Kill For Satan Read online

  Kill For Satan! copyright © 2018 by Bryan Smith. All rights reserved.

  Grindhouse Press

  PO BOX 521

  Dayton, Ohio 45401

  Grindhouse Press logo and all related artwork copyright © 2018 by Brandon Duncan. All rights reserved.

  Cover design copyright Matthew Revert © 2018. All rights reserved.

  Grindhouse Press #042

  ISBN-10: 1-941918-35-2

  ISBN-13: 978-1-941918-35-7

  This is a work of fiction. All characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious and any resemblance to real people or events is purely coincidental.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including mechanical, electric, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the publisher or

  DEDICATION

  In memory of Molly

  Other titles by Bryan Smith

  House of Blood

  Rock and Roll Reform School Zombies

  Darkened

  Highways to Hell

  The Dark Ones

  Some Crazy Fucking Shit That Happened One Day

  The Freakshow

  Soultaker

  Queen of Blood

  Grimm Awakening

  Blood and Whiskey

  The Halloween Bride

  The Diabolical Conspiracy

  Deathbringer

  Strange Ways

  Slowly We Rot

  Surrounded By Bastards

  The Reborn

  Bloodrush

  All Hallow’s Dead

  Christmas Eve on Haunted Hill

  Seven Deadly Tales of Terror

  The Late Night Horror Show

  Go Kill Crazy!

  Wicked Kayla

  Murder Squad

  Last Day

  Depraved

  Depraved 2

  Depraved 3

  68 Kill

  68 Kill Part 2

  Kayla and The Devil (Kayla Monroe: Haunted World Book 1)

  Kayla Undead (Kayla Monroe: Haunted World Book 2)

  The Killing Kind

  The Killing Kind 2

  Dead Stripper Storage

  ONE

  Followers of the dark faith began to gather at the designated meeting spot deep in the woods in the hour before midnight. It was the night before Halloween and there was a certain uncanny magic in the air, a sense of something momentous about to occur. Something special and life-altering. Each of the gathered acolytes felt it deep in their bones. There had been no promise of anything of the sort at the most recent gathering, thus none of them had any reason to expect anything beyond the usual prior to entering the woods that night.

  Not that they would have needed such a promise to entice them into attending the monthly midnight mass, which was always plenty exciting even without the prospect of something extra. Each mass centered around a blood sacrifice ceremony, which was followed by a wanton orgy around a blazing bonfire. Ritual murder and a subsequent descent into uninhibited hedonism would normally be an impossible act to follow.

  Yet that sense of being on the cusp of something of great import was undeniable. A quiet sense of solemn duty was the normal way of things in the moments before the beginning of each mass. The faithful usually did not interact with each other as they made their way to the big clearing where the monthly ceremonies were always held. It was a time for silent introspection.

  Tonight was different. It felt that way to each of the acolytes from the moment they entered the woods. The air felt charged. Alive with something strange and exciting. Something from beyond the natural world. The kinship that always existed between them felt stronger than ever, magnified a thousand-fold. They were collectively in on something that would change their lives forever. What that might be was yet unknown, but the mystery at the heart of what they were all feeling heightened the overriding sense of elation. The autumn evening was crisply cold, but the chill was barely felt as the faithful continued the newly joyful march through the woods, a pleasant warmth suffusing them long before they reached the clearing and the bonfire already burning there.

  Micah Russo was one of the newest members of the unholy congregation. Tonight’s mass would only be his second. He’d been enticed into joining the faith by the girl he was dating, a pale-skinned and dark-haired gothic beauty he’d met at the new record store in town a couple months back. Her delicately pretty features and quirky personal style had entranced him from the start. She dressed all in black all the time. Her fingers and the backs of her hands were heavily tattooed with occult symbols. Another tattoo, this one a portrait-quality rendering of Vampira, adorned her upper right arm. The jewelry she wore included skull rings and severed head earrings. Cynthia Winthrop was her given name, but she preferred the alternate moniker Sindie Midnight. It was the name she used for promoting her art. Micah’s mother never called his girlfriend by either name, instead referring to her most often as “that spooky little bitch”.

  She was always after him to dump Sindie and date a more normal girl, but for Micah that wasn’t even close to being an option. He was too much under her spell, hopelessly enthralled by everything about her. There was nothing he wouldn’t do for her, no sacrifice he wouldn’t make on her behalf. His intensity of feeling was matched—and perhaps even exceeded—by what she felt for him. She told him they would someday marry little more than a week after they met, after which she gave him money to buy her an engagement ring.

  Micah was embarrassed because he was unemployed and barely had any money of his own. He felt he should get a job and buy her a ring after he’d legitimately earned some cash. She told him she didn’t want that. Between her job at the record store and her rapidly increasing income from selling her macabre artwork, she made more than enough money for both of them. A job would only distract him from devoting every waking minute of every day to worshipping her.

  “I’m all you need,” she told him. “All you’ll ever need.”

  That was all he needed to hear. He dropped all pretense of taking on anything resembling a traditional male role in the relationship, deferring to Sindie in all matters and never voicing disagreement with her about anything. He did all this without regret and had no sense of anything being even slightly amiss until the night she told him about her devotion to Satan.

  At first he didn’t quite understand what she was telling him. He thought she maybe belonged to one of these modern so-called “Satanic” groups that didn’t actually believe in the existence of any demonic evil entity. He was aware of those groups from things on the internet. They used Satan as a provocative and subversive means of delivering progressive messages. They were social activists, not true devotees of the dark path.

  As it turned out, Sindie was not talking about groups like that.

  Quite the contrary.

  She believed wholeheartedly in the existence of Satan, and that he actively worked to spread evil throughout the world with the aim of eventually bringing about the fall of mankind. Even after she told him this, he wasn’t sure he believed her. She was playing with him. Telling an elaborate joke. She insisted otherwise, but he continued clinging to this idea until she took him to his first midnight mass a month ago. On that night, he was thoroughly and permanently disabused of the notion. When it came to the dark lord, she was absolutely a true believer, as were all the other members of the unholy congregation.

  In the early stages of that first mass, he persisted in believing it was an essentially harmless activity. He thought of it as Satanic cosplay. That illusion ended with the blood sacrifice. A beautiful but drugged-looking young woman was dragged into the clearing and placed on the altar. Another woman approached the altar and stood over
the drugged woman. This other woman wore a long velvet cape and nothing beneath. A white plague mask with a long beak covered the top half of her face. The sight of her large breasts and shapely body stirred something shameful in Micah. Shameful because it was the first flicker of lust he’d felt for anyone other than Sindie since they’d started dating. It was confusing because it felt like an intrusion on the all-consuming connection they shared.

  “Who is that?” he asked her.

  Sindie smiled but didn’t look at him. Her gaze was riveted to the ceremony. “The priestess,” came her whispered reply.

  Then she shushed him with a finger pressed to her lips.

  The priestess had a strange-looking dagger. It had an ornate hilt and a long blade forged to mimic the form of a slithering snake. As Micah watched with dawning trepidation, she raised the dagger high over her head. A chant rose up from the congregation. Hail Satan, glorious and strong. Hail Satan, master of all. It went on like that with multiple variations. Some Latin phrases were mixed in. The chanting was pretty evil-sounding out there in the dark woods, but Micah also thought it a bit silly, like something out of a cheesy made-for-TV movie from the ’70s about Satanic school girls.

  That impression lasted until the priestess brought the dagger viciously downward. The blade pierced the drugged girl’s abdomen. Blood gushed out of the wound when the priestess yanked it out again. The girl on the altar came out of her stupor as the pain ripped through her. She screamed and tried to sit up, but the priestess brought the dagger down again, this time plunging it in just beneath the woman’s sternum. The priestess stabbed the woman several more times, continuing even after she’d stopped moving. By the time she was finished, the front of her body was coated in gore. She stepped back and two male members of the congregation came forward. A box was set on the altar. Inside it were the tools of a coroner. The dead woman’s chest was opened and her ribs cracked and spread apart. Her heart was then surgically removed and presented to the priestess, who held it over her head and said some stuff about honoring Satan while begging him to accept this sacrifice as proof of the congregation’s devotion.

  Micah was stunned.

  No part of him had expected to see an actual murder that night. Realizing he was among a large group of dangerous people unlikely to be sympathetic, he worked hard to keep his shock contained. When Sindie gave him a look of expectant delight, he somehow summoned a fake smile. He tried hard to make her think he was as into what was happening as she was. Deception on a scale so big wasn’t normally something he could manage, but he was aided by the even bigger distraction that followed.

  Members of the congregation were required to disrobe upon entering the so-called “sacred circle”, their name for the clearing where their gatherings were held. They then donned robes and gathered around the large wooden platform upon which the altar rested. All acolytes had brought along their own ankle-length hooded robes, it seemed. Sindie had one for him and a smaller one for herself. Wearing his robe that night, Micah felt like a fraud. He wasn’t anything close to being a real Satanist, not even the pretend kind. Unfortunately, it seemed he was in love with one.

  After the priestess droned on a while longer about how awesome Satan was, the people around him began to remove their robes. Soon every one of them, even Sindie, was standing naked in the clearing. He was the only one still wearing his robe, which was damn awkward. Everyone else was staring at him. Wilting beneath the attention, he reluctantly removed his robe and stood naked under the moonlight with the rest of them.

  Sindie had been watching him in a way that could be interpreted as at least mildly distrusting, but when the robe came off, she smiled and nodded in approval. Then she went over to another attractive young woman and started making out with her. She reached between the girl’s legs and slid her fingers into her pussy. Soon they were rolling around on the ground together. This produced yet another moment of profound and dizzying shock for Micah. His girlfriend, the person he loved more than anyone else in the world, was suddenly fucking some chick he’d never seen before right in front of him. He felt hurt and betrayed. He had tears in his eyes. The hurt was tempered somewhat when he realized similar things were happening all around him. Everywhere he looked, people were copulating. Every possible sexual combination was on open, brazen display.

  He remembered thinking, Holy shit, it’s a fucking orgy!

  An older lady he recognized as one of his teachers from high school came over and grabbed him by the dick. The woman was maybe thirty years his senior and had large, saggy tits, but he was stunned to realize he was rock hard. She turned around and pushed her ass at him, inviting him to penetrate her from behind. He did so at once, twisting his head around to watch what Sindie was doing to that girl while he banged the shit out of his old algebra teacher. The teacher’s pussy was not the last his cock penetrated that night. There were several others, including that of Sindie’s first partner of the night. At one point he saw Sindie getting double-teamed by a pair of muscular guys and felt another flare of jealousy and anger.

  Then, from seemingly out of nowhere, the priestess was standing before him. No longer wearing the cape, but with the top part of her face still obscured by the creepy white plague mask. Her torso was swathed in gore. She grabbed him by the throat and rode him to the ground, mounting him and riding his dick in a ferocious frenzy while maintaining her hold on his throat. The sway and jiggle of her tits was hypnotic. While he was inside the priestess, his dick felt huge, like some kind of monstrous super dick. Which was weird, because he was pretty sure his penis size was roughly average. The ecstasy was so intense it made him cry. Their coupling seemed to go on forever while the orgy swirled around them. There was no room in his head for anything other than the priestess and what she was doing to him. When she finally slapped him and told him to come, he screamed and felt like his whole body was exploding. The sensation was consciousness-obliterating. The world went away for a bit. When it came back into focus, the priestess was gone. He looked for her and couldn’t find her. He wandered around the sacred circle looking for her, feeling forlorn and lost.

  Eventually, Sindie caught up to him and thrust his regular clothes into his hands. Only then did he realize the orgy was over. People were getting dressed and slipping away into the woods. Micah was confused. It was as if a spell had been broken. He thought about all the people he’d copulated with that night and couldn’t believe it. How he’d managed to keep going all that time without coming until the priestess commanded it was baffling. It didn’t seem possible and yet he knew it had happened. He asked Sindie about it, but she told him she didn’t want to talk about it until they were out of the woods.

  Even later, though, she never provided any real answers, except to say it was all about glorifying Satan and expressing contempt for God’s laws. That part he could grasp on a theoretical level, even if it was batshit crazy, but he still couldn’t wrap his head around so many other things. How he’d wound up fucking so many people he would normally have no desire to fuck, for example. It was as if his own will had been suspended and overridden by some outside imperative. By some outside consciousness. It freaked him out.

  He told himself he’d never let Sindie drag him to another midnight mass in the fucking woods, even if she threatened to break up with him over it. He was still crazy about her, but that sense of losing control of his own body and mind was something he never wanted to experience again. Nor did he have any desire to ever again be among a group of people who stood by and watched while an innocent woman got murdered, then seemed to revel in it.

  He tried to put the whole thing out of his mind, but was only partially successful. During the daytime, when he was hanging out at the record store with Sindie, he was mostly able to avoid thinking about it. He listened to music and looked at records while talking to Sindie about mundane things. What they might name their kids someday, if they ever had any. The house they would get once she became rich and famous for her art. These were all pleasant
distractions that allowed him the illusion of things being normal.

  At night it was different. The priestess haunted his dreams. She did things to him. Unspeakably vile and degenerate things that nonetheless felt so good. On several occasions he’d wake up to find the bedsheets stained with his nocturnal emissions. If she noticed this, Sindie never said anything about it.

  Then it started to get toward late October. The time for the next mass was approaching. Sindie reminded him it was coming up and they would definitely be attending. Micah attempted to tell her of his resolve to never go again, but she told him to shut up with that nonsense. He was going, end of story. The lethal look in her eyes as she said this was enough to convince him to withhold any further gestures of defiance.

  He was feeling desperate by the time the day of the mass came around. The hours kept slipping away and before he knew it he was walking through the woods with Sindie. He felt small and powerless. It was all going to happen again and there was no way he could stop it. A small spark of defiance ignited in his brain. There was still time to turn around and run out of these woods. He had a will of his own, feeble though it seemed at times. All he had to do was exercise it and leave all this insanity behind forever. He could take Sindie’s Kia Sorrento and some of her money and flee town. Or he could move back in with his mother and start going to church every Sunday, maybe devote himself to Jesus and spend his days begging for forgiveness for his sins.

  Then he felt it.

  That strange charge in the air. The pleasant way it seemed to suffuse every pore of his body. Before long he became aware of the dopey grin on his face. He looked at Sindie and said, “Do you feel that? What the hell is that?”

  She smiled and squeezed his hand. “The presence of Satan. I’ve only felt it once before, but it’s something you never forget. There’s nothing like it. Nothing as good. Not even fucking close.”