Morning Star Full Novel

Chapter 5

July 2, 1969

Viola Mae Johnson’s home was clutter of photographs, trinkets and various other odd decorative items. They were her memories of a lifetime swept up into boxes and disposed of into the back of an awaiting van. The pile grew, as her possessions were tosses aside, broken and discarded like common trash.
It was well past midnight and the house was a buzz with a diverse crew of workers emptying the house as fast as they were able. The lights were on and sounds reverberated from the house but no one was listening. Not really. The neighbors knew what was going on. Many were participating in the work. It was a cleaning, the duty of the members to eradicate any sign of their presence to the outside world.
The majority of the town’s folk were members, but not all. Some long-standing residents of the town were unaware of the membership, unaware of the underlying motives of the people in the community. It was a secret society of like-minded people with a common understanding; God and religion that made up the membership. The membership of the church.
This neighborhood was all church. All except for Viola Mae Johnson who moved here in 1942 with her husband Richard and son Dennis. The cleaning crew was a committee referred to as the "Sword", who’s sole purpose is to erase any signs of the church.
This was a job they had not done often, only a dozen or so times since the church was founded in Denton Kansas in 1932. The church, a secret society for the preservation of Lucifer, depended on anonymity to insure its survival. A good one fourth of the town was not church, but a strict code of silence and secrecy insured the church would not be discovered.
New members were carefully cultivated and absorbed through a process of teachings. The teachings were harmlessly spread through the missionary work of young members, deceiving the public, disguised as Christian missionaries. Potential new members were interviewed, questioned and then evaluated to see if they would be good candidates for membership. Those who showed an interest were asked to pray, and join the church, slowly being introduced to the true purpose and nature of the church. No one quit. No one had to.
The official name of the church was "The Children of the Morning Star." Morning Star, being the true interpretation of the name of Lucifer, the beautiful light bearing angel whom was cast from heaven. The church resembled any other church in town. They had a large Gothic style building in the center of town topped off with a cross and many stained glass windows portraying scenes from the bible. To all that passed by it was a Christian church, no different than any other church they would see in any town.
The only difference being the building was a front only used to deceive the rest of the town. Cars lined the streets near the church every Sunday, but no service was held inside. Services were held in a special place out in the country under the stars. Every Saturday evening, the church members would gather at the church building and park their cars along the streets. The members would then car pool together leaving as many empty cars in front of the church as possible. The next day the church would appear to be filled with parishioners, but the church would remain empty. Ushers kept strangers out of the building.
Brother Follett and Brother Thomas stacked boxes on a two-wheel dolly for the others to roll outside to the awaiting trucks. The men filled and stacked boxes repeatedly keeping focused on the task at hand, refraining from wasteful conversation.
"Brother Follett! Brother Thomas!" shouted a faint voice from the basement below. The two men ran to the stairwell and stopped at the open door.
"What is it?" Follett shouted down the staircase into the dark.
"Come quickly!" the voice replied, and the two men scrambled down the steps as fast as they could. At the bottom they turned only to be blinded by a single sixty-watt bulb next to the breaker box in the electrical room.
"Where are you?" Thomas asked, looking around for the source of the voice.
"Over here in the furnace room!" the voice shouted.
The men followed the sound around the corner then stopped in their tracks. Holding a flashlight, Brother Davis shined a beam of light into a small dark room illuminating a naked young man cowering in the corner. Around the mans neck was a collar of iron, welded shut with a chain attached to it leading to an iron pipe sticking out of the cement in the center of the floor. The room smelled of rotted food and feces. The walls were cracked and mildewed, stained with dark streaks running from ceiling to floor.
The man did not speak. He looked maybe twenty years old, unshaven with hair running the length of his back. He held his hand up to block the light from the flashlight blinding him, squinting as if he had never seen light before.
"Has he said anything?" Thomas asked.
"No, I just arrived here myself." Davis replied.
"He looks like a Goddamn monkey boy." Thomas added taking the flashlight. He stepped into the room, keeping the beam on the creature before him.
"What is your name?" Thomas asked.
The creature just stared back. The other two men stepped in closer blocking the doorway.
"What is your name?" he asked again.
The creature shifted, dragging its chain across the floor like an animal in a cage. As it moved Thomas noticed the name Alex scarred across its right shoulder and chest.
"Alex?" he asked looking down upon the monster before him. "Is that your name?"
No response.
"Alex, I am here to help you," Thomas said taking another step closer.
The creature gripped the chain tied to his collar and pulled trying to get away. There was nowhere to go.
"What do we have here men?" Thomas whispered to the two behind him.
"I have no idea." Davis replied.
Let me see!" boomed a familiar voice from behind. Everyone stood back and allowed the dark figure to enter the room.
"Looks like an ape." Seth stated.
"Yes sir." Thomas replied, shaken by Seth’s sudden appearance.
"You weren’t going to invite me to your party?" Seth asked Thomas.
"I didn’t think you wanted to be bothered by this," was his lame reply, and he knew it.
"You didn’t?"
"Yes sir."
"Who is the high priest my son? Who is your spiritual leader? Who do you answer to here on Earth?" Seth asked condescendingly.
"You sir."
"Then why are you making decisions for me?"
A moment passed. "I am sorry sir."
"Just pray my son that your actions do not keep you from your plan of salvation."
"I beg repentance."
"That is a wise choice." Seth stated, glaring at Thomas. "Now go get me five men! We will need help here!" he yelled at Davis and Follett.
The sheriff’s car pulled up to the house; the two men just back from their morbid duty. Two officers exited the vehicle and went separate directions. The deputy headed off to the end of the street where barricades were placed so non-church members could not drive past the house. A yellow work truck with the words "Denton Light and Water Dept." was parked by one of the barricades and workmen pretended to be hard at work running a hose down a manhole.
The sheriff walked across the terrace and up the steps to the house. By this time the house was on its way to being empty. The sheriff looked to his wristwatch, 2:00 a.m. it read, and he proceeded into the living room. He scanned the bare walls and patterns left by the furniture in the carpet satisfied with the progress.
"Hello Brother," said one of the cleaning crew to the sheriff. This was the common church greeting.
"Hello Brother," was the sheriff’s response, he said it like without thinking. "I see Seth’s car parked out front. Do you know were he is?"
"In the basement," he answered.
The sheriff rubbed his chin, gritting his teeth in anticipation of his encounter with Seth.
The sheriff walked into the kitchen to the stairwell and looked down the steps to the basement floor. A faint jingle of metal and the sounds of muffled voices reverberated from below. He stepped down one slat at a time as the boards creaked under his feet. He was listening, trying to make out what the voices were saying. He noted Seth’s voice immediately
"Sheriff!" Seth’s voice boomed from around the corner. "Your services are required here."
The sheriff came around the corner and joined the men standing at the doorway. Seeing Seth, the sheriff bowed his head and said, "How may I serve you father?"
"Have you seen this creature before?" Seth asked, pointing into the small dark room.
The sheriff raised his head and took a look at the man illuminated in the beam of the flashlight.
"No sir, this thing is unfamiliar to me," he replied.
"I though we owned the market on keeping secrets," Seth said, and walked back out to the main basement room followed by the three other men. "Take him to the church," he added as he turned to the men.
"I beg your pardon father, but we know nothing of this creature. Are you sure this is the wise thing to do?" Follett asked.
"Am I sure?" Seth asked, his brow low on his forehead. "It is this kind of dissonance that will be our downfall!" he barked at Follett.
"I am sorry," Follett said back swallowing hard.
"I require no apologies, only obedience!" Seth yelled at the man now cowering down shaking. "I see no reason not to inform the council of your words."
"No. Please! Father I shall repent!"
"Yes you shall. I will see to that," he stated. "There is a faction among the flock, a dangerous splitting of the members which is detrimental to the survival of the church. If I find you are among them I shall see that you join our Father post haste."
"I shall obey." Follett said.
"Take him to the church! Now!" Seth barked to the three men before him.