by Michael Todd
Father Judah glanced at the others. “And the Russians?”
“They were exorcised and left in the room. When they wake up, they won’t have any memory of why they were there. In addition, there was a small demon that Max…handled, but he didn’t appear to be anything more than a nuisance.”
Father Judah clutched his hands together tightly, something Damian wasn’t used to seeing. He acted, though, as if he didn’t notice. The high priest waved to one of his servants. “Take this artifact and put it with our private collection for now. It is to be guarded at all times.”
The young priest bowed and extended his hands. For a moment, Damian hesitated but handed it over. The man handled it with extreme care, wrapped it in a velvet cloth, and carried out of the room. The priest knew he would never see the piece again, but the vase itself was not really important. The message in the insignia left on the bottom was.
Father Judah waved to the seats in front of him. “Please, have a seat.”
Damian nodded at Max and let him go first, then followed him. He had a million questions, but he knew he had to ask them nonchalantly. Ravi grumped in the background. The three Crack Pots are seriously freaking me out with the whole vampire vibe. I think they use that vase to drink the blood of the young. It’s like some weird ritual cult thing.
He cleared his throat and tried to drown her out. “May I ask, what is so significant about that artifact?”
Father Judah stared at him for a moment. “It was once the archbishop’s. He adored the vase, and we wanted to make sure it stayed safe.”
Damian spoke up before he could change the subject. “It has very interesting carvings and insignias on it. What are those from? What language?”
Father Christoff broke in. “It’s shocking the priest who knows everything is at a loss. I imagine those are some secrets that are better left for us to know. No matter, they mean nothing now.”
He didn’t like the tone and knew it was complete bullshit. Ravi cracked up. Ohhhh. Father Time told you. Don’t you worry about that shit, brother. You don’t need to know everything. He straight up put you down.
He straight up avoided answering the question because he knew the answer would hurt him, he replied.
She giggled. I bet it is nothing important. I bet he made up some language. He probably has it stenciled on his too-tight tighty whities. It’s like his name in hieroglyphics. He probably annoys the other three by making sure they all have their names Sharpied in hieroglyphics on the back of their drawers.
Damian put his hand up as if to wipe his mouth and tried not to laugh. Max sat there, clutching the arms of the chair, and felt only marginally better after Astaroth’s calming. The Wise Men whispered among themselves, and Damian felt that Max would simply get up and run from the room at any moment. That would not bode well for him.
Luckily, only a couple of minutes later, they began the conversation again. Ravi didn’t like it in the least, though. Yuck, do you see the fake smile they are giving Max? I never want to see that again. They look like they are about to eat him.
Father Judah spoke, his lips pressed stiffly upward at each side. “Max, it’s so good to finally meet you. We’ve heard some very good things about you. How is your training going?”
Max swallowed hard. “Very well, thank you. Damian has been helpful in teaching me the importance of exorcisms, the different types, and how to protect myself in a non-lethal way in order to create more space to exorcise.”
Ravi whistled. Good answer kid. I’m so proud of him. He’s like a little you now. Lying to the big cheeses and everything.
They are trying to butter him up. Obviously they want to get their hooks in him, but I haven’t figured out why yet, Damian replied and studied them closely.
Father Judah took a manila envelope from a silver platter one of the servant-priests held. He passed it to Damian and nodded. “Your next mission. I think you will find this one rather satisfying, but remember your oath. It always comes before your emotions, Damian.”
Damian gave him a fake smile and took the envelope. Father Judah waved his hand. “You are both dismissed. The secretary will be in touch with the rest of the information.”
Max stood and Damian followed, and they headed toward the door. The servant opened it, and another waited for them on the other side. They were shown through the hallways and out of the church. Once the cool air hit them, they both took deep breaths and then exhaled.
The car was still in the same place they had parked, so without any conversation, they hurried over to it, climbed in, and shut the doors. Max yelped slightly. “That was intense. Very intense. And I can’t figure out why they were so nice to me.”
Damian shook his head. “Because they want something from you. But they will only be friendly until they believe you trust them enough to get whatever they are looking for from you. Be careful.”
Max nodded vigorously. “I may be young and green, but I can see forced kindness a mile away.”
The priest unwound the string from the metal prongs that held the envelope shut. He opened it and slid the papers half the way out and scanned them. Usually his orders came from the Secretary, but he assumed it was merely another artifact for them to find. However, as his gaze filtered the information, he realized it wasn’t that at all. There were demons involved in this one, and Damned too.
His mouth went dry almost immediately as he reread the information to make sure he wasn’t mistaken. When he finally realized that he was not, he put the envelope in his lap and stared out the window for a second.
Oh shit, he whispered in his head for Ravi but no one else to hear.
She perked up. What do we got, boss? Show me. I can’t see it in your mind.
Damian tilted his head down so she could see through him. She took as long as he did, reading and rereading the information on the sheet in his lap. It wasn’t like her to go absolutely silent.
As he pushed the papers into the envelope, the demon whispered quietly to him as the anxiety burned in her chest.
Holy Hell.
Chapter Five
It wasn’t cold in the house at all, but Damian needed the familiar crackle and warmth of the fire as he sat in his chair and thought about the day. The lights were low, and the shadows of the flames bounced around the room like the reflections from a disco ball in constant movement. The hot air pushed out to warm his cool feet and create a sense of comfort for him and Ravi that had been noticeably absent since he saw the insignia on the vase earlier that day.
He tapped his fingers on the arm of the chair, entranced by the flickering flames. His mind constantly wandered as he tried to identify a connection that he could feel was there but couldn’t seem to pin down. That wasn’t like him. He was usually really good at deciphering the clues. To him, his current failure to do so meant one of two things. Either this secret was so deeply buried that he would continue to search for years, or there was no connection, and it all simply twisted in his mind because he wanted it there.
Damian shook the thoughts from his head, picked up the cardinal’s journal, and opened to a passage near the end. He wanted more recent dates—or at least as recent as possible among those dates included in the journal.
February 16, 1987
The sheer degree of demonstration against the revocation of Father Charles E. Curran of the Catholic Church is even more proof as to how heavy the hand of the devil is. Although the hand of the church seems equally heavy. After a year of battles to persuade him to revoke his views on birth control, sexuality, and marriage, the church eventually told the public he was removed from church service. What they didn’t say was the reasoning behind his sudden change in heart.
Demons are everywhere, even within the walls of our Father’s dwelling. Finding them has been more than a challenge but Father Curran made his easy. Of course, I had to sit back, not only due to their fear of me but because I could not let him see me standing against the devilish values. I had to retain the middle road, which as
a priest I should be an expert at, but I simply can’t seem to do it.
After finding Curran as a Damned he was taken away for exorcism, but the word is that he didn’t survive. I could almost hear the deep laughter of the fiery bastards below welcoming his soul with open arms. It is a tragedy, to say the least. Still, my mind lingers on my own plight. They watch me closely, and I don’t blame them. Hopefully, the quiet of the months before this continue into the future, but I know I have not seen the last of the bubbling and agonizing waves of the devil.
The medallion keeps me safe, for now. A fake safety that merely allows me to elude my ultimate afterlife. Although in my dreams, I see the place at Chiswick and can only hope the pen stays still. The names; they are written in the devil’s own handwriting, a prophecy of what is to come. At least, that is what they say.
We will have to see what happens from here.
Until I write again,
Mortimore
Ravi was quiet for a moment. Chiswick House. What an odd place for there to be any connection to this. And I have no idea what he means by the book. There should be nothing left of the devil’s handwriting by now.
I know, but I have a feeling, as the timeline has seriously progressed, that this could have something to do with his disappearance, he pointed out.
All right, then let’s check it out in the morning. There’s no reason to go at night, she suggested.
A bell clanged and echoed relentlessly through Max’s head. He slapped his hands over his ears and flopped over in the bed, his eyes open. When he raised his hands, the sound level didn’t increase in the least. That was when he realized that it came from inside his head. Astaroth was being a jerk as usual.
He was instantly pissed. Stop! I am awake. What the hell? He hated being woken up like that.
The demon sniffed. Oh, good morning. I didn’t know you were up. The birds must have done it. Why don’t we get some coffee, then?
Max rolled his eyes, threw his covers off, and shifted to the edge of the bed. He knew there was zero point to any argument with him once he had made up his screwy little demon mind. With a loud groan, he teetered at the edge of the bed and thrust his feet into his slippers. He shuffled out of the room and around the corner into the kitchen.
Astaroth knew exactly what he wanted. The Columbian mixed with a teaspoon of the honey passionfruit flavored bean.
He nodded and yawned before he took the coffees from the cupboard and loaded the grinder with the perfect amount. The smell of honey passion fruit was almost nauseating, but he knew it would only be a hint when mixed in with the Columbian beans. He’d added enough to make the special blend favored by Astaroth.
Max dumped the grinds into the drip filter and turned his attention to the electric kettle. He opened the lid and filled it as he glanced out the window. He frowned with sudden curiosity and focused on Damian, who now snuck off without having said a word to them that morning.
Astaroth immediately rose to the occasion. You know, I’m starting to think your mentor priest has a side job. Like devil spy or hooker. Knitter maybe, but I doubt it. It’s probably something lower key like Jazz club piano player.
The priest chuckled at the idea of Damian being any of those things. Something was up, though, but he had no idea what it was. He finished the coffee, shuffled back into the bedroom, and closed the door behind him. Once he’d set the coffee cup on his nightstand, he sat cross-legged in the center of the bed. He opened his laptop in front of him and turned it on.
The large manila envelope lay on the bed beside him, so he opened it and emptied the contents onto the bed. He had seen the nervous reaction Damian had the day before but couldn’t determine why. Even Astaroth was slightly confused. It’s like he’s living a dual life here, bro. One week here, one away. And he’s freaked out by the weirdest shit.
Yeah, I don’t understand this one, Max replied as he flipped through the paperwork. It’s a cult like the fifty million others we’ve found in this country. This one, though, was in his personal files along with my personnel file.
Max continued to work through the notes and began to do as much research on them as possible. It was difficult since the cult seemed to be essentially underground, but there was enough data. He ran his finger over the cult name and whispered it aloud. “The Takers.”
He entered the name into the system several times and searched through church archives as well as regular news. His efforts delivered no cult with a name even remotely similar to The Takers. The assignment was to go to the Old Henry R. H. Mill house in the hills outside of London. There, they were to make sure the cult didn’t damn any more people and then eliminate them. The entire group needed to be destroyed since they had become a nuisance for the church and for the civilians whom the church served.
Astaroth sniffed. This doesn’t seem like the kind of place I would want to mess with. In fact, the whole situation is freaky. And whoever these cult members are, they definitely freaked Damian out.
Max released a sigh. I know, but what do you do? I’ll make a list of everything that we will need to be ready for the battle. I have no idea when it will start, but I want to be prepared. I have a feeling that lack of planning or preparation for this is what will get us in the most trouble. Especially now that I am worried about Damian clamming up or that he might have a serious problem with whoever these people are.
Good idea, although I’m sure he will tell you at some point, the demon replied uneasily. He wouldn’t send you in to be massacred.
The duo worked on the current plan set forth by the three Wise Men and Max flipped the radio on to play in the background. The house was eerie and silent most of the time, with the sinister creaks and groans that most old houses had as they settled and shifted. This one was no different, and it had creeped Max out since the first day he moved in there.
He had bought the radio for that exact purpose—to cut the background sounds out so he could focus on his tasks. On that day, though, the device provided more than merely background noise.
The radio host ended the song but immediately went into an emergency broadcast. “News is flooding in at the moment about another demon incursion. This time, there seems to be more to it than only a flood of demons. Starting approximately ten hours ago, several portals were opened in a town in Romania. We have covered that since it began. However, new information has been passed down of a Leviathan sighting in that same location, where the lava has recently ceased to pour from overhead.”
Max paused and turned toward the radio, having missed even the information about the recent incursion. The radio personality continued. “We have spoken to troops on the ground but were unable to immediately ascertain the specific information of the Leviathan. After a call into one of our station’s mercenary contacts, we have confirmed that the name of this beast is Teyollucuani, and she goes by Sasha.”
Astaroth coughed. What?
The priest stood and turned the radio up as the announcer spoke again. “Sasha is apparently a creature that traps humans and devours their souls through a cocoon-like structure. Now, this second part is merely guess-work as they have not been able to get close enough to her to get the full details.”
Astaroth was beside himself. Who woke that bitch up? Seriously, she needed to stay buried forever. Those demons are complete morons. They start a fight, but they don’t know what they are awakening. These Leviathans don’t work for Lucifer. They will kill a demon as quickly as they would a human. And this one gives zero fucks about anything.
How do you know so much about her? Max asked as he turned the volume down once more.
The demon sighed. Long before Sasha was brought here from her dimension, I had a job working with Lucifer in the armies. I was fairly high up there, and he trusted my advice on things. My thoughts were that Sasha would help us, but I soon found out that she only helped herself. She is conniving and evil in ways I could never fully explain to you.
Max rubbed his face. So, Lucifer brought her here?
In a way. And I helped the demon legions trap her. We went to her dimension and offered her luxury and meals. We essentially offered her anything she wanted, because once she was on Earth, she was no longer our problem, he explained. But she was hell-bent on creating her own world. She almost killed me before I could get away from her. Evil turned on evil.
He shook his head. And you left her on Earth?
Yes, and no, Astaroth replied. I jumped a body and helped the humans trap her. I knew when I brought her here that it wasn’t right. No matter how evil I was, she was ten times worse. You see, something I realized is that good versus evil is an oversimplification. We see humans as good and demons as evil, but that is because of His hand protecting you.
He paused as he struggled to find the right words. Sasha feeds off evil, and here on Earth, she had no lack of victims. Like I said, it is rarely the case that it is as simple as good versus evil. There is always more to it than that.
Max groaned and wandered to the window. But that’s because we make it that way. Because everything always has to be so complicated. Or we make it complicated.
True, the demon responded in a thoughtful tone. You have to understand something, and you need to keep this with you as you go through these fights and battles in the future. Things aren’t always black and white. You will not always be faced with decisions where the answers are crystal-clear. Just like in life, there are always caveats to everything. And that truth is no different when you look at beasts like demons or Leviathan. Look at Damian’s friend Katie, for example. She is paired with the Queen of the Damned, yet it’s not black and white.
The priest shook his head. But those are situations that cannot be avoided. Blatant destruction can be.
Think about Damian then. Astaroth went with an example closer to home. He chose to come to this life after being a mercenary. While he was one, he killed hundreds of people—not because he wanted to, but because sometimes that was the best or only option. Now he has to do the same here. It is not merely exorcism or death. There are many factors he has to think about when he decides what comes next.
