Darkfall

switched off the headlights.
    VII
    Four goblins crept out of the vestibule, into the center aisle, into the light that, while not bright, revealed their grotesque forms in more stomach-churning detail than Rebecca would have liked.
    At the head of the pack was a foot-tall, man-form creature with four fire-filled eyes, two in its forehead. Its head was the size of an apple, and in spite of the four eyes, most of the misshapen skull was given over to a mouth crammed full and bristling with teeth. It also had four arms and was carrying a crude spear in one spike- fingered hand.
    It raised the spear above its head in a gesture of challenge and defiance.
    Perhaps because of the spear, Rebecca was suddenly possessed of a strange but unshakable conviction that the man-form beast had once been-in very ancient times-a proud and blood-thirsty African warrior who had been condemned to Hell for his crimes and who was now forced to endure the agony and humiliation of having his soul embedded within a small, deformed body.
    The man-form goblin, the three even more hideous creatures behind it, and the other beasts moving through the dark vestibule (and now seen only as pairs of shining eyes) all moved slowly, as if the very air inside this house of worship was, for them, an immensely heavy burden that made every step a painful labor. None of them hissed or snarled or shrieked, either. They just approached silently, sluggishly, but implacably.
    Beyond the goblins, the doors to the street still appeared to be closed. They had entered the cathedral by some other route, through a vent or a drain that was unscreened and offered them an easy entrance, a virtual invitation, the equivalent of the “open door” that they, like vampires, probably needed in order to come where evil wasn’t welcome.
    Father Walotsky, briefly mesmerized by his first glimpse of the goblins, was the first to break the silence. He fumbled in a pocket of his black cassock, withdrew a rosary, and began to pray.
    The man-form devil and the three things immediately behind it moved steadily closer, along the main aisle, and other monstrous beings crept and slithered out of the dark vestibule, while new pairs of glowing eyes appeared in the darkness there. They still moved too slowly to be dangerous.
    But how long will that last? Rebecca wondered. Perhaps they’ll somehow become conditioned to the atmosphere in the cathedral. Perhaps they’ll gradually become bolder and begin to move faster. What then?
    Pulling the kids with her, Rebecca began to back up the aisle, toward the altar. Father Walotsky came with them, the rosary beads clicking to his hands.
    VIII
    They slogged through the snow to the foot of the steps that led up to Lavelle’s front door.
    Jack’s revolver was already in his hand. To Carver Hampton, he said, “I wish you’d wait in the car.”
    “No.”
    “This is police business.”
    “It’s more than that. You know it’s more than that.”
    Jack sighed and nodded.
    They climbed the steps.
    Obtaining an arrest warrant, pounding on the door, announcing his status as an officer of the law-none of that usual procedure seemed necessary or sensible to Jack. Not in this bizarre situation. Still, he wasn’t comfortable or happy about just barging into a private residence.
    Carver tried the doorknob, twisted it back and forth several times. “Locked.”
    Jack could see that it was locked, but something told him to try it for himself. The knob turned under his hand, and the latch clicked softly, and the door opened a crack.
    “Locked for me,” Carver said “but not for you.”
    They stepped aside, out of the line of fire.
    Jack reached out, pushed the door open hard, and snatched his hand back.
    But Lavelle didn’t shoot.
    They waited ten or fifteen seconds, and snow blew in through the open door. Finally, crouching, Jack moved into the doorway and crossed the threshold, his gun thrust out in front of him.
    The house was exceptionally dark. Darkness would work to Lavelle’s advantage, for he was familiar with the place, while it was all strange territory to Jack.
    He fumbled for the light switch and found it.
    He was in a broad entrance hall. To the left were inlaid oak stairs with an ornate railing. Directly ahead, beyond the stairs, the hall narrowed and led all the way to the rear of the house. A couple of feet ahead and to the right, there was an archway, beyond which lay more darkness.
    Jack edged to the brink of the arch. A little light