Crimson Harvest

By Thom Mollohan

Could there be more than meets the eye in the handsome and charming Gage who has won over Heather's friend, Jillian?

Sixteen-year-old Heather is a girl who just wants to fit in and have fun. But one night of breaking the rules sets into motion a terrifying series of events that launches her into a mystery that has at its heart an ancient evil.

Pulled into a world of darkness and fear that will nearly destroy her, her family, and her faith, can light yet overcome the darkness?

What people are saying about Crimson Harvest:

"Wow... Expertly written."

"Crimson Harvest is a fascinating work...."

"The plot is well thought out and riveting dialogue sets the scene...."

"This is a powerful read."

"... A very well-written book... does a great job of developing characters and plot into a highly intriguing and suspenseful account of how one family's faith is able to overcome a very powerful evil.... This is a page-turner with a very strong message about the power of the Christian faith in overcoming evil. The reader will feel the pain, the doubt, the strengthening and the transformation of each of the characters as they work their way through this extraordinary nightmare... a very well-crafted and believable story." - Bil Howard for Readers' Favorite

• Language: English
• Publisher: Thom Mollohan
• Release date: Aug 28, 2013
• ISBN: 9781462689552

Thom Mollohan

Thom Mollohan is an author, speaker, writer, teacher, pastor, former campus minister, and formerly a church planter. What he is especially proud of being is a father to four awesome kids and a husband to an amazing woman! What he is most unworthy of being called is that of child and servant of God (Ephesians 3:8).Thom is the author of THE FAIRY TALE PARABLES (Classic Fairy Tales Pointing to God's Love and Truth), CRIMSON HARVEST (a Christian thriller novel on the power of God's grace to overcome darkness), and A HEART AT HOME WITH GOD (a collection of "kingdom of God lessons" learned in the context of family life).

Book preview

Crimson Harvest

By Thom Mollohan

Copyright 2011 by Thom Mollohan

Digital Edition

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

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

Scripture quotations are from the ESV (The Holy Bible, English Standard Version), Copyright Crossway 2001. 2011 Text Edition. All rights reserved.

CONTENTS

1 An Introduction to Darkness

2 A Place Called Home

3 A Call from the Shadows

4 Altar or the Door

5 A Friendly Intervention

6 A Visit from Evil

7 Returning Home

8 Grounds for Fear

9 Nowhere to Stand

10 Vanishing Hope

11 Lost in Shadows

12 A Thorn in the Side

13 Cry of the Forsaken

14 Glimmer of Hope

15 Nightfall

16 In the House of Roderick Osirion

17 Despair like a Dagger

18 Rescued

19 Reckoning

20 Grace and Redemption

Chapter One

An Introduction to Darkness

Heather slammed the door of the small Ford Focus that belonged to Jillian's mother and hurriedly followed her friend towards the club. Although she and Jillian were very much underage, their new friend, Gage, knew the guy at the door of the hottest club in town and had promised them more fun than they had ever had before. That promise, along with Jillian's incessant wheedling, wore down her moral objections, which, Jillian frequently claimed, were nothing more than baggage from her overly restrictive parents.

So, dressed like her new friends, Heather now had to dismiss the standards to which she had previously held herself in the areas of modesty in her clothing and of honesty in her relationship with her parents. Striving to push from her mind the guilty feeling that surfaced in her conscience when she had peeled off her outer sweater right before they had parked, she tried not to think about what her parents would have said could they have seen what their daughter was now wearing (or not wearing enough of as the case may be). After all, her adult style of dressing, she carefully explained to herself, plus her heavily made-up face, was necessary to pave the way for them to get past the scrutiny of the door man. Her flimsy, yellow halter top that left her back bare and the glittering black tube top that Jillian wore would have been scandalous at school, not to mention at home or at church, but they were very much in keeping with the attire of other girls who were also approaching the club from other directions.

Heather and Jillian trotted down the sidewalk and could see that a huge crowd was already assembled on the sidewalk in front of the broad entrance of The Harvest Club. They came to a halt about a dozen feet from the line of people, their eyes drinking in the sight before them. On the sign above the doorway gleamed a neon-red farmer’s sickle with the arc of its blade extending until it formed an entire circle with the words The Harvest Club in its center glowing in eerie contrast to the surrounding yellow streetlights.

A large doorman wearing black sunglasses was perched on a stool by the doors, stoically observing those who entered. When would-be partiers neared, he would peer at the extended ID and then at its holder's face. On a few occasions, although a young man or woman flashed a driver’s license in front of him, he would give a shake of his head and scowl until the person turned and dejectedly walked away. After this had happened a couple of times, Heather and Jillian exchanged nervous glances. Heather raised an eyebrow and pursed her lips. Maybe this isn’t such a good idea, she attempted to say through her expression. Jillian just shrugged and looked away, avoiding her gaze for the time being.

As they stood there, a figure detached itself from the enthusiastic crowd and joined them. An abundance of bright floodlights lining the building plus the streetlights along the sidewalk illuminated the person approaching so that they quickly recognized him.

Hey, Gage! Jillian called, smiling broadly, her fine brown hair fanning out as she threw her arms around the young man's neck. They had met Gage at a friend’s party, introduced by Jillian’s brother, Rich. Gage had taken an interest in Jillian especially, although he was very friendly towards Heather, also (too friendly, Heather had thought on more than one occasion).

Hi, honey, he crooned into Jillian’s ear. He glanced over at Heather. You guys feel like dancing?

Heather smiled nervously. I do! she answered. She shot a furtive glance at the doors. You’re sure he’ll let us in?

Yeah, Gage nodded. Just get your IDs out and act natural. They did as instructed and stood in line with him in front of them, while Heather gripped her license tightly in her hand, sweating although the air was cool. For the next few minutes, they crept along in the line, feeling as though they would never get there, Heather half hoping that they would be turned away once they did. But they finally did arrive at the door, dance music blasting through it so loudly that Heather could feel the handrail vibrating as she stood on the step just behind Jillian.

Hi, Max, said Gage to the doorman. Gage spoke into Max’s ear while Max smiled slightly as he glanced at the girls. Gage stepped past, half turning to watch them. Jillian held her license up in front of the burly man, who glanced at it and nodded. Heather imitated Jillian and got the same result.

Just watch yer steps, girls, the man murmured to them as they walked past. Heather nodded vaguely as she slipped past and stepped into the dimly lit building. Blue lights provided the illumination as they entered, but they gradually faded to red and then back again. They momentarily reminded her of police lights.

The Harvest Club had once been a warehouse but had recently been drastically renovated. The main dance floor itself was the size of a basketball court, open to the ceiling three stories above. There were three levels that encircled the dance floor, each with a bar, its own assortment of servers, and hordes of people crowded around tables, talking, dancing, or drinking. There were clusters of guys and girls in vague places and frequent pockets of couples who, perhaps under the influence of alcohol, were amorously entangled with one another.

Heather struggled with a surge of nausea, as a weight of guilt pulled at her stomach. Her various deceptions and a fear of being caught made her feel dirty and cheap. She forced from her mind the thought of how many lies she had told her parents to get here and tried to think about how much fun she was going to have. After all, what harm could it do to sneak into a dance club just this once?

She supposed that she was now a little obligated to Gage for his having gotten them in and so followed him closely along with Jillian, nervously drinking in the sights and sounds that bombarded her. Gage led them up one of the broad stairwells to the level above and then up another to the top floor. People, most of them obviously drunk, were crowded onto the stairs, either shouting into one another’s ears, trying to be heard over the blasting music or trying to weave their way past streams of other people moving in the opposite direction.

The hypnotic pattern of lights alternating between blue and red was occasionally broken by brief flashes of other colors, yellow, green, purple, or orange, in rhythm with wilder parts of some of the music numbers.

Little by little, Heather lost herself to the music, the lights, and the anticipation of a night that she would never forget. She soon forgot about her lies; she no longer worried about her parents' potential disappointment in her. Her mind was too busy swirling with music and sensations that symbolized the freedom and fun to which she suddenly felt entitled. A thrill ran through her as she shrugged off her inhibitions and reservations as if they were manacles that had suddenly been unlocked.

Gage spotted a group leaving and led the girls to the dark booth that they had been occupying. I always stake out my turf before I dance, Gage shouted to them, barely heard over the music. He slid onto the seat and motioned Jillian beside him. Heather sat beside her friend and looked around. Her eyes fastened onto Gage’s handsome face, and she noted how friendly and even charming he seemed. She considered herself smart enough to know that she should be on guard. After all, both she and Jillian had had plenty of guys hit on them, many of them seemingly sincere in their affections. But she had always been taught that she had been created for God’s special purposes and should diligently guard her character and her virtue. She reminded herself that, no matter what happened or how nice a guy might seem, she was saving herself for marriage and that the man God had in mind for her would wait until their wedding. This surge of principle within her triggered her to consider Gage a bit more closely and his intentions towards Jillian.

But his face was so handsome, and he seemed so genuine. Maybe the atmosphere of the club was so overwhelmingly exciting that she didn’t need any alcohol to begin feeling intoxicated. Gage was speaking into Jillian’s ear, and she laughed. Then his eyes met Heather’s. For a moment, she thought that there seemed a strange look of hunger in them, as if lust or something like it were just barely being contained. Then his eyes crinkled up jovially, and he winked at her. Heather shifted uncomfortably in her seat.

At that moment, a server came by and wiped their table clean. Hi, Gage, she said demurely.

Hi, René, he replied. Having a good one so far?

I’ve had better tips, she answered with a shrug of her shoulders.

Gage laughed. The night’s still young. In the meantime, would you mind bringing me and my friends each a house beer?

Sure, René said with a nod. She left with their order, and Gage looked at the girls. It’ll help loosen us up for the dance floor, he explained. Heather had never drunk alcohol before. She was reluctant to start now. She was not only underage, but had grown up with counsel from her parents and church family that it was a doorway to a plethora of other unwise, unwholesome, and unholy life choices. She realized that her presence there was a mass of contradictions and compromises. A voice seemed to whisper inside her mind, You don’t belong here. But she pushed away the prodding that she should get up and leave immediately.

I’ve already opened the doorway, she thought to herself. And it won’t hurt this one time.

Then Gage slipped an arm around Jillian and made jokes until Jillian was laughing so hard that tears were running down her cheeks and Heather had forgotten what it was she had been thinking.

When their drinks arrived a few minutes later, Jillian gasped and slid down in her seat. Her eyes were fastened on a man standing behind René as René set their beer bottles down onto the table and scooped up Gage’s money. The brown-haired young man stood there silently until the server left and then scooted into a seat beside Heather, forcing her over until she was pushed up tightly against Jillian's side.

You guys shouldn’t be here, he said. His arm was touching Heather’s shoulder, and she could feel him trembling. She looked at his face as he gazed at Jillian, his sister. He was as pale as a ghost.

Just what a big brother is supposed to say, Rich, Gage laughed, but he removed his arm from around Jillian. Heather thought that she might have glimpsed something menacing in his otherwise friendly face.

They shouldn’t be here, Gage, Rich said slowly and emphatically, his eyes shifting from Jillian to Gage’s face. Jillian and Heather exchanged looks out of the corner of their eyes, each obviously wondering what would happen and if he would make them leave.

What did you expect, Rich, when you introduced me to your sister? That I just hang out with all the little kids? Besides, Jillian and Heather are big girls. I mean, just look at them. Rich’s eyes didn’t leave Gage’s face, but an angry red washed over his face.

I should never have introduced them to you, he said heatedly. They don’t know what you are.

They don’t know what I am, Gage echoed mockingly. He glanced at Jillian. He says that like I’m some kind of monster or something. He laughed and shrugged. All right. But is it all right with you if I finish my drink? And can’t your sister have at least one dance before she leaves? You owe that at least to m... to her. His eyes flickered a moment to Heather’s face. Had he started to say, You owe that at least to me? Heather’s stomach was churning.

Rich hesitated a moment as if weighing carefully Gage’s words. Okay. But then they leave.

Gage smiled. Good enough. He took his bottle in his hand, sipped from it, and then pushed it away. He stood up, tugging at Jillian’s wrist. Do you still want to dance? he asked. Jillian looked at neither Heather nor Rich but nodded her head and followed Gage out of the booth. They disappeared into the crowd, heading in the direction of the stairs. Heather’s eyes, gazing after them, shifted to Gage’s beer bottle, then to Rich.

Rich closed his eyes and slumped backward. He’s a bad guy, Heather, he said, his eyes still closed.

Heather looked down at her own bottle, turning it slowly in her hand. She hadn’t drunk from it and realized that she didn’t really want it. She suddenly wondered what she was doing there. You’re not going to tell my parents, are you? she asked, her voice trembling. Rich opened his eyes and turned his face towards her. His eyes, bloodshot and tortured, gazed into hers.

A real friend would, he said. Then he sighed. But I won’t. Just promise me to stay away from Gage and stay out of this place.

Why? I mean, why stay away from Gage?

Rich didn’t answer. He stared blankly into the air and said, I should never, ever have introduced you guys to him. He stood up abruptly, walked over to the rail, and stared down at the dance floor. Heather sat still for a moment but after a moment joined him.

I don’t see her, he muttered. He continued searching for her, scanning the crowd two stories below, his agitation obviously growing the longer he looked.

Rich groaned. Oh, no, no, no. He turned from the rail and began pushing his way towards the bar. Bewildered, Heather followed him. She could not understand what had made Rich so afraid. But neither could she ignore the growing suspicion that he might actually have good reason. A seed of fear germinated in her heart as she squeezed her way through the crowd behind him. He caught up with René, the server, and caught her elbow.

Did you see where Gage and my sister went? he asked. She motioned that she did not hear what he had asked. He leaned closer to her ear and shouted, Do you know where Gage went? René nodded and motioned to the dimly lit hall near the landing of the stairwell.

They went towards the meeting rooms, she answered. Just go past the restrooms; there are four meeting rooms, two on each side, just before the fire exit. Rich nodded and quickly made his way towards them. Heather darted after him, the feel of fear growing inside her.

Rich made his way towards the hallway and disappeared from Heather’s view. She rounded the corner and nearly tripped on a girl who was kneeling on the floor, throwing up. Heather sidestepped her, slipped past others leaving the ladies’ room, and followed the dark figure moving down the hall, just before it made another turn.

She peeked around the corner and could see that it was Rich. He was moving down the right side of the otherwise empty hallway. He came to a door on the left and tried the knob. It evidently was locked. She could hear him speaking angrily to himself as he pounded on the door, the sound nothing more than a faint, dull thud. He turned to the door opposite it and repeated his procedure. It was locked, also.

He hurried on down towards the next door on the right. As he did, Heather made her way down the hallway as well. Rich came to the last door on the right, turned the knob, and found it open. He disappeared inside as she came to the end of the hall.

Heather stood a moment, staring at the door through which he had disappeared. But the sound of a soft, muffled cry quickly fading to silence disturbed her thoughts. It seemed to come from the door on the left. She slowly stepped up to it and realized that the door was not even quite closed. She lightly pressed against it, and a glow of soft light from the slight crack appeared. She pressed her eye up close to the crack and peered into the room.

It took a moment for her eyes to absorb what was unfolding in front of her. There were two people . . . a couple. They’re making out, she thought and started to turn away in embarrassment. But just as she was about to pull away, the guy lifted his head, and she could see his face clearly. It was Gage . . . at least it looked like Gage’s face, but it was somehow horribly distorted, stretched long as if to accommodate an elongated jaw line. The half-closed eyes suddenly opened wide in fiendish delight; they were coal black, yet glinting a pale yellow light. His mouth was open; but in the place of teeth, there were spikelike fangs glistening in the dim light. A trickle of blood ran down his chin.

In his arms lay Heather’s friend, Jillian, her eyes glazed over and unblinking, her mouth open in a frozen look of surprise. She seemed as white as a blank sheet of paper except for an