The Banshee by Henry P. Gravelle

Wicca is mother, maiden, and crone. I would venture that Isabel would surely be the crone. The rest I could not name,” the priest added.
    â€œThey are important?” Carl asked.
    â€œThe ring leaders,” Murphy assumed.
    Father Ahern nodded silently in agreement. Carl asked another question. “You say we can destroy this Banshee and her friend?”
    â€œYes, but you have to remember to fight the Banshee is to confront Satan himself,” Father Ahern stated.
    â€œAt some point we still have to contend with the worshippers and their leaders,” stated Murphy, “and where do we find them?”
    â€œThey’re hiding behind a mask of god fearing, hard working citizens but actually have unspeakable evil within their hearts. Your lovely Colleen succumbed to their need for a vehicle allowing the return of Isabel.”
    The Chief, Carl and David sat quietly listening as Father Ahern revealed the state of evil within the town. They were stunned. David’s theory was correct but he wished there was another answer to the horror that had returned to Wexford.
    â€œI’ll inform Keith about all this, but no one else should know,” warned Murphy. “We can begin our hunt in the morning.”
    â€œWell that’s that,” Father Ahern stood. “I won’t be able to join you but please keep me posted of your progress.”
    â€œGood night, Father,” everyone said in unison.
    David headed for the door behind Father Ahern. “I’m off to Kelly’s, I need a drink.”
    â€œRemember, keep this quiet,” Murphy called out before the door closed.
    â€œHe’s a good kid,” Carl said walking to the kitchen. Murphy went to the photos on the mantel.
    â€œAre these David’s parents in the photo?”
    Murphy heard Carl sigh. “Yes, unfortunately both are deceased. I’m sure they would be proud of that boy, although I don’t know where he cooked up an idea like this Banshee thing.”
    â€œI’m glad he did. I saw that beast and if David had not put this together I never would have known what was going on, or if I had any sanity left.”
    â€œYou need to rest, Chief, and since you’re already comfy on the sofa, why not stay right where you are tonight? It’s getting late, the medication I gave you is working and I’m sure you want an early start in the morning,” Carl suggested.
    â€œYou read my mind, thanks,” Murphy said.
    Carl locked the front door and switched off the lamp.
    â€œGood night,” he said, making his way across the dimly lit room to the stairway. No answer, Murphy was already asleep.

    * * * *

    When he heard the noise, Murphy could not comprehend the direction it came from. His eyes fluttered open when the sound came again. He tried to observe the room by the meager moonlight that filtered through the bay window. Perhaps it was the doctor or David.
    He wished he knew the time, but his watch was across the room by the door. He had no desire to leave the comfort of the sofa but curiosity got the better of him. Tossing the blanket aside, he stood, allowing his legs to stretch and blood to circulate. He moved toward the table then the noise came again.
    Its sudden nearness, only feet away, caused him to bump the table sending the watch to the floor. Again it came, ripping across the door. He moved back to the sofa and heard the dog-like howl of the Banshee.
    â€œGoddamn, it’s here,” he said loudly.
    The sound intensified as the familiar ripped into the heavy wood. Murphy looked about the room for a weapon and noticed the rifle under the boar’s head. He raced to it then stopped. The boar’s head was moving, trying to wriggle free of the wall. Murphy’s heart pounded. The head watched him, twisting its large tusks back and forth, sucking in air for lungs that did not exist.
    The boar’s head continued its attempt to escape from the wall and join the attack on