by A. L. Mengel
They drove through the French countryside, through green rolling hills and tiny, white houses that dotted the landscape. Every so often, Antoine would look through the window, study the cattle, or admire the colorful palette.
Once back in Lyon, Ramiel sighed as they approached the chateau.
He pulled the car in the expansive, tree -lined driveway and pulled the car in front of the steps. When he cut the engine, he looked over at Antoine, who stared down into his lap.
“You’ve always been so quick to forgive others, Antoine. I see it in you. I’ve seen it since before you were transformed. And that’s a good trait to have. But have you forgiven yourself?”
Darius looked up at Ramiel. He looked back with a warm smile. After a minute, he raised his eyebrows.
Antoine opened the door and looked back at Ramiel as he exited the car. “I’ll be heading there tonight. Giovanni is already gathering the equipment. I’d like you to come. I need you to.”
“I will come.”
Antoine did not have to say anything. He looked at Ramiel, and he smiled and nodded. And then he turned and headed up the front steps. Ramiel followed, slamming the driver’s door behind him. He pressed the lock for the car and the alarm automatically engaged.
When Antoine opened the soaring front doors inwards, there was the smell of cooking. Giovanni appeared almost instantly. “Master! Welcome back! I am making some chicken soup!”
Antoine set his bags down against the wall and started to head down the hallway towards the Master bedroom. Giovanni lunged forward and gently grabbed his arm. “No, master. If we are doing this, and you are going where you are going, we need sustenance. And then we need rest.”
Antoine looked up and over at Ramiel. He nodded slowly.
Antoine shrugged. “Okay.”
Antoine changed his clothes and they convened in the kitchen. Giovanni had three large bowls of soup along with fresh bread in the center of the table. He walked around the chairs pouring hot brewed tea in each of the cups as Antoine sat. Ramiel pulled the chair out opposite him and looked across at Antoine.
Antoine gestured for him to sit.
The three ate in silence and shortly after, Antoine went to the master bedroom to rest, as Giovanni cleared the dishes. Ramiel watched Giovanni run each bowl under the water, washing and drying each piece of china with care, and returning them to the cabinets. He then wiped the countertops, ensuring everything was back in its assigned place.
“You have been quite loyal to Antoine and Darius,” Ramiel said. “Don’t you ever want to go out and find your own way in the world?”
Giovanni turned off the running water and looked back at Ramiel. “This is what I know. This is my home. Why would I want to leave it?”
Ramiel nodded and nursed his cup of steaming tea. “They’ve been good to you.”
Giovanni nodded and joined Ramiel at the table. “I did not know love in my human life. When I was transformed, everything changed. And Antoine and Darius have shown me that love.”
“Antoine cares about you a great deal.”
“He does. And for that, I am eternally grateful.”
*****
AFTER THEY RESTED AND WAITED for the sun to set, they readied themselves without further conversation. Ramiel and Giovanni joined Antoine in the foyer. They proceeded outside without a spoken word.
Antoine locked the front door of the chateau as Giovanni and Ramiel waited at the bottom of the front steps.
The sun was waning in the sky; the dark blues and purples had nearly taken over as the exterior lights snapped on.
The forest at the edge of the property looked uninviting and dark. Antoine joined the others as Ramiel placed his hand on Antoine’s shoulder. “Are you sure about this?”
Antoine nodded. “Certain.”
Giovanni chewed on his lip and watched Antoine with wide eyes. Antoine took a deep breath and looked out towards the thick forest. “It’s time to go.”
Antoine led as the others followed.
There was a certain method to their footsteps; they were quick and determined; their feet crunched through the gravel, and when the gravel gave way to grass, and then gave way to leaves and twigs, their pace remained methodic and steady.
Their silence was interrupted by the call of a loon from deep within the woods.
Antoine looked up and saw the tops of the trees blowing in a light breeze.
Look deep within yourself.
Their feet crunched on the dry, dirty leaves and fallen twigs. The darkness had now permeated the land as the sun had retreated from the sky. Antoine didn’t wish the darkness on others. And he wished he could escape it as well.
The light seemed so far out of reach for so many.
The transgressions were too many; addictions to the physicality of the material world. A feeling – if not a need – to do work that in the end, did not matter. Bank accounts were filled with cash, bills were paid; fantastic homes were built; luxurious vacations were taken.
But what could the answer really be?
Was this – this physical world – all that there was? Was death the ‘end all’ when one were to die in the physical form? Antoine thought of Darius, now buried down below the Earth in his coffin. Would they be able to communicate with him as they had in Miami? Might redemption be found? Could Darius ever come back to the world of the living?
Ramiel stopped ahead and held out his hand. “Do you hear that?”
Antoine looked around the forest. “Hear what?” The same trees stood, reaching upwards, that had been there during the years that he had visited these woods in the past.
“I thought I heard a snap.”
And it was in those years, many years ago now it seemed, that he had run through these same trees, on this very forest floor, escaping Asmodai’s wrath.
“What was that?” Antoine caught up with Ramiel who stood in a clearing and scanned the woods. Antoine stood next to him and looked over at him. “He could be here,” Antoine said. “Legend states that he appears when the winds start blowing, when the moon is high, and the…”
Look deep within yourself.
Antoine stopped walking and looked up and deeper into the forest. He cupped his hand around his ear. Their footsteps stopped crunching in the leaves as Giovanni and Ramiel stopped behind him.
“What is it?” Ramiel asked, looking in the same direction as Antoine.
“It’s around here. We are close.”
Ramiel pointed out a faint blue light in the distance. “And that? Do you know what that is?”
“That’s the entrance,” Antoine said. “There are pale blue lights surrounding the door. Gives off a glow at night.”
Don’t look into my lights…the square lights…for you will certainly go mad.
Antoine winced and closed his eyes. He smacked the side of his head.
Ramiel and Giovanni rushed to his side. “Antoine! What’s wrong?”
He opened his eyes and shook his head. “He’s close. I can feel it.”
“Who’s close?” Ramiel asked as Giovanni stood watching the forest ahead of them, where the lights glowed a pale blue in the distance.
They continued forward through the crunch of the leaves and twigs, heading towards the pale blue light that reflected against the moonlit sky, as Antoine explained. “Back when I resurrected Darius…when he was buried under the tree at Les Enfantes…I conjured up some sort of a ritual that summoned Asmodai.”
“A ritual? You performed a ritual when you resurrected Darius?”
Antoine shook his head. “You know about immortal lore, I’m sure. Sometimes we’re coffin-sentenced. But in the end, yes, we return. But in this case, I freed Darius before his time. And Asmodai was summoned.”
Ramiel nodded. “I had heard about him.”
“He’s one of the core demons,” Antoine said.
“And he has been haunting Antoine ever since,” Giovanni added.
“Ever since then he’s been tormenting me,” Antoine
said. “As if I could settle the score.”
They approached a clearing in the woods.
At the opposite end, towards a network of large trees, was a stone, windowless building with a set of stairs leading downwards into the ground to a small door with an ornate wrought-iron cover. The door itself was also made of stone.
Antoine brought the others over to the entrance.
Ramiel reached out and touched the iron cover. “Is this some sort of a stone mausoleum?”
Antoine banged the pickaxe against the mausoleum lock, sending a shower of sparks down towards the ground. “That’s exactly what it is. Been a kept secret for centuries. Many of our bloodline are buried here.” Giovanni gasped. “Master Antoine! Careful Master Antoine!”
Ramiel stood back and looked on as Antoine continued the assault with the pickaxe. “And the biggest secret is inside.”
Ramiel held Antoine steady as the pickaxe sent another shower of sparks to the ground. The lock gave and fell to the ground, in pieces.
Antoine turned around and looked at the group. “So Monsignor Harrison is saying that a representative needs to go to the other side – to Tartarus – to represent our kind. This is my choice.”
“To Tartarus? How did you know this?” Ramiel asked.
Antoine started pushing against the heavy stone door. “I can feel my power is slowly returning. I can sense it. Delia might be thinking it, not sure. But I can sense that is what we are going to find out in Rome.”
Ramiel stood, arms crossed in front of his chest, eyebrows raised. “And you think you can accomplish this?”
Antoine nodded. “It is my duty. I brought this on to our kind. I must earn our redemption.”
Ramiel helped Antoine push, and the door rumbled open.
Antoine turned around again and smiled. “Are you ready?”
A set of stone steps was revealed that led downward into darkness. Antoine tossed the pickaxe off to the side and gestured for the others to follow him. Once a few steps down, he whistled. “It’s musty down here. Gio, you have the masks?” His voice echoed against the stone.
Giovanni handed out several white masks for each of them. Ramiel fixed his around his head, adjusting his head through the plastic tubing around behind his ears. “Is this really necessary?”
“Better safe than sorry,” Antoine said. “It’s musty and wet. Lots of mildew. Plus rotting corpses. The stench…”
Ramiel scoffed. “We’re immortals, Antoine. This should not affect us.”
There was a deep thud coming from above, sending dirt cascading through cracks in the stone, showering on their heads.
Ramiel’s voice sounded rushed as he brushed the dirt from his hair. “What was that?!”
Antoine, Giovanni and Ramiel all studied the ceiling. The sound most definitely came from above ground.
Then a snap pierced the silence from outside the door.
Antoine closed his eyes and shook his head. “You’ve got to be kidding.”
“What?” Ramiel asked. “What is it?”
Giovanni looked upwards, his eyes wide and mouth hanging open. “Master? Is this…”
Antoine leaned against the side wall. The torch that Giovanni was holding reflected a warm glow on his face. “The same thing happened when I resurrected Darius before. Years ago. Asmodai came.”
Ramiel fidgeted with a brown bag. “You think that is him? Coming for us?”
Antoine shook his head. “I don’t know. We’re not exhuming a body like I did with Darius so long ago. We’re not bringing anyone back to life. I’m not doing any incantation or ceremony like I did before.”
Giovanni started pacing. “Do you think that matters to him?”
Antoine looked up at the ceiling of the mausoleum as the ground rumbled again. “No,” he said. “Asmodai thinks he has a score to settle with me. When I last saw him, I had just resurrected Darius, but I escaped. He still thinks there is a payment due.”
Ramiel grabbed Antoine’s arm. “So is there?! Is there still a payment due?”
Antoine shoved Ramiel’s arm down. “He’s a collector of souls!”
The ground shook again as Antoine eased himself back into the corner.
The ground shook as dirt showered down on their heads again. Antoine looked at Ramiel who glared back at him.
“Will we be safe down there? If we go all the way in?”
Antoine shook his head. “I don’t know, Ramiel.”
The group continued down into the darkness. At the foot of the stairs was a small, square room with walls of stone. They stood in dirt. Antoine looked up the steps. They were deep enough that the pale blue light from outside was no longer visible.
They now only had Giovanni’s torch, which burned weakly, from the low levels of oxygen.
Antoine gestured for the others and led them into a larger room. “This is where Darius now lies,” he said. “He is with the other members of the blood ancestry who have passed as mortals.”
Ramiel joined Antoine who held the torch over the wooden coffins that lined the walls. “So wait a minute…you mean this assault on our kind has happened before?”
“Many times,” he said. “The Hooded Man is not a new phenomenon.”
“So why wouldn’t Klemmson know this?”
Antoine ran his hands over one of the coffin lids. There was a large cross carved into the wood. “Oh, I imagine he does.”
Old, wooden caskets lined the opposite side of the mausoleum, each tucked into a cubby. Some were sealed with stone, others were not. Antoine stood and honed in on the center and then gave the torch back to Giovanni. He drew it close to the small, wooden coffin. But that coffin was not the crumbling wooden box that Darius had been buried in years ago. It was not the same watery grave under the giant oak tree. And the cemetery did not fill up with demons.
Had it?
Antoine spoke with wide eyes fixated on Darius’ casket. “No, Ramiel, no. Asmodai has been chasing after me for years. I thought that after I was burned at the altar that payment was rendered!”
“No, you fool! He wants your soul! He will take nothing less!”
There was another rumble, closer this time. The caskets rumbled in their crypts as some dirt fell through cracks in the ceiling.
“He is waiting for you! And he will stop at nothing to get it!” Ramiel said.
There was a deep thud as Giovanni gasped. He looked over at Antoine with wide eyes. “Is the ceiling going to cave in?! Are we going to be buried alive?!”
Ramiel stood and placed his arm around Giovanni. “Come and sit. Next to Antoine and I.” Giovanni looked over at Antoine. “Antoine? Who is this Asmodai? Is it who you think it is?”
Antoine leaned his head back. “He’s the protector of everything evil. The demon of lust.”
“The devil’s right hand,” Ramiel said.
Antoine raised his eyes towards the ceiling and shook his head. “There was always a certain way he came,” Antoine said. “Through the trees. With heavy footsteps that shook the Earth. Branches would snap. Whole trees would topple over. And the winds would roar.”
Antoine didn’t look at the caskets on the opposite wall. He hung his head down between his knees, down towards his feet, and closed his eyes. He attempted to ignore the rumbles in the ground; he tried to ignore the falling of the dirt in between the ceiling cracks.
But in his mind he wasn’t there.
He wasn’t in the mausoleum.
He was in Les Enfantes.
He was lying in his maker’s grave.
He could still smell the stench and feel the wet, cold water at the base underneath the coffin.
Back then, it had been so simple.
When Darius had died then, he simply placed him in a plain wooden, quite simple coffin and buried him underground. Now, that Darius had passed as a mortal, a human, it was more difficult. His heart was no longer beating. His body would rot, and could not regenerate.
But that did not matter.
The shaking
stopped.
After a few minutes of silence, Ramiel looked at Antoine. “Shall we continue?”
Antoine took a deep breath and exhaled. He hoisted himself up to his feet and looked over at the coffins. Each casket was neatly placed in a square cubby; lengthwise as the head of the deceased was deepest inside the opening, and the end of the casket handles were in view. “Should I just pull the casket out?” Antoine asked. He looked back at Ramiel, who gestured his hand. Giovanni sprang to his feet and dashed over to Antoine’s side, still holding the torch. He shined the light towards the coffin. “I must help you,” he said. “You shouldn’t do this alone.”
Antoine looked at the casket and shook his head. “I don’t think I can do this.” He looked back at Ramiel. “Can you help me? Darius is inside. But what we are coming for is behind the coffin.”
*****
Back in Rome, Delia gasped.
“We have a problem, your highness.” She whispered across the room. The High Council was conferring to their notes. Delia waved at him where he sat near the conference table. Monsignor Harrison was reading through a yellow legal pad filled with handwritten notes, which Delia had given him after the first day of his trial. He slowly flipped the pages up as Delia got up and walked over to him. She poked him in his arm. “Monsignor!”
Startled, he dropped the pad and looked at Delia. “What is it?”
She leaned in close to his ear. “We’ve gotten word that Antoine and Ramiel have joined forces.”
The Monsignor shook his head. “I don’t understand. Joined forces? Against whom?”
“Not against,” she said. “For.”
Delia stooped down and looked up at the cardinals. They were still conferring amongst each other. She knew that Antoine was trying to access the portal. She knew he wanted to take on the task of redemption alone.
She also knew that Daius was buried in that same mausoleum. And she knew that Antoine had always been connected to Darius in some form or another, even in death. Would he try to exhume him? Attempt to resurrect him?
But at this point in the juncture, she felt she agreed with the Monsignor, when they had spoken earlier. That Darius should be left to rest. There should be no more incantations, or spells, or anything else that would get Hell’s Angels back on their backs. Wasn’t it enough to have demons chasing them after Antoine resurrected Darius the first time, years ago?
