Carnacki: Heaven and Hell

by William Meikle

  “Menzies laughed, but there was little humour in it.

  “‘I have requested help from the Museum, but as of yet I have had no response, and I’m afraid my gaffers cannot afford to wait on the whims of the scientific community.

  “‘But why do the men fear it so?’ I asked. ‘It is only, after all, an ancient skeleton?’

  “‘It is more than that Mr. Carnacki sir,’ he replied. ‘Much more. She whispers. Listen. Just listen.’

  “At first all I could hear was the sound of our own breathing and the soft shuffle of our feet in the dirt on the floor. I was about to dismiss his story as the mere fancies of a man unused to the sight of death, even at this distance removed, when I heard it.

  “It started as the merest sigh, then I began to make out words.

  “‘It’s gobbledy-gook I’m afraid,” Menzies said softly at my side, but I shushed him away, for I knew better than that. I recognized some of the phrases, and the very sound sent a deep chill through my spine.

  “O caput mortuum impero tibi per vivium Serpentem

  “Kerub impero tibi per Adam

  “Aquila impero tibi per alas Tauri.

  “Serpens impero tibi per Angelum et Leonem.

  “It was an invocation to The Serpent, an ancient ritual that I knew well for it is laid out in detail in the Sigsand MS. And well I knew its purpose.

  “In accompaniment to the chant the walls of the chamber seemed to beat, as in time with a giant heart.

  “‘We should leave Mr. Carnacki,’ Menzies said, grabbing at my arm. ‘Afore it gets bad.’

  “And I’m afraid I had to concur, although you chaps will think it a dashed bad show. But if what I remembered from Sigsand was correct, then I was going to require substantial defences before I could even begin to consider tackling what was down in that chamber.

  “I did however have enough presence of mind for one thing that I knew would be important. Despite his protestations I had Menzies lean low over the lid of the stone box so that I might better see what was carved there.

  “I found what I sought. Cunningly engraved in stone designed to resemble intertwined snakes was an inscription. Translated from the Latin it read as follows.

  “Here lies Pygea. Let her rot.

  “Menzies was more insistent now, grabbing my sleeve and pulling hard. Dust fell from the stone above us as the whole structure pulsed. Menzies abandoned his attempts to drag me away and left for the ladder at a run. As I turned to follow I caught one last glance down into the still-open sarcophagus. Shadows writhed and flowed.

  “It was almost as if there was a whole nest of vipers, crawling all over the body.

  “Well, we climbed up out of there sharpish I can tell you, and although Menzies attempted to maintain a calm demeanour in front of the workmen, I could see that the experience had shaken him deeply. I took him aside and walked him to The Clarence where he proceeded to drink ale at great alacrity. The more he consumed, the more he talked, of snakes and slithering things, of stout workmen so afraid that they soiled their garments, and of his ever growing fear that he would lose his job over a pile of bones in a box.

  “I’m afraid I was only half-attentive to the poor man for, you see, I had heard the name Pygea before, but the source continued to elude me. It worried away at the back of my mind even as I took my leave of the, now clearly inebriated, foreman with a promise to relieve him of the problem that vexed him so unduly.”

  * * *

  Carnacki paused, and we recognized that he had reached a natural break in the tale, a spot where we could recharge our glasses and organize fresh smokes.

  Arkwright, as was sometimes his wont, attempted to draw answers from Carnacki before the tale unfolded them naturally.

  “I say old chap... what did you mean when you said that you already knew the purpose of that Latin ritual?”

  Carnacki laughed.

  “I meant exactly what I said of course,” he replied, and refused to be drawn further. Arkwright knew when he was beaten and sat back in his chair. Carnacki allowed the rest of us time to settle then resumed the tale.

  * * *

  “I decided to walk home; no small distance, but I needed to clear my head of the ale, and try to remember where I had come across the name Pygea before. A swift stroll in thin drizzle did for the ale quickly enough, but the origin of the skeleton in the chamber continued to elude me.

  “As soon as I reached Cheyne Walk I headed straight for the library. A perusal of the Sigsand MS yielded only the chanted ritual and dire warnings against its use. There were no details of the name and I was forced to delve further. I spent a three-pipe afternoon among the tomes, poring over histories of both Rome and London, ranging from prehistory upwards as far as the Tudors. Soon I was starting to think I had mis-remembered and that I had never previously encountered the name.

  “Then I found it. It was in the tale of Guldan, a fourth century monk. He had undertaken an inventory of the contents of an abbey, long since lost to history. He narrates how he found a carved sarcophagus in the chamber below the cellars. It is all written in atrocious Latin, but I shall summarize as well as I am able. Guldan seems to have been somewhat curious about many things, and this led him to investigate the box itself. He found that it contained the remains of a woman, the aforementioned Pygea. This woman had, more than a century before, made a grab for power using arts both dark and profane. With some difficulty she had been defeated, but not before she had terrorized a large part of the Roman City.

  “Her body was sealed in the casket and binding spells were cast. Then the whole thing was transported to consecrated ground for, although the Governor of the city at the time still cleaved to the old gods, he liked to hedge his bets, and a Christian burial for the sorceress was good politics.

  “And that was all Guldan could find about her. He concluded that the woman’s history had been wiped from all records, the better to forget her perfidy. He closes his note with a remark that the sarcophagus shall lie here beneath the Abbey until Judgement Day itself, safe from any return of the dark arts that so afflicted the people’s past.

  “It seems he was premature in that assessment.

  “I could find no other mention of the name among my books and, short of spending a month in the British Library, I was convinced I had unearthed as much as I would be able to manage in the time I had been given. Besides, I believed that, with the name, and the fact I had recognized the Serpent’s chant, I would at least be able to diffuse the miasma of fear that had fallen over the workmen on the site.

  “I spent the remainder of that afternoon and early evening packing a box with all the materials I would need for my defences, and getting it delivered to the work site. By the time I myself arrived there it was after nine o’clock. There was no sign of activity on the site, nor any of Mr. Menzies, who I suspected would be abed sleeping off the gallon of ale he had consumed earlier. But the lack of people did not bother me in the slightest. As you chaps know, I have been in many scrapes, all alone in the night. A bit of darkness and solitude is not in itself sufficient to make me weak at the knees.

  “It took me some time to cart all of my defences down into the chamber, but around half an hour later I was ready to get started. I had to clear a patch of dusty floor in order to make room for the initial pentagram, around which I carefully drew the customary circles in both holy water and fresh garlic. I set the valves of the electric pentacle on the points of the pentagram and attached the battery.

  “The azure valve immediately started to sputter, but settled down on tightening. I sat back into the middle of the pentagram and lit a pipe. Overhead I heard the rumble and clatter of carriages and trams, but even they diminished as the city slowed for the night.

  “The hard floor was not the most comfortable place to spend the night, but I did not expect to be kept waiting. And I was not to be disappointed.

  “The pipe was nearly finished when I heard the first whisper, coming as if from the furthest distance.
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  “O caput mortuum impero tibi per vivium Serpentem.

  “I immediately set up my counter chant from my Addenda to Harzans Monograph and Astral Coordination and Interference, the transcription of a verse I had discovered deep in the musty catacombs under York Minister. It is a ritual related by a Roman who knew certain secrets, and used them to cleanse the ground around the original temple on the site. I had high hopes that the chant would be of similar use in the circumstance in which I found myself.

  “Ri linn dioladh na beatha, Ri linn bruchdadh na falluis, Ri linn iobar na creadha, Ri linn dortadh na fala.

  “The azure valve flared, the light suddenly blinding in the confines of the cavern. The walls throbbed, began a beat and suddenly I felt I was inside a kettledrum being beaten by a manic drum-master. Shadows crept, centred on the stone casket to my right. From where I sat I could not see the skull, but somehow I knew that it carried a mocking grin as it sent more and more darkness to seethe and flow around the cavern.

  “I raised my voice.

  “Ri linn cothrom na meidhe, Ri linn sgathadh na h-anal.

  “Whispers continued. The shadows flowed around and above the pentagram, a nest of writhing snakes enclosing me inside a protective dome that crackled and spat like water on an oiled griddle. The whispers rose to a shout.

  “Kerub impero tibi per Adam

  “Aquila impero tibi per alas Tauri.

  “Serpens impero tibi per Angelum et Leonem.

  “The cavern seemed to narrow and I felt pressure in my ears and in my chest. I must tell you chaps, I have never felt such a funk. I forced myself to stand, despite the fact that my legs were as steady as a freshly-made blancmange.

  “Damnú ort! I shouted at the top of my voice. That should have been the signal for the attack to abate, but instead my defences were tested with seeming renewed vigour.

  “The azure valve of the electric pentacle chose that moment to fizz and splutter again. It was as if the writhing attack sensed the weakness. Their forays became concentrated at that point. The other four valves brightened to a harsh glare, then they too spluttered. The attack surged.

  “The valves chose that moment to give up. All of them failed at the same moment. A mass of dark appendages reached for me.

  “Once again I fled the chamber, heading for the spot where a dim light showed from above, with a black wave roiling at my heels all the way, even as I clambered up the ladder. I reached the ground above and looked back just in time to see the noxious tide recede back into the darkness.

  “As far as I could tell my defences had failed completely.”

  * * *

  “I should have remembered Menzies’ words,” Carnacki said as he paused to refill his pipe. “He had told me of the difficulties of getting any electrical apparatus to work down in the chamber. I had simply chosen to believe that my own defences would be immune to such influence.

  Arkwright, taking advantage of Carnacki’s pause, piped in at this point.

  “You know what you need old chap? A wet battery. Hermetically sealed, immune to any outside influences. I’ve heard they’ve been introduced by Beautey in France and they’re going to be the next big thing. I’ve dropped a few hundred pounds into them on the market and...”

  Carnacki waved him quiet, else we might be there yet listening to Arkwright expound on a wide variety of not-entirely related subjects.

  “I am aware of the advances in this area,” was all Carnacki said. “I look forward to taking full advantage of them at a future date. But for now I must work with what I have at hand. Now, are we ready? The tale has a ways to go yet, and the night is getting on.”

  We all knew this was a sign that Carnacki was once more ready to continue. We quickly settled as he began.

  * * *

  “My first instinct as I stood over that hole in the ground was to go to ground and lick my wounds. But I had felt the sheer power that had lain dormant in the casket for so long, a power that was now struggling to be loose. I could not in all conscience be part of that thing being allowed to roam the city.

  “Luckily for me carriages are easy to come by at all times of night around the Square, and I was soon back at Cheyne Walk and able to prepare for my next attempt. I already knew that I needed a more reliable source of power. I had a note sent to Menzies, with strict instructions on what I would require, then I set about the manner in which I would secure my, hopefully impregnable this time, defence.

  “I chose on this occasion to utilize the Gardner cage. Ever since that affair at the Larkhill Barrow I have been aware that the valves on the electric pentacle draw too much power for them to be efficiently operated from batteries, especially when the manifestation is a being of some energy itself.

  “As you chaps know, I have been testing a cage designed on principles set out by Michael Faraday to create, in effect, a void where no vibrational creature can exist. Given that the Outer Circle entities are effectively electric beings, such a cage should prove most useful in defending against them. As I have related previously, it proved somewhat, if not completely, efficacious during the wild affair at the Royal Hospital. I had been waiting for another opportunity to test just how strong a force the cage could repel... and it looked like one had just presented itself.

  “The only trouble with my plan was the amount of power I would need to draw, for my adversary had already shown itself to be strong. I hoped that the note I had sent to Menzies would help with that side of things.

  “It was almost morning again by the time I arrived back at the work site, the sky turning from indigo to slate grey. I was also a guinea lighter for having woken a carrier so early to deliver my cage to the site, but I fear the whole apparatus is simply too heavy for a single Hanson cab to take, and that is something I shall surely have to address in the future.

  “The foreman Menzies was already on site, and rather sheepish about his state of inebriation the previous day, but he perked up considerably when I told him I had a plan. I neglected to tell him of my failed attempt of the night before, as I could see no profit to either of us in him knowing. He had also been most helpful in procuring what I had requested in my note. We now had a direct cable link to the Underground system via Charing Cross, and also a backup generator running entirely on oil. I was confident that between them they would prove sufficient to the task.

  “Menzies himself helped me up and down the ladder with the equipment, and if he saw my chalk marks on the floor, or the tangled remains of my electric pentacle, he did not remark on them. He was however very sharp in scuttling back up the ladder, leaving me once more alone in the chamber.

  “I assembled the cage and hooked up the electrics, checking the voltage controls to my satisfaction before powering it back down. I did not yet sense any need of the contraption, and was loath to drain any power that I might require later.

  “Strong sunshine by now washed down from above. I could hear the noises of work on the site, and the shouts of labourers going about their job. It was hard to believe that all of that was going on mere yards above my head, while down here I stood side by side with the basest evil. For make no mistake chaps, the Serpent ritual is one of the most obscene of all the dark arts, and anyone who uses it, such as the woman who now lay in the stone casket, must pay a heavy price for any power it might endow.

  “And here, on the verge of the denouement, let us break for a small diversion, for there is something I must explain before we go any further.”

  * * *

  Carnacki gave us all time to recharge our glasses and get fresh smokes lit, then asked us a question.

  “What do you chaps know about the history of Serpent worship?”

  He continued before we had a chance to reply.

  “The Serpent is one of the most widespread of all mythological symbols,” he said. “Many cultures have Serpent Gods, while others have Serpent Devils, and others still believe that we will come back as snakes in another turn of the cosmic wheel. But it is not those that conc
ern us here. The ritual of the Serpent that was being repeatedly whispered in the chamber originally came from Roman Africa, from a time when trade between Rome and their colony in Carthage was at its peak. African mystics discovered the power of the Outer Realms while our ancestors in Europe were still living in caves, and the power of the Serpent was the strongest of them all, for it was drawn from the oldest of the elder Saiitii, that dark entity which encircles the whole Macrocosm. To draw energy from that source is to tap in to the most primal forces, forces that have shaped the whole universe.

  “So you chaps can see what I was up against. Something so huge that it almost destroyed Roman London, and so powerful that it was still malignant down through all these centuries. Pygea had called it down from the Outer Realms to do her bidding. Now I had to try to send it back, before it could escape and once more take a hold here in the Microcosm.

  “Now my friends, it is time for the final act. Are we all settled? Good, then I shall begin.”

  * * *

  “I’m not afraid to tell you that I was in quite a funk at the thought of what might come,” he said. “At first I could hardly bring myself to step away from the pool of light in the main shaft. But eventually curiosity got the better of me and I strode over to the casket to take a closer look at the source of my adversary. There was just enough light to make out some detail on the carvings, which depicted, at some length, how dark, snake like creatures had swarmed across the Roman city, only being defeated by the strength of the Governor at the time. I suspected, but could not prove, that this might be another of the man’s political statements. The casket itself was lined with nearly an inch of lead, and the body had been laid on a bed of salt. Little but scraps remained of any garments there might have been, and all flesh had long since fallen from the grey brittle bone. Yet the skull still smiled that same fixed grin, and as someone moved above the shaft, shadows crossed the eye sockets.