“What do we do?” Said Forrester beginning to panic. “I mean, where are they?” He stared at the flaming starred circle in front of him. Henry and John both drew pistols, Forrester didn’t carry one. He viewed it as a contradiction to his hippocratic oath. Slowly, one by one, people started appearing in the streets, each of them branded on their left arm with a bizarre occult symbol. If Forrester could have seen it clearly (it was evening time and they were standing a ways off) he would have seen a crude bull’s head with the sun between its horns all encompassed in the wings of an owl. One by one they appeared and began chanting “Molekoum! Molekoum! Molekoum!”

“Get back!” shouted Henry, his gun held out alternating between targets.

“I, I, I think I have a cross inside…” stammered Forrester.

“They’re not vampires.” Said John, “They won’t burn if you pour holy water on ‘em. They’re people. Sick, deranged people…”

“Molekoum! Molekoum!” chanted the crowd, growing more and more in number. A hooded figure appeared and walked into the center of the burning pentagram.

“Molekoum. Molekoum. RAA MOLEKOUM!” He shouted as the flames around him grew higher. “Bring us the goat!” He shouted.

“What goat?” Asked Forrester.

“I think he means old Ned.” said Henry.

“The.. The man is my patient, and he is under my protection!” Forrester shouted nervously.

“Molekoum! Molekoum!” The crowd shouted louder.

“Molech demands it!” Said the hooded man. “He demands your women, your children, your own very blood in sacrifice! He is a god! He is the great adversary! Molekoum! Molekoum Molek-” a very loud bang resounded through the streets, causing everyone to duck and the chanting to stop. The hooded man collapsed into the fire and was engulfed in flames.

“Molech sounds like a dick!” shouted Muriel from down the street, her gun drawn and smoking. She had shot the cursed priest in the head. Her and her men were all standing in a row, armed to the teeth, guns drawn and trained on the Acolytes of the Devil. “Scatter! Now!” She shouted. The Acolytes started running in all different directions. Muriel turned to Forrester. “Grab Ned and bring him to the church, maybe they’ll respect ‘holy ground’ and all that.” Forrester, Henry and John all ran inside and quickly grabbed Ned by the hands and feet. They carried him out the door and ran down the street to the church. Muriel was behind them but she stopped at the gate.

“Aren’t you coming?” Asked Forrester.

“Oh, you know. The whole ‘Saloon Girl’ thing.” She said, “I stopped being welcome in God’s house a long time ago.” Forrester and the men kept going and brought Ned in through the doors and then just about dropped him when they saw what was waiting for them inside. Before them lay the preacher, his face removed and his heart missing, lying on the altar at the front of the church.

“Is nothing sacred!?” Yelled Henry, as if furious with the universe.

“Molekoum, Molekoum. Molekoum!” the chant started again as the Acolytes poured into the sanctuary from the back of the church. “Molekoum! Molekoum! Molekoum!” The chant grew louder. Forrester heard footsteps behind him and turned to be met with a rifle butt to the face. He fell and blacked out. When he awoke he found Henry and John shot dead beside him, and in front of him was poor Ned, his heart removed and his face detached. Forrester had failed. Ned was dead.