by Mark Tufo
Louis closed his eyes and let out a long, slow breath and lifted his bible again but nearly dropped it. He was exhausted. Gently, I took it from his grasp and spoke, lifting him with a guiding hand toward the door.
“There is a room set up for you next door, my Lord. Go wash up and take a nap. I will not leave her side even for a moment.” I said.
Louis seemed torn and I squeezed his shoulder, reassuringly, nodding that it was okay. He appeared to give in, then. He knew that he could not stay awake much longer and accepted that he needed help. His companion stayed up with him guarding the door and I looked over at him, too.
“You go with your Lord and clean up. Take a nap and come back when you have had sufficient rest.”
The man looked over at Louis and Louis nodded, dismissing him from his post. Hesitantly, the companion gave a small bow then turned to go. Louis leaned forward and kissed his sister’s brow before turning to me once more.
“It’s alright” I said, “Father Dulante will be up after boys’ choir to look in on her as well. We will both be here to sit with her.”
That seemed to make it all the more convincing for Louis and he offered a weak smile. He knew Father Dulante would protect his sister with his life, just as he did long ago. He gathered some of his things and lifted up his bible before pausing. Staring down at it, the tears welled in his eyes and his jaw clenched to keep them from shedding, yet again. He set the bible on her bed beside her and took a deep breath before turning to leave.
“Thank you” he said to me. His voice was soft and humble as he added, “I’ll be back very shortly.”
“No thanks are necessary.” I said, smiling up at him.
Louis exited and I waited a moment before I took a small vial from my pouch. It was the water that the Lord had served me in my room this morning. Watching the door, I dabbed a few drops on Isabel’s forehead and around her bed before I sat beside her and very gently pressed the remaining drops to her lips.
As soon as the water hit her tongue she opened her eyes and smiled weakly. A soft sigh escaped her lips, then she closed her eyes again for a moment. Talking was a task for her in this state as she began to collect her thoughts.
“I needed that.” She finally mustered up, “I was so thirsty.”
I smiled down at her and brushed the hair from her face. Even now she was so beautiful. Her eyes were dark but her skin still held its natural glow. I remember thinking that she was much like the Madonna with her head tilted to the side the way it was right now.
I was about to speak when the presence of Father Raphael was felt again. I turned to look at the door and came face to face with the priest. My stomach felt ill like I would lose my bowels at any moment and my features deepened into a look of anger. Creatures such as myself cannot stand evil even in human form.
Father Raphael stared up into my eyes and smiled but it was not a natural smile; it never reached his eyes. It was plastered there coldly on his face before he turned her gaze down to Isabel.
“Good morning, Isabel. It’s good to see you’re awake.” He said.
I was staring sternly at Father Raphael and started to move between him and Isabel when Isabel suddenly hissed and growled. The sound was feral and foreign coming from her. When I turned to look at her, her eyes were narrowed and she was clenching her teeth at him.
I moved to try calming her down, shoving past Father Raphael. Just as I reached for Isabel, she ripped one of the binds from the leather strap and smashed me in the side of the head with Louis’ bible.
The blow was so strong that I stumbled and fell into the end table beside her, knocking the bowl of water over. Shaking my head I stared at Isabel who was spitting out obscenities at the priest while making vulgar motions with her hands.
I was completely stunned but Father Raphael did not seem surprised at all. He just stood there watching her as she writhed on the bed. Her hand was reaching for her skirts and lifting them up along her legs until she exposed herself to the priest.
I thrust myself at Isabel again, pinning her beneath me and pulling her skirts down as much as I could. She only laughed and craned her head around the side of mine to continue her obscene verbal lashing at Father Raphael.
“Why do you touch the little boys, Father?!” she yelled. “Are you afraid to fuck a woman?” she cackled and began to undulate beneath me.
I was flush with embarrassment but I continued to pin her arm down and retie the straps that kept her down. Once I had her retied she lunged toward me and tried to take a bite out of my cheek. I felt the graze of her teeth along my skin but moved just in time.
I fell back on the floor beside her bed in shock and my eyes were wide with fear as I stared at this horrible transformation of such a gentle woman. Father Raphael’s steps were heard as he came around the side of Isabel’s bed into my peripheral vision.
“I want her restrained. She’s suffering from dementia.” He said plainly.
The two nuns that always accompanied Father Raphael nodded and turned mechanically to comply. I could not move, I was completely frozen where I sat. This could not be happening.
Father Raphael turned his head slowly to gaze down at me before he slid his fingers gently along Isabel’s cheek. In horror I watched as she nuzzled his fingers and laughed at me.
He stepped back and the two nuns returned with a leather mask and shackles. I stood up to protest but felt hands along my arms pulling me back. Two unknown, older priests were restraining me as well!
Isabel was retied and the new shackles put in place before they began to place the mask over her eyes. She let out a horrible scream that made my whole spine seem to melt. Even the boys’ choir stopped. Her scream left the monastery silent for only a few seconds but those few seconds felt like eternity before I heard Louis’ shouts.
He appeared at the door and lunged for Father Raphael. The priest slammed against the wall and growled at Isabel’s brother before shoving him back into the crowd of priests that now began to filter in. The men held Louis back as the two exchanged words.
“Are you mad?!” Father Raphael growled.
“You will not get away with this!” Louis shouted as he pulled himself from the grasp of the priests.
“This is a church matter, Louis. Surely, you do not wish me to have you removed.” The priest hissed at him.
Louis threw the men off him again and his companion burst through the door to assist him with sword drawn. Louis raised a hand to still him, knowing Father Raphael’s pull with the Pope.
“It’s alright Felipe. We are gentlemen and shall handle this with civility.” Louis said.
It was a long, tense moment before Father Raphael finally dismissed the other priests. The ones behind me released me from their grasp and I turned to watch them go. Louis and Felipe were still tense and Felipe’s hand was still resting on the hilt of his weapon when Father Raphael grinned at the three of us casually walking toward the door and exiting. His whistle echoed through the hallways.
Isabel was still being restrained as the priests began escorting Louis and his companion back to their room. He continued to struggle with them, pushing them off as he shouted, “I’m not leaving her side!”
The two nuns that were restraining Isabel sneered and shouted back at him, “We must clean her and redress her wounds. You cannot be in here!”
Louis was not hearing any of it, until Miriam came rushing through them all. “What is it? What has happened?”
The steam left Louis’ fight slightly when she showed up, his hand extended toward his sister, “She has gone into fits of rage again.” He turned and paced toward the hallway before trying to rush through the crowd of priests who quickly deterred him, once again. Louis let out a growl and Felipe was growing restless to use his sword, but waited like a patient and faithful comrade for the command.
Miriam’s hand reached out for Louis’ placing it within her own, “I’ll stay with her. It’s OK. I’ll stay and watch her.” She waited for his eyes to rest on
hers before she continued her reassurance. “I will make sure she is tended to, my Lord.”
Louis was still pressing against the barricade of robes but slowly backing down. I stood there in the doorway, ready to assist him should he choose to wage war on the cluster of strange priests who seemed to come from nowhere. I’d never seen their faces before that day. Louis backed away slowly, keeping his deathly gaze upon the robed man in front of him in silent warning. Felipe and I followed his lead, and I gave Miriam a backward glance as we made our way back into the hallway, letting her know that should she need us, we would be there.
Louis paced down the hallway, wearing a path in the stone. Exhaustion was eating away at his patience and his wit. Each time we tried to get him to rest, he would be roused from it to rush to Isabel’s side again. I realized then, it was intentional. He was being worn down, on purpose. Getting him to rest now would be nearly impossible. The truth was, they were all tired and being worn down. I had to finally admit that I was part of that group, too.
It felt like hours, though it was only 30 minutes, before the door to Isabel’s room opened. The twin nuns exited and paused. Eerily, they moved in sync with one another as if they shared one mind, and one thought. The two glanced back at our small group and I could see their eyes for a brief glimpse were not human. They wanted me aware. Knowing that I was, they smiled and turned back toward the opposite direction, continuing down the hall.
I stood up a little too quickly, drawing the attention of Louis and Felipe and rushed toward Isabel’s room. The two felt the urgency and followed quickly behind. Father Dulante came around the corner just as I reached the doorway and saw the look of concern on our drawn faces before he, too, rushed over.
“What is it, Marciel?” He whispered, quietly. “Is she alright?”
His eyes dropped from mine to the door where my hand was, waiting with anticipation for me to open it so that he could see for himself the answer to his question. I did not make him wait. I turned the knob and entered cautiously and without making hardly any noise in case she was asleep. It was important, now more than ever, that we all rested as much as possible.
Isabel was lying peacefully in bed with clean clothing and dressings. I started to smile as I continued inward but it melted away when I saw Miriam lying on the floor. Louis rushed past me to Isabel’s side, protectively but kept his eyes on the fallen sister. I went down beside her and grabbed her hand, the warmth was a welcome to my fears. Father Dulante was torn on where to go first, but seeing Louis had Isabel, he rushed to Miriam’s side and pressed his fingers to her neck, feeling for a pulse.
“It’s weak but she’s alive.” He said, frowning more deeply as he made further assessment of her condition. Felipe whispered something under his breath and stood by the door. His hand reached for something on his belt and I could see it was a small book attached to a chain. He wore a miniature bible, and I thought how brilliant that was..and how like us angels, he seemed.
Father Dulante spoke up again, “Let’s get her to a chair and off the floor. Ready?”
He waited until I nodded and we lifted her up and sat her down. Father Dulante held her head in his hands and patted her cheek as he looked at her closely, hoping to see her eyes open.
“Miriam?” He looked so determined and frightened. His hand pat her cheek a little more firmly, “Miriam!”
His shouts finally roused her and she wobbled her head slightly before her eyes opened and she gasped, pushing against the chair like she’d just come out of a nightmare. Father Dulante held onto her firmly and I clutched her hand again.
“It’s alright, Miriam.” I said, “We’re right here. It’s alright!”
It took her a moment to get her bearings and to focus on us before she finally calmed down and broke into sobs. I released her hand only to snatch a clean towel off the table in order to gently dab it at her lip which was split and bruised to a deep crimson purplish color. It had swollen to nearly double its size and looked extremely painful. She confirmed this by flinching at the slightest touch.
“Who did this to you!” Louis finally barked out.
Miriam looked at him with fearful eyes and glanced at Isabel. Even the suggestion made Louis’ face twist into fear and confusion. Isabel was lying there as if she’d not moved in days. His knees were weakened and he slowly went into a chair beside her, staring at her.
“I don’t understand.” He said. “How?”
He turned his gaze back onto Miriam. The fear and frustration blended away into guilt as he looked upon her injuries again. He turned to me, then Father Dulante who’d he’d known most of his life and pleaded for understanding.
“What is happening, Marco?”
Father Dulante shook his head silently. He had no words to offer. None that would ease any of Louis’ worry. Ashamed of his helplessness, he turned and tried to find redemption by tending to Miriam’s injuries. Handing him the rag, I stood and moved toward Isabel’s side to check on her. Though she lie so still, her eyes moved rapidly behind her lids which had now begun to sink in from lack of sleep and nourishment.
“We must find a way to get your sister to eat, my Lord.” I sat in the other chair, opposite of him trying to figure out when we’d be able to accomplish that between her violent outbursts and her lapsing into a deep, nightmare-filled sleep.
Time was slow and dreadful that day. Shadows grew longer along the wall and the sunlight gave in to the inevitable dusk. The three of us moved about like ghosts, barely speaking a word as we took turns tending to Isabel and trying to capture a few light naps in between shifts. Finally, as night approached, I resolved to pressing issue that lingered in my thoughts. I still needed to write. I needed privacy to do it, though. I gave out a light sigh and stood, facing them.
“My Lord, I beg your permission to take my leave for a while? I have some duties to tend to, and I’d like to clean up some.”
Louis looked up and struggled with the decision. I could feel his hesitancy to relieve me, but he nodded. “Granted.”
I gave a slight bow and turned to leave when he called after me, “Marciel, please return quickly. And be safe.”
I offered another bow, “Yes, my Lord.”
Straightening up again, I saw that his eyes never left Isabel and I nodded to the other three who stood rigidly. I knew the fear. Splitting up was not a favorable plan at the moment, but I had a duty to God, and to Isabel to commit everything to word and parchment.
I went to the door and opened it, then slipped out into the dark hallway on my way back to my chambers. After a few steps I realized that it had grown unusually cold and my flesh began to crawl with chill. Tucking my hands further into the bell of my sleeves, I quickened my pace and hurried on my way before I began to hear something, or someone, following me. Turning my head over my shoulder, I could not see more than a few inches from my face. Every torch was burnt out leaving me to find my way along the cold, black shadows that suddenly felt alive.
The crawling sensation I felt was no longer just the chill but something among the darkness that encompassed me. I jerked away, only to fall into the wall. To the left of me, something whispered my name and its cold breath washed over my ear. I lurched forward and fell to the ground scraping my knees as I crawled further away from whatever was there. I had no sense of direction, I just kept going before I suddenly ran into a pair of legs.
My shaky hands felt around for shoes or feet, but there were none. What I felt were hooves! At the single touch of fur at my fingertips, I cried out and flew back, again. It was madness! I was tossing myself back and forth against the walls from one point of danger to the next.
“Who is there?” I yelled out. In the back of my mind I hoped that someone would hear me and open their door or come rushing this way. I had nothing of the angelic soldiering I once had left within me, I had discovered. I was a trembling wreck.
No, I was wrong. I had one last weapon. Gripping my rosary in my grasp, I shoved it out toward the dark and shouted, “Oh
Divine Father, Eternal Father in Heaven, in union with your Divine Son and Holy Spirit, I beg you to destroy your enemies beneath the might of your hand!”
A flash of light filled the hallway and blinded me before the concussion of its explosion threw me to yet another wall. The short glimpse I had of what was around me was horrific. Demons of every kind screeched as they were repelled by the light, and sent skittering and scratching against the stone back to the solace of the dark. In the absence of the light once more, the darkness was more potent. My eyes were still adjusting and I was trying to regain my footing when my throat was constricted within the grasp of an overpowering hand.
I tried to scream out. The sudden pressure of weight pushed the air from my lungs. I was struggling to breathe and to move away from the attack until I heard Father Raphael’s voice in my ear. I could feel his teeth press against my skin as he spoke, searing my skin with his touch. His saliva was like acid, blistering my skin causing me to choke out small cries of pain.
“You weak, pathetic, bag of flesh. Do you think can save them? Save Her? She is mine now. Our Father cannot save her, and nor can you. If you try, I will slay you, and the rest like lambs to the slaughter.”
I fumbled for the rosary again, but he pushed harder. I could smell the sulfur on his breath, burning my lungs with what little oxygen was allowed within them. I could not see him. I could only writhe and struggle, blindly. He laughed before slamming my head into the stone behind it.
“They will suffer greatly, Marciel. Your weakness is growing. Your wings are gone. Your sword is gone. You are nothing. He has forsaken you, too. And you will die for him like the rest.”
His words stung, emblazing the doubt on my heart and my soul. He was right. I was just a man. I was no match for Lucifer. Once my brother, now set out to destroy me, I could do nothing as he released his grip on my throat but crumple at his feet.
“Take him to his room and lock him in. He does not eat or drink without my permission.” Father Raphael’s command reached into the darkness.
