The Devil's Touch Read online

  SATAN'S WARRIORS

  Judith Mayberry opened her mouth to scream when a paw-like hand clamped around her ankle and another covered her mouth. She was dragged to a thicket and pulled down into the earth through a hole she never knew existed. When Judith came to her senses she was naked and cold.

  She had never seen such horrible-looking monsters in all her life. Not even in the movies!

  Suddenly two young Beasts seized Judith and forced her to a hands and knees position. Then the old Beast bit her on the neck several times as he mated with her. After a short time she started getting warmer. She looked at the back of her hands. Thick coarse hair was sprouting, not just on the back of her hands, but all over her body.

  Her face, especially her jaw, was beginning to ache. Her teeth felt odd. She ran her tongue over them and found they were fanged. Several of the Beasts were talking and Judith found she could understand them. She crawled over and they welcomed her.

  She was one of them.

  She tossed her head, glad of her new strength and body. One earring gleamed dully in the gloom of the cave, as it remained pierced in place. That was all that was left of the woman once known as Judith Mayberry.

  The Devil's work had begun…

  BY WILLIAM W. JOHNSTONE

  Pinnacle Books

  Kensington Publishing Corp.

  http://www.pinnaclebooks.com

  BACK BY POPULAR DEMAND

  William W. Johnstone's Classic Horror Favorites:

  CAT'S EYE

  CAT'S CRADLE

  THE DEVIL'S CAT

  THE DEVIL'S KISS

  THE DEVIL'S TOUCH

  THE DEVIL'S HEART

  Available now wherever books are sold.

  All the characters in this book are fictitious, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

  PINNACLE BOOKS are published by

  Kensington Publishing Corp.

  850 Third Avenue

  New York, NY 10022

  Copyright © 1984 by William W. Johnstone

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.

  If you purchased this book without a cover you should be aware that this book is stolen property. It was reported as "unsold and destroyed" to the Publisher and neither the Author nor the Publisher has received any payment for this "stripped book."

  Pinnacle and the P logo Reg. U.S. Pat. & TM Off.

  First Printing: December, 1984

  10 9 8 7 6 5

  Printed in the United States of America

  To Charles and Bobbi

  The prayer for exorcism and the ritual was taken, in part, from Montague Summer's History of Witchcraft and Demonology, published by Routledge and Kegan Paul LTD, London.

  Every sound shall end in silence, but the silence never dies.

  -Samuel Miller Hageman

  But screw your courage to the sticking place, and we'll not fail.

  -William Shakespeare

  Table of Contents

  Prologue

  Book One

  ONE

  TWO

  THREE

  FOUR

  FIVE

  SIX

  SEVEN

  EIGHT

  NINE

  Book Two

  ONE

  TWO

  THREE

  FOUR

  FIVE

  SIX

  SEVEN

  EIGHT

  NINE

  Book Three

  ONE

  TWO

  THREE

  FOUR

  FIVE

  SIX

  Epilogue

  ON THE ORDERS OF THE DARK ONE

  She knelt in the center of the circle drawn on the floor. The circle was drawn with yellow chalk. She was careful that one bare knee was placed on the symbol denoting La Maison De Dieu, the past, and her other bare knee on the symbol denoting La Lune, the future. The symbols were widely separated and she was forced to spread her thighs far apart. She was naked.

  The candles in the huge room flickered, casting long yellow shadows around the room, darkly illuminating the circle of men and women surrounding the girl in the yellow circle. A lone flute, played by a young man wearing a black hooded robe cast its lonely sounds, the notes fluttering almost passively through the room.

  The scene was soon to become anything but passive.

  Kitty Carrier kept her eyes downcast as she had been instructed by the Coven leader. She knew what was next in store for her. Sweat beaded her face and began trickling down between her breasts at the thought.

  "Renaissance," a man spoke from the darkness outside the circle.

  It was time for Kitty's rebirth.

  A rubber penis was placed in the circle, the lifelike dildo covered with drawings of many colors. Just under the flared head was a drawing depicting the fifteenth card of the major arcana of the tarot: Le Diable. The Devil faced upward, just under the flared head of the rubber penis. When the Devil is positioned thusly, the picture denotes bondage; subordination; suffering; shock; ravage; violence; self-punishment.

  Renaissance. Rebirth. A time for renouncing one God and choosing another. When the picture of the Devil is placed upside down, only then can a person be freed. But if marriage has already occurred, no divorce is possible. For when one marries Satan, the contract is final.

  "Let it commence," the man again spoke from the darkness. "She is ready."

  The young woman's fingers found the rubber of the garishly painted penis. She lifted it. Her hand trembled at its weight and bulk.

  Kitty was sixteen.

  She was a virgin.

  The music from the flute stopped in mid-note.

  Outside the drape-darkened windows of the huge house, black clouds rolled overhead, obscuring any light from God's moon. The misshapen forms of nonhuman things began to emerge from the ground, to dance obscenely under the whispering winds and the dark clouds. The grotesque creatures were known as Beasts—the Devil's spawn. They were as old as evil and older than man is known today. The Beasts were mistakes in the scheme of living things. Failures that Satan chose for his own. They are found all over the world; wherever there is a coven that worships the Prince of Darkness, the Lord of Flies or the King of Filth.

  Satan.

  The Beasts began growling with pleasure as the screams of the young woman penetrated the wood and glass and cloth and stone of the mansion as the rubber penis denoting the Dark One's organ penetrated her.

  Blood began streaking her thighs, and her screams became shrieks of agony as the penis tore its way into her.

  Kitty hunched on the floor and wailed. "It's cold! It's cold!"

  Within her wet warmth, the penis came alive as the men and women of the coven chanted to the Prince of Darkness.

  The Beasts, now freed after a two year sleep under the blanket of earth, danced and growled and snapped their fanged animal jaws, flinging their hairy arms and prancing about on bent legs and cloven-hooved feet. Slobber drooled and dripped from the jaws in stinking ropes.

  "Take this girl!" the coven leader shouted, his voice rising over the chantings of the worshippers of the black marriage. "She longs to be free from the chains of the Christian God and to drink the wine of the Prince of Darkness."

  The coven members began stamping their bare feet on the floor. The room began to stink of sulphur.

  Kitty pushed the devil's organ deeper; steam rose from between her legs as heat met cold. Sweat bathed her and her hair became damp and limp. Her eyes were glazed from pain and the extreme changes in body temperature. She groaned and then screamed out.

  T
he black candles dripped hot wax as Kitty pushed the cold organ to its full length. She collapsed on her bare back, her legs spread obscenely wide, her knees bent, her feet flat on the floor. The wide base of the cold rubber covered her pubic area.

  It was time for the marriage. An unholy uniting. A mating and marriage between Kitty and the Devil. A dirty covering of tattered lace was spread over Kitty, covering all but her face. The coven leader knelt down, holding a dirty goblet to the girl's lips. He ordered her to drink. The goblet was emptied of its content: semen collected from the coven hierarchy. Working his hand under the filthy, ragged lace covering, the leader worked the organ in and out, bringing grunts of pain from the girl. He removed the Devil's organ and laid it aside. Kitty moaned as the pain left her.

  "Do you renounce your parents, all blood relations, all friends not of this unholy coven, God, Jesus Christ, the Holy Ghost, the Saints, and the Holy Cross?" he asked the young girl.

  "Yes," she gasped.

  "You are firm in your conviction that God no longer lives within you and from this moment on He never shall?"

  "Yes."

  "You will serve me as you will serve the Prince, recognizing that I act in his place within this body of men and women known forever more as the coven?" She nodded her head.

  He removed the tattered lace, spread the girl's legs, and mounted her, thrusting into her brutally. She cried out, not in pain, but crying out her love for Satan.

  After the leader had finished with her, Kitty was then taken by all the males present.

  The leader then squatted down and Kitty pressed her lips to his ass. The marriage was sealed.

  "You are now one of us and one with us," Kitty was told. "And thus it will always be." He turned to a group of black-robed women. "Clean her and bath her in sweet oils. Prepare her for the meeting with the daughter of the Devil."

  Kitty was pulled to her feet. Blood and semen stained her inner thighs. She was taken from the room. She was so sore she could hardly walk.

  A man padded to the leader's side. "The Princess is here."

  Frank Gilbert, leader of the Logandale, New York coven, and professor of history at Nelson College smiled. "Prepare the coven to meet our Princess, daughter of our Master."

  "At once."

  The Beasts had ceased their prancing and dancing and howling. They turned their hideous faces to the sky. The sky grew darker. The winds picked up, bringing with them a foulness, as if the wind had snaked its way out of the burning bowels of Hell.

  It had.

  BOOK ONE

  ONE

  Every male head in the classroom turned at the young lady's entrance. And every male present had but one thought: what they would give to spread the legs of the girl and gently take her. Every male in the room would give almost anything for the opportunity to spend just one night with her.

  Every male but one: Sam Balon.

  Sam had dropped the name of his adopted father, King, choosing to take his real father's name, Balon. Sam Balon, Sr. had been a minister, pastor of a church in Whitfield, Nebraska back in the late fifties. Young Sam had learned the story—the true story of what had happened in Whitfield—when he had been forced to face the Devil in actual combat. It was there he had met Nydia, and married her, performing the ceremony himself, just as his father had done with Jane Ann, and a son had been created. And just like the father, the son had been forced into combat with Satan, ultimately destroying a coven at Falcon House, in the wilds of Canada. (The Devil's Heart)

  And Sam was truly in love with his wife, Nydia, and loved his young son, Sam, Jr., now approaching his third year. The child appeared normal in all respects . . . but both mother and father still harbored lingering doubts about the child.

  For it was more than conceivable the child was a spawn of the Devil.

  But so far, so good.

  Both Nydia and Sam now felt the Devil had ceased in his pursuit of them. Perhaps the Dark One had found more easily attainable prey. They hoped so.

  Sam looked at the beautiful young woman who had just entered the classroom of Professor Gilbert. She was accompanied by Professor Edie Cash. Obviously, the young woman was of some special importance to be treated in such a manner. No doubt about it, Sam thought, she is a very lovely woman.

  Sam caught the eyes of Xaviere Flaubert, a lovely young lady from Montreal. She smiled at him and rolled her eyes, pointing at the young men all fascinated by the newcomer. Sam grinned at her and winked. They were good friends, Sam, Nydia, and Xaviere, socializing often. Sam looked back at the newcomer.

  The young woman wore her hair long, a dark, rich brown that tumbled down to the center of her back. She was tall, with a magnificent figure. Her complexion was flawless. Full lips and very pale gray eyes. Sam thought she and Xaviere looked a lot alike. The pale eyes shifted, and for a moment, lingered on Sam. The young woman smiled at him, and Sam returned the smile. He looked around at Xaviere. The two young women did resemble each other. Same pale eyes, brown hair, tall, and both had great figures.

  Professor Cash left the room and Professor Gilbert tapped a pencil on his desk. "Class, I would like to introduce our new arrival. This is Miss Desiree Lemieux. She has just transferred in from Paris. Her parents have purchased Fox Estate and she has come Sam thought Professor Gilbert was going to fall all over himself. That he was quite taken with the young woman was obvious.

  "Oh. my," Gilbert said. "We're all going to have to brush up on our French, I see."

  The young men in the room all shared the same thought: They would like to brush up against Desiree.

  "My English is quite good, Professor," she replied, in a voice that touched the groin of every male.

  Again, those pale eyes touched Sam, then quickly dropped away.

  "Yes, you certainly do, Desiree," the professor agreed. "Well, why don't you sit—umm—right over there, next to Mr. Balon, and we'll open class."

  "Is she as beautiful as everyone says she is?" Nydia asked him.

  Sam, Nydia, and Little Sam lived several miles outside of Logandale, about five miles from the center of Nelson campus. Nelson, one of the most expensive private colleges in North America, would have been financially unattainable for Sam had not his father set aside insurance money for his—at that time unborn—offspring. Nydia, who had been attending Carrington College before she met Sam, had transferred to Nelson after their marriage. For Nydia, money was no obstacle, for she was an extremely wealthy young woman, having inherited all of Roma and Falcon's holdings, worldwide, at their death. At the hands of Sam.

  Nydia's mother and stepfather had been witch and warlock. Her true father was Sam Balon. Sam and Nydia were half brother and half sister. But they had been forgiven for that and allowed to live as man and wife. Forgiven by the One who has the power to forgive any sin.

  "Yes, she is," Sam replied.

  "Oh?" Nydia turned dark blue eyes to her husband. "Better looking than someone I might name?" she teased him.

  "Well, now." Sam looked up from the research he was doing on ancient civilizations. His eyes sparkled with mischief. "Let me think. Umm? Desiree is—"

  "Oh?" Nydia interrupted. "My. With a name like that, she would have to be lovely."

  "Oh, she is! 'Bout this tall." He held up a hand. Then, using both hands, formed an hourglass shape.

  "Really?" Nydia stepped closer to her husband. "How interesting."

  "Perfection," Sam said, not realizing he was about to take the game past the foul line. He opened his hands and made a squeezing gesture. "'Bout like that, I'd say."

  "Big boobs, huh?" There was a flatness to her tone that Sam failed to catch.

  Sam rolled his eyes.

  Nydia took his hands in hers and pressed them to her own breasts. "About that size, Sam?"

  The dim light of realization clicked on in Sam's brain. Struggling mentally to get his foot out of his mouth, Sam said, "I would say there is only one person I've seen that is more beautiful than Desiree."

  Warning signals fl
ashed dangerously hot in Nydia's eyes. "Oh? And who might that be—dear?"

  Sam looked up into her eyes and grinned. "Why— you, Nydia."

  The warning lights dimmed, then cut off. "Almost swallowed both feet, didn't you, darling?" she said with a smile.

  He closed his textbook and pulled her onto his lap. "I did come close." He kissed her. "But I'm only a man, remember?"

  "I'll keep that in mind. What did Xaviere have to say about the new girl in class?"

  "She thought the boys' behavior very funny."

  Nydia unbuttoned his shirt and tugged at the hair on his chest. "Since Little Sam is with Janet, at her house … why don't we mess around some?"

  "Got anything special in mind?"

  She whispered in his ear.

  "My pleasure," Sam said.

  "Is the child one of ours?" Professor Gilbert asked, looking at Little Sam but speaking to the group of men and women gathered at the Sakall home.

  "1 cannot tell," the daughter of Satan said, straightening up after her examination of the child. She brushed back her long brown hair. "There appear to be no birthmarks denoting which side of the lineage takes precedent."

  Janet Sakall sat in a chair, a pout on her pretty face. She was rapidly blooming into full womanhood. Now in her fifteenth year, the young witch looked older than her years. She was quite pretty, with auburn hair, a shapely body, and fully developed breasts. Her eyes were pure evil. She licked her full lips, her tongue flicking over teeth that could become fanged at the blink of an eyelid.

  Janet met the stare of the daughter of Satan without flinching. "Why are we waiting?" she asked. "We could take them any time."