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Damned for Eternity Page 4
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Nevertheless, stepping inside as the putrid odor filled his nostrils, he was nauseated by its stench and wasn’t so sure he could handle it for long.
He was able to decipher during the call that Phil had stayed at Kate’s apartment and something had gone terribly wrong, bad enough to wake up his men.
A terrified Phil didn’t say much more, just asked him to get over there.
Phil was found lying in the hall, crawled up in a fetal position.
“Phillip?” Mr. White cried, rushing to him. His instincts were to protect his son.
He crouched down and cradled him.
“Son, tell me, what’s going on?”
He pointed a shaky hand to the door of the bathroom which still remained slightly ajar.
Hunt and Caruso drew their guns and cautiously stepped toward the entrance. Hunt nodded his head at Caruso and on a silent count of three, they kicked in the door.
They discovered Kate, lying in the tub, smoke still venting from parts of her body.
“Dear God!” Hunt said to Caruso.
They ran back out.
“Kid what happened?” Hunt asked.
“I don’t know,” Phillip cried, shaking his head, tears of fear streaking his face.
“Did you do it?” Caruso asked.
“No,” Phillip managed, strong and bold.
“Well, how in the hell…..it was just you two?”
“I think but something had shut the door.”
“You mean someone?” Caruso corrected.
“More like something.” Phillip said.
“I don’t follow what you’re saying,” Caruso replied.
“Look,” Hunt then pointed out. “The bathroom window’s raised up too.”
Caruso studied it. It was only cracked, yet large enough for someone to get in, and the apartment was on the first floor, more reason to believe they could’ve broke in.
“Alright,” sighed Hunt. “This is what we do. I need to take him into custody. Caruso here is gonna call it in. I’ll gather the evidence to keep him freed.”
“Custody?” the governor said.
“Yeah, to run prints and a polygraph test. We can also detain him till morning time.”
“Hell no!” he cried, perturbed.
“Listen,” Hunt said to him. “This is what you need to understand. In less than an hour, this shit hits fan. The media eats up stuff like this. If we don’t gather evidence quick, whether he was here or not, they can pin it on him.”
“I wanna go dad,” Phillip said.
“Alright,” he sighed. “But he’s not staying.”
“Actually, Dad. I wanna stay there. I don’t feel safe on the streets right now.”
He looked at Phillip like he was crazy, then tried to understand what his son was saying.
“You might be right. If a killer’s out there, he knows that you’re a witness to his crime. I guess it’d be hard to break into jail.”
He gave Hunt a serious stare.
“Take care of my boy.”
“I promise I will.”
Hunt helped Phil up to his feet and guided him towards his unmarked car.
Caruso looked at the crime scene shaking his head.
“What?” asked the governor.
“Just seems ironic. Two electrocutions in one week?”
“Two?”
“That’s right. The guy on death row?”
As the governor thought back, a wave came over him. He grew dizzy for a moment, but Caruso caught him.
“Hey!” he called. “You alright there, governor?”
He nodded. “The smell is probably getting to me.”
“Well go on ahead and vacate the premises. I’m about to make a call to bring in folks.”
“Don’t worry,” Hunt said as he dipped Phillip’s fingers into the ink to fingerprint him. “You’re not being booked, we just need your prints.”
Phillip glanced at him curiously. “But the radio was thrown in some water right?”
Hunt nodded.
“Well won’t that wash off the prints?”
“Not if we use the laser scan.”
As he stamped each finger, he continued to talk.
“So this girl you were with, did you love her at all?”
Phillip got misty eyed again.
“I did, but I was cheating on her.”
Hunt stopped and stared.
“She found out about it?”
“Yeah,” he nodded.
“And you were staying at her place?”
He nodded again.
“Is it possible then she was messing around too and was offed by her lover? A crime of passion’s not hard to believe. Neither is the fact that she killed herself.”
“I don’t know,” said Phil.
“Just think about it. Also think of who else could've done it.”
“If I had an idea,” Phil almost whispered. “You just might think I was crazy to say.”
He stopped again. “Kid in my business, I’ve heard more crazy stories than most.”
“Well….” he began.
“Hold that thought!” He held up his hand. “When we finish here, polygraph time.”
Twenty minutes later, various pads to measure his pressure were strapped around Phil.
“Relax,” said Hunt. “We start off easy. If there’s any spike we can tell that you’re lying.”
He looked at Phil.
“You ready, my friend.”
Phillip nodded. “Yeah, let’s do this.”
“Okay,” he said. “State your name.”
He took a deep breath. “Phillip White.”
“Phillip, are you the governor’s son?”
“Yes.”
“Okay great. And how old are you?”
“I’m twenty two.”
“Alright, good deal. Don’t get emotional or it’s gonna spike. Now did you kill your girlfriend Kate?”
Phillip exhaled. “No, I didn’t.”
“Do you have an idea of who may have?”
“Yes.”
“Who did it?”
“It was a demon.”
Hunt then cut off the machine.
“Demon?” he asked.
Phil nodded again.
He read the results.
“They’re all steady. Phillip it says you’re not lying at all. However, I don’t know if it proves anything.”
“What?”
“Think about your last answer. Church and state are two different things. Nobody will believe a demon killed Kate. When you make certain statements like that, it just makes you look like a calm liar.”
Before Phillip could speak again, the machine came on all by itself.
“What the hell?!” Hunt yelled, pressing the off button repeatedly.
When that didn’t work, he went straight for the cord. He unplugged it from the socket, but it continued to run. He stared amazed at the glowing screen.
The lines began to form the shape of an ugly demon with two spiked horns atop its head.
After that, the equipment sparked. He pulled Phillip to the floor and covered him.
A brief explosion then occurred with the monitor completely shattering.
The needle that wrote spun off the machine and barely grazed past Hunt’s left ear.
“Shit,” he said, when it was over. “I don’t really know what happened there. But they’re gonna have to fix this thing.”
He slowly reverted to logical thinking.
Phillip lie there, still on floor, shaking his head at Officer Hunt. He knew no one would believe a word he said. It was better to not even tell the truth.
Officer Hunt led him past several holding cells.
“There are no singles,” he said. “But, I’m going to put you in here.”
They stopped in front of a cell where three old men lay passed out drunk.
“It’s what we call our detox cell. It’s the safest place for you right now.”
He pointed to the guys.
“I don’t think you’ll be bothered.”
He opened it up, and Phillip tip toed in careful not to disturb the snoring men.
He eased his body down on a cot and gently closed his sleepy eyes.
About an hour later, the drunks awoke one by one. However, the whites and pupils of their eyes were shaded a dark black.
Likewise, all of their teeth and nails had immensely grown with jagged edges.
They rose off their mattress one at a time and snaked their way over to Phil.
Phil had just started to relax and felt a scratch against his leg.
His lids flew open and he looked down, viewing one of the grinning drunks. The drowsiness went away.
“Help!” he screamed. “Somebody help me!”
He tried to jump off the bed, but one of them caught him by the heel.
Nonetheless, he crawled towards the bars as the other two rapidly approached.
He reached for the cell bars, and held on tight, as the drunks scraped and nibbled at him.
“What the hell!” cried a guard who’d finally made it. “Hey! We need some help back here.”
Two of the others flew in to assist. They hurriedly keyed their way inside.
With their batons, they beat off the imps. The greedy men then turned on them.
“I’m warning you,” the first guard said, pulling his gun out of its holster.
The drunks did nothing but laugh at them. They continued to mock and stalk their prey.
Seconds later, the room lit up and heavy gun smoke dissipated through. Three black spirits escaped through bars, laughing sinister all of the way.
“You alright?” the guards asked Phillip, who suffered from several lacerations and bites.
He nodded his head, eyes full of tears.
“Come on, you need emergency treatment.”
“I told you!” the governor blamed Officer Hunt. “I said that it was a bad idea. You put him in a cell with criminals and you don’t expect these guys to attack?”
“Governor these were stone hard drunks,” said Hunt.
“Not drunk enough to attack my son.”
“Listen, he’s doing okay, no injuries that a man can’t take. Now I really need to speak with you, but not in a hospital waiting room.”
The governor gave him a look of disgust but reluctantly, he followed him off.
“We just got back the fingerprints.”
“So you know he didn’t do it.”
“Yes, we can say that for sure.”
“Good, so much for the media.”
“Hear me out. It’s something strange ‘cause the prints don’t even appear to be human.”
“Well you said yourself something opened the bathroom window. A raccoon or a squirrel could have knocked it in.”
“I don’t think…..”
“I don’t care what you think. My son told the truth that’s all that matters. Trust me, it was probably a coon, and when you find him, shoot his ass!”
Phillip lay in the hospital bed heavily bandaged. Earlier, he kept telling the Doctor about hooded men chasing him. As a courtesy to the Governor, the Doctor decided not to commit Phillip to an Asylum. He figured the trauma from witnessing his girlfriend die must've severely stressed him. He prescribed him medication to help him sleep, but even under heavy sedation, Phillip’s nightmares haunted him. Phil kept seeing images of Kate's and Zedbediah's dead bodies in his dream. He heard their voices.
"Phillip, Phillip, Phillip...I helped you Philip. My son helped you," a combination of both Kate and Zedbediah voices said.
"Leave me alone," Phillip said groggily in his sleep.
The images of Kate and Zedbediah’s bodies kept morphing into each other. The images finally settled on Kate.
"Why didn't you help me Phillip? I loved you!"
"I loved you too."
"Why did you have to cheat on me? Was I not good enough?"
"It wasn't you, it was me," he cried.
"Why didn't you help me? Where were you when I needed you most?"
Kate's body rose in his dream and caressed his face. She sat on his lap and hugged him around his neck.
"I tried. I tried to break the door down, but they wouldn't let me!"
"You let me down Phillip. You weren't there when I needed you most...I'm dead now, and you're going to die soon too!"
Kate's image changed into Zedbediah's, and the ghost started strangling him.
"Let me go...I'm sorry. Please... I had nothing to do with your death!"
"You need to die. You need to suffer. You need to...Join us!!!!"
Mr. White shook Phillip hard.
"Son, wake up. It's just a dream!"
Phillip cried in his father's arms. Mr. White looked at his son. His eyes were swollen from a combination of crying and a lack of sleep. He had bags under them, and his heart was beating out of his chest. Mr. White never believed in supernatural things but with everything that had been happening, it was starting to eat at him and mess with his sub conscience.
"Tell me what happened, son."
He explained about seeing the ghosts of Kate and Zedbediah, and how they said he needed to die and suffer.
"I promise you, I will protect you. Do you hear me Phillip? Nothing is going to harm you. These weirdoes are not going to intimidate me. I'm the fucking Governor. I've dealt with bigger shady characters than these assholes. Don't let them get in your head.”
Then, on cue, as if he needed back up, Pastor Judd entered the hospital room.
He’d spoken with Kate’s loved ones and decided to drop by and check on Phil. He’d overhead part of Phillip’ story and the part about demons got to him.
“Governor,” Pastor Judd said to him. “If it’s okay I’d like to pray with you.”
Mr. White looked to Phil who nodded okay. They bowed their heads and he delivered his words.
“Thank you Pastor,” he said as he finished.
He smiled at him, “no problem at all.”
As Pastor Judd left the hospital, he once again tried to reassure Phil, that what happened to Kate wasn’t his fault, and she was in a better place.
He felt that Phil was in deep shock about what’d happened to her therefore his mind had fabricated all of these different apparitions.
When Pastor Judd entered his house very late, everything was perfectly still.
He noticed a plate was left on the stove. Bless his wife for thinking of him!
He eagerly unwrapped his food—a baked potato and broccoli, accompanied by a hearty steak. He sliced it and examined it.
“Good,” he whispered. “Medium rare. I’m sure glad she remembered this time.”
He fixed a drink but didn't notice the small tapeworm that peered out.
He cut his dinner to smaller pieces, avoiding the piece with the tapeworm in it.
Finally though, it reached his mouth. The worm slid out as he started to chew.
It arrived at the base of his throat. From there, the worm started to grow. It fattened until it filled it up, almost like a small tube.
The pastor tried to gasp out as he began to lose his oxygen.
The worm had seriously restricted air flow from every direction which he could breathe. It swelled and touched the roof of his mouth, growing so heavy it depressed his tongue.
The tail wiggled between his lips.
He slumped face first into the plate which broke.
As he lay in the midst of jagged porcelain, the worm started to slowly shrink.
However, it was too late by now. He had stopped responding at all.
Sam paced in front of the bed. “Phillip, you gotta come outta that funk.”