Blood Rituals
Blood Ritual
Rain pummeled the front windshield of John Emerson’s vehicle. It had been pouring like this ever since he left his house in Ashfield.
“This town must really hate me,” he mused to himself aloud. Every time he took his vacation the heavens came down to earth.
He pulled off the bridge and towards the cliff’s edge. This is where he had to be careful; apparently whoever paved this section decided it would be fun to make a slight incline towards the edge. Any sort of slip during this weather would send him sprawling through the barrier and into the abyss.
John eased off the pedal and the car came to a steady speed in which he was able to turn on the bend and move to the second bridge that led into town.
His eyes moved to the dashboard clock. He was only a few minutes out so he picked up his cell phone and clicked it on. He hit the contact at the top and waited a moment. When that moment was up he was greeted by an automated voice explaining to him how he had no signal whatsoever and should find a clearer area before dialing again.
Tossing the phone on to the passenger side chair, he peered out the window and smiled. He was on a bridge with nothing but the river beneath him, and no trees at all. How much clearer could it get?
Lightning struck somewhere ahead of him and reminded him that it was obviously the storm screwing with his phone. He shrugged to himself; he’d be at the house soon enough anyways.
******
In town he found that most of the places were shut down. A bar or two was still open, but it seemed as though the storm forced everyone into their homes. Not even the diners that took in passing truckers were open.
This storm must have put the fear of God in people.
The stop lights weren’t functioning but since there weren’t any cars on the road yet it didn’t bother John. He pulled through the road, driving slowly, taking in the way the place looked without any life in it. He’d never seen it like this before. Even when he’d visited before the storms were never this bad.
John turned the corner and crossed the drawbridge into the residential district. The houses looked deserted. Storm must have knocked out the power… he thought as he made the turn and came upon his destination.
There was already a car in the driveway so John parked on the curb. He took a moment to gather his phone and overnight bag. Preparing himself for the onslaught of rain and hail, he opened the door and ran for the awning. The roofing above him threatened to come down on him while he fumbled for his keys. Finally he pulled out the one key he needed and slid it into the lock. John grabbed his bag off the ground, twisted the knob, and pushed his way inside.
******
Closing the door behind him, he set his bag down and unzipped his coat. He hung it on the rack and moved across the wooden floor to the kitchen.
The room was clean and organized aside from some pictures and notes stuck to the refrigerator. John made his way over there and opened the door. Inside was a plate of chocolate chip cookies with plastic over it. Smirking, he looked around him, making sure no one was there.
Once he was satisfied he slid the plate out and set it on the island counter. He grabbed a glass, some milk, and sat down on the stool at the counter.
He checked his phone while taking a bite out of the soft treat in his hand. Still no signal. Letting a slight sigh of annoyance, he put down the cookie and grabbed his bag. Plopping it down on the stool next to his, he unzipped it and pulled out his laptop.
Flipping it open he noticed the internal clock displayed that it was nearing four in the morning. He blinked in surprise; time had got away from him. He thought about getting some sleep, but passed on the notion. He had plenty of time to do his job here so there was no rush, plus he was enjoying his cookies too much.
Letting out a yawn, John stretched out his arms and began pulling on the cuffs of his green long sleeves so that they were a bit roomier. Focusing on the laptop in front of him, he moved the mouse and opened up some files he had stashed on it before he’d left his house. He was glad he had the forethought to put them directly on the machine instead of trying to download them once he got here.
Resting his chin in his hand, he began reading over the documents he’d written a few days ago. He had already memorized them, but with power out and nothing better to do it didn’t hurt to be a little more prepared.
******
John looked up from the computer and checked his cell phone. The time was quarter to five in the morning. He rubbed his eyes and put his hand on the laptop.
“You’re here?” said a voice behind him.
Half awake, he thought he imagined the voice and ignored it.
“John?” This time he turned around. A woman stood behind him looking as awake as he was.