Radu-Chapter XXXVI (A Novel by Patrick Kelley)

Previous Installments-
Part One
Prologue and Chapters I-X
Part Two
Chapter XI
Chapter XII
Chapter XIII
Chapter XIV
Chapter XV
Chapter XVI
Chapter XVII
Chapter XVIII
Chapter XIX
Chapter XX
Chapter XXI
Chapter XXII
PartThree
Chapter XXIII
Chapter XXIV
Chapter XXV
Chapter XXVI
Chapter XXVII
Chapter XXVIII
Chapter XXIX
Chapter XXX
Chapter XXXI
Chapter XXXII
Chapter XXXIII
Chapter XXXIV
Chapter XXXV
Radu-Chapter XXXVI (A Novel by Patrick Kelley)
6 pages approximate
Sister Agnes knew these days that there was an evil force surrounding her. Wherever she went, she felt the eyes of an abomination piercing her soul. It wanted her. She knew of no man who ever so badly wanted her. At times, it drained her energy, but she always recovered through prayer and meditation. She would keep the depression at bay for some time, but just when it seemed she won, it returned stronger than ever. Never before had she experienced anything like it.

She knew she had to do something. She now had the children to consider. Why in God’s name, she wondered, did she ever allow herself to be convinced to bring them with her to Baltimore? Now, one of them was gone. The oldest of the girls, Elena, had in fact been missing for over a month.

The oldest boy, Augusto, was the last to see her. The two of them were out for a walk, when they saw a woman who looked to be in the throes of misery. She looked to be suffering the ravages of a serious illness, her skin afflicted with what seemed to be some form of leprosy. She stank of death, and could not speak, could make no intelligible sounds at all, but instead merely garbled in animalistic, guttural tones.

“She scared me,” he said. “She looked and acted almost like a wounded animal. I tried to tell Elena we should leave, but she insisted we should try to help her. I left, thinking Elena would come along, but when she did not, I doubled back. By the time I returned, Elena was gone, and so was the woman. I hurried back here, and as I did a car went by. I could swear I saw the woman sitting in the front passenger’s seat. A man was driving, but I could not make him out. He drove by too fast for me to get a license number, and by the time I thought about that, it was too late.”

Augusto was obviously distraught, and when she reported this story to the police, they questioned not only the boy, but all the other children as well. They took him to the police station, and Agnes accompanied him, sitting at his side as he described the strange woman. Then, they showed him pictures. He looked through more than a thousand of them until he found a photo of the woman he insisted was the one he saw.

To their surprise, and to the dismay of Agnes, he identified a woman who turned out to be dead for more than two years, a woman by the name of Raven Randall. Yet, Augusto was adamant. It was she, he insisted.

The police regarded him with some suspicion, and asked him impertinent questions concerning his feelings towards Elena? Did he think of her as like a sister, or a friend, or possibly as a girlfriend? Was she nice, or was she hateful? They asked him if they ever fought or argued over any matter, no matter how trivia?

Augusto was overweight for fourteen years and considered Elena as a part of his family, so these questions both embarrassed and angered him. As he was a sullen boy anyway, this made them look upon him with even greater suspicion, but in due course, they relented. They stopped by periodically those first couple of weeks, but then stopped, though they assured her they would never cease looking for the girl.

They questioned all of the other children too, but they likewise could tell them nothing. Agnes kept the children close to her at all times.

Then, one night, Elena returned, just suddenly appearing at the doorstep of the big house which Phillip Khoska, her brother, earlier purchased for the use of Agnes and the children as a temporary orphanage. Now, Phillip lay in a coma, an attempted suicide, while her older brother Jonathon was dead, shot down in the office of Michael’s own church. Her older sister Dorothy herself was dead, also murdered, and her niece, Dorothy’s daughter, seemed to have disappeared altogether.

Although Agnes was overjoyed to see Elena, the girl looked spiritually dead. The once gleaming light that shone from her hazel eyes now was but a vacant stare. Agnes knew what that look meant in most cases involving young girls missing for long periods, and she immediately prayed this was not the case with Elena.

Elena knew her, knew all the other children, and yet insisted she did not remember where she had been or what had happened while she was gone. The police questioned her, of course, as did a Social Services agent, but no one could make any sense or jar Elena’s memories. She seemed to have complete amnesia insofar as the events of the last several weeks, from the time of her disappearance. In fact, the last thing she remembered was earlier in the day, when she and Eitan, another of the boys, were sitting in the family room watching television and drinking hot chocolate, well before she and Augusto left the house for a walk.

Naturally, the police questioned both boys, and the other children, but no one had any recollections. Finally, in desperation, the police showed her a picture of Raven Randall, but this as well elicited no response from Elena. Naturally, a doctor examined her, seemingly to no avail-at least not at first.

Agnes soon received word of a strange anomaly in Elena’s blood, an interesting component that seemed to lend itself to a rare though not unknown replication faculty. She found herself in the office of Doctor McCann, her father’s personal physician, who seemed curiously puzzled by the anomaly-not only puzzled, but troubled.

He talked to Elena at some length, but the girl yet remembered nothing.

“Has she ever been to Johns Hopkins at any time, including before her disappearance?”

“Of course not,” Agnes replied. “Why should she?”

“Well, this enzyme in her blood is almost identical to an experimental compound which has been successful in treating various conditions of a serious nature. At the same time, the FDA has not approved it for general use. Its use requires signed consent. Due to its experimental and still unknown nature, Johns Hopkins reserves it for use only in the most extreme circumstances, when no other course of treatment is useful or practical. Yet, here it is, within her blood. I can only consider it a case of cross-contamination. Yet, for this to be the case, she would almost have to have been treated at a Johns Hopkins facility.”

“That is impossible,” Agnes assured him. “There must be some other answer.”

“She suffered no traumatic injuries of which you are aware?” he asked. “I am particularly concerned about an apparent injury to her neck. Although it seems healed, I detected earlier the signs of a previous wound, which on the face of it would ordinarily be fatal in nature. In fact, it appears her jugular vein was at one point ripped open”

“I have known this girl for years,” Agnes assured him. “She has never had so much as a sprained muscle, and has rarely been ill at all. She had the flu once, more than seven years ago, and that is about it. I am curious though, and I do not know how to ask. But, since she was gone for so long and since she seems to have blocked everything out of her conscious memory”-

“She is still a virgin,” he assured her, aware of where she was going. “She was not raped or molested in any way sexually, I assure you. My own private opinion is, she seems to have suffered some kind of emotional breakdown and wandered off on her own. Perhaps she simply wandered the streets, picking up food here and there, possibly even benefiting from the kindness of passing strangers who mistook her simply for a child from a poverty-stricken family, possibly even an orphaned one. Something like this, while unlikely, would seem to be the only explanation that might make any sense.

“Still, this blood anomaly is very troubling. Although I am not at liberty to say, I have seen it before. In fact, it manifested in the blood supply of one of your family members. It was your niece, Lynette Khoska. If not for your relationship, I would not reveal her name. Under the circumstances, however, I would feel remiss in my duties were I not to inform you. Fortunately, it seems to be in the process of fading from her blood compared to its presence during the first rounds of testing.”

“Lynette,” Agnes said quietly, now overwhelmed with worry. “How is it exactly that this blood enzyme, or whatever it is, come to be discovered?”

“I am afraid I am in the dark as to that,” McCann answered. “Doctor David Chou is the physician in charge of the program, and he is quite mysterious about it. All I know is he seems to have discovered it within the blood supply of one of his patients. After some wrangling, he seems to have won a patent, which he sold while retaining the rights to study the enzyme under the auspices of Johns Hopkins experimental testing facilities.

“In fact, I have spoken to him about your little friend. Naturally, he was curious, but expressed his assurance he knew nothing of her, and was positive it had nothing to do with his program. Still, I find the odds astronomical that she and your niece could have contracted such a rare blood anomaly, even though you claim they never met.”

“This patient,” Agnes asked. ‘Who was he?”

McCann smiled.

“I’m afraid you’ll never get that information out of David Chou,” he promised her. “It doesn’t really matter. According to him, he has been dead for over half a year now. I’m certain he is not the answer. I do need to ask you something, however, that might be unpleasant. This young girl-has she by any chance ever had a drug problem?”

Agnes looked at him in a futile attempt to disguise her anger.

“Of course not,” she said. “I have never had the slightest problem with her. I have known her since she was seven. Her parents abandoned her, and”-

“Please don’t take offence,” McCann pleaded. “I did not really think she was a user, at least there are no signs of such a thing. Still, it would offer a possible explanation in the way of cross-contamination, particularly if she ever used a needle. Still, it would have had to occur years ago. Recent drug use of such a drastic nature would be impossible to hide. I do not know. I am simply at a complete loss. The only advice I can give you is to continue her therapy, and be thankful she seems to be on the road to recovery from whatever it was that afflicted her. As it is, she seems perfectly healthy, at least physically.”

Michael as well was at a loss as to what to do. When he tried to talk to the girl, she did not seem evasive, yet would not or could not elaborate on her feelings or on recent events. Her answers were vague, seemed evasive at times, and even mysterious.

“So, how do you feel, Elena?” Michael asked her.

“I feel comfortably numb,” she replied.

“Comfortably numb?” he asked.

“Yes,” she replied. “I feel very numb, but comfortably so.”

He smiled at her, and for the first time since she came back, she smiled in return, though briefly. Then, she turned grimly serious, and then sad.

“They are all going to die, you know.”

“Who is that, Elena?” he asked.

“Your children, and your grandchildren, of course-did you not know?”

Michael was stunned into complete immobility. With a supreme effort of will, he forced himself to look into her eyes, and saw there a vague light that seemed to trail off into eternity. Her eyes seemed vacant, and yet, aware. He almost collapsed. As he felt himself going limp, he reached toward the banister of the stairs by which he stood, as Agnes, who heard only a part of the exchange from the adjoining room, entered and rushed to his side.

“Michael, you can’t listen to her, she is not well,” she advised him.

Yet, Michael betrayed no emotion at her pronouncement, only a steady sense of calm acceptance.

“I will be all right,” he said. “I really should go now. I need to call my wife.”

After he left, Agnes asked her what she meant saying such a thing, but Elena acted as though she was not aware she had said anything amiss or out of the ordinary. In fact, she acted as though she remembered saying nothing at all.

Aleksandre Khoska soon paid a visit to the house, and the strangest thing of all happened. Elena suddenly seemed her normal self. There seemed nothing strange or dispirited about her in the least. Elena seemed no different from any other young teenage girl. She engaged him in conversation, as though she had known him all her life. She smiled, and even joked that his beard made him seem wise and old for a man with such young twinkling eyes. After about twenty minutes of such banter, she excused herself. She then bounded out of the room calling out for another of the girls to go with her for a walk.

“Well, that was strange,” Agnes said. Khoska’s eyes were far from twinkling. Such a description of him seemed out of place by quite a few years.

“Something is very wrong,” he said. “Your mother Marta used to say that to me when she wanted to put me in my place, as she put it. That was not a casual conversation, Agnes. That was a warning-a deceptively cordial one, but a warning nevertheless.”

Later on, after supper, Khoska prayed and blessed all of the children privately, including Elena, who acted no different in response from any of the other children. Yet, she was different.

“I have never known a child who acted so transparently familiar with me,” he then confided to Agnes. “Most children look at me with a sense of awe, or at least a kind of reserve. Some of them betray some sense of guilt, mostly over some little trivial matter that in most cases seem based mainly on private imaginings. This girl seems to take on the persona of a hostess of some private adult club, or perhaps of some high society debutante ball. It is most extraordinary.”

As he stood at the door preparing to leave, to return to the bedside of his son Phillip, who yet lay comatose in a private hospital, Elena once more presented herself.

“It was so very good to see you, Father Khoska,” she said cheerfully. “I do hope you will come again.”

At that exact instant, the girl went limp and collapsed onto the floor. Khoska rushed to her side, to see her twitching frantically and foaming at the mouth. Her eyes were wide open as she soon began thrashing frantically.

“She seems to be having an epileptic seizure,” he said. He placed his hand under the back of her neck and gently turned her on her side. Agnes rushed to the phone. The line, however, was dead.

“Of all the times for the phone to not work,” she shouted, tempted for once to curse aloud, and barely restraining herself from doing so.

“I’ll get my cell-phone,” she said.

“That won’t be necessary,” Khoska told her. “It is over.”

The girl now was still and unconscious.

“What if it happens again?” she asked.

“I doubt it will,” he said. “She is just as well off here anyway, until you can arrange an appointment. McCann will probably have to make a referral to a specialist to run tests. More than likely, this is not a permanent condition, but a symptom of whatever psychological trauma she has undergone. The best thing for her would be to put her to bed. You will want to cleanse her, of course, as I am certain you will find she has urinated on herself.”

That turned out to be the case, and after Khoska took his leave, Agnes helped the girl bathe, and then saw her to bed. The other children all entered her room to inquire after her, and to wish her good night. She expressed the wish that all of them remain there with her, not merely her roommate Rea. Agnes, however, was adamant that all the children should return to their room and to their beds at the usual time.

She then made her way toward her own bed. She was too distraught to sleep well, provided she slept at all. Yet, she was also exhausted, and had to get some rest, or at least try. As she lay in bed, her head began rumbling, and soon, she could hear voices, unintelligible murmurings, accompanied by a hatefully joyous laughter punctuated by some odious declarative that was equally unfathomable. She soon felt overwhelmed by waves of exhaustion that nearly paralyzed her. She could barely move as she felt her joints and muscles ache and stiffen.

Finally, she heard a fierce and loud pounding at her door. Yet, she had not locked it. She could not make herself speak in so much as a whisper, let alone a shout, and as she felt herself giving in to waves of terror, she began to pray silently. Then she heard the door give way to the sudden force of a booted foot that followed the door as it flung inward.

She could not gasp as the strange young man entered her bedroom. He looked at her and leered, with his green eyes and his dark hair. His naked torso revealed a montage of tattoos, and his made up face betrayed a hideous, demonically warped soul, struggling for expression.

“The girl is mine,” he hissed. “You can not have her.”

She is just a child, she tried to plead, but could not open her mouth. To her horror, he knew her thoughts.

“To me, you are all children,” he said. “Yet, in your arrogance, you have taken everything from me I ever cared for. Do not dare to suppose that I have forgotten, or will forgive. I passed that stage of humanity centuries ago, long before I animated the form you see before you now. I have asserted my will, and my will is now her will. She has returned here for one reason and one reason alone. All of the rest of you must die.”

Marlowe Krovell then turned to leave the bedroom of the terrified Orthodox nun, she who had devoted her life to serving her God and his children, his most precious creations. She had to stop him. She found the strength and the will to pull herself from her bed and made her way down the hall. She heard Justin, the youngest of the boys, cry out in fear. She hurried to his room in a weakened, dizzied state, and opened the door, only to see, to her utter horror, the boy floating above his bed, crying pitifully, as suddenly his back arched. She could hear it snap, as whatever invisible force held the boy aloft now dropped him down onto the floor, flinging him as though to insure he would hit, not the bed, but the hardwood flood, upon which he landed with a bone-crunching thud.

Agnes grasped frantically at the crucifix that yet hung around her neck as she tried to hurry to his side. Before she could reach him, however, she felt a solid force brush past her, knocking her against the dresser of the small room. She saw then the other boys in the room, Augusto and Eitan, who both lay upon the floor, staring out as though they too were as dead as poor little Justin. Then, she heard screams from one of the girls’ rooms next door. She hurried into the room, to see all three girls who shared the room, floating as Justin had in the air, only this time spinning wildly as they screamed in terror. One by one, their backs arched until their spines snapped, and they dropped to the floor.

Overcome by horror, Agnes turned and lowered her head and cried, until she felt a strong, iron grip on her shoulder. She looked into the mirror to see the face of the green eyed, blonde haired man whose face looked hideously mummified, a face of demonic evil that transcended death. She screamed as he laughed and flung her out of the room. She lay upon the floor of the hallway outside as she heard footsteps. She looked around her to see the children.

Justin was there, as well as Eitan and Augusto. All of the girls as well were there, including Elena. Elena smiled at her. There was something very badly wrong. Agnes could not speak. She could not move. She could only lay there and writhe in horror and agony.

The children tried to speak to her, but she could not hear them.

“What is wrong with her?” Augusto asked Ellena.

“I don’t know, but she must be sick,” she replied. “Perhaps we should call a doctor.”

Another of the girls held Sister Agnes as Eitan ran desperately to the phone. They addressed her, and they tried to comfort her, but she seemed not to hear them. She looked at them, and though she tried to turn away from them, she could not do so. All she saw was their hideously grinning faces, their ravenous glaring eyes, and the protruding fangs that seemed to hunger for her as they clutched and grasped her with hatred and malicious glee.