Daily Flash Fiction Challenge

Grandma's cult

John stepped closer to the large painting in the Renaissance section of the art gallery. It was a voluptuous woman reclining on a day bed with three devil like creatures standing behind in the background.

The painter was unknown and the experts were liking it to an undiscovered Michelangelo but no one was absolutely sure.

It was the frame that intrigued him. He had seen the intricate design somewhere before and he couldn't quite place it.

Then it came to him. When he was a child he came across a painting in his grandmother's attic which was dark and evil and the featured the same three devils standing over a slaughtered pig with a similar design on the frame.

He remembered staggering back downstairs feeling immensely cold and his mother remarked on his blue lips and asked him what he'd been up to.

He couldn't answer her and the question never came up again but his grandmother had given him a queer look at the time.

Thirty years later, John felt his body shiver and the hairs on the back of his neck stood up and he was covered in goose bumps on his arms and legs.

The lights in the art gallery flickered and dimmed and then went out completely.

He was the only one in that part of the building.

He heard a feint woman's laugh and voices chanting quietly over and over - ' dabo tibi animam tuam diabolo et adiciet ut resurgat'

The room got colder and he fell to his knees and hugged himself as his teeth chattered. The woman's laugh was familiar though he couldn't quite place it.

The lights flickered and he saw the devils in the painting move slightly.

"John, it's time," whispered the reclining figure of his grandmother in her youth.