THE DEATH DISCIPLE by Gerald G. Griffin
Psychic Suspense Thriller. Published 1977 by Condor (New York). No book Image available. Book no longer in print.
Matt Thomas has a mysterious extra sense, a “third eye”, which had saved his life countless times in confrontations on the battlefields of Vietnam. Once out of military service, becoming a master of disguises, Matt made use of his “third eye” to survive twenty-one “hits” he made for the Costra Nostra, becoming the top hit man for the mob, keeping his true identity secret, the mob knowing him only as “Eros”, The Death Disciple. Then Matt retired from being a hit man, wanting to settle down and marry the beautiful Rachael Pleshette, who knew nothing of Matt’s prior hit man activities.
But interrupting his retirement, the mob desperately called upon Eros for one last hit, a hit more crucial for their survival than any other hit Eros had made for them. Teresa Romero, a dangerous, violent black witch, had sworn to kill every member of every Family of the Cosa Nostra with the hideous green death in revenge for the murder of her daughter by a mob member. Mob members begin dropping like swatted flies to the green sickness, with no escape from it, and no defense against it.
It took a ten million dollar hit contract to lure Eros out of retirement, but the mob would readily pay it to get Eros to whack Teresa Romero and bring to an end her gruesome, terrifying, unstoppable green death striking its members without mercy, worst than any plague.
What started out as a seemingly simple hit for Eros, quickly turns into a battle of psychic wits and forces as Eros fights his way through Teresa’s wall of demons and hideous spirits. The question through all of this is can The Death Disciple stay alive long enough to lure this witch to her death, using his combination of a killer’s expertise and psychic power to destroy her, or would Teresa kill him first with her demons from hell? As the story progresses in frantic fashion, it seems certain that the latter will occur until Eros stumbles upon an ally from the spiritual world, but even that help becomes a toss-up for Eros prevailing.
Matt could now speak. “You fucking bitch!” he snarled. “I’ll see you dead yet. Even if I have to return from the grave!”
“Good-bye, Mister Thomas. Have a pleasant death!”
Without willing it, Matt found himself bending over, picking up his revolver. Then some invisible force took him out of the room, pushed him down the corridor and out the front door. Outside, the wind was blowing strongly. A deafening, scream-filled thunder, materializing out of the air ushered Matt down the winding road leading to the gate, an isolated patch of rain following him. Once outside all was quiet again.
But Matt wasn’t quiet, not inside. Painful, explosive disturbances rocked the insides of his body, like a raging war, a colossal battle between matter and antimatter. His perceptions were becoming disoriented, his breathing difficult. He could feel his skin and flesh tighten, and he could smell a faint odor of decay. His body temperature was cooling. He looked at his skin. Its color was changing to a faint green. He was dying, dying of the green death. Matt knew he was done for. He had to get to a phone and warn Rachael while he was still able.