Randall's excerpt from Darkness, Oklahoma

      Randall chose page 200 from Darkness, Oklahoma. Father Paul is about to open a box that he found in a hidden location in his church. What he finds brings him more questions than answers.
      This will conclude the excerpts for a while. I hope you enjoyed them.
      Oh, I mentioned that there was a code in Murder at the Witch's Cottage. I thought you might like a chance to solve if you can. Here it is: TTENU ITTRM HHNEI HBTRO AOTUC TERKH CES. I'll give you a hint. It's not a substitution cipher.
      Do you have any plans for this weekend? I'm going to work on the play and on my car as well as work on the family newsletter. (I'm two months behind on the newsletter.)
      I'd also like to request that you add my sister-in-law to your prayers. The doctors have discovered a tumor on her throid. They're going to remove it next Wednesday and see if it's cancer. I'll let you know something when I know something. Just keep her in the Big Guy's attention.

From Darkness, Oklahoma

      "Forgive me," Paul muttered, making the sign of the cross. He opened the box. Three things lay inside. A smaller box still sealed with wax, a silver-tipped arrow held securely on a display board, and a small journal that was imprinted with Montgomery's name. Paul looked at the arrow in surprise. No one had mentioned that anything except the thread would be in the reliquary. Had Father Montgomery placed it in there?
      He left the other items alone and took out the journal. It was tied securely with white cord. He'd need a knife to cut it open. He rose, paused, and picked up the reliquary. He opened the altar and returned the reliquary to the cavity. He could always reopen it if he needed to.
      Carrying the journal, he went to the front of the church and unlocked the doors. Then he went into his office. He sat the book down on the desk and looked at its worn leather cover. He felt a strange reluctance to open it. He shook it away and began to read.

To the priest that follows me,
      I know what I am about to say is fantastic and unbelievable, but I swear on the all the Saints that it is true. Read with an open and prayerful mind; then make up your own mind.
      This story begins eons ago when the earth was without form and a great conflict raged between Good and Evil. In this battle, armies of light and armies of darkness met in pitched battle to determine the fate of the universe. Good triumphed, and a great evil was struck down and cast into the depths, there to sleep until the Last Battle.
      Now know that the weapon that delivered the final blow was known as Gladius Silentium, the Sword of Silence. It is said the Sword of Silence was the weapon of the archangel Michael.
      After the battle, the Sword was hidden in the earth until such time it was needed again. But an earthquake seventy years ago opened a Way to the sword. It was found by a wandering monk known as Enoch Sorrow. Brother Sorrow brought the Sword to the attention of the church and then delivered a prophecy concerning it. The sword became the concern of a group of bishops known as the Scarlet Fellowship.
      The Fellowship, formed during World War II to protect the interests of the church, first built a church with an underground vault on the hill overlooking Wilson Lake to house the sword, but before it could be moved to the vault, lightning stuck the church and burned it to the ground and a great wind scattered its timbers to the four corners of the earth.
      They then attempted to move the Sword to Rome, but no men could approach the sword without becoming sick unto death. Eventually the Fellowship was forced to leave the sword where it was found.
      Enoch Sorrow had warned them that the sword should be let alone and regretted having revealed its location. He feared the Scarlet bishops would continue their efforts and so he took a journey to Rome in an attempt to speak to the Holy Father. He vanished and was never heard from again.
      I have never seen the complete prophecy of Enoch Sorrow as it is suppressed by the Scarlet bishops, but I know he spoke of two people, a Swordmain and a Protector. They are meant to find the sword when a great evil threatens the earth. It is not meant for any other.
      The Fellowship, however, worried about leaving the sword with no protection and performed a dark ritual to create a guardian. In this ritual, a young girl was convinced to hang herself and her spirit was trapped to serve as that guardian. The girl's name was Alice Smythe. She was a good Catholic girl and deserved better than her fate. Her body is buried in the cemetery near the center cross. That part of the cemetery is not consecrated as it should be. It was necessary that she be buried in unconsecrated ground for the ritual to be effective. But to hide this fact, others have been buried there. This is an affront to what the Holy Church stands for.
      I have included instructions for consecrating the cemetery. A consecration, as you know, is supposed to be conducted by a bishop, but I fear you will not find one willing to oppose the Scarlet Fellowship. I trust the Lord God will forgive you for attempting it and will bless your efforts. It is the only way I can think of to end this evil as a consecration should end the girl's imprisonment and let her spirit travel to Abraham's bosom.
      I am sorry to have left this to you. I should have ended it myself, but I lacked the courage and now lack the strength. Forgive an old man if you can. If you are reading this, then I am incapacitated, or more likely I am dead, passed to a greater judgment that weigh my deeds and my heart. May the Saints bless and protect you.

Father Timothy Joseph Montgomery

      The rest of the journal included instructions for the consecration. Paul closed the book and sat there for a long time. How much of this did he really believe? How much could he believe and keep his faith?
      He heard of the Scarlet bishops, of course. Church history was riddled with various secret groups, real and imagined, from the Knights Templar to the Opus Dei to the Scarlet Fellowship. A group of bishops and at least one cardinal supposedly formed the Fellowship during World War II to oppose what they felt were church appeasement policies toward the Nazis. But unlike the Opus Dei, you couldn't find anyone who was a member of the Scarlet Fellowship, or at least anyone who would say they were.
       The Fellowship was rumored to have smuggled Jews out of Germany and to have actually carried out various missions against the Nazis, but the Church never recognized the Fellowship or admitted its existence. If the group actually existed, Paul found it hard to believe that a group based in Italy would somehow be involved in Darkness, Oklahoma. And that such a group would use a "dark ritual" to bind the spirit of a girl to their purposes.
      What did he really know for sure? He had heard a voice in the church. He had gone to Father Montgomery to ask him about it and instead had heard some of what he was reading now. But other than the voice and Montgomery's testimony, Paul had no evidence to support any of this.
      He rubbed his eyes. Had he been misled by Montgomery? He didn't think the elderly priest had lied to him, but Montgomery could have been suffering from age-related dementia. He hadn't seen any signs of that, but he hadn't been looking and he was no doctor. Perhaps that could be his justification for the autopsy if he got called on it.
      He sighed. So where did this leave him? On one hand, he had a totally unbelievable story that included an archangel's sword, a trapped spirit, a prophecy, a secret society, and God only knows what else. On the other, he had the explanation that the old priest was slipping into a fantasy world, certainly not unheard of in men of Montgomery's age. As for the voice, Paul could have imagined it or even suffered a stress episode.
      He got up and walked into the sanctuary. He knelt and began to pray, but no answers came to him. After a few minutes, he rose. Perhaps a brisk walk around the neighborhood. He strode out into the hot, muggy night. Far off on the horizon, heat lightning glowed.
      He stayed to the lit streets, remembering the strange man of this morning who had accosted him. He wondered if he should have reported the incident to the police, but nothing really happened.
      He mopped his brow with his handkerchief. He slowed. He didn't think he could walk this off. He hated to go back to his empty house, but at least he could fret in air-conditioning. Then he remembered he hadn't locked the church. He sighed. He'd have to walk back there first.
      A faint sound penetrated his thoughts. He raised his head. What was that? He walked further down the street, listening hard, but only heard the crickets and a few night birds.
      He shrugged and started to walk back to the church. Then he heard a woman scream.

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