Michael Devaney - The Elisha Pool

“Finn, it’s Andrew. Is it safe to talk?”

“What? Yes, why?” Finn asked, sounding confused. “Andria and I are in the car. We’re heading to the office now.”

“So it’s just the two of you in the car?” Andrew asked to confirm.

“Yes.”

“Good, then put me on speakerphone. Andria needs to hear this too.”

Finn quickly swiped his finger across the phone’s screen then scrolled through his settings. When he found the speakerphone option, he tapped the button then held the phone so he and Andria both could hear clearly.

“Okay Boss, you’re on speaker now. Shoot.”

“There’s been another surge in Concord,” Andrew said.

“What?” they exclaimed, exchanging confused glances. “Are you sure they’re related to the first?” Andria asked.

“Yes.”

“Is it from the same location?” Finn asked.

“It’s definitely within close proximity, but there’s something else.”

Finn and Andria gave each other an uneasy look.

“What might that be?” Finn prompted, looking as though he wasn’t quite sure he wanted to hear the answer.

“I think Stephenson may have opened up a Judas Portal .”

“A what?” they both asked in unison.

“A Judas Portal.”

“And what, pray tell, is a Judas Portal?” Finn asked.

“It’s definitely not good,” Andrew said. “In layman’s terms, it’s the evil doppelgänger of an Elisha Pool. These evil portals are only mentioned in a few select ancient texts and are the result of the forbidden act of attempting to artificially create a Fountain of Youth. Or, in this case, an Elisha Pool. As punishment for the deceitful act, instead of creating a means to enjoy everlasting life, nature’s defense creates a portal into eternal damnation.”

Andrew’s explanation rendered them completely baffled. They both stared and gaped ahead with unhinged jaws while the outlandish news sank into their already scrambled cortex.

Andria came out of the stupor first.

“Are you serious?” she exclaimed.

“I’m afraid I am,” Andrew said. “I know all of this must seem like a surreal nightmare, but please hang with me on this. As concerned as I was earlier about the Elisha Pool and finding the Monkey’s Paw, the feasible danger of this thing just more than quadrupled those stakes. We must not rest until this Judas Portal is found and quarantined before any further harm can be done.”

“We’re on it, sir,” Finn said. “We’ll head over to Stephenson’s now. You can brief us while we drive.”

“No,” Andrew said. “Come by the office first. I’ve gathered several details, including a few precautions, we need to discuss before you locate this thing. As serious as finding this portal is, it’s even more imperative that it’s handled with proper care when it is found. Now, get here on the double.”

“Yes, sir. We’ll be right there,” Finn said, pressing the accelerator to the floor.

Stephenson stood in the dark cemetery at the foot of his wife’s grave mentally celebrating. In his mind, he was on top of the world. He pulled the Monkey’s paw from his pocket and gave it a kiss then held it up high over his head with his right hand and pointed it toward the heavens. “My dear Monkey’s Paw,” he said, with unwavering confidence. “For my final wish, I request for my beloved wife, Rachel, to be brought back to me from the dead.”

As the words left his lips has stepped back a few paces anticipating a similar disturbance as before would originate from under Rachel’s grave. But nothing happened. He stood waiting in the moonlight for over a minute. Then five. Still nothing happened. No flash of light, no howling wind, no earth grumblings…nothing.

His enthusiasm soon gave way to panic as his unstable mind began racing with negative possibilities. Then he latched onto one of them and dread took hold. In his haste to get her back, he imagined he’d done something critically wrong with the wish.

Oh dear, Lord! What have I done? I’ve brought her back to life, but now she’s trapped alive underground.

Images of her screaming and clawing at her coffin ate away at what sanity he had left.

She must be trying to escape.

Horrified, Stephenson dropped down on all fours and put his ear to the ground. He frantically maneuvered the side of his head around in all directions for several minutes listening for the slightest sound. There was only dead silence. His paranoia confirmed, he rolled over onto his back, exhausted. As he gazed up at the stars, reality hit him. His wife was not coming back. Raging tears gushed down both sides of his face.

He laid there and listened for nearly an hour before mustering the energy to stand. He returned home in a state of utter despair and collapsed into his recliner. He fell asleep crying and wondered if he could live, forever, without her.

While Stephenson slept, the earth below the Judas Portal churned like a witch’s cauldron. And, as a result of his final wish, so did the mostly decayed body of his undead wife which lay directly adjacent to the evil Portal.

Steadily the Portal’s foul water began to spread in all directions, softening the dirt around Rachel’s coffin. The evil water eventually found its way through the long ago deteriorated seams in the coffin, infecting her undead remains on contact. Gradually, her revitalized corpse began a steady assault to free itself from its underground tomb.

Bang! Bang! Bang! Went the side of her fists against the inside of the coffin’s lid. Amid the unrelenting tempo, she also began to speak.

“Together forever, my love,” she mumbled, in tune with her kicking and banging.

Little by little, each pounding blow loosened the coffin’s rusty latches until finally they snapped. With only the weight of the soil left for resistance, Rachel continued to inch the lid upward until she had established a sizeable gap. Using her bony claws as excavating instruments, she began to dig. Her escape from the muddy grave would only be a matter of time.

The next morning Stephenson fumbled in the back of his sock drawer and pulled out a loaded revolver. It was a snub-nosed .38 Special and had been a birthday gift from Rachel during their sophomore year of marriage.

He sat on the edge of his bed for over an hour spinning the pistol’s cylinder and staring at his reflection in the bedroom’s dresser mirror. When his mind was made up, he sat the pistol down on the bed then stood and dressed himself. That done he inserted the pistol into his right, front pants pocket and walked downstairs and out the front door toward the cemetery.

He wanted to talk to his beloved Rachel one last time.

When he got to the plot of ground where his wife was buried he saw for the first time, in the light of day, the black, cursed water that made up the Judas Portal. He also detected the sulfurous, rotting smell. Ten feet to the right of the portal, he saw a huge gaping hole dug into the center of his wife’s soupy grave plot. The extra dirt from inside the hole was mounded high around the outside of the opening. Deep claw marks littered the muddy mound.

Stephenson’s heart jumped. She’s alive! My Rachel is alive!

He hurried forward and bent over on one knee to look down into the dim, odious hole. He saw all the way to the bottom. More embedded claw marks lined the inside of the hole. An open, coffin stared back up at him. It was empty.

Where is my Rachel? Where did she go?

He spun his head around on a swivel several times. There was no sign of her. Frantic to find her, he leapt to his feet and ran the entire length and breadth of the cemetery calling her name. She was nowhere to be found.