Holy Terror (eBook)

John R. Dougherty (Autor)

eBook Download: EPUB

2023 | 1. Auflage
300 Seiten
Bookbaby (Verlag)
978-1-6678-9801-8 (ISBN)

Infos

A gripping supernatural thriller where brutal crimes reveal an invisible war between good and evil. As justice is delivered through mysterious, otherworldly means, detectives and agents uncover a force far greater than themselves. Holy Terror is a bold blend of crime, faith, and the paranormal.

John Dougherty has spent his professional career working in information technology by day and dabbling in a variety of other diversions by night. Including a few decades of serving in lay ministry. While serving in this capacity he preached hundreds of sermons, taught countless Bible study classes, and wrote dozens of articles. He enjoys golf, guitars, grandchildren, and all things Kansas City . Visit https://www.JohnRDougherty.com to sign up on his email distribution list to stay in touch with his past, present, and future writing projects...you might even find a few barbecue recommendations there for the next time you're visiting Kansas City!

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How far would heaven go to stop evil?Holy Terror by John R. Dougherty is a bold, genre-bending thriller that collides the gritty realities of crime with the unseen forces of the supernatural. Across America, cities are gripped by a wave of brutal, unexplainable killings. Hardened detectives, desperate federal agents, and unsuspecting civilians are thrust into a hidden war one fought not just on the streets, but across realms unseen by human eyes. Justice and vengeance blur as supernatural forces intervene, delivering judgment in ways that defy comprehension. What appears to be vigilante terror hides a deeper, eternal conflict between the forces of light and the agents of darkness. Perfect for readers who crave heart-pounding mystery, paranormal suspense, and stories that confront evil with a fierce sense of righteousness, Holy Terror is both a chilling crime saga and a powerful spiritual allegory. Fans of Christian thrillers, mystery fiction, and supernatural fantasy will be gripped from the first brutal crime scene to the final breathtaking confrontation. Every act of violence, every hidden enemy, and every whispered prophecy points to a truth far greater than mortal justice. Holy Terror is not just a story, it's a glimpse into the timeless battle for the soul of humankind. Prepare yourself, once you enter, there's no turning back.

Textauszug

“…in due time their foot will slip; their day of disaster is near and their doom rushes upon them.”

—Moses, the book of Deuteronomy

CHAPTER 1:

THE SHAPE OF THINGS TO COME

The early morning shards of sunlight were just beginning to streak across the wispy morning clouds in shades of pinks and oranges. The renowned Miami heat was already firing up, despite the early hour, quickly devouring the residual cool breeze of the overnight darkness. The street vendors had already begun preparing the day’s wares, so the air was filled with the scents of a variety of tasty delicacies.

Ian Jelani ignored them all. The Miami detective stood at the crime scene, baffled over what was before him. In all his twelve years on Miami’s Police Force he had witnessed a lot of crazy crime scenes, but this one might top them all. And that counted the crazy stuff during the race riots in St. Louis, when being a black policeman was a sure-fire way to get things thrown at you. Ian was a man of average height, athletically built, in good shape for a veteran cop. His clipper cut curly, dark hair was showing tinges of gray around his temples, a shade that extended to his goatee.

Ian exhaled slowly. He had investigated more than his fair share of gang violence and ruthlessness, yet he found himself dumbfounded today. His dark eyes darted about the area, then rubbing his hands over his face in disbelief, he turned and called out to his partner, “Hey Lane, you better come over and check this one out for yourself. You are not going to believe this, partner.”

Ian watched his comrade, Detective Lane Madigan, begin to make his way over to the crime scene. He could see the questioning look in Lane’s eyes. Lane was younger, a little taller, probably six feet four inches, and he looked like he could have played as a football defensive end once-upon-a-time. His dark brown hair was perfectly in place, and his green eyes widened as he approached.

Despite the grisly scene before them, Ian suddenly noticed the smell of fresh Cuban burritos wafting in the air, particularly noticeable because he was already hungry for some breakfast. The call to this crime scene had disrupted his normal morning ritual.

“After more than two years of working with you, bud, I know exactly what you’re thinking,” called out Lane. “I can smell them too. We definitely need to go get a couple.”

“Well I hope you’re still hungry after what you look at here,” said Ian. “It’s almost enough to kill my appetite…but only ‘almost’, because I’m starving,” he said, watching his friend advance.

Still looking down at the implausible situation presented to him by this overnight homicide, Ian wagged his head in utter disbelief. What kind of force did it take to actually nail someone’s head into a concrete sidewalk? With his bewilderment under control, his experience and training took over as he contemplated the crime scene. Aside from the obvious, he also noted a large rock lying on the ground near the dead man’s body. Puzzled, he thought to himself that the sticky wet red stains on it would not clear up this mystery any sooner.

Ian, long-having refused to give into all the electronic gadgetry of the day, scribbled on his old-fashioned notepad. He glanced up from it to see Lane walk up beside him. “Not another one,” Lane muttered quietly so only they could hear. Ian saw the younger detective looking for answers in his eyes. Ian was sure the only thing Lane saw there was the very same frustration and shock.

Ian maneuvered carefully around the victim’s body to get a closer view of the head. He turned on his penlight to get a better view in the still dimly lit morning hour. He let out a slow whistle. That is one big spike, driven right through this poor guy’s temple. Could the perp have used that softball sized rock nearby to drive the spike in? Get a grip, Jelani, he told himself. It was no wonder forensics had not yet been able to extract the spike. Not only would the extraction process further damage the victim’s head, conventional human strength had simply failed to budge it. He leaned in a little closer to inspect below the head as it lay in a large pool of congealing blood on the sidewalk. The spike went at least several inches down into the concrete, best as could be seen.

Ian stood up from his crouched position over the body, making the sign of the cross. “Question is,” he said, looking back over at Lane, “was the victim killed with the rock, then he was impaled, or was the perp hammering the spike into this dude’s head with the rock?”

“Or maybe neither,” retorted Lane. He was dressed in his wrinkled khakis and department issued T-shirt, noted Ian. That sort of ensemble only comes after having dressed hurriedly in response to an early morning call out. Lane continued, “It looks like there is some blood on that rock, but honestly not that much. I mean you would think it would be covered if it had been used either way. This is the second one of these bizarre crime scenes this week; the fourth this month. I just don’t think I can take another one, not this early in the morning.” He exhaled noticeably.

Lane was not a morning person, Ian remembered. Especially when his day started out like this. In fact, Ian was not sure he’d ever seen him eat breakfast before 10:00am in the two years they had been partners. Good thing, thought Ian. He quickly thought how thankful he was that he had not yet eaten any breakfast either, despite the pangs of hunger he felt.

“What does the Doc say about this one?” Ian asked to distract himself.

“A male, of Middle Eastern descent,” Lane replied, as he abruptly broke off his response. Ian looked at Lane, as if to say “Well, duh!”

“I could have figured that much out myself, Captain Obvious,” responded Ian “That’s it? I sure hope Doc can find it in herself to dig up a little more information for us than that.”

“Maybe you should spend a little more time with the good Doctor to move things along,” Lane said with a smirk.

Ian shot Lane a look of slight disgust over that last comment. “Okay pal,” he responded, “you better watch your mouth.” Ian knew that Lane was only trying to get a rise out of him over comments about Dr. Lauren Willis, and it was all in good fun. But still, he just did not tolerate any inappropriate suggestions about her, even from his best friend.

Lane grinned, clearly pleased with how it grated on Ian’s nerves. He spread his arms wide, “But hey, why break the streak—we haven’t had a decent lead on any of these ‘Hamburger Homicides’, so bring on yet another sickening, unsolvable crime.”

“Oh I’m getting pretty disgusted with investigating these ridiculous crime scenes,” Ian said, obviously irritated. “I’ve had it up to here with the meddling media and their ‘Hamburger Homicides’, as they like to call them. You and I have seen a lot of crazy stuff in our day, but I tell you what, nothing tops these crimes.”

“I hear you,” answered Lane. “But listen, no one out there is going to miss any of these nut jobs who are no longer wandering the streets. A repeat rapist, a street gang leader, a pedophile. Maybe their mamas miss them, but heck, probably not even them. I can’t wait to hear about this latest dude. No doubt, he’ll be right in that same category. Wanna make a bet on that one?”

Ian shook his head. “Nope, not touchin’ a bet like that,” he retorted. “But look, all life is sacred, man. It may be hard to hear it when it comes to guys like this,” he motioned his hand toward the corpse before them, “but it’s the honest-to-God truth.”

Lane rolled his eyes a bit at Ian’s commentary. “Okay, sure, whatever you say, Ian. That’s not the first time you’ve tried to remind me of your thoughts on the subject.”

As the photographer showed up to take several pictures of the crime scene, Detectives Madigan and Jelani started to head back to their squad car. Lane broke what had turned into a long silence. “Jelani, I’ve said it before, you know that I think all these scumbags got just exactly what was really coming to them.”

Ian interrupted him. “Oh yes, you have not been quiet about that, buddy. But it’s our job to put these whackos away, and the problem is that some gang has decided to take it upon themselves. They are not much better than these perps.”

Lane inclined his head and screwed up his face, “Well that’s where we have a little disagreement…in theory only I guess. I applaud getting these ruthless criminals off the streets any way it can happen, but don’t get me wrong, I get it. We just cannot have people taking the law into their own hands, or else things get really crazy for us good guys.” He paused to run a finger under his nose as he considered his words. “ What are we supposed to do? No worthwhile evidence has yet to turn up. No traceable murder weapons, no fingerprints, no footprints, no tire tracks, no hair samples—nadda,...

Produkt-Details

• Erscheint lt. Verlag: 2.4.2023
• Sprache: englisch
• Themenwelt: Literatur ► Fantasy / Science Fiction ► Fantasy
• Themenwelt: Literatur ► Krimi / Thriller / Horror
• ISBN-10: 1-6678-9801-9 / 1667898019
• ISBN-13: 978-1-6678-9801-8 / 9781667898018