Evil Eternal Read Online Free Page B

jabbing it in the air with quick, jerky movements, anxious to plunge it into his heart.
    They too had become demons, which meant there was no hope of finding human survivors at the farmhouse. Their very bone structure had been altered by their possession. Bony ridges had broken out haphazardly across their faces, shoulders and legs. Their arms had become elongated, with fingertips that now ended around their lower calves. Thick clots of red-and-black blood cascaded from their fuchsia eyes. They snarled at him like cornered hyenas. Their stench was overpowering.
    Father Michael straightened up to his full height, his hands gripping the deadly crucifixes.
    One of them, the one with the trident who Father Michael believed to be Aaron, the oldest, spoke in a tongue that had been shredded by the extra rows of teeth that had grown in his mouth.
    “You die, Father fucker! Die like a cow like a sow like a pig like a bitch like a leech like a baby like a mother like…” He paused for a moment and smiled. “Like your wife.”
    It was meant to shatter his composure but it was a feeble attempt. He had seen and heard too much in his service of God to become unhinged from those words.
    He merely replied, “God bless you and may He pity your soul.”
    They attacked as one, all claws and teeth, the trident a lance of certain death.
    Father Michael jumped above their heads as they passed through the now-vacant space. He landed with a loud thud, facing the naked backs of the charging demon-children. With a quick snap of his wrist, a crucifix-dagger sliced through the air and directly into the spine of the demon holding his trident.
    It dropped face-first into the snow, dead before it hit the ground. A golden light spilled from the wound in its back, arching into the sky and disappearing into the snow squall. The demon’s skin turned a grayish color before shriveling up, bones popping from the pressure, until its carcass resembled a five-foot log of spoiled beef jerky. The casual passerby wouldn’t even give it a second glance, assuming it was a rotted hunk of tree limb.
    The remaining demon wailed in anger at his fallen brother.
    Father Michael quickly retrieved his trident while keeping his eyes on the demon. It rocked back and forth, its heavy breath cascading like smoke from its open mouth.
    Without warning, it rushed Father Michael again, arms outstretched, deadly talons ending from its fingertips. Father Michael sidestepped its charge like a veteran bullfighter, taking the opportunity to smash the butt of the trident into the demon’s face, crushing its left cheekbone. The demon swiped at thin air and whirled from the pain in its head.
    Father Michael was acting on pure instinct, his mind impervious to any thoughts that the demon he was about to kill had just recently been a small boy. In his time, he had killed thousands of demons, some of them even babies, transformed by the great evil into pure monstrosities. Even God’s will had its savage solutions. To be His servant meant to be good as well as unmerciful.
    “Come,” Father Michael shouted at the beast. “Let us be done with this and let me deliver you to your true Father.”
    The demon feebly tried to keep its left eye from falling out of the socket. It ignored the priest’s call to action.
    Sleet stung Father Michael’s face as he hurled the trident into the demon’s chest. The force of the trident flipped the demon on its back, kicking up an explosion of snow as it hit the ground. Three shafts of gold light spilled into the night. There was a brief rush of electricity, then the boy-demon, his body and soul, was silent.
    They had been easy, despite the ribs they had managed to break. Most newly transformed demons were. That left three members of the Carron family, plus their transient, if he had decided to stay for Father Michael’s arrival.
    Of that, Father Michael was certain.
    As he continued to the house, he contemplated the names of the remaining family members: