Entry 04: There Was No Sound
Title: There Was No Sound
Entry Number: 04
Author: insaneladybug/Lucky_Ladybug
Fandom: The Rockford Files
Rating: PG-13/T (possession, attempted murder and suicide, mentions of a cult)
Genre: Supernatural/Friendship
Spoiler Warnings: None.
Word Count: 3,561
Continued from the previous piece. I finally took it and fleshed it out immensely. I hope it's okay to edit with the new version!
By Lucky_Ladybug
The next days passed in relative peace. Ginger and Lou went to work, occasionally out to dinner, and returned home without anything resembling the dream being fulfilled. But they were both still uneasy, even though their feelings began to fade as day after day went by without anything happening concerning said dream.
Lou felt a certain foreboding when a week passed. Somehow he knew that something would go wrong on that day. Panicked and horrified by the very thought of harming Ginger, he clutched the blessed medallion his mother had given him and prayed in anguish for it not to come to pass.
And if it starts happening anyway, please, please don't let me hurt Ginger, he begged. If it comes to it, strike me dead instead of letting me hurt Ginger.
But that wasn't a good solution, either. Ginger would be devastated, even broken, without him. Lou was the only person Ginger truly cared about. Lou hated to think of leaving such a mess with both Ginger and Mike heartbroken over his death.
Please . . . let us both come out of this alive, he finished.
Ginger wandered to the doorway of Lou's room. "We're going to be late for work," he frowned. "What are you doing?"
Lou let go of the medallion, slipping it back under his shirt. "Ginger . . ." He looked up at the older man. "I think we need to be extra careful today."
Ginger raised an eyebrow. "You aren't still thinking of that preposterous dream."
"Yeah, I am." Lou stood and went to the doorway, swiping his keys off the desk as he walked. "Ginger, the fact that we both had the same dream has to mean something. That just doesn't happen to people!"
"Neither does possession and being forced to kill your closest friend," Ginger grunted.
Lou walked with him to the stairs and down to the ground floor. At the bottom, he stopped and turned, regarding Ginger with pleading eyes. "Ginger, I have a really bad feeling about today," he confessed. "Please . . . promise me you'll be careful."
"I will be," Ginger relented. "But the vow applies to you as well."
Lou nodded. "I'll be careful," he said. "What I'm afraid of is that there's not gonna be any way to stop whatever's going to happen."
"If there is any meaning behind our shared dream, I can't think it would be that our deaths are imminent and there is no way to prevent them," Ginger returned. "More likely it's a warning and we can come out of this just fine, if we know what needs to be done." He hesitated. "And unfortunately, I don't."
"I don't, either," Lou said quietly. "I wish I did. Oh God, I wish I did."
****
Lou's feelings were all too correct. At the end of the workday, when he and Ginger retired to the parking garage to retrieve the car, several strange, robed figures were waiting for them.
"What the heck?!" Lou could not help exclaiming. Of all the things he had been envisioning, it most certainly was not this.
Ginger frowned at the lot of them. "Just what is your business here?" he demanded, a dangerous edge in his voice. It was a tone that still frightened many, who knew that Ginger's anger was not to be trifled with.
"You are our business," replied the figure in the lead. "We will escort you to where we want you to be and then you will hear what we have to say."
"You have the cheek to think you can simply abduct us?" Ginger scoffed. "Not bloody likely."
A gun clicked, then another and a third. To Lou's absolute horror, every one of the characters in front of them was drawing a weapon from out of their billowing sleeves. And when Ginger moved to knock the leader's gun from his hand, more guns began clicking from behind them.
"You're quite surrounded," the stranger informed them. "Now, get in your car and follow mine. If you should attempt to break away, the cars that will be flanking you and following behind you will see that you have an unpleasant fate."
"Worse than what you've got planned for us?!" Lou retorted, unable to keep quiet or think of obliging them. "If our choices are getting into a wreck or getting pitted against each other, I'm gonna choose the first."
The leader wavered, just slightly. "What on Earth makes you think we have any such thing in mind for you?" he asked, still keeping his gun firmly pointed at Ginger's heart.
"Let's just say because something or someone doesn't want you to go through with it," Lou said.
"Too bad for them, because we are." The figures began to close in from all sides. "Yes, you're quite right, Mr. Trevino. You see, you came into possession of something a while back-a unique medallion that you put on. When you did, the spirit inhabiting that medallion tried to force you to murder Mr. Townsend."
"It failed," Lou interjected. "I wouldn't do it."
"And that's what we've come to rectify." The leader's eyes gleamed from somewhere deep in the shadowed hood. "It thirsts for Mr. Townsend's blood. It will not be satisfied until it has spilled it, through you."
The color drained from Lou's face. "You . . . you're crazy!" he burst out. "You're all completely nuts!"
Ginger was tense, watching them, trying to anticipate their next move. He wished someone else would enter the garage and surprise these madmen, but he knew it was unlikely. He and Lou had been among the very last to leave, perhaps even the very last.
"And how do you propose to force Lou to do this wretched deed?" he spoke. "The medallion is supposed to be encased in cement at the bottom of the Pacific Ocean."
"But the spirit isn't tied to it and only it," the leader said, growing more animated in his words. "It came to us and now will pass to you!" He pointed at Lou as he spoke.
Lou gasped in utter horror and shock. He could feel something dark and evil leaping into his body, as though it had sprang from the leader's outstretched arm. He fell back, clutching his chest.
Ginger immediately snapped to attention. "Lou!"
Lou waved a hand at Ginger. "Stay away!" he cried, panic-stricken. "Don't come near me. I . . ." He choked and then screamed, gripping his heart as he sank to his knees, his eyes cast upward at the roof of the garage.
Ginger looked to the leader in unbridled fury. "Take your wicked spell off him this instant!" he ordered.
"If he fails to kill you this time, you will both be allowed to depart from us in peace and not be bothered any further." The man tossed a small object in Lou's direction. It clattered on the concrete in front of him and he stared at it, blankly. Ginger could see that it was an onyx ring.
"Pick it up," the leader commanded. "Pick it up and force it onto his finger."
As if he were a marionette, Lou scooped up the ring and got to his feet, turning to Ginger with blank, unfeeling eyes. Suddenly they flamed with sadistic fire and he sneered, grinning wickedly at Ginger. He lunged without warning.
Ginger stumbled, grabbing at Lou in desperation to fight him off. "Lou!" In vain he tried to push the stocky, powerful man away from him. "Lou, get hold of yourself. You're playing right into their hands!"
Lou responded by shoving Ginger to the floor and immediately diving at him, straddling him, trying to get the ring on his finger even as Ginger struggled and flailed and tried to get away from him.
"Blast, Lou, I don't want to hurt you!" Ginger cried. He wasn't even sure he could if he tried. But Lou was not being able to take control and the fear from the previous incident of possession was gripping at Ginger like a vise. When at last he attempted to kick out and knee Lou in the stomach, it only served to make Lou bend over him all the more, grabbing his wrist, twisting it painfully as he tried to slip the ring onto Ginger's finger.
Ginger curled the fingers of his left hand into a fist. "You're not going to do this to me, demon," he snarled. "And you're not going to do it to Lou. He will never cease being haunted and heartbroken if anything happens to me because of this!"
A harsh punch in the face was his answer. Stunned, Ginger slumped back. Lou took the opportunity to attack his closed fist, slamming it into the ground and forcing it to open as Ginger shouted in pain. Sneering malevolently, and pressing the open hand hard into the concrete to keep it from closing again, Lou shoved the ring onto Ginger's pinky finger.
Instantly Ginger went stiff. He turned his head with great effort, staring at Lou even as his eyes began to sink closed. Then he was still.
"Perfect," the leader declared with glee. "Now you will take the body and lay it in the passenger seat of your car. You will drive to our specified location for the ritual."
Lou obediently reached down and lifted Ginger's motionless, unconscious form into his arms. As he did, his eyes flickered with anguish. He could not speak out loud; the demon was holding his tongue as well as all of his other free movements.
What did I do? Ginger . . . please wake up. Oh God, please, let him wake up.
But Ginger lay still. And the demon was stronger than before, perhaps because it was free of the medallion. Lou could only place Ginger in the seat as ordered and then walk around to the other side of the car.
Even if we get out of this, how can I ever forgive myself for what I've just done and what I'm going to do now?
He could hear the demon laughing in his mind. He screamed back, wanting and trying with all his heart to force it out of his body.
But he could not.
He could only start the engine and begin driving to their shared doom.
****
Wake up, wake up. . . .
It was just as they had dreamed and feared.
Lou was standing over the open coffin, staring emotionlessly down at Ginger's still body. But it was only on the outside that Lou was unemotional. Inside, he was screaming.
Although Ginger looked dead, Lou knew he was alive. The onyx ring that had been forced onto his finger-that he had forced onto Ginger's finger-had slowed his breathing and left him in this helpless, senseless state. Lou couldn't begin to understand how or why it caused such a reaction. And right now, he had far more horrifying things to think about. As he stood over Ginger with the dreaded knife in hand, there was nothing either of them could do to stop the horror from playing out exactly as in the dream.
Wake up, wake up!
If only he had enough independent movement to reach down and pull the ring from Ginger's finger. Then Ginger might regain consciousness in time to restrain Lou's hand, or to leap away, if Lou could not refrain from attacking with the knife.
What manner of mad people were these?! They were waiting outside the building right now, determined to let this unheard-of barbarism play out without their constant observation. But their torches were visible through the windows, flickering in the chill night. They were convinced that Lou would do as they wished-or perhaps he should say, convinced that the demon would do as it wished.
And it certainly seemed to be intent on exactly that. It was a horrifying, sickening parasite, something Lou could not communicate with even while knowing with complete assurance that it was truly there. It was laughing at him, enjoying and feeding off of his misery as it kept the knife momentarily suspended in the air over Ginger's heart.
No! No, please, God, don't let this happen. Don't let me kill Ginger.
There was nothing he could do to force the arm away, no matter how hard he tried.
****
Ginger hated to not be in control of a situation, any situation.
He was most certainly not in control of this one. He knew he had to wake up, to not allow this to happen for either his sake or Lou's, but he could not move. He was trapped in this coma, forced upon him by the spell of the ring.
Lou had once talked him out of a spell-induced coma because of his genuine love for Ginger. But there was nothing Lou could do now. Lou needed help himself.
The memory of the demon controlling Lou's actions and features was haunting. Ginger's stomach turned even as he thought of it. That was not Lou. When the creature had possessed Lou before, Ginger had often seen flickers of Lou in his eyes. This time, there had not been any such flickers. It was chilling.
What if it meant that there was no hope for Lou or him this time?
No, he would not accept that. He was going to keep fighting. And he would keep believing in Lou. Perhaps the demon was stronger, but Lou was stronger still. Lou would come through.
And so would Ginger. He was not going to be defeated by a ring or a spell. He was going to come out of it.
"Wake up!"
He jumped a mile. He could hear Lou's voice echoing in despairing agony in his mind.
Yes, Lou was still there. Lou could still be saved. And that knowledge was the added burst of strength Ginger needed right now.
He pushed against the ring's power with all his might.
****
Lou was still looming over Ginger, his eyes glittering with the demon's anticipation as he fought with the knife. He had been struggling to keep it from plunging into Ginger's chest, but he had not been able to regain enough control to do anything about it.
Maybe . . . maybe . . . if he could only move, he could stab himself instead of Ginger. It wasn't a solution, but . . . what if anyone's blood would satisfy it, and not just Ginger's? Then maybe . . .
His hand started to bring the knife down, still at Ginger.
No! I won't, I won't!
He didn't know how he managed it, but somehow he forced his hand to twist around and change directions, pointing at him instead of Ginger. The demon screamed in rage, using his mouth to do it, but didn't try to stop Lou from stabbing himself.
And suddenly, impossibly, Ginger's eyes flew open. The ring was still on his finger, but he was awake. He lunged, grabbing Lou's right arm as they collapsed to the floor, struggling over the weapon.
"No," he snarled. "Don't do it, Lou. We can fight this bloodthirsty devil. It can't have me, and it can't have you, either!" His knuckles white, he gripped at Lou's arm, tighter, tighter, trying to force him to let go of the knife.
Lou's eyes flamed with the demon's hatred. He reached with his left hand, getting his thick fingers around Ginger's throat. Ginger gasped and choked, falling back. One of his hands came away from Lou's arm, grabbing for the tightening hand.
"Lou," he hissed. "Lou, don't let him do it. Fight, Lou. Fight!"
Lou was strong when he was himself, and with this demon controlling him he was almost unstoppable. The hand left Ginger's throat and instead pressed over his nose and mouth, suffocating him. Ginger clawed at the hand, desperate, praying for Lou to come back to himself before the damage was irreparable.
You're stronger than it. I don't just believe that; I know it! You won't let it kill me!
Dizzy from his oxygen still being cut off, his grip loosened as he sank to the floor.
Again the knife turned towards Lou. But then, suddenly, his hand shook and it clattered to the floor. Lou's other hand released Ginger, shaking.
Breathing heavily, he slumped back. He had never stopped fighting or praying, no matter how deafening the demon's laughter had become. And now, somehow, he had forced his way through this insanity and broke free.
But . . . was he too late? Ginger wasn't moving again. And unlike after Lou had first forced the ring onto his finger, his face was ashen.
"God, oh God, what have I done?" Lou rasped, gazing down at the motionless body. "I killed him. I couldn't stop myself! I couldn't!"
Trembling uncontrollably, he tried to check for signs of life. But, afraid to use his hands, he bent down, praying to feel Ginger's breath on his face.
He was rewarded. Ginger was not only breathing, he was weakly opening his eyes. "Lou . . ." His voice was quiet, rasping. He choked, trying to gulp in the welcome air. "Lou, for the love of . . . I'm not dead."
Lou stared, amazed and stunned and cautiously joyous. Did he dare to believe? Was this real? What if Ginger was dead and the demon had taken possession of him, instead?
"Lou!" Ginger reached up, grabbing at Lou's wrist. "Lou, it's me."
"How do I know?" Lou finally asked, his voice shaking. "How can I possibly know it's you and not . . . not it?"
"I always knew when it had you because of your eyes," Ginger returned. "Look into my eyes. Do you see any sign of it there?"
Lou swallowed hard. Ginger's eyes were clear and blue and familiar. There was nothing strange or unsettling or foreign in them.
"Ginger," he gasped in thankful relief. "It's you. Just you and not it." He reached out to help Ginger sit up. As Ginger accepted the assistance and slowly rose, Lou could not refrain from drawing him into a joyous embrace. He had thought they would never come out of this, that he would kill Ginger, that he would then turn the knife on himself. But at least for now, they were safe from those horrors.
He started to quickly pull back, knowing that Ginger was not generally fond of being touched. Ginger was looking at him, a bit surprised but not angry. Slowly, wordlessly, he returned the embrace.
"Ginger . . ." Lou looked to the onyx ring on Ginger's finger as they both drew back for real. "How did you even wake up with that thing on? They said you wouldn't be able to."
Ginger frowned and looked to it, tugging at it in annoyance until it came off. "I don't know," he admitted. "I was trying to, and then I heard you screaming at me to wake up. And somehow I did."
Lou slumped back. "But . . . I didn't say it out loud," he protested. "I couldn't."
Ginger paused, looking at him. "I heard you anyway," he said, not knowing how to ever even begin to explain it.
Lou shook his head. After everything else, that seemed the least strange thing that had happened. "I believe you, Buddy," he said. "In the end, you have to see that I was right, don't you? Something was looking out for us."
"I suppose there really isn't any other logical explanation," Ginger conceded. "Although I still find it hard to believe that we would be given such consideration."
"There's people on the other side who still care about us even with what we've done," Lou insisted. "But if that's too hard for you to believe, Ginger, look at it this way: If the cult had succeeded with what they wanted to do, who knows what else they might have done to people a lot less deserving than you and me."
"True," Ginger acknowledged. "If they were allowed to operate unchecked, they might have even brought about a premature Armageddon."
"And God wouldn't want that," Lou said.
Ginger glanced towards the door. "And now we'll have to go outside and face those twits," he frowned. "We'll see whether they truly meant what they said about leaving us alone if we both emerge alive."
"They probably will," Lou said. "They'll be so freaked out that their demon didn't win that they'll completely back off."
"And when we return to civilization we'll see that the police are sent after them," Ginger determined. "Naturally we can't delve into any of that demon nonsense, but we can report that we were abducted and that they tried to force you to murder me."
Lou nodded. "We don't have any proof, though," he worried.
"No, but perhaps the police are already building a case against them," Ginger suggested. "And for once, I would like to help in building a police case."
"Me too," Lou agreed, bitterly. "Creeps like them shouldn't be allowed to operate."
He got to his feet and reached out a hand to help Ginger up. Ginger accepted it, grabbing his fallen trenchcoat with his other hand as he rose.
"I'd like to take that ring and burn it," he growled, "but it's evidence. We'll take it with us."
"We'd better take this too, I guess," Lou said, grabbing up the knife.
The cult members were gathered on the front lawn, their torches still held high in the October night. When the doors opened and both Ginger and Lou stepped out, they stiffened in horror. As Lou had predicted, they were allowed to pass through without further incident.
Entry Number: 04
Author: insaneladybug/Lucky_Ladybug
Fandom: The Rockford Files
Rating: PG-13/T (possession, attempted murder and suicide, mentions of a cult)
Genre: Supernatural/Friendship
Spoiler Warnings: None.
Word Count: 3,561
Continued from the previous piece. I finally took it and fleshed it out immensely. I hope it's okay to edit with the new version!
By Lucky_Ladybug
The next days passed in relative peace. Ginger and Lou went to work, occasionally out to dinner, and returned home without anything resembling the dream being fulfilled. But they were both still uneasy, even though their feelings began to fade as day after day went by without anything happening concerning said dream.
Lou felt a certain foreboding when a week passed. Somehow he knew that something would go wrong on that day. Panicked and horrified by the very thought of harming Ginger, he clutched the blessed medallion his mother had given him and prayed in anguish for it not to come to pass.
And if it starts happening anyway, please, please don't let me hurt Ginger, he begged. If it comes to it, strike me dead instead of letting me hurt Ginger.
But that wasn't a good solution, either. Ginger would be devastated, even broken, without him. Lou was the only person Ginger truly cared about. Lou hated to think of leaving such a mess with both Ginger and Mike heartbroken over his death.
Please . . . let us both come out of this alive, he finished.
Ginger wandered to the doorway of Lou's room. "We're going to be late for work," he frowned. "What are you doing?"
Lou let go of the medallion, slipping it back under his shirt. "Ginger . . ." He looked up at the older man. "I think we need to be extra careful today."
Ginger raised an eyebrow. "You aren't still thinking of that preposterous dream."
"Yeah, I am." Lou stood and went to the doorway, swiping his keys off the desk as he walked. "Ginger, the fact that we both had the same dream has to mean something. That just doesn't happen to people!"
"Neither does possession and being forced to kill your closest friend," Ginger grunted.
Lou walked with him to the stairs and down to the ground floor. At the bottom, he stopped and turned, regarding Ginger with pleading eyes. "Ginger, I have a really bad feeling about today," he confessed. "Please . . . promise me you'll be careful."
"I will be," Ginger relented. "But the vow applies to you as well."
Lou nodded. "I'll be careful," he said. "What I'm afraid of is that there's not gonna be any way to stop whatever's going to happen."
"If there is any meaning behind our shared dream, I can't think it would be that our deaths are imminent and there is no way to prevent them," Ginger returned. "More likely it's a warning and we can come out of this just fine, if we know what needs to be done." He hesitated. "And unfortunately, I don't."
"I don't, either," Lou said quietly. "I wish I did. Oh God, I wish I did."
****
Lou's feelings were all too correct. At the end of the workday, when he and Ginger retired to the parking garage to retrieve the car, several strange, robed figures were waiting for them.
"What the heck?!" Lou could not help exclaiming. Of all the things he had been envisioning, it most certainly was not this.
Ginger frowned at the lot of them. "Just what is your business here?" he demanded, a dangerous edge in his voice. It was a tone that still frightened many, who knew that Ginger's anger was not to be trifled with.
"You are our business," replied the figure in the lead. "We will escort you to where we want you to be and then you will hear what we have to say."
"You have the cheek to think you can simply abduct us?" Ginger scoffed. "Not bloody likely."
A gun clicked, then another and a third. To Lou's absolute horror, every one of the characters in front of them was drawing a weapon from out of their billowing sleeves. And when Ginger moved to knock the leader's gun from his hand, more guns began clicking from behind them.
"You're quite surrounded," the stranger informed them. "Now, get in your car and follow mine. If you should attempt to break away, the cars that will be flanking you and following behind you will see that you have an unpleasant fate."
"Worse than what you've got planned for us?!" Lou retorted, unable to keep quiet or think of obliging them. "If our choices are getting into a wreck or getting pitted against each other, I'm gonna choose the first."
The leader wavered, just slightly. "What on Earth makes you think we have any such thing in mind for you?" he asked, still keeping his gun firmly pointed at Ginger's heart.
"Let's just say because something or someone doesn't want you to go through with it," Lou said.
"Too bad for them, because we are." The figures began to close in from all sides. "Yes, you're quite right, Mr. Trevino. You see, you came into possession of something a while back-a unique medallion that you put on. When you did, the spirit inhabiting that medallion tried to force you to murder Mr. Townsend."
"It failed," Lou interjected. "I wouldn't do it."
"And that's what we've come to rectify." The leader's eyes gleamed from somewhere deep in the shadowed hood. "It thirsts for Mr. Townsend's blood. It will not be satisfied until it has spilled it, through you."
The color drained from Lou's face. "You . . . you're crazy!" he burst out. "You're all completely nuts!"
Ginger was tense, watching them, trying to anticipate their next move. He wished someone else would enter the garage and surprise these madmen, but he knew it was unlikely. He and Lou had been among the very last to leave, perhaps even the very last.
"And how do you propose to force Lou to do this wretched deed?" he spoke. "The medallion is supposed to be encased in cement at the bottom of the Pacific Ocean."
"But the spirit isn't tied to it and only it," the leader said, growing more animated in his words. "It came to us and now will pass to you!" He pointed at Lou as he spoke.
Lou gasped in utter horror and shock. He could feel something dark and evil leaping into his body, as though it had sprang from the leader's outstretched arm. He fell back, clutching his chest.
Ginger immediately snapped to attention. "Lou!"
Lou waved a hand at Ginger. "Stay away!" he cried, panic-stricken. "Don't come near me. I . . ." He choked and then screamed, gripping his heart as he sank to his knees, his eyes cast upward at the roof of the garage.
Ginger looked to the leader in unbridled fury. "Take your wicked spell off him this instant!" he ordered.
"If he fails to kill you this time, you will both be allowed to depart from us in peace and not be bothered any further." The man tossed a small object in Lou's direction. It clattered on the concrete in front of him and he stared at it, blankly. Ginger could see that it was an onyx ring.
"Pick it up," the leader commanded. "Pick it up and force it onto his finger."
As if he were a marionette, Lou scooped up the ring and got to his feet, turning to Ginger with blank, unfeeling eyes. Suddenly they flamed with sadistic fire and he sneered, grinning wickedly at Ginger. He lunged without warning.
Ginger stumbled, grabbing at Lou in desperation to fight him off. "Lou!" In vain he tried to push the stocky, powerful man away from him. "Lou, get hold of yourself. You're playing right into their hands!"
Lou responded by shoving Ginger to the floor and immediately diving at him, straddling him, trying to get the ring on his finger even as Ginger struggled and flailed and tried to get away from him.
"Blast, Lou, I don't want to hurt you!" Ginger cried. He wasn't even sure he could if he tried. But Lou was not being able to take control and the fear from the previous incident of possession was gripping at Ginger like a vise. When at last he attempted to kick out and knee Lou in the stomach, it only served to make Lou bend over him all the more, grabbing his wrist, twisting it painfully as he tried to slip the ring onto Ginger's finger.
Ginger curled the fingers of his left hand into a fist. "You're not going to do this to me, demon," he snarled. "And you're not going to do it to Lou. He will never cease being haunted and heartbroken if anything happens to me because of this!"
A harsh punch in the face was his answer. Stunned, Ginger slumped back. Lou took the opportunity to attack his closed fist, slamming it into the ground and forcing it to open as Ginger shouted in pain. Sneering malevolently, and pressing the open hand hard into the concrete to keep it from closing again, Lou shoved the ring onto Ginger's pinky finger.
Instantly Ginger went stiff. He turned his head with great effort, staring at Lou even as his eyes began to sink closed. Then he was still.
"Perfect," the leader declared with glee. "Now you will take the body and lay it in the passenger seat of your car. You will drive to our specified location for the ritual."
Lou obediently reached down and lifted Ginger's motionless, unconscious form into his arms. As he did, his eyes flickered with anguish. He could not speak out loud; the demon was holding his tongue as well as all of his other free movements.
What did I do? Ginger . . . please wake up. Oh God, please, let him wake up.
But Ginger lay still. And the demon was stronger than before, perhaps because it was free of the medallion. Lou could only place Ginger in the seat as ordered and then walk around to the other side of the car.
Even if we get out of this, how can I ever forgive myself for what I've just done and what I'm going to do now?
He could hear the demon laughing in his mind. He screamed back, wanting and trying with all his heart to force it out of his body.
But he could not.
He could only start the engine and begin driving to their shared doom.
****
Wake up, wake up. . . .
It was just as they had dreamed and feared.
Lou was standing over the open coffin, staring emotionlessly down at Ginger's still body. But it was only on the outside that Lou was unemotional. Inside, he was screaming.
Although Ginger looked dead, Lou knew he was alive. The onyx ring that had been forced onto his finger-that he had forced onto Ginger's finger-had slowed his breathing and left him in this helpless, senseless state. Lou couldn't begin to understand how or why it caused such a reaction. And right now, he had far more horrifying things to think about. As he stood over Ginger with the dreaded knife in hand, there was nothing either of them could do to stop the horror from playing out exactly as in the dream.
Wake up, wake up!
If only he had enough independent movement to reach down and pull the ring from Ginger's finger. Then Ginger might regain consciousness in time to restrain Lou's hand, or to leap away, if Lou could not refrain from attacking with the knife.
What manner of mad people were these?! They were waiting outside the building right now, determined to let this unheard-of barbarism play out without their constant observation. But their torches were visible through the windows, flickering in the chill night. They were convinced that Lou would do as they wished-or perhaps he should say, convinced that the demon would do as it wished.
And it certainly seemed to be intent on exactly that. It was a horrifying, sickening parasite, something Lou could not communicate with even while knowing with complete assurance that it was truly there. It was laughing at him, enjoying and feeding off of his misery as it kept the knife momentarily suspended in the air over Ginger's heart.
No! No, please, God, don't let this happen. Don't let me kill Ginger.
There was nothing he could do to force the arm away, no matter how hard he tried.
****
Ginger hated to not be in control of a situation, any situation.
He was most certainly not in control of this one. He knew he had to wake up, to not allow this to happen for either his sake or Lou's, but he could not move. He was trapped in this coma, forced upon him by the spell of the ring.
Lou had once talked him out of a spell-induced coma because of his genuine love for Ginger. But there was nothing Lou could do now. Lou needed help himself.
The memory of the demon controlling Lou's actions and features was haunting. Ginger's stomach turned even as he thought of it. That was not Lou. When the creature had possessed Lou before, Ginger had often seen flickers of Lou in his eyes. This time, there had not been any such flickers. It was chilling.
What if it meant that there was no hope for Lou or him this time?
No, he would not accept that. He was going to keep fighting. And he would keep believing in Lou. Perhaps the demon was stronger, but Lou was stronger still. Lou would come through.
And so would Ginger. He was not going to be defeated by a ring or a spell. He was going to come out of it.
"Wake up!"
He jumped a mile. He could hear Lou's voice echoing in despairing agony in his mind.
Yes, Lou was still there. Lou could still be saved. And that knowledge was the added burst of strength Ginger needed right now.
He pushed against the ring's power with all his might.
****
Lou was still looming over Ginger, his eyes glittering with the demon's anticipation as he fought with the knife. He had been struggling to keep it from plunging into Ginger's chest, but he had not been able to regain enough control to do anything about it.
Maybe . . . maybe . . . if he could only move, he could stab himself instead of Ginger. It wasn't a solution, but . . . what if anyone's blood would satisfy it, and not just Ginger's? Then maybe . . .
His hand started to bring the knife down, still at Ginger.
No! I won't, I won't!
He didn't know how he managed it, but somehow he forced his hand to twist around and change directions, pointing at him instead of Ginger. The demon screamed in rage, using his mouth to do it, but didn't try to stop Lou from stabbing himself.
And suddenly, impossibly, Ginger's eyes flew open. The ring was still on his finger, but he was awake. He lunged, grabbing Lou's right arm as they collapsed to the floor, struggling over the weapon.
"No," he snarled. "Don't do it, Lou. We can fight this bloodthirsty devil. It can't have me, and it can't have you, either!" His knuckles white, he gripped at Lou's arm, tighter, tighter, trying to force him to let go of the knife.
Lou's eyes flamed with the demon's hatred. He reached with his left hand, getting his thick fingers around Ginger's throat. Ginger gasped and choked, falling back. One of his hands came away from Lou's arm, grabbing for the tightening hand.
"Lou," he hissed. "Lou, don't let him do it. Fight, Lou. Fight!"
Lou was strong when he was himself, and with this demon controlling him he was almost unstoppable. The hand left Ginger's throat and instead pressed over his nose and mouth, suffocating him. Ginger clawed at the hand, desperate, praying for Lou to come back to himself before the damage was irreparable.
You're stronger than it. I don't just believe that; I know it! You won't let it kill me!
Dizzy from his oxygen still being cut off, his grip loosened as he sank to the floor.
Again the knife turned towards Lou. But then, suddenly, his hand shook and it clattered to the floor. Lou's other hand released Ginger, shaking.
Breathing heavily, he slumped back. He had never stopped fighting or praying, no matter how deafening the demon's laughter had become. And now, somehow, he had forced his way through this insanity and broke free.
But . . . was he too late? Ginger wasn't moving again. And unlike after Lou had first forced the ring onto his finger, his face was ashen.
"God, oh God, what have I done?" Lou rasped, gazing down at the motionless body. "I killed him. I couldn't stop myself! I couldn't!"
Trembling uncontrollably, he tried to check for signs of life. But, afraid to use his hands, he bent down, praying to feel Ginger's breath on his face.
He was rewarded. Ginger was not only breathing, he was weakly opening his eyes. "Lou . . ." His voice was quiet, rasping. He choked, trying to gulp in the welcome air. "Lou, for the love of . . . I'm not dead."
Lou stared, amazed and stunned and cautiously joyous. Did he dare to believe? Was this real? What if Ginger was dead and the demon had taken possession of him, instead?
"Lou!" Ginger reached up, grabbing at Lou's wrist. "Lou, it's me."
"How do I know?" Lou finally asked, his voice shaking. "How can I possibly know it's you and not . . . not it?"
"I always knew when it had you because of your eyes," Ginger returned. "Look into my eyes. Do you see any sign of it there?"
Lou swallowed hard. Ginger's eyes were clear and blue and familiar. There was nothing strange or unsettling or foreign in them.
"Ginger," he gasped in thankful relief. "It's you. Just you and not it." He reached out to help Ginger sit up. As Ginger accepted the assistance and slowly rose, Lou could not refrain from drawing him into a joyous embrace. He had thought they would never come out of this, that he would kill Ginger, that he would then turn the knife on himself. But at least for now, they were safe from those horrors.
He started to quickly pull back, knowing that Ginger was not generally fond of being touched. Ginger was looking at him, a bit surprised but not angry. Slowly, wordlessly, he returned the embrace.
"Ginger . . ." Lou looked to the onyx ring on Ginger's finger as they both drew back for real. "How did you even wake up with that thing on? They said you wouldn't be able to."
Ginger frowned and looked to it, tugging at it in annoyance until it came off. "I don't know," he admitted. "I was trying to, and then I heard you screaming at me to wake up. And somehow I did."
Lou slumped back. "But . . . I didn't say it out loud," he protested. "I couldn't."
Ginger paused, looking at him. "I heard you anyway," he said, not knowing how to ever even begin to explain it.
Lou shook his head. After everything else, that seemed the least strange thing that had happened. "I believe you, Buddy," he said. "In the end, you have to see that I was right, don't you? Something was looking out for us."
"I suppose there really isn't any other logical explanation," Ginger conceded. "Although I still find it hard to believe that we would be given such consideration."
"There's people on the other side who still care about us even with what we've done," Lou insisted. "But if that's too hard for you to believe, Ginger, look at it this way: If the cult had succeeded with what they wanted to do, who knows what else they might have done to people a lot less deserving than you and me."
"True," Ginger acknowledged. "If they were allowed to operate unchecked, they might have even brought about a premature Armageddon."
"And God wouldn't want that," Lou said.
Ginger glanced towards the door. "And now we'll have to go outside and face those twits," he frowned. "We'll see whether they truly meant what they said about leaving us alone if we both emerge alive."
"They probably will," Lou said. "They'll be so freaked out that their demon didn't win that they'll completely back off."
"And when we return to civilization we'll see that the police are sent after them," Ginger determined. "Naturally we can't delve into any of that demon nonsense, but we can report that we were abducted and that they tried to force you to murder me."
Lou nodded. "We don't have any proof, though," he worried.
"No, but perhaps the police are already building a case against them," Ginger suggested. "And for once, I would like to help in building a police case."
"Me too," Lou agreed, bitterly. "Creeps like them shouldn't be allowed to operate."
He got to his feet and reached out a hand to help Ginger up. Ginger accepted it, grabbing his fallen trenchcoat with his other hand as he rose.
"I'd like to take that ring and burn it," he growled, "but it's evidence. We'll take it with us."
"We'd better take this too, I guess," Lou said, grabbing up the knife.
The cult members were gathered on the front lawn, their torches still held high in the October night. When the doors opened and both Ginger and Lou stepped out, they stiffened in horror. As Lou had predicted, they were allowed to pass through without further incident.