The Satanists

by Philip R Benge

  The Satanists were soon standing within the wall of smoke; and finding it even harder to breathe, they had all covered their mouths, but even so, within the smoke they were all coughing. To their trepidation, they found that it was given off by a river of lava, an unending river of extremely hot melted rock that flowed endlessly past them, and the fortress, from the nearby volcano. However, the builders of the road had not let it prevent them from entering the fortress; standing before them was an ancient stone bridge. Somehow, magically, the bridge had not been affected by the tremendous heat that came off the lava.

  “This must be the Phlegethon, the river of fire, and now we can see how it got its name, it is a river of burning rock.” Moira said while coughing.

  The others had crowded around her and Parkston to see how they would cross the impossibly hot barrier. The bravest of the coven now took it upon herself to say what all the others felt.

  “We have come to our journeys end, Moira, there is no way that we will be able to cross the bridge, I can see and feel the heat coming off it from here.” Mrs Knightly proclaimed.

  “This hardly presents us with a problem, Joanna, you see I have been busy ever since I thought of this audacious quest, so please do not fret, for I will soon provide us with a little air conditioning to cool the bridge, and us while we cross it.” Moira promised.

  Moira now looked in the direction of the volcano, and in ringing cries called out. “Oh Boreas, God of the North wind, please cool this hot lava and allow us to cross over the stone bridge without being scorched by its heat or that of the lava. If you would do this small act then I promise to build an altar to you when we return home, and each month I will provide a sacrifice as an offering to you.” Moira cried out.

  For a moment nothing happened, and the Satanists, who were gathered behind her, began to voice their feelings about the young Satanist. Then, from along the long road, a cold gale sprang up, and it was so icy that the Satanists began to complain yet again, this time about the cold. Two minutes later and the lava around the bridge, and for a long stretch to the right of the bridge, had turned to stone, and a thick layer of frost sparkled upon the stone bridge itself. Moira knew that the river had not been frozen solid for all time, merely cooled for a short while by a powerful magic, soon enough the river Phlegethon would shrug off the spell and return to its normal molten condition.

  “Cease your cowardly cackling and follow me to glory.” Moira roared at the Satanists.

  “Here you are Simon, it must be your turn to carry the Key of Tartarus, it`s getting rather heavy.” Moira complained handing the artefact over to Parkston, then she walked across the now cold bridge and set off towards the massive wooden gates.

  Feeling the power within the device made Parkston gasp in wonder as he hung the Key of Tartarus around his neck and then he hurried after her, he now found himself feeling an admiration for her bravery, her leadership, and he was a little ashamed for not leading the way forward himself. The other Satanists were even more ashamed than Parkston, for verbally assaulting the young Satanist, as well as for their own cowardice. As for Rob and his friends, they too felt a certain admiration for the young woman who had brought them to this terrible land.

  They all soon reached the massive pair of wooden gates, and they were not surprised to find that they were closed, however on testing one of the gates they found that they were not locked. The men amongst the coven put their shoulders against one of the gates, however, the tremendous weight of just this one gate took all their strength to push it far enough away from its twin to allow them to enter into the forbidding fortress.

  Once Rob had passed through the massive gates, he saw that the inside of this fortress differed from that of Lord Asbaritch; for one thing, the inside of this fortress resembled the Tower of London in so many ways. It also differed in one massive way; they could now hear screams coming from within the walls of the towering central tower. The intense smell of burning sulphur was the next thing that he noticed, which was much greater than before, but then they were in the depths of Hell. Ahead of them was another pair of doors, these not as massive as the pair they had just entered through, but still large. These new doors led into the towering central tower, and it was to these that Moira headed, with Jonathan Towers in tow.

  “Put your shoulders against the door Jonathan, and push.” Moira ordered.

  Towers immediately obeyed, and another of the Satanists moved forward to assist him, but they both stepped away from the door, crying out in fear, for the face of a man appeared within the wood of the door, and they heard a soft whispering voice coming from him, he seemed to be warning them to go back. Moira looked at them with distain, and moved forward and put her shoulder to the door, the face within the wooden door looked at her with surprise, however, the door opened quite easily, and the face disappeared back into the wood.

  Through this door, they saw a large entrance hall, on either side of this entrance hall, there were two narrow arches, and within them, they could see stone staircases that wound their way up to the next floor. In front of the Satanists, there was yet another pair of doors, and these opened as easily as the last pair, and without a face appearing, inside was the Great Hall. Unnoticed by all except Rob, all of the doors that they had entered through were fitted with very intricate looking locks, for the moment they were not in use.

  On both sides of the hall were ranks of ancient weapons, the floors were covered in mosaic tiles that portrayed mythological figures, and the ceiling was made up of massive wooden beams supporting a wooden roof. In front of them, at the other end of the hall, was a large throne, it stood three feet above the normal floor level, and wide steps led up to it. Directly in front of the throne was a foot high dais, for those who had displeased Kronos, they could beg for mercy while kneeling upon the dais, although not many of the prisoners of Tartarus ever received mercy. Set within the hall were three massive dining tables, arranged in a U-shape, with the bottom of the U nearer to them than the throne Around the tables were huge wooden benches, strong enough to support the weight of the demon diners.

  “Jonathan, take the handsome Rob and his friends and deposit them somewhere prominent, but please ensure that they do not get loose. Everyone else, quickly search the room for the Ark, we need to find it quickly, and before the lord of the fortress makes an appearance.” Moira ordered. “But quietly please, lest we alert the Lord of Tartarus to our presence.”

  Towers and his two comrades pulled Rob, Gerry Handley and Father Pritchard over to a part of the right hand sidewall that was comparatively empty of Bronze Age weaponry, then they were each tied around a large supporting pillar and left to be found by the demons of this hell dimension.

  Moira stood watching as the members of the coven spread out and began to search for the Ark, all signs of their recent fears had dissipated now, now that they were safely inside the Great Hall, and seemingly alone. Moira strode over to where Rob now lay, and stood in front of him, looking down upon his bound figure she laughed.

  “You see Rob; I have found the perfect way to dispose of your body, and those of your two friends too. The authorities of our world will ever find your remains here, not unless they want to travel to hell.” Moira said laughing. “However, you and your two friends will be found, and then tortured.” Moira said, delighted by the thought. “The inmates of this hell house will be as mad as hell, pun intended, when they find that their precious Ark has been stolen, and they will take their loss out on you, and for all the time that you are a guest here, you will slowly die of thirst. Mind you, can you die in hell, maybe you will live for ever, and you might even join those people we passed by on the road out front, and be crucified along with you friends, to suffer an eternity of torment.” Moira gloated.

  She let out a quiet peal of laughter, and then turning, left Rob and walked further into the Great Hall and towards the massive throne.

  A Cyclops, the guardian of the Ark, saw the mist appear at the entrance of the Great Hall, and w
atched in amazement as it slowly enveloped the whole of the Hall, he then heard the low tones of the Satanists as they called to one another, and it realised that the humans had arrived. He rushed down a nearby stone staircase and into the dungeons where Kronos and the other ancient gods and demons were enjoying themselves, torturing a number of people who had committed various evil acts during their mortal lives.

  “My Lord, the humans have arrived, they are in the Great Hall searching for the golden Ark of Baʿal Berith, the time of your release has finally arrived, you shall soon be set free from your prison oh mighty Lord.” The Cyclops exclaimed in joy.

  Kronos cried out in joy and ran towards the stone staircase, minor gods and demons following him.

  Oblivious of this turn of events, Moira had reached the halfway mark of this enormous room, and there, to one side, she came to a waist high cabinet, and upon it was a richly decorated wooden chest, it was two foot long, one foot wide and one and a half foot high, and covered in gold leaf. The decorations were made of solid gold, showing mythological scenes, fashioned by a master goldsmith, and precious jewels were set around the scenes. Something resembling a glass dome covered the chest, but it was no ordinary dust cover.

  “Simon, it`s over here, and it is beautiful.” Moira called out softly.

  Simon Parkston has just finished laying a shape explosive charge against the sidewall, not too far from Rob, it was to provide them with an emergency exit should it become necessary. Looking across at Moira, he smiled and then strode quickly across to the young Satanist, the other Satanists also converging upon her, all anxious to see the wondrous satanic object. On seeing the Ark, triumph filled the face of Simon Parkston, and he immediately reached out and attempted to move the glass dome, but it resisted his attempt to remove it.

  “Jonathan, use the stock of your shotgun to break the glass, gently though, we do not want to damage the Ark.” Parkston said.

  Towers first gave the glass dome a gentle tap with the stock of his weapon, then he gave it a slightly more violent one, and finally he uses all his might, but the glass dome, if that is what it was, resisted even the tremendous amount of brute force that Towers brought against it.

  Parkston had just time enough to swear a rather blasphemous oath when the doors through which they had entered the Great Hall slammed shut, and the intricate locks clicked loudly, locking them all in. He looked back at the doors, fearful that Kronos had found them, which he had, but Kronos came into the hall via a massive arch set to one side and behind the giant throne.

  Kronos waved his hands and the Mist created by the Mist of Glairmore quickly dissipated, leaving the Satanists without their cloak of invisibility. The Satanists screamed in terror at the sight of the giant ruler of Tartarus, Kronos, father of the ancient Greek gods, for he stood fully twenty foot tall, and he played the part of a god with ease. They stood, frozen, until the other ancient gods came through the giant arch, closely followed by three Cyclops. The Satanists who were armed with the shotguns opened fire upon the terrible gods and demons, an assortment of various monstrous creatures. A Cyclops was hit by multiple 9mm buckshot, and it caused him to stagger and then to fall to the floor, but he was not dead, merely wounded, and now he was very angry. One of the Satanists fired upon Kronos himself; however, although it stopped him, momentarily, and he shrieked in pain, he then made straight for the Satanist who had fired upon him. The Satanist fired again, this time at point blank range, and Kronos cried out in pain again, but now he was upon the Satanist, and Kronos pulled the shotgun out of his hands and broke it in two. The Satanist made to run, however he did not get very far, for Kronos picked him up and threw him across the Great Hall. The Satanist hit the far wall, near to where Rob was bound, and landed upon the floor looking very broken.

  The other gods and demons were then amongst the Satanists, those who were armed were to the front, however, the unarmed Satanists were not looking to fight, rather to find a way out, and failing. Therefore, they grabbed the bronze weapons from the walls and turned towards the gods and demons, and began to defend themselves.

  Kronos noticed Moira standing by the Ark, and he remembered that she was the Satanist that he had used to provide a doorway out of Tartarus. Knowing that she was the most able of the creatures fleeing from them, he hurled an energy bolt at her, it screamed through the air but missed her, it did however strike the dome protecting the Ark. The effect was magnificent for it created a truly wonderful light show that lit up the room and then slowly faded.

  Moira openly laughed at the god, and as she picked up the golden Ark of Baʿal Berith, while she cried with joy, Kronos snarled in anger and strode towards her.

  “Simon, I have it, take out the wall now.” She called across to the leader of the coven.

  Simon Parkston took a moment out of the mayhem exploding all around him to look across at the young Satanist, seeing her holding the Ark, he pulled a device out of his pocket, he did not warn the other Satanists, no he merely detonated the sharped charge that was fixed to the wall of the Great Hall. It exploded, taking out a small section of the wall, and stunning both the Satanists and their antagonists. Moira immediately rushed for the newly made portal, crouching as she did so for Simon Parkston had ensured that it was barely human sized, not god or demon sized. Mrs Knightly and Jonathan Towers followed her seconds later. Simon Parkston paused for just a moment to look for his wife, but when he saw her in the grasp of a Cyclops, he too bolted through the hole in the wall, all he cared about now was his own safety, and the power that Moira now had in her hands. The others must manage as best they can, or be taken prisoner and tortured. From outside the walls of the Great Hall another explosion was heard, Parkston had created another hole, this time in the outer wall of the fortress.

  The other Satanists in question were dying, the ancient weapons had never been very effective when used against the demons, and one Satanist knew that he was about to die, the pain he felt with every breath that he took told him so. He caught sight of Rob and his two friends, and he knew he had to do something to save them, something that might even save his soul from the horrors of Tartarus. He crawled across the mosaic floor, every movement sending a new wave of pain through his broken body, until he reached Rob, who could not believe that he was about to be given the chance to live. The Satanist pulled out a knife and cut the rope tying Rob`s hands, and then he died, the knife falling from his hands to clatter on the mosaic floor.

  Rob quickly cut the rope binding his feet and then cut the ropes restraining his two friends.

  “We have got to get out of here before the inhabitants of this hell dimension notice us, come on.” Rob said and immediately ran for the hole in the wall created by Parkston.

  All around them they heard the screams of the dying Satanists, but even Father Pritchard found it difficult to feel sorry for them, not after their last few hours of hell, both here and in their world, that they had all endured. Just before they passed through the hole in the wall each of the men grabbed a bronze weapon from the floor where they had fallen following the explosion, they knew that they had proved ineffective in the hands of the Satanists, but they were the only weapons to hand.

  Moira Bourbon, Mrs Knightly, Jonathan Towers, and Simon Parkston were all away from the fortress, they had escaped the final stages of the bloody carnage within the Great Hall. Now they were fleeing as fast as their legs would carry them, straight for the old ruined church, leaving the others behind them, all of them now dead or dying.

  The way back was longer, and over rougher ground than the rough track along which they had journeyed to the fortress. Jonathan Towers leapt across a ditch, his friends close behind him, his heart was racing madly and he was winded, so he stopped for a second to look back, fear was never far away now. In the distance, in the skies just above the fortress, he saw three figure flying towards him, Furies from Greek mythology, and so he took off again after the others who had passed him by. He knew that the safety of the small ruined church was not far away
, but would he be given the minute or two at most, to reach it, for the first time in his adult life he now prayed for help. Towers was weighed down, for he was carrying the Mist of Glairmore, but he did not attempt to make use of it, for it simply did not work all that well in Tartarus. However, he kept a hold on it for use back in England, if he was lucky enough to see it again.

  Mark Chambers, the youngest male member of the coven, did manage to reach the hole in the outer wall of the fortress; it was only shortly after Rob and his friends passed through it, relief appearing on his face for a moment. However, it was only for a moment, for he was grabbed by two large and powerful hands and he was dragged back inside, seconds later his screams were heard by anyone left alive within the Fortress. It had not been much of a victory, his victim being puny compared to the heroes of ancient times, but Kronos still enjoyed the feeling, then he was running for the huge doors to chase after those who had escaped his trap.

  **********

  Rob and his two friends had made good their escape from the walls of the fortress because the ancient demons had gone berserk with a blood lust that they had all but forgotten, for it had been eons since they had enjoyed such a feeling of savagery. This had delayed them from pursuing those few who had escaped, however, now they found the supply of humans still alive had dried up, and so they chased after the few fleeing survivors.