Darkborn by Matthew Costello

G.I.’s until some sumo-sized monster with a machete entered the room to cut their wangs off.
    Tim liked those kinds of stories.
    And, Will admitted, it was fun hearing him tell them.
    “Yeah, so the priest had his way with the virgin. And when she was deflowered, she was sealed up in the wall, in the very bricks of the cathedral .   .   .”
    “Like the Cask of Amontillado,” Narrio said.
    “Very good,” Tim said good-naturedly. “Go to the head of the class.”
    Will cleared his throat. “Dead?”
    “What?”
    “The girl .   .   . she was sealed up dead?”
    Tim shook his head.
    “No, bozo, alive, of course. That was the whole point. She had her mouth covered —”
    “How?” Narrio asked, no longer smiling.
    Tim grinned. “Some were gagged .   .   . but some had their mouths sewn up.”
    “God,” Narrio said.
    Another stop, and Tim waited while the car whistled and wheezed.
    “Almost there, boys and girls,” Whalen said.
    “But why?” Will asked. “What was the point?”
    Tim shrugged. “Who knows? Part of the deal with the devil. I guess it has to do with all that god-awful terror, all that fucking fear. You know, just getting diddled by some fat old priest is bad enough. But, man! Being buried alive in a church? Somehow, the virgin’s fear must have made the black magic work .   .   .”
    Now Whalen leaned close.
    “You know, I read something like that …”
    Will had the image in his mind-effectively conjured by Tim. He saw the priest fitting the last brick into the wall, closing the small chamber where the young girl — probably no older than those schoolgirls sitting at the other end of the train — writhed in her chair.
    And she probably tried to scream .   .   . and only tears came.
    “Yeah,” Whalen said. “There’s an old town in Denmark that was attacked by Vikings or somebody. I don’t remember. And when they stormed the town, climbing over the walls of the fortress town, they discovered that the wall was filled with bodies, young boys and girls —”
    “Nice,” Will said, starting to feel a bit woozy.
    “Every year the town added a body. It was the same kind of thing, some deal they had with the dark forces .”
    “I guess it didn’t work,” Tim said.
    Whalen shrugged. “Maybe they stopped doing it. I dunno.” Then he laughed. “It’s like a mortgage. Once you get involved in the deal, you have to keep it up.”
    Then why the hell are we doing this? Will thought.
    But he knew the answer to that.
    Because we don’t believe any of this crap. And this is how we show we’re above it all. Above religion. Above superstition.
    Like taking a dare.
    The train stopped again. The schoolgirls got up and left. But not before the less homely one turned and looked back at them.
    She smiled. Interested.
    “Forget it, sister,” Tim muttered to them.
    They all laughed.
    The girls left.
    “We switch next stop,” Tim said. “We gotta take the Coney Island el for two stops, and then we meet Kiff.”
    “If he’s there,” Will said. “If he doesn’t have too many loose wires.”
    “Fuck it. He’ll be there, Will. Don’t worry about it.” Narrio was still crouched forward, as if Tim or Whalen were still telling spooky stories around the old campfire.
    He said something.
    “They did this stuff, with the virgins and everything” — Narrio paused —”to make the magic work?”
    “Yeah,” Tim said. “Sure.”
    Narrio nodded. “They were like — what? Sacrifices?”
    “Right, Narrio,” Whalen snapped. “My, aren’t we sharp today?”
    Narrio grinned. A bit. There had been too much fun and laughing for him to deflate entirely. But Narrio’s face clouded over again. Will watched him, curious, wondering what he was going to say.
    “Well, we’re doing the same thing. Right? We’re going to try and summon a spirit, right?”
    “Getting nervous, Mikey?” Whalen scoffed.
    And for once, Will appreciated Whalen’s tone. This was all for grins, okay? thought