JLA Watchtower (Archive)

The sound found his ears as well. Looking back to the priest, he gestured for the alarmed cleric to remain calm and quiet and indicated that he should follow. Making no sound, he glided across the warped floor boards of the decayed hallway as his companion plodded more noisily behind. As they moved, he reached into his satchel and produced a muslin sachet and held it ready at his side.

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As the pair approached the end of the hall, the cry of a young girl could be heard from the room at the end. Although the air was dead calm, the door to the room suddenly slammed shut. A sickening sound akin to bone being pulled from flesh was heard from behind the door.

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Adam's hand grasped the crucifix at his throat and held it tightly. His face paled at the sounds as his doubts were washed away by fear. Despite the growing terror, he held his ground.

"The Lord is my shepherd,
I shall not want;
He makes me lie down in green pastures.."

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The priest's reactions were unsurprising, but also what he had hoped for. A man of weak faith would have fled. Even now, he could detect the mitigating effect of the cleric's invocations upon the supernatural miasma that closed in about them. It should provide the subtle wedge required.

With a swift and efficient kick he sundered the door from its hinges, causing it to fall forward into the room. Without hesitation he stepped forward to face what was inside.

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Icy air rank with the fetid scent of sour sweat and an opened grave wafts forth as the pair enter. The remains of Katherine's bedroom seem ghoulish cast in an unnatural and sickly red orange glow coming from the closet.

A whimper and furtive movements coming from beneath the filthy remains of a tattered blanket upon the bed reveals the pale and translucent presence of a small girl cowering in fear as she peeks out from under the pitiable defenses of her covers.

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Adam's prayer catches in his throat and he moves to go to the poor child. That she is but a transparent vision doesn't seem to register with him in his moment of compassion.

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Swiftly he raises an interposing arm to forestall the priest's advance. A strange flicker of green can be seen for a moment in his eye.

"Hold. Do not approach yet."

A forbidding intensity resounds in his voice, rooting the cleric to the place where he stands.

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Lurching from the closet is a nightmare made flesh. Hideous and gory, it reeks of sickening evil and vile appetites. Lacking anything resembling skin, a mass of yellowed sinew and organs that weep fetid fluids piled into a ramshackle parody of bone structure hauls itself in a macabre and horrifying manner from the open closet. Unlike the ghostly image of the terrified girl across the room, this unholy thing appears to be only too solid and 'real'.

In it's clutches struggles the faint and transparent form of a young woman. Oddly, she seems not to be attempting to escape the horror's grasp but instead to impede it's progress towards the child.

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Fear claws at Adam's mind as he witnesses the abomination before him. His voice catches in his throat and somewhere in the most primal and reptilian recesses of his brain the urge to run nearly overpowers him. He does not let it however and though his body trembles and his hear pounds in his ears, his voice finds a new strength and volume:

"Yea, though I walk through the valley of the shadow of death,
I WILL FEAR NO EVIL!: For thou art with me.."

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Emerging from the cancerous mass of unholy filth before them comes a face. Though it is bereft of skin and twisted with malefic passion, the features of John Sullivan can be recognized. An otherworldly howl that seems to come from depth far beloow the earth sound from his blackened and bloody maw and the monstrosity heaves toward the two in a maddening mockery of life.

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"I think not." Comes the cool reply of the priest's companion.

In the midst of this nightmare, he seems unshaken and collected. With a twist of the wrist he upends the contents of the satchel in hand and distributes its contents efficiently in an unbroken line on the floor between them and the thing that approaches.

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A shrill cry that ends in a sputtering hiss erupts from the beast and it's movement towards the two halts. The eyes nestled in it's horrid parody of a face look unnervingly human as it's gaze flickers between the two in attempt to assess their weaknesses. A bloated and gangrenous tongue glides across it's ruined and bruised lips to forestall rivulets of brown saliva.

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Finishing the final stanza of the psalm, Adam looks to his friend in wonder while contending with the terror about him.

"What was that?"

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Reaching into the satchel again, his eyes never leave the creature. To his companion he replies,
"Sea salt, white oak, blessed silver, the ashes of a Tibetan spirit ward I penned earlier today, and a few other oddments. I wanted to be certain, so I may have overcompensated."

From the satchel he produces the sterling silver lighter of Austin Walker.

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Despite the direness of the scene, Adam's brow furrows in consternation.
"White Oak? Blessed Silver? Where did you get all of these things on such short notice?"

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"You would be surprised as to what one may find, even in Sandybrook, when one knows where to look."

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Gnashing its corrupt and broken teeth, the deformed and damned corruption of the deceased serial killer turns from the warded man and hungrily crawls toward the bed and the translucent frightened child.

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He can feel the Spectre behind his very eyes. Its will is like the sea hammering away at his own human mind. He is filled with the urge to strike this abomination down and to cleanse this place in holy fire. To separate the good and evil with unmitigated WRATH and let the worth rise to heaven and the fell to be dragged down to hell.

He almost succumbs.

Letting the satchel fall to the floor, he takes up his full height and holds before him the silver lighter. White and green light begins to shine from his eyes and his voice takes on a quality of power that reminds Adam of an ocean storm.

"Hold Monster!
There is one who has unfinished business with you and those who you would prey upon!."

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White fire blooms from the inscription upon the silver lighter. Like a mighty torch it grows and bathes the room in pure light. Large and larger it grows, descending lighting upon the floor. As it touches down, it coalesces into a human form. As features refine themselves and spirit is given form, Austin Walker is revealed.

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The pustulant creature of corruption and malice recoils before the manifested spirit. Fear and uncertainty bloom in its expression and it raises a malformed hand to shield it's face from the divine light.

At the monster's moment of hesitation, the young woman's shade wrenches herself from its vile grasp and flies to the side of the trembling girl upon the bed. She holds the child's form in her arms and weeps tears of silver light as the two ghosts look on.

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The fire of the Spectre's power blazes high within the ghost of Autsin Walker. His face is a twisted mask of wrath as he steps toward the blasphemous creature that has tormented his wife and daughter both in life and in death. Vengence will be had.

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He is near drowning in the Spectre's fury. It is almost too much to resist. He cannot deny the Spectre in this but there is more than just the Spectre's mission to consider here. The memory of Chessed's indigo mercy holds his mind aloft.

"Wait!" he calls out amid the din of holy fury.

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Austin Walker's implacable gait is paused for a moment and he looks back. The eyes of the Spectre can be seen as well within the ghost.

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He can feel blood flowing from his nose. The physical strain is terrific, but he cannot falter now.

"There is a fork in the road ahead of your! You must decide which path you will choose, and once taken it cannot be undone!."

Holding hand up to shield his eyes from the blaze of glory he points to the seething mass of evil.
"This man who has damned himself as a monster is vile and has visited horrors upon those you love. Surely he deserves the karma he has wrought for himself. If you so choose, you can be visit your vengeance upon him."

He then gestures imploringly to the shade's wife and daughter.

"But consider! They need you! They LOVE you! They are trapped in this web of horror and loss as ghosts doomed to walk the earth. Now is your chance to take them in your embrace and bring them home to peace and healing. What will you choose Austin Walker? Vengeance or Love!??"

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