The Devil's Heart

DAWN

There was grudging respect in Jean's eyes as she prodded Jane Ann awake with the toe of her boot. It had suddenly turned cold in Fork County, the temperature dropping into the mid-thirties during the night. Satan had pulled away his presence. Jane Ann lay shivering, naked on the ground. But she had neither complained nor begged.

"You think you've won, don't you?" Jean asked, her lips pulled in a sneer.

"Yes," Jane Ann managed a whisper, pushing the word past swollen lips. "My God always does."

Jean squatted down beside her, the stench of her unwashed body unbearable. She pulled a hunting knife from a sheath. "What I think I'll do, bitch, is cut off your tits and feed them to the Beasts."

Jane Ann said nothing.

"You wouldn't beg even then, would you?"

"No," the suffering, ravaged woman said.

"You know what we're going to do, don't you, cunt?"

"Yes."

Jean stood up, looked at Jane Ann for a moment, then savagely kicked her in the face with a booted foot. "Get the cross," she said to Jake. "And the hammers and spikes. Do it. Now."

* * *

"Is it almost over, Sam?" Miles asked. "Please God, let it be."

"A few more hours."

"Then you'll stop the suffering?"

"It will be stopped."

"I still don't understand why it had to be," Anita said. "Not entirely."

"It will be explained. I promise."

"You left us several times last night," Miles said. "I felt your presence leave."

"I went to the scene of ugliness several times. Once I let the spirit of a child depart her body."

Doris asked, "You could do that for her and not for Jane Ann?"

"Yes."

"There is so much I do not understand."

"It will be explained. Behind the curtain of life and death."

Wade sighed. "I never thought I'd hear myself say this, but I'm ready to go."

"He said it, Sam," Miles pointed to Wade. "Not me."

Soon, the mist that was Balon told them. "Only a few more hours."

"Ohh," Miles moaned.

She had screamed when they drove the spikes into her hands, her feet, her sides, losing consciousness only momentarily. Then, awake, she found the strength to cope. They had jammed a crown of thorns on her head, the blood dripped down her face,.streaking her bruised beauty. She hung naked from her wooden tower.

"Tell me your God is shit!" Tony yelled up to her.

Her eyes found him. "My God is love," Jane Ann whispered.

"Say it," a man urged. "Tell us you renounce your faith in your stupid God and we'll get you down, tend to your wounds."

But Jane Ann managed a smile, shaking her head no.

Some in the crowd, a few, grew restless, worried, for this was not going as planned. They had beaten and raped and tortured this woman nailed to a cross and still she could smile and keep her faith. Some began to openly question what they had done. Others began questioning their minds: could they, under the same circumstances, retain their faith for the Hooved One? Many doubted it.

"I want out," a woman sobbed. "Oh, God—help me get away from here."

A few others joined her. "Take Janey down!" a man called out. "She's suffered enough. Set her free and tend to her wounds."

Those few were seized and killed. One was spread-eagled on the ground, a stake driven through his stomach. He lay screaming for hours. Another man was given to the Beasts; they ate him alive. Two of the women were raped, then given to the Beasts for breeding purposes. The woman who first cried out to leave was given to Jake. She screamed out her humiliation as he took her in various ways. Then she was stoned to death.

"Anyone else want out?" Jean demanded, shouting at the huge crowd. "If so, just step forward."

No one did, but the thoughts of some were confused and troubled.

Jane Ann watched them, sensing the mood of many shifting. She wanted to tell them that if they confessed their sins and accepted God as the only True God, they could be saved. But the words would not form on her tongue. And she wondered why?

"Don't concern yourself with them!" Balon's words cut through the horrible pain in her body. "They are filth—rabble, body and soul belonging to the Dark One."

"You are a warrior, Sam Balon," she whispered, her voice not carrying three feet from her lonely tower. "And you will always be so." The crowd gathered ten feet below saw her lips move, but could not hear her words. They assumed she was praying. "Those are human beings," Jane Ann told the invisible spirit of Balon. "Some of hem used to be my friends. And obviously, some of them still have good in their hearts. They were tempted, Sam, and you know how delicious Satan can make sin."

Balon was firm. He projected: "They are sinners of the most evil sort. Knowingly, willingly, lovingly violating all of God's Commandments."

"I want to help them if I can." Jane Ann was just as stubborn as Sam Balon.

And the mist that was Balon, invisible as it circled around the scene of pain and degradation, projected: "You are certain? Even after all they have done to you? All the pain, the humiliation—you wish to help them?"

"Yes."

And in the firmament, the Total Being knew He had been right, choosing well.

Balon said: "Very well. That choice is entirely up to you."

Jane Ann felt Balon's presence fade. Once more, she was alone, looking down at her tormentors from her nailed position of pain and faith. She gazed at the assembled throng of Satanists, and many looked back at her, most with open hatred and defiance, but a few with concern and pity. Her eyes touched those, holding for a few seconds. When Jane Ann had their attention firm, she said, "I can promise you nothing except what help I might be able to give … offering my prayers for you. The rest is up to you."

"What the fuck are you mouthing about now, bitch?" Jake yelled up at her. He laughed hoarsely. "The silly cunt is losing her mind."

But a few among the many knew better. About thirty moved to the base of the pain-wracked tower. The numbers equally divided between men and women. They stood defiantly before the crowd, many of whom were old friends and lifelong acquaintances. The few looked at one another, then began to sing, softly at first, then with gathering power as the faith they had lost once more filled them with the strength they knew they would soon need. Many openly wept as their love of God returned to them, overwhelming them with the feeling that at last, at long last, they were doing something worthy with their lives.

No one among the large crowd watching them attempted to interfere, for those gathered under the bloody, starkly vivid cross were all armed.

"Throw down your guns," Jane Ann told them.

All but one did. He walked back into the crowd that encircled the Cross of Faith and the few who, at the last, had seen the True Way.

The powerful strains of "Faith Of Our Fathers" rang over the site of rape and defilement and slow, agonizing death.

Shouting profanities, the Coven members surged forward, with Jean shouting orders to build more crosses, and do it quickly.