man's eyes bulged with terror, and his mouth gaped open as he fled for dear life. There was no audio, but Ray still felt he could hear the man's screams and panicked breathing.

  Just as the frenzied man disappeared from the frame the Jesus-looking fellow appeared at the end of the hallway and strolled past, headed in the same direction. He was as nonchalant as ever. Completely unhurried as he pursued his would-be victim. The look-alike paused once he reached the center of the hallway and looked directly into the camera. It was as if he somehow knew Ray was watching him.

  The peaceful look plastered across this man's Jesus-like face angered Ray beyond belief. Ray wasn't a particularly religious man, but he still considered the killer’s actions to be among the most heinous he had ever witnessed. Not only was this guy carrying out a mass murder of worshippers but he actually had the nerve to dress himself up as Jesus while he did it.

  Ray wondered if the guy was crazy. A delusional, hyper-religious loon who might even believe he was the Messiah. But there was no time to dwell on the guy's mental state. Not when he was actively hunting another worshiper.

  A sudden THUD against the top of the security booth startled Ray. Ready for anything, Ray thrust his pistol before him and slipped out of the booth's rear exit. Nothing. Just a large raccoon standing on all fours atop the booth.

  Ray released a sigh of relief while he followed the raccoon's distant gaze. Several yards away stood a bony fox, perched on one of the compound's brick and mortar gateposts. The malnourished fox’s eyes glowed with a silvery glare as the moonlight glinted against its gaze. The predator hungrily eyed the racoon but ultimately kept his distance due to Ray's presence.

  In a matter of seconds the creatures were gone. Scurrying away into the night, no doubt destined to continue their game of cat and mouse elsewhere.

  “Dammit!” Ray cursed as he remembered the other game of cat and mouse that was happening just inside the building. He quickly re-entered the security booth and looked to the fourth monitor, but he was too late. The Jesus impersonator had vanished.

  Ray used the control panel to move the camera around, getting a good idea of the hall's layout. He then looked around the booth for anything he could use to help him navigate through the large building. He found a series of four laminated sheets, fixed together by a ring driven through the upper left corner. Each sheet showed a diagram of a different level of the facility. Three floors, and a basement.

  He opened the interior door and exited the booth, storming back into the building as quickly as he could. Ray glanced down at the laminated sheets and abruptly changed his course after he noticed a corridor marked CONGREGATION QUARTERS along the rear wall of the second floor.

  Back out into the atrium. He ran past the bodies, past the altar where this whole nightmare might have begun. He soon found spiral stairs, leading down to the basement and also up all the way to the third level. Ray went up one floor, stepping over yet another cadaver as he hopped onto the second-floor landing.

  This part of the building was huge, at least two hundred rooms. But it was designed in a way that any one of them could be reached fairly quickly, if you knew where you were going. Thanks to the laminated sheets in his hands Ray had a pretty good idea of where he needed to be.

  He ran toward a distant light, and found himself in the same hallway he had seen on the camera feed. And there was the camera, a barely noticeable little thing sticking out of the wall on a tiny, articulated stem.

  No sign of the killer or his soon-to-be-victim. But Ray knew which direction the screaming man had fled.

  Looking at the map again, he saw a way to maybe cut them off. He could go around, down an adjacent hall, and meet them somewhere near a room marked ARCHIVE C.

  Turning on his heel, he ran back to the atrium balcony, along it for about forty feet, and then cut into another offshoot hallway.

  He ran forward, through the dark, jumping over a laundry cart that had been knocked over. He saw, but did not dwell on, another dead body nearby. This one was a nun. Or at least she used to be. Probably on her route, doing her duties as a Sister, when the madman decided to cut her down.

  Ray didn't have an overabundance of respect for hardcore religious types. In his heart of hearts he thought they were all nuts. But there was a big difference between a nut and a psychopath. A clear-cut line that separated a zealot from a murderer. He could tolerate the existence of one, but not the other.