[03] out of the darkness, into the pit

[gabriel_grey]

The hallway is long, pitch dark, a vague light farther down the way.

[You will live"There you are." Grant reaches out in the darkness and rests a hand on Jeffrey's shoulder. "You shouldn't be afraid," he says as the other man trembles, "I did what had to be done." He can feel the heavy energy in his pocket from the Other's bones

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[gabriel_grey]

Grant's basement is small, just enough room for the washer and dryer, the water heater and the furnace (also an old coal burning stove that's fallen out of use). A worktable sits against one wall with small hand tools, a can of varnish, brushes, and a dropcloth. There is shelving on the opposite wall. The shelves themselves are full of the usual things found in basements; turpentine, old cans of paint, tools, gardening things

[jmlevitt]

He tries to stand up, but the attempt only results in a painful jolt as his rope leash tightens. Another flash of memory--a hard wooden chair, handcuffs, overhead lights snapping on one by one--and then it's gone again. Another attempt at movement reveals that his hands are tied as well. "Oh God..." he whimpers, and he starts trembling again (Have faith, have faith).

The scuttling is the worst. He can hear the clicking of thousands of tiny feet scurrying, the sounds of the devils. He mutters to himself, old half-remembered prayers, but the sound refuses to be drowned out.

He tries screaming instead. "Help! Somebody help me!"

[she_leads]

"Jeffrey," she says, visible suddenly, slipping out from behind the chair. "Shh. It's all right."

Confidence. She speaks with such confidence.

[jmlevitt]

Her soothing voice calms his fear, but only a little. Even with his Angel here, he can still hear the horrid scuttling from the corner, and his eyes continually dart to the hutches. He wishes the rope was long enough to let him cover his ears. "I was afraid I did something wrong," he says, his voice full of relief. "This is part of God's plan?" He made the mistake of doubting Her once. He didn't want to make that mistake again.

[she_leads]

"Yes." Perhaps there's a hint of sadness in her voice - it wavers, just slightly, at the edge of the word. "This is all part of His plan. We're going to meet a friend here, Jeffrey."

[jmlevitt]

He smiles. If this was part of God's plan, then everything would be all right. "I understand. That's why you wanted me to ally with the murderer. It will bring your friend here, yes?" (Have faith, have faith)

[she_leads]

"The 'murderer' kept you safe from the man in the shadows," she says. "And he'll let us meet my friend. Our friend, Jeffrey. But it's very important that you don't tell him this, that you let him believe you'll be alone here."

She leans down in front of Jeremiah and gently touches his cheek. "God will reward you for your troubles. You won't be harmed."

She disappears between his blinks.

[gabriel_grey]

Not a heartbeat after she disappears, the rattling of a padlock being unlatched can be heard from the top of the stairs, then footfalls coming down. Jeremiah's captor appears, carrying a battered leather briefcase. Grant glances at him, not making eye contact, and sets the case on the bench. He opens it; the contents aren't visible. He removes something small, wrapped in wax paper stained dark.

Without a word, he crosses the room to the hutches, opens one and reaches inside. A small beetle with a red carapace crawls out of the hutch and over his arm.

[jmlevitt]

The shower seems to have done Jeremiah some good. It's done wonders for the smell, certainly. His hands are still shaking when Grant comes down, and he draws his knees to his chest and rocks back and forth. He says nothing, oddly calm other than the nervous movements, following Grant with his eyes. It's not until he sees the beetle that he becomes agitated again. "Why do you keep those things?" he hisses, horrified. "The animals belong to them. don't you know that?"

[gabriel_grey]

"They are very useful little creatures." He removes something small from the hutch, easily hidden within his palm, and sets it next to the hutch. Small, white things. Bones, picked clean. He unfolds the stained wax paper and places the Stranger's finger inside. A second, slightly more pink with a deep red painted fingernail, follows.

Grant hasn't noticed the beetle on his sleeve. It's making its way to his back, chugging right along. He closes the hutch and gathers up the bones.

"Are you hungry? Something to drink?" Kill him already. The longer he lives the more you become

I can't. Not yet.

[jmlevitt]

He doesn't believe me. He wonders if Grant ever believed him to begin with, or if it was all just a ruse. It doesn't matter. The Angel promised. He shakes his head. "Not hungry," he says, quiet. His eyes follow the beetle as it crawls up his sleeves. "But um...water would be good."

He looks at the clean, stripped bones in Grant's hands. "Why do you take the fingers?" he asks.

[gabriel_grey]

The bones end up on the workbench.

There's a large laundry washbasin with a gooseneck faucet next to the washing machine. Grant hunts up a mug and rinces it out before filling it with water. Along the way, the beetle starts moving down his waist and then his pantsleg. When Grant crouches in front of Jeremiah it hops off entirely and disappears behind a stack of cardboard boxes.

"Have you ever heard of the ancient hunters that would eat the hearts of their fallen enemies to gain their power and knowledge?" He'll help Jeremiah take a drink, if he wants it.

[jmlevitt]

He tears his eyes off the beetle when it disappears, and takes the drink gratefully. "Yeah," he says, frowning. "You think it's in the fingers?" He sounds...doubtful.

[gabriel_grey]

"Of course it is. The body is a vessel for the soul. When they made sacrifice, Mayans would pull the still beating heart from the chest and later would consume it." So serene, in control. Yes, control is good. "I don't believe in cannibalism, so I keep the bones. They are all I need."

Smile.

"The demons want to kill you, and they want to stop me. But they never will." He thinks he knows what Jeremiah is to him. He is the last one. The most powerful of all. The Believer is the most powerful soul of all.

[jmlevitt]

He shakes his head sadly. "Only until death. The soul is God's, and He decides our fate when we die. The righteous join Him in heaven, the wicked are cast away from him in Hell. These false beliefs will do you no good, Brian." He leans forward. "It's never too late. Repent your sins, seek forgiveness in Christ. God's capacity for forgiveness is infinite."

[instrument_of]

A second later, and there's a knock knock knock audible from the front door, followed by the doorbell, followed by more knocking, followed by the doorbell again.

This is Dave Tillman. He is tired, he is desperate, and he would very much like to get inside. His hands are trembling as he presses down the doorbell. Come on, come on.