Malevolent Hall 1666AD (18 page)

“I dreamt there were demons, and they were taking me somewhere.  There was a woman, in a black cloak, and...” she hesitated.

“And what, Matilda?” he asked.

“A shadow man of light, he stopped the demons,” she said.  “It was just a dream, Mike,” she added quickly as she saw him mulling it over in him mind.  The last thing she wanted was for him to think she was crazy.

“What if it wasn’t,” he said.

“Wasn’t what?” she asked.

“A dream,” he replied.

She lowered her mug to her lap.  Her eyes lifted to his in thought.  What if what happened to her had been more than just a lucid dream?  They stared at each other, frozen for a moment. 

“I slept walked,” she said, with a shake of her head and dismissing any other possibility.  “That’s what must have happened.  It’s just stress I expect,” she said, breaking away from his gaze.

“What if it weren’t, Matilda?”  He took hold of her wrist and lifted her arm.

“Look at you wrists,” he said.  She looked at them, and they were red and bruised.  “Your arm,” he added.  He lifted his hand and stroked the deep scratch on her upper arm.

“Mike, come on demons?” she said.

“I didn’t mean they were demons, but what if someone drugged you, and took you.”

“No, no,” she said, with a shake of her head.

“Maybe Parker and I disturbed him or them,” he added.

“Who would do that, there’s no one here apart from your team.  Are you saying you think you have a nutter in your workforce?”

“No but after what happened to Carlos and with Sam still missing.  I think you should tell the police.”

She shook her head.

“Mike, with my history they will think I’m crazy, lock me up and throw away the key.”

“What history?” he asked.  She leaned back against the sofa.

Mike was certain she knew a lot more than she was telling, something weird was going on within this Hall and it was time he started to push her for answers.  He needed her to trust him.

“Matilda?” he insisted.  She gave a heavy sigh in resignation.

“After it happened, I spent a lot of time in hospital, recovering.  Let’s just say my mental state was not good for quite a few years.”

Mike lowered his eyes sensing he had stirred emotions that she chose not to allow to surface often.

“I’m sorry I didn’t mean to upset you.  I’m just worried about you,” he said.

“I know.”  She lifted her hand and touched his arm.  He glanced to her.  “And thank you, for being there,” she said.  He smiled and gave her a wink.

“Anytime, now do you want another cuppa?” he asked.

“Yes please, thanks, Mike,” she replied.  He took her mug, and walked to the kettle.

“Matilda, can I stay here for the rest of the night.  I’ll sleep on the sofa?” he asked.  He looked over his shoulder at her.  “Please,” he insisted.

She could see the concern for her in her eyes, he cared about her she could see that.  She nodded.  He gave her a nod back and poured the milk into their tea.

“There you go.”  He gave her a mug. 

“Thank you.”

“I’m just going to nip outside, I will literary be just in front of the Hall.  Parker came out with me, but he didn’t come back when I called.”

She sat up and looked at him.

“I’ll be fine, really,” she reassured.  Mike gave her a nod and slipped on his boots.

He pulled the back door closed, switched on his torch, and headed back into the woods.

“Parker,” he yelled.  “Where are you boy?” he whistled.  “Parker!”

After about ten minutes of yelling, Parker came bounding towards him.

“Oh, thank God, where have you been, boy?” he asked, crouching down and fussing him.  Parker licked his face and wagged his tail.

“Come on, let’s get inside, it’s bloody freezing out here,” Mike said, turning and hurrying back to the Hall.

Matilda looked up as the back door opened, and she smiled relieved when the dog bounded over to her.  She stroked him.

“Found him then,” she remarked.   Mike nodded.

“Yeah, little scamp, he was probably chasing the wild life.”

“Thank you, Parker,” she said, and she gave the dog a kiss on the top of his head.  “For waking, Mike,” she added.

Matilda stood.  Now wrapped in her towel she dropped the throw on the sofa. 

“Ouch,” she moaned, and she glanced down to her feet.

They were bloody and sore.

“Jesus, Matilda, look at your feet!” Mike gasped.  Matilda sat back down, and fought to hold back her tears.

“Stay there, we need to wash the dirt out of those cuts,” he said.  Grabbing the washing up bowl, he rinsed it out before filling it with warm water.  “Tea towel?” he asked.

“Second drawer,” she said pointing.  Mike opened the drawer and took a couple out.  He dropped one into the water and carried it to her.

“Here, put your feet in,” he said.  She did as he asked and groaned as it stung.  Gently he began to wash her feet, moving gradually up her legs to her knees.

“Mike,” she said, biting back her tears.  He glanced up at her.

“Thank you,” she said.

“Hey it’s okay, we’ll get to the bottom of this, I promise.”  His eyes gentle as he gazed up at her.

“You said you didn’t have any tcp?”

“No, but I have some homemade lotion left from the other day.  It should still be all right.  It’s in the fridge, in a small glass pot,” she said.

Mike pushed himself up off the floor and went to the fridge.  His eyes scanned the contents and then reached for a glass pot.

“Is this it?” he asked, showing it to her.

She laughed and shook her head.

“No, that’s homemade mayonnaise.”

“Oh,” he replied, giving her a grin, and putting it back.

“This?”

“Yes, that’s it,” she replied, with a nod.

He walked back to her.  Grabbing a clean tea towel, he dried her feet and applied the lotion.

“There you go,” he said, standing up.  He took the bowl of water back to the sink, and tipped it away.

Matilda rose to her feet and gave a sigh as that already felt better, and she walked towards him.

As Mike turned, he tried not to stare at her but it was hard, as she was so beautiful.  His heart thumped in his chest, and he longed to take hold of her in his arms and kiss her.

“Are you sure you’ll be okay down here?” she asked, tilting her head and looking up at him.  He was only a few inches away and she breathed in his scent as she ran a hand through her tangled hair.

“I’ll be fine, I sleep like a log anywhere,” he assured with a gentle smile.

There was a moment of silence as they stared at each other.  The corners of Mike’s mouth turned up and his eyes sparkled at he gazed at her. 

He lifted his hand and touched her shoulder.  Matilda shivered, not because she was cold but because of the electrical charge she felt go right through her.  She took a heavy breath.

“You should go and get into bed.  You feel cold again,” he said, gently rubbing her arm.

She nodded, her big green eyes still gazing at him.

“Mike,” she whispered.  When he was with her, she felt safe, and unafraid.  She really wanted to ask him to come to bed with her, just to lie beside her and keep her warm, and safe.

“Hmm,” he replied.

“Would you - come up with me?” she asked.  He tilted his head as he looked at her.  “Just to share the bed I mean, nothing else,” she added quickly.  “I’m still a little scared,” she confessed.

Mike took in a breath.  It was taking every ounce of self-control that he had not to try to kiss her now, yet alone lying beside her in bed.

“Please,” she whispered seeing he was unsure, and she lifted her hand to his arm. 

He nodded unable to refuse her when she needed him.  Gently pressing his hand to the small of her back, he guided her towards the kitchen door.  He glanced over his shoulder.

“Parker, stay here,” he said, and he switched the light off and closed the kitchen door.

Parker growled.

“Lay him down, and strip him,” she said.  The two demons dropped Sam’s corpse to the floor and began removing his clothing.  When they finished she knelt beside him.  Pushing her cloak behind her shoulders, and using her long, black fingernails the woman began to burn words into Sam’s chest.  His skin sizzled at her touch and the faint aroma of burning flesh filled the air.  It was a message for her Lord.

The woman rose to her feet.

“Give him to me,” she said.  The two demons lifted Sam’s naked corpse.  She gripped one arm around his waist, and slung his other around her shoulder.

“I failed my Lord in retrieving the girl.  I shall take this body back myself.”

“You will die,” one demon said.  “Let me do it, I’m a lesser demon, my lady,” he offered with a bow.

“No.  So be my punishment, he will know I have failed to secure the woman and he will send another to assist you,” she replied.

The four demons took five steps back from her.  One lifted his hand and threw a glass bottle to her feet.  It hit the ground and smashed; a vapour of mist began to rise from the ground and surround her.

“Quaero inferno sunt virtute magna redde Domino Demon praecipio tib,” she chanted.  “Quaero inferno sunt virtute magna redde Domino Demon praecipio tib.”  The ground shook, and a swirling whirling mini tornado spun around her.  Lifting the decaying autumn leaves and acorns in the powerful vortex and in a flash of bright light, she and Sam’s corpse disappeared into the earth.

***

Within a cave deep in the woods, Richard rose to his feet as the portal swirled in front of him.

“Someone returns, prepare for a body,” he ordered to the gathered, and stepping down from the stone throne on which he was seated, he walked towards them.  Five-cloaked men and five-cloaked women turned their eyes to the gateway as it began rumbling.  With an almighty bang, the gate opened and two bodies dropped to the ground.

“Damn it!” he cursed staring at the body of his servant.  “She has failed me.”  He read the words the woman burned into Sam’s chest.

“
He
is already there,” he cursed.  “This is why she was defeated! 
He
must have been the one whispering to her.  Bring him to the altar, and dispose of her body,” he ordered.  Richard spun around and walked to the opposite side of the cavern.  His hand pushed three stones on the wall opening a secret entrance, and lifting his hand he shot out a flame and lit the torches hanging on the walls ahead of him.  Two demons lifted Sam’s body, and gripping him under the armpits, they dragged him along the corridor after him.

Stopping, Richard opened another secret door and walked towards a stone altar situated at the back.  With a swipe of his hand, the candlesticks and a book sitting on the top flew off and landed on the floor with a clatter and a thud.

“He is still warm, my Lord,” one said as they lowered Sam’s body on it.

He offered him Sam’s arm.

“He has suffered massive blood loss,” Richard growled, running his finger across the gaping hole in Sam’s throat.  “She disobeyed my order not to harm him,” he fumed.

He withdrew a dagger from his belt, and sliced open Sam’s wrist.

“Sanguis futurorum Pace tua potestate tenebrarum, inquit, tradidi vobis animus vicissim,” he chanted.  His lips enclosing around the veins on Sam’s wrist, he drank until he had drained every, last drop of blood from his body.

Removing his mouth from Sam’s wrist, he discarded his arm in anger.

“Damn it, there still isn’t enough for me to fully form,” he shouted.

The ten dropped to their knees and hung their heads.  Richard’s eyes glowered as his body absorbed Sam’s blood.

“You,” he yelled, pointing with his finger.  The woman rose to her feet as he approached her.

“You will fetch me another, and ensure he is not harmed do you understand!” he growled.

“Yes, my Lord,” she replied.

“Time is running out.  It will soon be hallows eve, and I must have the blood of the future if I’m to pass through in full body with my powers.”  He spun around to the gathered.

“Prepare her,” he ordered.  “She leaves immediately.”

They moved her to the next chamber, and she stood within a reversed pentagram in the centre of the room ready for the transportation.

The remaining men and woman held hands and gathered in around her.

Richard moved towards them lifting his hands.  He was just about to start, when he had a thought.  He swung his hand to the right and using an invisible force picked up the silver candlestick from the altar room and drew it to him.  It shot along the corridor, through the next chamber and into his waiting hand.

“Take this; men are easily tempted by objects of wealth.  Use it to draw one to you,” he said.  The woman lifted her hand and as Richard threw it to her; she caught it.

Returning his attention back to the ceremony, Richard opened his arms wide once again.

“Darkness of light,” he chanted.  “Grant me thy power,” he yelled. As electricity pulsated from his hands, he approached the gathered.  He touched the shoulder of one, and the power spread like wild fire to each one in turn. Soon the circle glowed in a fiery red light, and the men and women shook as they absorbed the energy.

“Aperire ostium tenebrarum, et accipe haec puella,” Richard cried.  Together they stepped forward covering the woman with the energy.  The portal began to open, and in unison, they lifted their hands.  With an almighty bang, she shot into the air and disappeared.

Richard looked on – The veins in his neck pulsating as blackness burned through his blood.  The day he killed Matilda of the past he gave his soul to Lucifer in exchange for the power of a demon lord.  In return for his new gift, he killed the other seven women, offering their souls to Lucifer.  He and his demons had murdered many more since in order to gain the power he needed to transport to the future. He took Matilda’s younger sister by force as an act of revenge, and fathered twins, a Rhiamon daughter and a Tovenaar, son.  He neither desired, nor cared for the children or for their mother and had immediately abandoned them.

There were only two things Richard desired, revenge, and Matilda.  He returned to the stone alter.

Withdrawing his dagger, he sliced across Sam’s chest, opening it.  Pulling the sleeve back on his cloak, he delved inside Sam’s chest and ripped out his heart.  Shoving Sam’s body on the floor, he ran his fingers through the blood left on the surface drawing different kinds of symbols.

“My Lord, it will drain you,” a voice said from behind.  Richard turned and looked sharply over his shoulder.

“I need to see her, I need her to find me the book,” he growled.  “I will not fail to take her this time!”

The man nodded, and summoning the rest of the gathered, they encircled the stone table.  One of the women put a small, black,  pot on top and Richard placed the heart in side.  Using his dagger, he cut his palm, allowing his blood to drop into the caldron.  With a pestle, he crushed the heart, combining it with his blood.

“Cum sanguine futura praeteritis, nulla vis, mihi,” he chanted.  Lifting the caldron to his mouth, he drank the concoction.  Slamming the caldron down, he took a step back.  “Cum sanguine futura praeteritis, nulla vis, mihi,” he chanted again.  His eyes rolled to the back of his head, and mist enveloped his body.