Vito glared up at the American flags that hung from the walls high above on both sides of the Nave. He looked at them in undisguised disgust, he wasn’t much of a fan of Americans, he’d been forced to deal with them for a full day now and it had started to wear a little thin. Their loud grating accent and forceful, egotistical nature was guaranteed to put you off your lunch.
So far in his career in the Church he had managed to avoid coming to the States, but now as a fully-fledged Inquisitor, it was inevitable he would end up being sent here at some point. He could think of worse places to go, places where you took your life into your hands just by being there, places where war, famine, death and disease where everywhere. The world had plenty of areas like that, where the true horror of human nature was laid bare for all to see, but for some reason Vito hated the USA the most.
It seemed to think it ruled the world, that it had become the rightful king and heir to the globe and every nation upon it. It felt it could impose its own values upon other countries and religions, and make them into carbon copies of itself. The politicians went on about freedom and democracy and crushing the evils of the world, but it seemed to Vito that maybe the country should turn its gaze inwards and look in the mirror once in a while.
Crushing or converting the heathen nations of Islam had always been a worthy goal, of that he was in agreement, but not if it meant the USA ruled the world, even if it did claim to be a Christian nation.
The United States, a young country, a baby in fact, needed to learn a little humility when it dealt with Europe and the cradle of civilisation. It should show respect to its elders.
He turned his mind to the task at hand and resolved to see it though as swiftly but as thoroughly as possible. It was the only thing to do, get it done quickly, but done right so he wouldn’t have to come back here because he made a mess of something due to going too quickly. He guessed he would end up having to engage in conversation with some Americans during this time, which would be something he would just have to put up with he guessed.
The Cardinal had been most friendly towards him, and Vito found his accent to be acceptably soft so that it didn’t grate too much when he spoke. Vito felt grateful for small mercies.
It didn’t seem too long ago now that Grand Inquisitor Mary Damask had called Vito into her office in the Vatican and outlined what his mission would be in New York.
He gathered up the manila file on the pew next to him and opened it up, glancing at the description of the girl he had to find.
‘Female, seventeen or eighteen years old, long red or bright auburn hair, slim and athletic.’
The red hair sounded fairly distinctive; he hoped this wouldn’t take too long. He glanced over the mission once more, he had to investigate a report that a local resident had seen the Red-Head attacked in an alleyway by what the witness called a ‘demon’. The witness’s apartment had been opposite the alleyway, and she had watched as the girl had thrown lightning at the demon, destroying it. The resident had reported this to her local priest, the police not believing her story, and the report had made it back to the Vatican.
Vito had flown out of Rome yesterday, and now Vito felt ready to head out into the night. The Cardinal had treated Vito very well, and as a visiting dignitary from the Vatican, Vito’s every wish had been granted.
The Cardinal didn’t know too much about Vito or the highly secretive Vatican group he represented, he only knew what Vito had told him, which wasn’t strictly true. He had said he was part of the Congregation for the Doctrine of the Faith, the oldest office in the Roman Curia.
In truth he belonged to a much older organisation within the Catholic Church, one that remained highly secretive and unknown to the rest of the world. Only the office of the Pope, his superior, and his most trusted Cardinals, the Popes inner circle, knew of the Disciples of the Cross and their mission.
Vito stood up from where he sat on the pew, gathered his bag to him and carefully excused himself from the church, passing the tourists that stood around admiring the architecture. He made disapproving sounds as he passed people clicking away with cameras and eventually headed outside into the cool night air through the huge ornate doors.
The night felt cool but dry, the air fresh tonight, the smog seeming to have lifted a little from the metropolitan area. Although still quite early, the night had closed in, its black shroud pulled over the sky. The street lights and neon glowed brightly in the dark, lighting the way for the pedestrians below them. New York’s busy traffic being the one thing that reminded Vito of Rome and the crazy traffic on the Italian capitals cramped streets. Much like home, you took your life into your hands as you stepped out onto New York’s streets, but the colours were different here, in Rome there were more stone and traditional building colours, here it looked all Blue and grey as the modern sky scrapers reached for the sky. In the caverns that surrounded them the yellow cabs rushed around like the amber blood of some great metallic monster. Into this maelstrom Vito stepped, pulling his collar up and his coat closer to him.
It would be a fairly long walk to the district where the attack had taken place, and as he moved away from broadway and the tourist centres the quality of life become visibly lower. The buildings here were run down or empty with smashed windows and graffiti daubed upon the walls.
He caught his reflection in the darkened glass of the shop fronts as he passed by them, and felt happy that he seemed to blend in fairly well to the background.
Although only thirty three years old, he easily looked to be in his forties. Thin and wiry and a little over average height, He kept his dark hair cropped close to his head, he preferred it that way. After a Witch had pulled at his hair and ripped out a fist full of it on an early mission, he had quickly cut it right down so he wouldn’t have to endure that indignity again. He wore a tan trench coat and neutral trousers with a dull shirt and shoes, the coat billowing out behind him as he strode along the sidewalk.
As he went he made sure he moved like a local and kept a low profile. He kept his eyes forward and didn’t look up or down. Look up and you’re a tourist, look down and you look weak, either way you’re a victim. So Vito looked straight ahead, but never met anyone’s eyes, that might be taken as a challenge, something Vito really didn’t have the time to get involved with.
In his training Vito had learnt a lot about how to walk the streets and remain unnoticed. Keeping a low profile was important in what he did, apart from anything else he had a job to do and the Church didn’t want to be paying for things they didn’t have too. Besides, the press crucified the church each time they caught even a whiff of a scandal, a priest caught with weapons on his person would look very bad indeed.
Finally he turned onto the street he he’d been looking for and paused to take it in. He had entered the Red Light District a short distance back and had already been propositioned by the packs of girls that hung around here, and this street seemed no different.
It looked quite dark, the street lights not working too well, some of them smashed altogether, the black buildings seemed to lean in a little bit, each one looked imposing and half of them looked like they needed renovating. Most of the residents here probably stayed in their rooms at night, locked the doors with the half dozen dead bolts they had and prayed they would wake up in the morning.
The street looked to be bustling with pedestrians at first glance, but it became clear from a second look that half of these people were women dressed in grubby miniskirts, stockings, high heels, and small jackets as some kind of meagre defence against the cold. The ladies looked very much like Vito expected they would do. Apart from the odd one, most looked quite haggard, their eyes dark and tired framed by hair that appeared lank and often bleached. Most of the girls here were probably hooked on some kind of drugs, Crack or Heroin perhaps.
Vito wasn’t sure whether he pitied them or hated them, they stood for the very moral decay that the church stood so utterly against. Each one dressed in tight or revealing clothing sho
wing off their wares to anyone who cared to look. Vito didn’t have much time for compassion when it came to this scum, there were plenty of clergy who did spend their time with people like this, but Vito wasn’t one of them.
Across from him stood the entrance to what he thought could be the alleyway where the woman said she saw the occurrence. Vito stepped back into the shadow of the wall closest to him and pulled out the scrap of paper he had made some notes on double checking his location. Looking again, his first thoughts had been right, that was indeed the alleyway.
He slipped the paper back into his bag and crossed the street towards the alleyway. At it’s entrance he stopped to look back to see if he could spot the apartment from which the woman had most likely seen the incident, but he couldn’t be sure which it might be, it could have been any of four or five windows. He had the address, but hoped he wouldn’t need to go knocking on their door.
He noticed the Prostitutes were further along the street towards the middle of the block, not too close to the alleyway. The attack had probably made them move further down, away from the alleyway and the creepy feeling he felt here.
The Vatican had managed to get hold of the NYPD report into the death of a local pimp in the alleyway as well, but there had been no witnesses to the event other than the woman whose evidence had been deemed unreliable due to her insistence on the fantastical nature of the attack.
Vito looked in the other direction, away from the prostitutes in time to see 2 more streetwalkers come out of a corner shop carrying drinks bottles. Vito smiled to himself as he understood that the girl had probably been heading to the shop when she’d been pulled into the alleyway by the beast the witness had seen.
Vito stepped into the opening of the alleyway that looked just wide enough to fit a car or something down. Further in, the alleyway actually widened out before thinning down again and turning a corner. It looked dark down here, no lights really reached inside so that everything sat veiled in shadows. Along the sides of the alleyway boxes and refuse bags were scattered about the place, piled up here and there where they had been dumped. A couple of large square metal bins on casters, nearly as tall as Vito, overflowed with rubbish. Even though it wasn’t raining, water still drained down the sides of the buildings through guttering creating puddles here and there, dark and irregular in shape.
Further in now, Vito turned and looked back up the alleyway. Over the road he could now only see a couple of apartments that might be the one the witness lived in. They had a clear view down here, and if they turned their lights off they would see Vito stood here easily enough. Vito turned back to the scene before him, looking at the physical remains of the attack.
A pile of debris and a partial hole in the wall were off to his right, boarded up from the inside with the remains of Police tape around it where they had cordoned it off. The tape hung limply now, fluttering in the slight breeze. Then he saw the burn mark on the wall close to the debris. This must be where the creature had been hit by the lightning.
No doubt the police forensics had been over it once with a dead body having been found here, so Vito decided to start with a more esoteric investigation.
So far Vito had been on his guard, keeping his God given insight closed off from the world around him and the dark magical energies that would no doubt be here, but now he needed to use his gift.
Vito stood up straight and closed his eyes, raising his face to the heavens he spread his arms out and called upon God to show him what had happened here.
Vito felt his mind opening up to the feelings in this place. There seemed to be some sort of residual energy here, a powerful feeling of something wrong. Slowly the impression of a girl began to form in his mind. Not an image as such, but a feeling of a human presence, a feminine presence. This must have been the girl that had been attacked. Then he began to get some feelings from the girl as well, to get some kind of impression of her state of mind. The sensation came on quickly as he felt the utter terror this girl had felt, she been scared out of her mind, and hurt as well. She didn’t seem to really understand what had been happening to her at first, but when she saw the thing that had attacked her, she’d been scared to death.
That’s when the thing that attacked her muscled in on Vito’s senses. He felt a wave of darkness wash over him, and the slowly strengthening vision of the girl faded to nothing as this other presence pushed itself into Vito’s head. Whoever, or whatever this thing might be, it felt ancient and hoary. It had a malevolence to it, and hatred that filled its every fibre of being. It seemed to desperately want to kill the girl, it needed to do this, and its mind felt utterly consumed by this mission. This wasn’t just some random girl it had picked off the street, this felt like a vendetta. This thing knew the girl and had sought her out specifically, its deep seated rage at her felt extremely powerful and quite overwhelming, but Vito needed more. It seemed odd to him that this thing would come here to pick a young Prostitute off the street and attack her. The girl seemed ordinary enough from the brief impression he got of her and certainly didn’t know who or what this thing was that wanted to kill her. She had no idea that these things even existed in the world, which meant that the thing had been mistaken or misled in some way.
Vito tried to focus on the things mind, its thoughts where chaotic, they all seemed to be about this girl and the unutterable things it wanted to do to her, but beyond that, there seemed to be little order to them and no stability. Its thoughts swirled about this things mind in a crazy torrent of impulse and fury. Vito had read thoughts like this many times before and he knew madness when he saw it, which to Vito’s mind explained the things feelings towards girl, it sounded like a case of mistaken identity. If this thing was as old as Vito suspected, maybe the girl might be an unknowing descendant of someone it had once known.
Whatever the case, Vito would still need to find her. From the eyewitness account, she sounded like a witch, which meant she needed to be educated about the true path.
As he thought about this, the impression he’d been getting from the creature changed, his mind reached further back, getting an impression of where this thing had come from. As Vito went with the flow of these images, he began to get sensations from the demons memory. This place felt hot, very hot, the sun rose high in the sky and the ground felt loose, it gave way beneath him as each foot fell.
It had been walking on sand, soft pliable sand, and it was everywhere. This thing had come from a desert somewhere, but Vito needed more, this wasn’t enough, he needed more detail, more to go on, there were too many vast deserts in the world.
Vito pushed again with his mind, looking further back in time, trying to find something specific. He found himself flying over dunes of featureless sand, endless dunes of amber waves that were frozen in time. Suddenly, on a rocky plateau, a black cave yawned before Vito’s mind’s eye, and before he could slow things down he plunged into the darkness and the cool depths of a tomb.
Rooms passed him by in the gloom, walls and doorways looming in from the shadows. The vision slowed at the doorway to the next room, the slab of stone that had sealed it lay flat on the ground before the portal. Vito cringed as he saw two sets of bloody scratches run the length of the slab where someone had resisted being pulled into the room with their nails. Nails which had snapped off under the pressure and now littered the back of this slab.
Vito grew apprehensive about the room and what he might find inside, but his subconscious pushed him on and his mind’s eye entered the room.
The scene of carnage within felt intense, broken bodies spread upon the floor at wrong angles with limbs and things missing or spread around the room. Vito had seen enough, he began to pull out from the vision now, and as his mind began to regress, he saw one last thing in the tomb, words, written on the wall over Egyptian hieroglyphics. Three words written in blood which read, she will pay, and another set of words, carved into the same wall, Do not lift the Slab. Horlack Lies within.
Vito snapped back into the alle
yway and staggered briefly as his mind adjusted to his surroundings again. It had been a powerful vision, and a useful one, but not as useful as he had wanted it to be. He still hadn’t seen the girl yet, and he needed to find out who she was.
In the meantime Vito pulled out his pen and pad and began to note down all he had seen in the vision while it still remained fresh in his memory. From what he had seen, it had been an archaeological dig in Egypt that must have disturbed this thing. They had woken it up and had paid for that with their lives, and Vito had got the impression that this had happened recently.
Vito had been lucky, it was rare to get such great information from a scrying like that, but this demon had been out of its mind with rage which meant it had not been careful nor had it tried to hide its passage. Vito hoped that with a little leg work he would be able to find a report of this dig that had gone horribly wrong.
As he finished noting down his memories and his conclusions so far, Vito turned back to the huge black burn mark on the wall to his right. It extended from the ground to at least twelve or fifteen feet high, and if he had to guess, he thought it might be the charred remains of the demon where it had been blasted by the girls Magic. Vito knew he would find this here from the police report, but Vito had methods the Police didn’t. He stepped forward, reached out with his hand, and he called upon God to aid him once more.
As his hand neared the mark he felt that by now familiar dark presence coming from the remains on the wall. Vito didn’t really care to feel that hatred again and he pulled his hand back. Instead, after closing off his mind he took out a Petri dish and scraped some of the residue into it, then replaced the lid and carefully returned it to his bag for later analysis.
In the meantime, Vito turned back to the alleyway again and decided he would see if he could get an image of this girl this time. He steeled himself, took hold of the cross about his neck and closed his eyes. For the third time tonight Vito let the power of God flood into him and he concentrated on getting an image of the victim that would be of use. He felt the fear and terror of the girl once again, powerful against the demons rage. Vito focused on the girl, concentrated his thoughts upon her and tried to fix an image of her in his mind, but the rage and hate of the demon overwhelmed his mind once more.
Magi Saga 1: Epic Calling Page 10
