The red wooden panel of the medieval church illuminated in the Volvos headlights – its sloped roof, covered in greying slate. I sat in the back, with Peter in the passenger seat, and behind the wheel sat Steve. The fog that had accompanied us during our 30 minute-long drive had at this point finally started to dissipate. With that said we couldn’t really see much, apart from the church and the stonewall that encircled it. But according to Steve, there was a lake close by and beyond that, deep dark pine woods. I glanced out the window on my side of the car; nothing but impenetrable darkness and faint shrouds of milky-white mist. We had been friends since elementary school. I believe we were in third or fourth grade when we first tried out things such as the ouija board, Bloody Mary and similar ”paranormal games.” Me and Peter never really took it all that seriously, it was just something to do while hanging out. Steve on the other hand; was hooked. At the time when this took place we were 18 and about to graduate from highschool. You might think that at that age your interests would have changed somewhat. That was not the case with Steve. Earlier that evening we were relaxing at my place when he all of a sudden said that he knew of a place that we ”just had to check out.” I had my suspicions regarding what he had in mind, that being that he wanted us to explore some supposedly ”haunted place”, but Steve asserted that this time, it would be different.
”Different? How?” I asked while sipping on my energy drink.
”Oh, you’ll see..” he replied with a mysterious smile.
Both me and Peter looked at each other, and then back at Steve. Peter sighed. ”Ok… but this better be good..”
”Awesome! You won’t regret it!” Steve replied excitedly.
How I wish we never went.
As soon as Steve pulled out the keys from the ignition, the church was swallowed by the night. Before we exited the vehicle, we armed ourselves with flashlights – one each. In the cones of artificial light we could see the ancient stonewall along with it’s black iron gate as we approached our destination. According to Steve, the church was set to be destroyed back in the 16th century for some unknown reason. Apart from his voice, the only sounds present were our footsteps on the overgrown gravel path. When we reached the gate, we paused for a brief moment. On the other side of the wall we could make out tombstones in various states of decrepitude. Some had fallen over while others were desperately clinging on their pedestals. Several were covered in algae and moss. It was close to impossible to decipher any of the names, dates of birth or death. It was evident that no one cared about maintaining the old cemetary. The place was, for lack of a better word, ”dead”.
”Well? Should we enter?” Even if it was Steve’s idea he still sounded nervous.
Peter looked over at him. ”I guess so? Otherwise, what was even the point in driving here? Unless… unless you’ve changed your mind?” He then placed the flashlight under his chin, which cast a spooky reflection across his face.
I chuckled, somewhat flustered. I don’t care who you are; anyone would’ve felt chills if they were in the same scenario. Just think; an old mysterious wooden church, abandoned for reasons unknown, located at the end of a lonesome gravel road. Dense and dark pine woods. Fog. Gloom. Everything veiled in suffocating silence.
”Uhm.. no. Of course not. L-let’s do this!” Steve grabbed the gate and with a firm hand he opened it.
The metallic squealing was loud enough to wake the dead. The hairs on my neck stood on edge. Before we ventured on, I threw a quick glance over my shoulder, just to make sure that we were still alone. As soon as I had assured myself that everything was clear, I tagged along with the others. As soon as I entered, I took note of a belfry, also painted red, its case painted grey. The column shape was octagonal and the base was made of natural stone. I peeked into the belfry. The bell was still there, but the rope had rotten away. Encircling the church building was a not so well-mainted gravel footpath. With our flashlights, we tried to see what lurked beyond the grimy windows, but could only make out the vague outlines of pews. The entrance to the porch was located to the west, not far from the belfry. Not too surprisingly, the door was locked. We carried on until we reached yet another gate, this one smaller than the first one. Steve said that it probably would lead us down to the nearby lake. The mist was incredibly thick in that direction, but regardless, we had no intentions to venture beyond the church and its walls.
Instead, we started backtracking up to the church, with Steve taking the lead. At this point, the faint light of the moon had started to illuminate the misty landscape around us. Steve stopped dead in his tracks and lifted his gaze towards the night sky. The moon was full and pale as bone. A smile spread across his face.
”Perfect…”
I glanced at Peter, who was confused as I was. The moment our attention returned to Steve, he produced what appeared to be the ripped out page of a book.
”What is that?” asked Peter and pointed at the item with his flashlight.
”Our father who-”
It didn’t take long for me catch on.
”As in the prayer?” I interrupted.
Steve nodded. Peter looked annoyed. ”Ok, but why would you rip a page out of the Bible?”
Steve smirked. ”Oh, is that so, Peter? I didn’t know you were religious.”
”I’m not. Just asking. Stop being sucha dick..”
I felt that I had to defuse the situation. ”Just cut the crap and tell us why we’re here.”
Steve sighed, but proceeded: ”Ok, but you have to listen real close to what I’m about to tell you.” He tried to put on a serious face, but it came across as forced more than anything else. Either way. This is what he told us. Compared to the Ouija Board, Bloody Mary or any of the other ways we’ve tried to contact the other side, the ”game” he wanted to try out tonight was not nearly as well-known. Roughly a week ago, he had stumbled across a thread at some online forum where people discussed magic, primarily different kinds of rituals. It was in this very forum that he came across the term ”midnight walk”. As the name indicated, in order for the ritual to work, it had to be carried out at midnight. ”Because midnight, you see.” He paused, dramatically, before he carried on: ”is when magic is the most potent.” It took him a while to find the perfect place and this, apparently, was it. I wasn’t really sure what to believe, but kept listening. Another vital element in the world of magic, was that spellcasting, incantations etc. was to be performed backwards. The so-called ”midnight walk” went something like this:
We were to walk 13 laps, backwards, around the church and while doing so we had to recite the Lords prayer in the same fashion. On the 13th lap, we stop in front of the church door and knock. I can’t speak for Peter, but up to this point, I had been struggling to keep a straight face. That all changed, however, when Steve mentioned a detail that he had neglected:
”Oh, I almost forgot. We.. we have to be naked during the ritual.. but.. I think it’s fine if we wear our underwear…”
I stared at him. Was this a joke?
Peter crossed his arms in protest. ”Screw you, man! You can’t be serious! Also, it’s October! We would freeze our balls off!”
I remained silent. Steve immediately got defensive and explained that ”in the world of magic”, it was also important to not wear any clothing while performing ”the arcane arts”. We, of course, called bullshit. Steve threw up his hands and yelled:
”But you promised! Please! Come on guys!”
I was about to say something before Peter pulled me aside. He told me that he needed to talk to me and with that I followed him until we stood behind the old belfry. Peter told me he felt uncomfortable and that he wanted to leave. We spent a few minutes, discussing back and forth, but eventually Peter sighed in resignation and said:
”I don’t know.. maybe we should just get it over with…”
”What? Why?”
”Because he is the only of us that has a drivers license AND car keys. Also, it’s his car. Sure, I’m taking driving lessons, but that doesn’t really help us. Unless… unless we steal the keys?” I wasn’t sure whether or not he was joking. As much as I hated the idea of strolling along in my boxers, in the middle of the night, in a creepy cemetery, we really didn’t really have a choice unless we wanted to ruin our friendship with Steve.
”Might as well just do it. It’s not like it’s going to get any easier the more we stall things. Yeah.. wanna head back?”
Peter cringed, but nodded in response. As soon as the church came into view, we saw Steve. He was pacing back and forth, impatiently, until he caught sight of us. There was something with his eyes that made me uneasy. There was a wildness to them like that of an animal, but it faded almost the second that I noticed it. His grip on the crumbled Bible page made his knuckles white. Steve pointed at us and hissed:
”It’s almost midnight! We gotta hurry up! Quick! Start undressing!”
Then, without hesitation, Steve started to undress until he wore nothing but his boxers (thankfully he seemed to have SOME sense). Shortly after, Peter followed suit. I hated every second of the situation I found myself in. To combat the awkwardness, I tried to focus my attention elsewhere, away from the others. It was at that very moment that I noticed two things that seemed out of place.
The steeple of the church missed its cross. I pondered; maybe it had fallen off after years of neglect or perhaps due to lightning having struck it one time too many? The peculiar wind vane was the second thing that stood out. Due to the lack of light, I couldn’t fully make it out. But it was unlike anything I had ever seen before. It reminded me of a lanky, almost skeletal figure that held something aloft, maybe some sort of implement? The more I looked at it, the more a sense of dread came over me. I can’t explain why, but the feeling had an effect on my bladder. I really, REALLY, needed to pee. I pulled up my pants and started walking fast towards the smaller of the gates. It didn’t take long before Steve noticed what I was doing.
”Hey! Where are you going? The ritual is about to start any minute!”
Without turning around, I yelled that I needed to take a piss, but that they could start without me.
Still to this day I’m not sure if it was Steve or Peter that yelled in response or even what it was that they said. My mind was focused on one thing and one thing only. I vaulted over the gate and as soon as my feet hit ground I started making my way along the mist veiled path. I was as good as blind, fumbling through the haze until I at last found the perfect spot. Relieved, I closed my eyes while taking care of business. That was close. A little TOO close. Apart from the sound I was producing, it was eerily quiet. I must’ve ventured further than expected, because I couldn’t hear my friends anymore, I thought while finishing up and getting ready to head back. What happened next is one of many things that happened that night, that I can’t quite explain. At first I wasn’t quite sure what it was, but it had without a doubt sounded like some sort of chime, but not just any chime. Maybe the fog somehow distorted what I heard, but it couldn’t be anything other than a church bell.
The belfry…
But that was impossible. I had seen it with my own two eyes; the rope was missing. Was it the wind? No. The wind was silent and calm. The only logical explanation I could come up with was that Steve and Peter had to have something to do with it. Maybe they..maybe they threw rocks at the bell in the belfry? I kept listening while walking. After 10 or so deep tolls, the last chime rung out ominiously. The sound made me sick, almost nauseous. Something about the way it sounded felt.. wrong. Out of this world. I had to pause briefly, just to regain my composure, before continuing.
After what felt like an eternity, I could make out the wall and the small gate. Thinking back, I recall how it made me feel at ease, but that feeling soon dwindled the moment I started making my way back to the cemetery. The old church towered menacingly in front of me, like a black spire reaching towards the dark clouds above. The moon had gone into hiding, but in the light of my flashlight I could see that the church door stood wide open. I saw no sign of Steve and Peter. I started walking closer while throwing a quick glance at the belfry. It wasn’t my imgination. The rope was missing. In other words; they had to have thrown something at the bell in order for it to produce the sounds I had heard earlier. They probably thought I was taking too long and that was their way of signaling for me to return. I turned my attention back to the building and that’s when I saw it: a set of clothes. I recognized them as Steve’s. I looked around, expecting to see clothing belonging to Peter, but saw nothing. Where the hell were they? A thought crossed my mind; ”had they abandoned me?” I was about to go check on the car, when I started hearing noises eminating from within the church itself. I stopped and turned around.
”Peter? Steve?”
It sounded as if someone was scuffling around in there, but I couldn’t be sure. My hand trembled as I shone my flashlight at the entrance. Nothing. Just murky blackness. If I wanted to see something I had to get closer. On trembling legs I began advancing. As I approached I accidently managed to disturb Steves pants with my shoe. A brief, jangling sound drew my attention. I looked down and saw the keys for the car. Instinctively, I scooped them up and at the same moment.. I realized.. that the scuffling had ceased. Without really thinking it through I said:
”Guys? A-are you serious? Stop messing around.”
I could have been mistaken, but as soon as the words left my mouth, it felt as if the temperature had dropped significantly. That said, since the sounds had stopped, maybe they were actually taking me seriously? I waited a few seconds and was about to call out again when the scuffling suddenly resumed. Most people would probably been too afraid to do anything, but I had just about had it. My blood was boiling. Fear had been replaced by anger. We were leaving, even if I had to drag them out myself. I started marching towards the open door, but only made it half-way before someone came into view, from behind the church. It was Peter. The look on his face radiated what I can only describe as unadulterated terror. He put a shaking finger against his lips as if to tell me to be quiet and with his other hand he motioned for the cemetery entrance. As I slowly started to sneak away from the structure, I could hear the shuffling making its way towards the open door. Whoever it was, they did not wear shoes and their gait was unnatural… as if they were just getting used to the skin they were wearing. Once I reached Peter, I could hear him whisper under his breath:
”Whatever you do, don’t look at it…”
He grabbed me by the arm and dragged me along. Peter kicked open the gate and before I knew it we were in the car, and on the road. My mind was a blur. What had just happened, but most important of all, where was Steve? It was a miracle that we didn’t crash, especially due to how fast we were driving, but also with the weather conditions being what they were. Repeatedly, I kept asking Peter about our friend, but I got the same reply every time ”It’s not Steve anymore.” To say that I was confused was an understatement, but one thing was for certain – whatever it was that Peter had experienced while I was away, had terrified him. None of us said anything the rest of the drive back home. I had so many questions, but I knew that Peter was in no condition to give me any answers. When he finally dropped me off he told me he would return Steve’s car to his parents, and with that, he was off. I never even got the chance to say goodbye.
As soon as I walked through the door to my apartment, my cellphone rang. It was Steve’s parents, asking me if I was with their son. I don’t know why I lied. Maybe because I had no idea what had happened? Instead I said that he probably tagged along to crash at Peter’s place. I did my best to assure them that he would get back to them the next morning.
It must’ve been about 5:00 or 6:00 AM when I finally passed out.
I can’t remember what time it was when I heard my phone ring, but it was dark outside. In my languid state, I reached out for my phone and answered it.
”H-hello..?”
At first it sounded like someone breathing. Was someone trying to prank me? Then someone spoke.
”I am his witness. Steve is his vessel”
It was Peter, but he sounded.. different. What was he on about?
”H-hey man.. you ok? Is Steve with you?”
”The wolf’s grin. The serpent’s skin. Behold, his charnel crown, six feet underground.”
After that, he hung up, leaving me perplexed and to be honest, quite creeped out. I had never heard that phrase before and there was something uncanny about his voice; almost as if he was intoxicated. I decided not to call him back. If he actually was drunk, or worst case scenario, high, then it wouldn’t result in anything positive. Instead I went through my phone, but no missed calls from Steve or his parents. Strange. I looked out my window. It was dark outside. A handful of streetlights illuminated the walkways that snaked their way between the nearby apartments and houses. Not a single soul in sight. That’s when it hit me. Maybe, just maybe, this was all an elaborate prank by Steve and Peter, a final ”send off” before highschool ended and the three of us would go our separate ways? If that was the case, they sure outdid themselves this time, since we used to prank each other constantly back when we were growing up together. Whether or not that was the case, my reasoning put my mind at ease and before I knew it I was sound asleep. Tomorrow, everything would be back to normal. Just another week of school. Peter and Steve would tell me it was all a joke and we would laugh about it.
But the next day, I woke up to a nightmare.
I was running a bit late and when I arrived there were two police cars parked on the schools parking lot. At first I didn’t make the connection as to why they were there, but it became evident the moment I entered the classroom. I found out that Steve was still missing, but that they had found his car on a narrow gravel road in the woods, 20 minutes away from our town. In the drivers seat they found the lifeless body belonging to Peter. The teachers and police didn’t tell us any details, but later that day I heard rumours that his eyes had been gouged out. Someone, I can’t recall who, said that there was blood on his fingers, as if he had done it to himself.
According to the newspapers, Steve is still missing. But I’m not so sure anymore. You see, five minutes ago, I received a phone call from an unknown number. I recognized the voice and I’ve come to realize what Peter meant when he said ”It’s not Steve anymore.” Before he hung up, ”Steve”, uttered four words.
”You are the sacrifice.”