The Diabolical Conspiracy (15 page)

The man pushing her into the garage steered her toward Mike and made her stand in front of him. In the man’s hand was a big knife, the kind used for gutting animal carcasses in the wild. After making the woman stand still, he slipped the blade inside the band of the woman’s panties and cut the flimsy scrap of fabric loose with a single flick of his wrist. The trembling woman whimpered at this, but she made no attempt to rebel against what was happening to her. The dark bruises on her face were stark evidence as to why. She had already learned the folly of fighting back against these people.

Next the man used the big knife on Mike, quickly freeing him from the lengths of rope binding him to the chair. He then pressed the hunting knife into Mike’s hand and moved away from him.

“
Stand up, Mike.”

Nadia, in that stentorian, commanding tone again.

Mike stood up.

Nadia smiled. “You have to prove yourself all over again, Mike. Except now you’ll have to go farther than ever to demonstrate the depth of your allegiance. This is phase one of your redemption. Kill this bitch. Do not hesitate.”

Mike stepped forward and rammed the blade deep into the woman’s abdomen, then quickly yanked it out and plunged it in again. She dropped to the floor as he stood gasping over her with the bloody blade. She was still clinging to life, with her cheeks puffing behind the gag in her mouth. Mike felt something painful wrench inside him as he stared at her pitifully pleading eyes.

It felt like his soul tearing loose.

Nadia clapped her hands slowly together twice. It was what his father had called a “golf clap.” She was still mocking him. “Bravo. Nice job. But you’re still not done with phase one. Quickly, before she dies, defile her. Again I’d advise against hesitation.”

He did not hesitate this time either. And he did as instructed. It was so much easier now, without a soul. By the time he was done, the woman was dead. He climbed off of her and examined the faces arrayed behind Marnie and Nadia. “There. Is that sick enough for you? Am I evil enough yet?”

Nadia smiled. “Almost. By the way, Mike, have I ever mentioned that Carolyn lives next door to me?”

Mike’s grip on the hunting knife’s handle tightened.

No. No. She isn’t saying what I think she’s saying. No way…

Nadia was still smiling as she raised her voice. “Carolyn, you can come in now.”

Mike’s heart was pounding again as he stared at the door to the house, a desperate part of him pleading not to see what he dreaded seeing most.

But, as was so often the case, his prayers went unanswered.

Carolyn came into the garage.

She wasn’t alone.

Mike screamed and dropped to his knees.

Brittany looked dazed as she stumbled hesitatingly across the cement floor. They had drugged her again, which was a small mercy at least. It wasn’t much, but at least it was something. At least she wouldn’t know to be scared again until it was too late.

Probably.

He looked at Marnie.

And he looked at Nadia.

They had been right, after all. The devil was among them tonight. Multiple devils, actually, all wearing human masks.

Nadia leered at him. “Are you ready for the final phase, Mike? Can you do what needs to be done?”

He could.

And he did.

He couldn’t rescue this child. The pragmatist within him recognized the impossibility of that. But perhaps he had been premature about pronouncing his soul dead. Because this was one defilement that was happening without him. He acted quickly, before anyone could move to stop him, by placing the sharp edge of the hunting knife against his throat and ripping open his jugular vein. He had a final few moments of consciousness as he watched his blood arc across the garage and spatter across Brittany’s smudged face.

The other conspiracy members were applauding.

And cheering

Mike’s eyes rolled back in his head as he toppled over and stared up at the ceiling. The rest of them moved into view, huddling over him as his vision faded. He heard them talking about him as the world dimmed.

“
I didn’t think he had it in him.”

“
Hell, I knew he’d do it.”

“
I’m proud of him.”

“
Good riddance.”

“
I think I really loved you, Mike. Goodbye.”

Mike’s eyes fluttered as his last thoughts sputtered across his fading consciousness--
Something’s wrong. What’s happening? Why--

Eight years later…

Marnie was exhausted as she pulled into the driveway outside Nadia’s house. Her house too now, actually, had been for a long while, but she still always thought of it as belonging to Nadia. Deeply ingrained mental habit. Another long day at the General Assembly had at last drawn to a close not a half hour earlier. Fourteen endless hours had elapsed since she had left home this morning and she counted herself lucky to be back this soon. There were many days when she regretted her decision to get into politics. She was always so damn tired. In the end, though, she knew it was worth it for all she was accomplishing on Satan’s behalf. There were so many subtle ways you could hurt people when you had the ability to shape policy. She was making a real difference in advancing the cause of evil on a daily basis. It was something to be proud of, as Nadia liked to remind her at the end of especially trying days like this one.

The TV was blaring as she entered the house through the front door. Brittany and Jason were on the couch facing the TV, but they weren’t actually watching it. Jason was playing with his iPad and Brittany was texting away at somebody on her smart phone. Probably her little boyfriend, Alex.

“
Hey, kids.”

“
Hi, Marnie,” was Brittany’s reply.

Jason said, “Hi, mom.”

Neither of them looked up from their gadgets.

Typical.

Marnie rolled her eyes and continued on into the kitchen, where she slung her purse off her shoulder and dropped it on the dining table. Nadia, wearing an apron, was at the counter, busily working at something in a mixing bowl.

She smiled warmly. “Hey, honey.”

Marnie walked up behind her and slipped her arms around her waist. “What are you making?”

“
Something special.”

Marnie kissed the side of her neck.

“
Ohh…that feels nice.”

Marnie did it again, eliciting a giggle.

“
Come on, tell me what it is.”

Nadia gave a resolute shake of her head. “Sorry, it’s a surprise for later. But I’ll give you a hint. Blood of an innocent is a key ingredient.”

Marnie made a sound of approval. “Sounds promising.”

She kissed Nadia again and slid a hand inside her apron. Nadia turned away from the mixing bowl and allowed Marnie to kiss her on the mouth. Then she pressed back against the counter and smiled. “Feeling frisky today, are we?”

“
What can I say? Treading on the rights of the little guy makes me horny.”

Marnie felt a tug at her arm and turned around to see the round face of her son peering up at her. She smiled and ruffled his hair. “Hey, Jase. What’s up?”

“
Want a piece of pie.”

She figured he was referring to the leftover lemon icebox pie Nadia had made for dessert the day before. She couldn’t blame him. It was very yummy indeed. “Maybe after dinner.”

He protested at this, but she sent him back to the living room with another admonition to wait until after dinner for his dessert. Marnie sighed and watched him go, feeling the usual aching tug at her heart. “He reminds me so much of his father sometimes.”

Nadia snorted. “Let’s hope he turns out better than that.”

Marnie’s expression turned thoughtful. “He will. We’re raising him in the faith, after all. He’ll never know another way.”

As if on cue, Brittany came into the kitchen next, climbing onto a stool on the other side of the counter. “So when are you guys having another orgy?”

Marnie and Nadia exchanged wary glances.

Marnie said, “We’re having another
meeting
next week.”

Brittany pouted. “Like I don’t know what’s really going on when you send us over to Aunt Carolyn’s for the night. I’ve sneaked in and spied on you guys a few times, you know.”

Nadia shot her a sharp, disapproving look. “Brittany!”

Brittany smirked. “Whatever, mom. You can’t shield me from grownup stuff forever. I’m not a fucking kid anymore. When do I get to join in? I wanna get freaky for Satan, too.”

The adult women exchanged glances again and this time those looks were tinged with resignation and weariness. Nadia reached over the counter and touched her adopted daughter’s hand. “Your time is coming, sweetie. I promise.”

Brittany slid off the stool and started slouching back in the direction of the living room. She was already texting again as she got off her parting shot: “Fucking
better
.”

Nadia shook her head. “They grow up so fast.” A dark look briefly crossed her features and she lowered her voice as she said, “I love her so much. When I think of how close we came to--”

“
But we didn’t. Things worked out the way they were meant to. The way Satan really wanted.” Marnie opened a cabinet above the counter. “I need a drink. Want one?”

“
Fuck yes. Make it a double.”

Marnie poured the drinks and they toasted each other.

“
To us.”

They clinked glasses.

“
To us.”

Marnie poured out more liquor and lifted her glass again. “To evil.”

Another clink of glasses.

“
To evil.”

After a few more toasts, Marnie let Nadia go back to her cooking and carried the bottle of whiskey outside. She sat on the ground above where Mike Bradley lay buried in his unmarked grave and had a few more quiet, thoughtful drinks. Before going back inside, she tipped out a tiny dollop of whiskey and watched it seep into the dry ground.

And she thought the same thing she always thought in moments like this--
We could have had something special, you asshole.

If only he had been a true believer.

Like his son.

Marnie screwed the cap on the bottle and went back inside.

THE END

ABOUT THE AUTHOR: Bryan Smith is the author of numerous previous novels and novellas, including House of Blood, The Killing Kind, Depraved, The Dark Ones, and Rock And Roll Reform School Zombies. Most of these were first available via mass market paperback from Dorchester Publishing. Some have since been reprinted by Deadite Press. A new novel, The Late Night Horror Show, is scheduled for release from Samhain Publishing in March of 2013. A second novel for Samhain Publishing, entitled Go Kill Crazy!, is also in the works. Bryan lives in Tennessee with a wide array of pets. Visit his home on the web at
www.bryansmith.info

NOTES FROM A DIABOLICAL CONSPIRACY

Okay, so what I’m going to do here is provide a bit of commentary on things in this story. Fair warning, this will be kind of random and rambling. I should probably drink a six-pack of beer as I write it just to spice things up even more. Hmm. Nah. It’s not beer-thirty yet, so I’ll make do with this Dr. Pepper. Don’t like Dr. Pepper? Well, clearly you are aligned with the forces of darkness, just as the characters in this novella.

Anyway, let’s talk about the title first. This novella is just one of a couple of recent cases of an actual story arising from oddball catchphrases I riff on sometimes on my private Facebook page. At one point earlier this year for reasons unknown (either I was drunk or bored…or both) I posted a status update about wanting to start a diabolical conspiracy of some sort. Several people responded saying they wanted to join the conspiracy with me. That might have been the end of it, except that it continued as a running joke between myself and one other person. I wrote a couple of brief comedy bits that could be described as flash fiction, and I only shared them with this same person. The joke became so developed that we occasionally talked about having a real Diabolical Conspiracy gathering, which basically would just be an excuse to party like jungle animals (Joe Bob Briggs reference alert). I purchased red light bulbs for the event and put together an appropriate play list. But time went by and the idea sort of fizzled. I didn’t think about it again until recently, when I was trying to think of ideas for a new story, one I’d put out as an original digital publication to tide readers over until my first novel with Samhain Publishing comes out in March of 2013. I wasn’t feeling very fired up by any of the ideas I was considering until the Diabolical Conspiracy joke flitted through my mind again. At which point I thought, ‘Hmm, how about a story about a real diabolical conspiracy, only make it actually evil rather than a joke?’ So I started it and the whole thing came out fast. It felt very natural and definitely like an idea whose time had come.