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Canticum Tenebris (Wrath of the Old Gods Book 2) Page 2
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Almost all of the other hundred cardinals were there, along with the Pope himself. None of them had any clothes on, and they were in the midst of unspeakable debauchery. A creature with a star-shaped body, each point ending with a hoofed hind leg like that of a goat, was rolling around the hall like a man-sized pinwheel, its human-like head at the center of its grotesque body and speaking in strange tongues. Another creature with three gigantic heads on top of its mushroom-shaped body was crawling along. It had nine spider-like legs that enabled it to move up onto the walls and to the top if the high ceiling where it began to piss on the priceless frescoes. The Pope was kneeling on top of the altar at the far end of the chapel, as a demon with a snake-like lower torso was trying to stick itself down his throat. The Holy Father seemingly encouraged it further by trying to open his mouth as wide as he could. The cardinals were rolling naked on the bloody floor, fornicating with themselves, the creatures, and on the mutilated corpses of the other nuns.
Giancarlo had had enough as he turned around and ran along the corridor, but not before stopping in front of two burning torches ensconced near the exit. They were apparently placed there earlier that evening to provide illumination. Grabbing one of the torches from its holder, the cardinal steeled himself as he turned and started walking back towards the entrance to the chapel.
Salvatore saw the cardinal walking back to him with a flaming torch in his hand. “What are you doing?” the young priest said to him as he tried to grab the torch away.
“Let go of me,” Giancarlo said as he tried to push himself away from Salvatore who held him tightly and wouldn’t let go. “We must destroy this whole place to rid ourselves of all those devils!”
“No, your Eminence!” Salvatore said as he held him fast. “Michelangelo’s masterpieces are in that chapel along with the other cardinals, it will be murder!”
Giancarlo had both frustration and fury in his thoughts. “Let me be hanged as a murderer then, but I must do my duty in combating the forces of the devil!”
Another voice called out behind them. “Buonasera, Cardinal Buffoni and Father Rossi, how nice of you to finally meet with us.”
Both men turned around. Standing in the corridor was an old man wearing a dark suit. Giancarlo had just walked along the same pathway less than a minute before and it seemed that the stranger just appeared from nowhere. The man in the suit was gaunt and had long white hair tied back in a pony tail, his wrinkled visage belied years of experience as he rubbed at a large brass right on his right hand.
Giancarlo faced him with the torch in his hand ready to strike. “Who are you?”
“Please allow me to introduce myself,” the man in the suit said in fluent Italian. “I’m a man of power and refinement. Seth Solomon is my name and I’m afraid I cannot allow either of you to interfere with my invocations. You see, our Pope is being possessed by about three of my geotic demons and the ritual is almost finished. So naturally, until that is done, I’m afraid I cannot allow any interruptions.”
“I’ve never heard of you,” Giancarlo said. “What kind of man are you to help with these unholy defilements? Are you even a Christian?”
Solomon smiled. “I’m afraid I’m more than human now. And I was never a Christian.”
“If you are responsible for this, then I will stop you in the name of God!” Giancarlo said as he ran towards him, swinging the burning torch. But just as he got to within striking range, a ghost-like being materialized in front of the terrified cardinal, stopping him in his tracks. All Giancarlo could see was a hazy outline of some sort of manlike creature as if it was made of very light mist. Within seconds, the hazy creature grabbed at his throat with invisible hands as the cardinal was lifted off the ground and began to choke as if being strangled.
Salvatore started moving towards the two as he hoped he could help his mentor, but the three-headed demon from the chapel quickly crawled out from the entryway and pounced on him from behind. As the terrified young priest fell onto the floor of the corridor, one of the demon’s frog-like heads bit Salvatore’s head off his body, letting his corpse tumble to the ground. Giancarlo struggled to breathe but the spirit’s grip was too strong as he finally blacked out and suffocated just as his trachea collapsed.
Solomon walked past the two dead bodies in the corridor while he prepared for the final phase of the possession ritual as the two demons followed him into the chapel. Just before going back in, he turned to look at the barely visible spirit that moved beside him. “All this time and you still haven’t told me your name.”
“I am called Dantalion,” the spirit said.
Solomon smiled. “Ah yes, Dantalion. Great Duke of Hell with thirty-six legions under your command. You are the seventy-first spirit of my namesake. It seems the grimiore is quite accurate after all.”
“I live to serve the wielder of the seal,” Dantalion said.
“That you do,” Solomon said as he walked into the Sistine Chapel.
“For now, anyway,” the demon said under its breath so no one heard it.
2. Prey
Kenya
Hendrik Visser watched as the small plane landed on the far side of the runway strip and began to taxi towards him. The afternoon was overcast and it gave some relief from the relentless sun that had been shining over the veldt. He opened the door, got out of the driver’s seat, and stood on the dirt airstrip as the Cessna 208 got to within thirty feet of him and began to turn off its single engine. The moment the propeller blades stopped, the side door of the plane had opened and one man who wore khakis came out. Hendrik walked over to him as he pulled out his duffel bags from the plane’s fuselage and placed them on the ground next to him.
Hendrik stood beside the man as he put out his hand. “Mr. Winchell? I’m Hendrik Visser, your professional hunting guide. We spoke on the phone a few days ago.”
The man turned around and shook his hand. He was pale, balding and wore steel-rimmed glasses. There was a Twins baseball cap on his head. “Call me Langdon, please. I’m so happy that you decided to honor your commitment to me because I had planned this trip for months in advance.”
Hendrik grinned sheepishly. “The truth of the matter is I had already spent the money you sent over. So there wasn’t any way I could refund you. Let me help you with your bags.”
“And I appreciate that.” Langdon grinned as he handed over two large duffel bags he had placed on the ground but slung a third over his shoulder. “But I’ve also wanted to make an additional arrangement with you now that we are here face to face.”
Hendrik shook his head in confusion. “An additional arrangement? What do you mean?”
Langdon smiled back at him. “Let’s talk in your car shall we?”
Both men brought the bags over to Hendrik’s dark green Toyota Land Cruiser and placed them in the back, but Langdon continued to carry the third duffel bag over his shoulder and then placed it on his lap as he slid into the front seat. The plane started its engines again and began to taxi to the back of the runway. Hendrik sat down on the driver’s seat and looked out into the vast Savannah beyond.
“This current booking I made with you, I know it’s awkward with all these things that are happening in the world right now. I’m sure your business must be suffering just like everyone else’s,” Langdon said as he smiled and looked out of the windshield. “But I would like to make an additional booking, if you don’t mind.”
Hendrik turned and looked at him. “An additional booking? What do you mean? Do you want to stay at the lodge for a few more days or weeks to hunt more lions?”
“Not just lions,” Langdon said as his smile turned into a wide grin while looking down at the bag on his lap. “I would like to hunt at least one male elephant. Maybe two.”
Hendrik looked down. “Mr. Winchell, that would be very hard to do because we will need to apply for a new permit and as you well know with this world crisis and the riots in Nairobi, I don’t think we will be able to get the licenses at all. It took me months
to get the authorization to hunt one lion for this trip and it must be done within the designated zones. As far as I know, most of the government workers here in Kenya have all abandoned their posts so how could I possibly get you those permits now?”
“You’ve answered your own question, Hendrik,” Langdon said. “Kenya, as well as the rest of Africa, and the world for that matter, is slowly shutting down. I had to pay an enormous amount of money to get a private jet to fly me over here. This means that without any kind of government supervision, we can do anything we want here. Do you get that?”
Hendrik sighed. “But the risks, Mr. Winchell, what about the risks?”
Langdon giggled. “What risks? You yourself said that the Wildlife Service has been pretty much gutted weeks ago. The world is slowly destroying itself and this means there are no more park rangers to enforce these stupid hunting laws anyway. I’m pretty sure you and many others are engaging in hunting to feed yourselves now that world trade has stopped, am I right?”
Hendrik looked away in shame. Just two days ago, he had to kill a zebra just to provide meat for his family. “This is true that people here now have barely enough to survive. We are only one step away from starvation now that all my clients except you are gone. I think I may have to close my business after this trip.”
“I can solve all those problems for you,” Langdon said as he unzipped the duffel bag and held it out to him.
Hendrik took a look at the inside of the bag and gasped. There were bound stacks of hundred dollar bills and a small plastic packet with raw, uncut diamonds on top of the heap. “W-Where did you get all of this?”
“I’m a partner in a pharmaceutical firm back in Minnesota,” Langdon said. “I’ve got all the money in the world, and I’ve been hunting big game for years. This so-called Glooming that’s affecting the Earth is not going to stop me from engaging in my favorite hobby. What I want from you is to just guide me to wherever I want to go in this country and hunt whatever kind of animal I want. Give me two weeks because that is the arrangement I set up with that flight crew that’s going to pick me up at this airstrip and I’ll give you everything in this bag. You’re looking at twenty million dollars plus in both bills and gemstones.”
Hendrik bit his lip. “You know of course that there isn’t much use for money in these parts nowadays? Everyone is bartering for basic necessities now.”
“I’m sure you can find someone who will take this. After all, once this crisis is over and everything comes back to normal again, you can finally retire as a rich man with all this cash and gold, right?”
Hendrik thought about it for a bit. His client was right. The world had now gone completely uncertain because of the unbelievable events that were happening. Just days before, one of Hendrik’s neighbors had disappeared, the entire family living in their winery estate when he had gone over there to try to barter for some supplies. The house and grounds were ransacked as if some giant beast had smashed down the walls. Hendrik had two grown sons along with his wife who managed the hunting lodge located near the Tsavo East National Park. Most of their workers had already left to go back to their villages because of the stories about evil spirits and strange gods that had returned to dispense both justice and terror across the entire continent. Just the night before, the entire family had to arm themselves as a small crowd of natives from a nearby village attempted to take over the compound but were driven away by warning shots. Hendrik knew that if his family was to survive somehow they would need to move away to someplace safe, even if he did not know where that would be. And if they needed to go, then money and jewels would be invaluable.
“Very well,” Hendrik said to him. “Two weeks. Then I get everything in that bag of yours.”
Langdon shook his outstretched hand. “Congratulations, you’ve made the wise choice!”
That night Langdon had dinner at the dining room of the hunting lodge. Since power was out weeks ago, everything was by lamplight and he spent most of the evening sitting by fireplace just watching the embers glow in yellow and amber hues while sipping on a bottle of scotch. Hendrik’s wife cooked and served dinner herself since all the servants had already gone. Langdon tried to make some friendly conversation with her but she mostly just ignored him. Hendrik’s two grown sons weren’t any friendlier as they mostly stayed at the porch of the lodge and stared into the night with rifles on the ready. As he was preparing for a bath using well water that Hendrik’s sons had placed in a free-standing steel tub, Langdon overheard Hendrik and his wife in a furious argument, but since they were speaking in Afrikaans, he really couldn’t get what they were saying, though it was clear what the argument was about. By morning, Langdon’s breakfast was already waiting for him on the dining room table when he came downstairs and he never saw the wife again. Hendrik stayed silent as he waited for him by the car.
At midday, they had made it to the entrance of the Tsavo National Park. Langdon noticed two very tall and thin African men who were waiting by a signpost just up ahead of them. They seemed to be wearing red cloaks along with just loincloths and sandals. Both carried spears. Langdon was suspicious at first, and became even more dismayed when Hendrik stopped the Land Cruiser and both men got into the back seat, right after they exchanged a few words in their local language. As the car started to move again, Langdon had begun to rub his nose. The two men in the back smelled of piss, sweat, and something else; an additional stench that was somewhat pungent and metallic, but he just couldn’t identify it.
Hendrik noticed Langdon’s discomfort at the odor as he kept on driving. “These two men are Maasai,” he said. “We need them to help navigate this area. They are excellent trackers.”
Langdon lowered the window beside his seat to allow more air into the car. “It would have been nice if they took a bath before they met up with us.”
Hendrik smiled as he kept his eyes on the trail ahead. “They smell that way because they rub blood on their bodies. It’s part of their culture and the lions of the area avoid them because of their scent. They can tell the difference between the Maasai and everybody else.”
“That’s nice, but how can I hunt lions if they scare them away?”
“They will not be with us when we hunt, they will bring the prey to us.”
“Oh, okay then,” Langdon said softly. He figured it would make things easier.
As the afternoon sun wore on, the two Maasai warriors conferred with Hendrik before setting off while Langdon sat down on a folding chair in the hunter’s blind and ate his packed lunch. When Hendrik joined him in the shade of the camouflaged tent, the two Maasai had already gone. Langdon had brought two bows with him, one serving as a backup in case his primary weapon had a malfunction. Both compound bows had 80-pound pull draw weights and looked nothing like the bows of old. These new modern bows had diagonal inner-cables, dual cams, stabilizers, built-in sights, and levered strings. Langdon had been working out in his personal gym for months before this trip so he was physically prepared for the rigors of bow hunting. He considered it more sporting to hunt large game with a bow rather than with a gun. Hendrik didn’t care either way. For him, it was a job and if his clients needed help, he always carried his Weatherby Mark V bolt-action rifle.
A number of hours had passed while both men waited patiently in the blind. Sure enough, the Maasai were as good as their word as a male lion, its mane a deep brown with streaks of tan, began to wander in close to the blind. A tap on Langdon’s shoulder by Hendrik and both men were instantly alert as they waited for a precise shot. Once the large beast was in range, it was just a matter of shooting the arrow in the rib cage behind its right foreleg- right where the heart was in order to bring it down. Langdon carefully placed an arrow on the shelf of his bow and waited. For a number of minutes, the animal kept wandering around but Langdon could just not get the proper angle for the shot. So when the animal turned its back on them, Langdon could no longer contain his enthusiasm and shot an arrow into its buttocks. The lion roared and began t
o limp away as Langdon readied another arrow. He sprinted out of the blind and started running parallel to the fleeing animal, he loved this part of the hunt. Hendrik made a silent curse to himself as he started running after his client. Langdon fired another arrow that embedded itself on the lion’s neck. The beast was seriously hurt but not fatally so. It began to charge at Langdon. The pharmaceutical executive from Minnesota was instantly shocked that such an animal had the guts to attack him. The lion made one last roar and made it to less than ten feet away from him before the large caliber bullet from Hendrik’s rifle blew the top of its head off.
Sweat poured from Langdon’s forehead as he pushed up his baseball cap slightly and wiped the salty sweat using his wrist as he noticed Hendrik walking up behind him. “Thanks,” he said. “I thought it was gonna maul me.”
Hendrik’s tanned face was a mask of stone. “Why did you take that shot while we were in the blind? It was a bad shot.”
Langdon smiled and shrugged his shoulders. “Sorry, I got a bit carried away there. We’ve been sitting around here all afternoon and I wanted to get this over with.”
“Get it over with? Are you in a hurry for something?”
“Yeah, I want to bag as many animals as I can before my days are up. This could be my last hunt, and I want it to be the most unforgettable,” Langdon said as he adjusted the body cam on his vest. He wanted to make sure that the camcorder he was carrying had videotaped all of it.
Hendrik snorted and shook his head. The man was insufferable. If it were not for the huge amount of money he was paying him, he would have canceled this stupid American’s hunting trip and refunded him his money minus expenses. The man was a poor hunter and it seemed he liked to inflict pain.
Half an hour later, the two Maasai went back to where the hunting blind was. Hendrik talked to them for a bit before Langdon noticed that the once mellow conversation in their language had all of a sudden become animated. It looked like they were now arguing about something. As the minutes passed, it seemed that Hendrik was about to hit one of the men with the butt of his rifle, but at the last minute, the old guide shouted at them as he pulled out a wad of dollar bills and gave it to the two Maasai before they turned around and started walking away in silence. Hendrik shook his head as he started walking towards the Land Cruiser parked nearby.