Baba Lenka

by S E England

  I struggled to digest it all, but the clock was ticking, and here was my mother, after all these years. “But what happened to you? I need to understand…Dad said you read the books.”

  “Yes, it was after I burned the poppet…” Her voice trailed away and her eyes began to close again.

  I squeezed her hand to wake her up. “Mum, I have to know. I’m sorry but I have to know about the books.”

  “Yes, yes you do. There was a grimoire. It was written in Sumerian thousands of years ago. Some of these ancient grimoires were smuggled out to Turkey and later filtered into Europe. This one had been translated into various languages with Russian and German scribbled over the top. The other books were line-by-line instructions to Lenka from the Order, along with a diary she kept.”

  “Did the grimoire explain the initiation rite – the rape of the dead sorceress and the cannibalism?”

  “You learned this from dreams?”

  “Yes.”

  She blanched, two tiny spots of fuchsia high on her cheeks. Her eyes seemed sunken, the bones of her face angular, her fingers pinching through my sleeve. “Oh, love, I am so sorry – you see, this is what we carry!”

  I squeezed her hand and blinked back another wash of tears.

  “Baroness Jelinski experimented with what she called the darker half of creation – the shadow force, the nonhuman or demonic, as I was trying to explain – and she brought them in. I read the parts translated into German—”

  “How come you know German?”

  She held up her hand. “I was taught it as my first language up to the age of six, but, Eva, I made sure I learned my mother tongue. It felt natural, and, like you, my dreams were informed dreams.”

  I nodded. “Okay.”

  “Anyway, you asked about the books. I became interested, that’s all. But the more I read, the more the world as it had been, spiraled away and became lost to me. The grimoire described how Sakla – or Satan, who is titled in different ways depending on which texts you read – rules a shadow force. These shadows hail from a realm of absolute blackness, yet they walk among us, feeding off ignorance, anger, hostility and jealousy, to name a few. Their energy is fed just as much by ignorance as violence - all that is grey, dark and without light, in fact. Some call them demons, some call them archons, and others will say evil spirits. And it is these who possess the people who bow down to Satan.” She paused, and then added, “Never call a demon forth by name, Eva. And never call on Satan, because whatever riches you are given in this world, will be paid for in eternity. And that’s a long, long time.”

  “But if they feed off us, how come they want us to be killed in wars?”

  “Not just killed, not all of us. What they want is to stop humans knowing who they are and where they came from. They want us to be obsessed with sex and money, envy and hatred. They want us kept in the dark but yes, war and chaos is an absolute feast!”

  “And Lenka helped bring about wars?”

  “Yes.”

  “Mum!” The truth hit me. “I think she was tricked. I mean, I know she was…and then it was too late—”

  She nodded. “Which is why you must have the knowledge. Your dad was adamant you shouldn’t know what she did, but the thing is, Eva – the truth sets us free. And you have to understand that once you make the connection with them, your life will no longer be your own. They will make it unbearable.”

  “A Shadow force, you said?”

  She nodded.

  “Black winged shadows brought in on a cold wind? Is that what you see?”

  “Yes.”

  It seemed to me that as we spoke, the room darkened a shade. My mother shivered.

  “And you read those rituals, didn’t you? You spoke the words, and you—”

  “I learned exactly how to commune with them, yes.”

  “Talking to them? Getting answers?”

  “Yes, and now they’re attached to me, and I can’t get rid of them. Unlike you, though, I cannot give commands but only be tormented. The gift and title of sorceress was passed to you. You are their mistress in this world, and they expect you to use their energy.”

  “Mum.” I glanced at the clock. Fifteen minutes and Dad would be back. “What did Baba Lenka do, exactly? I have to know what lies ahead. Dad said if I knew, it would send me insane, but I have to, don’t I?”

  “Your dad read through the other two books when he burned the grimoire. There were two large tomes, thousands upon thousands of pages of instructions and photographs from the Order. Baba Lenka spent a lifetime working for occult sects and satanic lodges at the highest level – with the world’s most prestigious and powerful elite, people you would never imagine in your wildest nightmares could be involved in things like that. There were names in those books, along with photographs – remember she had to recognise them – of royalty, government ministers, military commanders, aristocrats, artists and film stars, top psychiatrists, university professors, judges and police chiefs – people it would shock you to know were involved and whose descendants still are. Killing and even consuming children, Eva. They torture them until their eyes bleed, and drink their blood.”

  Tears dripped down her tissue cheeks. “I’m getting cold again, oh so cold.”

  From a nearby chair I grabbed a blanket, and on a hot day in a hot room, wrapped it around her shoulders.

  “What a trick it is, what illusion, yet humans have such a weakness, such greed and such egos that they are prepared to do such things…”

  I felt myself spiralling downwards. “Hell on earth and few people even know about it?”

  She nodded. “Oh, it’s hushed up good and proper. Anyone speaking out will either be committed or quietly removed. These people bond together on pain of death. It isn’t a secret that the SS used the dark arts. There were even counter-occult groups sending incorrect information back to them. So more ordinary people than you think know about it, but most have been programmed to believe it’s not real. If they did, they could fight back you see - spiritually.”

  We had less than five minutes left. By then, the midsummer afternoon had darkened considerably, the air hot and still. But despite the insufferable heat, goosebumps rose on my mother’s skin and her teeth chattered.

  I rubbed her arms in a vain attempt to keep her warm.

  “Mum, I get badly ill. What am I to do?”

  She gripped my hand. Three small squeezes one after the other. “Most important. Listen. You have to know. It is all in your mind, Eva. It is an illusion, a trick, and nothing is solid. How do you think you get well again so quickly?”

  “What? I don’t understand. But others can see I am ill.”

  “Step outside of your rational mind for a minute. It is illusion, Eva. Other people see how you don’t eat, that you are thin; they see you tormented and anxious, reacting to pain. But believe me, the power over you is all illusion because they want you to facilitate their agenda. But it only works if you let it! Do you see? This is not real but a spiritual battle between the light and the shadow force – between human creation and the dark, inhuman one. Use light, they hate that. Remember, darkness can only dim the light, but light can obliterate the darkness. Fill yourself with love and hope and all you have been given as a human spirit. Remember there is always a human weakness or flaw that makes it possible for them to ride in. It can be greed or hate, rage or jealousy, take your pick—”

  I hung my head, remembering the rage. “Lenka’s was vanity, wasn’t it? She wanted to be admired!”

  My mum smiled wanly. “Always there is a weakness or they wouldn’t get in. Everyone calls them demons, their demons…you see…deep down, people do know—”

  My dad’s footsteps were in the corridor below, about to come up the stairs.

  “How do you know so much, Mum?”

  She sighed. “I made it my business. When I’m not out for the count, I try to read and so should you.”

  The fire door to the main corridor creaked on its hinges. Suddenly she rea
ched forwards and pulled me close.

  “Understand one thing, Eva. Do not, under any circumstances, work for the Order. They are the scum of the earth. Do not fall for what they offer or you will be lost… If it looks too good to be true, it probably is.”

  I pulled back so I could look into her eyes, realising on a deep, unspoken level that it would be for the last time. She was gripping my hand like she never wanted to let go.

  “I’ll be all right, Mum. Now I understand more. Thank you. I’m going to try and do what you say.”

  Her grip tightened, and I kissed her forehead.

  “I’ve got a job in a nursing home, did you know? And a few weeks ago I met a really nice lad. Don’t worry, he’s definitely not wealthy, he’s just ordinary and kind and—”

  She started to pant, the hair matting to her forehead. “Met someone? Who?”

  “His name’s Luke. He’s—”

  “He didn’t seek you out, did he?”

  “Well, sort of, but—”

  “Is he very good looking, charming and funny?”

  “Yes, but honestly he’s not—”

  “No! No! No! Eva, no—”

  Her screams ricocheted round the whole hospital. Dad flew in along with two male nurses.

  “Sorry, love, we’re going to have to ask you to leave.”

  She was still gripping my hand, but her eyes had rolled back in her head, and her body was contorting violently.

  Dad glared at me as I stood up and backed away.

  “I knew this would happen. Eva, I told you not to upset her. She might not recover this time—”

  “Mr Hart, we need you and your daughter to leave now, please.”

  ***

  Chapter Thirty-Six

  There was nothing about Luke to cause alarm. I worried about what Mum had said the whole way home, but he was about as mundane as they came, with a job in an office somewhere in Leeds. Definitely not a member of the ruling classes, he had a local accent, rode a motorbike and wore jeans and t-shirts. It was true the attraction was strong, but he definitely wasn’t pressing me to learn politics or offering a house!

  My heart, so heavy in my chest on the journey back to the flat that midsummer evening, soared at the sight of him leaning on the wall by the bus stop when I got back. A fringe of dark hair flopped over his forehead, his long legs crossed at the ankles. When I rounded the corner, he flicked his cigarette onto the road and held open his arms.

  He was the only person apart from Nicky who had ever hugged me, but that wasn’t the same, was it? I mean, Luke, he wrapped his arms right around me and just held me in a great, protective bear hug. I’d never needed it more than I did then, either. Instinctively he knew the visit to my mum had been traumatic, although I had no intention of telling him what kind of burden we had to bear. Like most people, he’d back away and assume it was madness.

  I just sank into him, loving that he stroked my hair, soothed by the kind words he breathed into my neck. I wanted to love this man. I wanted more than anything in the world right then to be taken care of, helped, partnered. Mum and Dad had that – despite everything, their love burned more brightly than ever. You could almost see the bond.

  Well, I wanted that kind of love, too. And even more than that, I wanted to give it.

  After a few minutes I pulled away to look at him. His face, gazing down into mine, was a rapture of concern, his deep brown eyes glinting not with mischief this time but something else…love? He smoothed my hair back and tilted up my chin with one elegant finger. I had never been kissed before Luke came into my life. And I have a feeling few have ever been kissed the way he was about to kiss me at that moment. He did that thing, tilting his head, at first just grazing my lips, then looked directly into my eyes, waiting for the invitation. Should he go further? We were melting into each other. I nodded. And when he kissed me again, it was a hell of a lot harder. The pressure intensified rapidly. He groaned, and a hot surge rose inside me, blurring all other thoughts except the desire to have him. I’d marry him. I wanted him. His breathing became faster. Pressing me against the wall, he pushed his lean, muscular body into mine, and the fire in his eyes ignited to a blaze.

  “I want you,” he said, his voice syrupy, kissing me all over my face, my neck, dipping down to the throat.

  I want you…

  He took hold of my hand. “Come on, let’s go for a walk in the park. It’s not dusk yet.”

  I know, I was sixteen and traumatised, but I didn’t care. Besides, through Lenka I knew how beautiful loving someone physically could be, and I’d always wanted that for myself. This could be my happy ending. In time, after getting spiritual help, maybe with his strength and support I’d have a normal, happy life. After all, this was simply illusion, as my mother had said. Illusion and control…

  Honestly? It was the most natural thing in the world to walk through those park gates with him towards the woods, with the amber sun dipping over the horizon. We fell into the long grass. I can still remember the desperation on his face when he entered me, the contortion of his features as he groaned in ecstasy, the pulsing of his arm muscles, the iron slenderness of his hips. And most of all, I remember the way he murmured my name, all the way through: ‘Eva…Eva…oh, Eva…’

  Afterwards, we lay still, panting, the sweat on our skin cooling, until the fiery ball of the sun dropped over the playing fields, streaks of crimson and rose in its wake. I curled into the crook of his arm.

  After a while he lit a cigarette and passed one to me. “So how did it go with your mum, then?”

  “Good in a way, but it upset me in another way.”

  “How do you mean?”

  “Well, she has to be sedated. They wouldn’t let me visit for years, so it’s been a bit of a shock.” I snuggled closer. “I’m glad I’ve seen her, though. Really glad.”

  “What’s the matter with her, then?”

  I hesitated. I didn’t want to put him off. “Okay, well do you know what the supernatural is?”

  “You mean witches and ghosts and stuff?”

  “Well, sort of. It’s to do with that, anyway. Demons. Does it scare you?”

  He laughed and kissed my cheek. “Course not!”

  So I told him. After he said his mum did tarot and he’d once seen a ghost, I opened up. Omitting details regarding the World Wars or how Lenka had joined an occult order, I related quite a bit about the family legacy and what had happened in Rabenwald. It was such a relief to tell him about my mum, too, about the human spirit and to trust in God.

  “So, you see,” I said, “what a crazy family I have.”

  “That doesn’t worry me. Most families have something to hide.”

  “What about yours? Come on, your turn!”

  He took a long drag of his cigarette. An owl hooted nearby, and we both jumped.

  But it was as I was laughing that his mood altered. The aura around him clouded, his face set to stone, and he sat up so abruptly that my shoulder fell back against the ground.

  “You’re a bit dumb, really, aren’t you, Eva?”

  “Pardon?”

  He looked over his shoulder as I lay there on the grass. All signs of flirtatiousness, desire, and caring concern were now erased from his handsome features. The eyes were dead, the mouth sneering.

  “Your mother’s fed you a pile of crap, and you actually believed it. That’s what’s worrying. She’s insane, but you believed all the shit about human light and God’s creation. You must be really, seriously fucking thick.”

  “Hey, I didn’t say I believed that or—”

  “All there is, right, is what you can see and hear and touch. That’s it. When you’re dead, you’re dead – dust! So you might as well live life to the max – have fun, have sex with who you like when you like, make pots of money, have orgies, drive fast cars, get pissed or snort coke. Who cares what you do? There is no man on a throne in the fucking sky passing out judgement.”

  “I never said there was a man on a throne.”


  “Anyway, I’m thinking of going, taking a job in London. I was gonna tell you, but you’ve really busted my head in with all this talk of God and snuffing out human light. I thought you were the one! But you’re nuts.”

  All I heard were the words ‘I’m thinking of going’.

  Sitting up, sobered, I stared at the side of his stony-featured face. “I thought you had a job here. Oh, please don’t go! You can’t do this to me!”

  He laughed. “Do what to you?”

  “Make me…” Shit, I was going to cry. I thought, stupidly, that he was a friend and, even more stupidly, that we were in love.

  “Fall in love?”

  “No.”

  He looked at me then and smirked. “Fuck, that’s what you were going to say, wasn’t it? ‘Make me fall in love with you’? Eva, you’re not old enough to even know what that means.”

  Sixteen-year-old Lenka came to mind. Oh, we were old enough. Our feelings were every bit as powerful as a fully grown adult’s, if not more so because we leapt in with such abandon, such trust and such passion. I was really working hard at not crying. An eruption of grief was coming from the very core of my being, and I couldn’t stop it.

  “After what we’ve just done, how can you—?”

  “Eva, don’t be such a baby. It’s only sex.”

  “I’m not being a baby, it’s just that you’ve changed – you’ve completely turned on me.”

  My lower lip was weakening. Any second now, I was going to sob uncontrollably.

  Those dark eyes of his were heartlessly fixed on mine. Then, just as swiftly as his rage arose, it drained away and he smiled.

  “Of course, you could come with me?”

  I swallowed repeatedly, confused, seesawing between hope and despair. “Really?”

  “Yeah, why not? I mean, what is there for you here – a mother in a mental home, spouting religious bullshit, and a father who dumped you?”