EXCERPT Angela stared in horror. Gone were the tuxedos and the animal masks, and in
their place each one of the thirteen wore a white, hooded robe.
They surrounded the car and peered in at her. She tried to close and lock the
doors, but they were too quick. She sat up on the seat, right in the middle, as
far from them as it was possible to be, yet uncomfortably aware that her short
robe was revealing the light brown flesh of her upper thighs.
“What do you want? What are you doing? Get away from me!”
Hands reached into the car, touching her, grasping her, dragging her out. They
touched her everywhere, as though some multi-armed blind creature wanted – no,
needed - to explore every inch of her. She screamed as they carried her towards
the house. Through the stone porch with its scarlet seats they went, Angela
held helpless and still screaming between them. A crowd awaited them in the
great entrance hall, and a deafening cheer arose the moment they appeared.
She was carried through the crowd, her screams filling the room and her eyes
filled with tears of terror and anguish. She hardly saw the crowd. There were
dozens of them, perhaps hundreds, a mixture of villagers and the hall’s own
domestic servants. They wore the clothes of another century and all had the
same fixed smile on their leering faces.
She caught a glimpse of Gladys through the press of bodies all around her, and
Angela’s first instinct was to scream out to her, but she had enough about her
to refrain from doing so, not wanting to implicate Gladys in her actions. It
might have made little difference, for as she passed by where Gladys was
standing, she saw that her hands were tied and that the two large, hooded men
who stood on either side of her were holding on to her arms. And then she saw a
third man, and the knife in his hand. In horror, she watched as it was raised
and then whirled round in a great arc, and she saw the blood and heard Gladys
scream.
Angela screamed too, and then she closed her eyes and asked God to forgive them
and to deliver her from their evil.
They carried her through the entrance hall, behind the sweeping staircase and
down some narrow stone steps leading into a long stone walled corridor. Water
dripped from the dark, dank walls as they passed, until finally they arrived at
the auditorium she had looked down on earlier. She was carried inside and to
the stone altar she had seen, in the centre of circle surrounded by symbols
recently drawn in white chalk on the black stone floor.
Here, they manacled her to chains set into the stone altar, one on each ankle
and wrist, and they daubed her with red dye between her eyes, between her
breasts, and between her legs. They formed a ring and waited.
To struggle would have been pointless. She waited, saving her energy, her
frightened eyes frantically studying the thirteen hideous masked faces that were
weirdly illuminated by flaming torches in ancient iron torch holders set in the
black stone walls.
Around them on all sides was the multi-tiered viewing gallery, almost every box
occupied by gnarled and shapeless individuals, inhuman faces looking down not
with pity but with curious excitement. They were the same faces she had seen in
the village earlier. She had doubted her own eyes at the time. Now she could
have no doubts of what was real and what was not. This was her reality now.
Without any discernible signal the masked men all set off a strange and
terrifying humming noise, their masked heads wobbling up and down in grotesque
uniformity. The humming became steadily louder and then, as suddenly as it had
started it stopped. The silence, terrible and ominous, pressed in on her until
she could bear it no longer.
“No! Please! No! Let me go! Please let me go!”
Jamie stepped forward. Despite the mask she could tell it was he.
“No! Jamie? Please! No!”
He held a wooden staff that was as tall as he was, and with it he drew an
inverted pentagram in the air above Angela’s head.
“In the east I bring darkness.”
They all raised their hands towards the spot, some invisible point in the space
high above Angela’s head, to which Jamie was pointing his staff. They followed
him, every eye following the direction of his staff as if they saw something
there that Angela could not.
“In the east we bring darkness!” they cried out in unison.
He walked around her body to her left, his head held back, and once again he
drew his inverted pentagram.
“In the south I bring darkness.”
“In the south we bring darkness!” their voices roared.
He walked around until he stood at her feet and again drew the shape in the air
with his staff.
“In the west I bring darkness.
“In the west we bring darkness!”
And then he walked to the right of her writhing body.
“In the north I bring darkness.”
“In the north we bring darkness!”
Finally, he returned to his starting point behind her head. She tried to look,
but she could not see him.
“Around us darkness, within us darkness, upon us darkness.”
“Around us darkness, within us darkness, upon us darkness,” repeated the
others.
As these words were spoken, four of the masked men split from the ring that
surrounded her and each of them went to one of the four walls to extinguish one
of the torches. The only light that remained was the light of the moon shining
through the eastern window high above Angela’s head.
As each light went out its aura hung in the air, changing and shining. Shapes
swirled around the aura made of smoke and light and mist, and the Thirteen held
hands to re–form their circle around her. They threw back their heads, their
eyes closed, and the humming started again.
“Oh mighty Lucifer!” screamed Jamie in a frenzy of excitement, “our Leader, our
Master, our God! Accept our offering! Accept from us now the seed of the
evocation in the womb of a virgin of the blood! For You will be made flesh and
come again and You will rule again! Here on Earth You will rule as Rex Mundi,
the King of the World! Oh bring light unto this darkness and accept this
earthly seed! Your time has come again, oh Great One! Oh Bringer of Light! Oh
Ruler of Flesh!”
Jamie entered the circle, which closed again around him and around Angela. The
image of her dead mother came into Angela’s mind and she cried out, “Oh Jesus,
why are they doing this?”
No sooner had she spoken, Jamie fell on her like a wild beast. Her legs
strained to come together but the manacles did their job, leaving her utterly
defenceless.
| 
Children`s Fiction
Non-Adult Fiction
