Father Monsignor Dominic Gallitravati opened his eyes
slowly. Never had he known as deep and satisfying a sleep as he had enjoyed
during the previous night.
Now, he was about to experience a shock of major
proportions. For he lay in a bed which was not his own and beheld a room about
him that he had never frequented before. In short, he had no idea where he was.
In fact attempting to recall where he had been the night before was just a
large black hole in his memory.
He originally worked in a large library situated in the
Vatican of Rome. He was a scholar of the more important works of theology held
in the building. The various forbidden texts and codices were under his
jurisdiction and often he was called to translate ancient texts and
inscriptions.
Lately, he remembered, with regret, he had been feeling
disillusioned and depressed by the whole religious bandwagon and ruefully had
decided that he had followed the wrong path with his career, but was unable to
do anything about it.
Looking about him he took in a large room which was
tastefully decorated It had a high ceiling and large windows with dark purple
drapes hanging at the side.
Directly facing the bed was a large ornate mirror. Its
surround was decorated with what looked like birds and animals which encircled
the glass. It was made in a dark wood which reflected a well polished sheen. A
truly attractive piece of furniture.
Throwing back the sheets and covers Dominic got out of the
bed. He found that apart from his shoes that stood by the bed, he was dressed
in his outdoor clothes. What had he been up to, he asked himself and why had he
climbed into bed with his clothes on?
The large windows allowed the sunlight to stream into the
room and as Dominic made his way across to them he wondered what scene he would
see through them.
Below the windows a small village sat. Dominic could see
people going about their business in carts or on horseback and everything
looked staid and peaceful. But where was he? The few signs that he could make
out from his window looked to be written in English of which he was conversant,
but had he left Italy?
If he was abroad, how had he made the journey and to where?
Then a sudden thought came to him. Had he his passport? If
he was abroad then that was the basic of his requirements. And what of money?
Dominic rushed over to a set of drawers and upon opening them, found them all
to be empty. Looking around the room he spotted a large wardrobe, but after
searching it he came up with nothing except for solitary coat hangers and bits
of wrapping paper.
Pulling on his shoes, Dominic made his way to the door of
his room. He gingerly opened it and checked outside. A large hall stretched
away from his door and He realised that he was in a hotel like building. Slowly
he walked along the hall, turned and descended a set of stairs and found
himself in a lobby. A large door which Dominic surmised, must lead outside was
at the far end of the passage and after opening it Dominic found himself on the
street. Walking a few steps down the street and looking back Dominic saw that
the building that he had awakened in was called St Michael’s Challenge and the
building sported a sign depicting the saint dispatching a dragon with his
sword. Stranger and stranger thought Dominic.
As he made his way down the road Dominic was greeted by a
salute or a nod from everyone he met. Dominic wondered if his clothes clearly
showing that he was a member of the clergy explained their deference or that
they were just friendly people. All the signs above the shops and at road ends
were in English and he realised that the fact that he spoke the language would
help his situation.
Ahead of him Dominic saw the familiar shape of a church and
as he neared the building he saw on the church’s board that it was named Our
Lady of Sacrifice, a Roman Catholic church, thought Dominic. Now I’ll find out
where I am.
He made his way up the path and upon turning the handle on a
very old studded, wooden door, pushed it open. The hinges gave a shriek and as
Dominic stepped into the gloom and acclimatised his eyes he detected movement
from the area before the altar. “Ciao,” said Dominic, forgetting that he was in
an English speaking country.
A very old priest approached Dominic from out of the darkness
and after appraising him, the old man stretched out his hand and taking
Dominic’s hand, shook it vigorously. “You are an answer to my prayers!” he
shouted loudly. “Now we can restore order!”
Dominic pulled his hand free from the old priest’s. “I don’t
know where I am or why I am here. Please help me Father, for I am going out of
my mind!”
Later as Dominic and the old man, whose name was Father
Francis Benholm, sat in the church’s rectory; Dominic recounted what had
happened to him. The old priest shook his head incredulously. “And you have no
recollection of how you got here?” he asked.
“But, Father. Where is here?” Dominic wailed. “I have told
you that I work in the Vatican
and somehow I have been transported many miles from there!”
“You are in the village
of Sentinel. We are in
the county of Wessex in England,” said the old priest
gravely. “You have come more than a thousand miles!”
Dominic was shocked and sat in silence. The questions raced
through his mind. Why? How could he get back to Italy? This was a nightmare and
when would it end?”
After a few minutes, Dominic broke out of his mental
quandary and looked over at the old man. “You said that I was the answer to
your prayers. What did you mean?”
The old priest hung his head and sat silently for a few
minutes before speaking. “I learnt last week that I am dying and that I only
have a few weeks to live. My duty here is very important, in fact absolutely
paramount to life on this Earth.”
Dominic laughed and shaking his head replied.” Father,
surely God’s message is a necessity, but as to its affect on the well being of
the planet. That is why He gave us our own minds and the ability to decide
morally whether an action is right or wrong. Surely that is what He requires of
us?”
Father Francis reached over and selected a book from a
bookshelf. Dominic could see that it was an ancient tome. The cover was made of
leather and looked well used. The title was written in Latin and translated as
‘Salvation’. Francis opened the book and handed it to Dominic. “That is a map
of our county,” said the old man. “You can see where Sentinel is situated,
right bang in the centre.”
“And this means, what?” asked Dominic gazing down at the
writing. “It translates to ‘Hell’s Mouth’, but surely not literally?”
Francis raised his eyes to the sky, “Yes, it is literal. Sentinel
is the stopper that prevents Satan’s army from emerging and controlling our
Earth!”
Dominic looked at the old priest and thought, he has lost
his marbles. The shock of the prognosis has pushed him over the side. This is
madness.
Francis looked up and saw Dominic’s face. “No,” he said. “I
am not mad. This is the truth! Come with me and I will show you!”
Returning to the church, Father Francis unlocked the door
and opening it allowed Dominic to enter the building. “We are to descend to the
cellars of this old place and then I am sure you will see what is happening.”
The stairway down to the basement was dusty and very dirty.
“No one comes down here, except for me.”
explained Francis kicking a bit of broken wood out of the way.
As they descended Dominic could feel the atmosphere
changing. Initially it had felt warm and musty, but now there was a
claustrophobic feel and a definite falling of the temperature.
“People think that Hell is hot,” laughed Francis. “If they
only knew the truth.”
Reaching the basement floor Dominic saw that large circles
of different metals were inlaid into the floor. Within the circle stood a large
cross that was engraved with what looked to be gold and silver. Latin and Greek
words were inscribed at the edge of the metal circles and over everything hung
a cloud of incense. Candles were lit around the periphery of the room and they
flickered in the breeze that blew steadily through the area.
“Behold, the Well of the Damned,” whispered Francis. “The
last bastion against the Evil One.”
Dominic looked about him. “And this is your role in life?”
he said. “To guard a superstition? Father someone has been fooling you. This is
just an example of some religious frenzy without basis. A boogie man to scare
the children with!”
Suddenly as if in answer a loud crash sounded from beneath
them and the candles wobbled on their supports.
Father Francis gripped Dominic’s arm. “You can’t say this.
It will only make them stronger. Don’t you realise?”
Another crash sounded and the floor seemed to distort
slightly. The atmosphere was freezing cold and the men could see their breath
in the air.
Father Francis took his rosary beads in his hand and began
to intone a prayer. Dominic looked on incredulously as once again a crash
sounded, but this time the floor with the inlaid metal circles rose high in the
air, before falling back into place
“Pray with me Father!” pleaded Francis. “We must calm them!”
Dominic crossed himself and began reciting a prayer for
salvation. He spoke in Latin as he was used to in Rome and soon the noise from beneath the
inlaid floor quietened.
Father Francis led him from the basement back to the church
above. As he locked the cellar door he gave a gasp of relief. “Thank you God
for your help and succour.”
Later, upon returning to the hotel where Dominic had woken
up, the hotel register was checked.
“There is no one booked into the room that you describe,
sir,” said the hotel manager. You say you spent last night in it?”
“Yes,” said Dominic sheepishly. “Would it be possible to
book it for a few nights?”
As Dominic had no passport, Father Francis had convinced the
manager that Dominic was a close friend of his and whose reputation he could
verify.
Francis had also lent Dominic some clean clothes and the
priest suggested that he go and have a long soak in a hot bath. They would meet
up the next day and try and sort out Dominic’s return to Rome.
Dominic lay on his bed feeling much better after washing and
redressing himself in the fresh clothes. As he lay he ruminated on his problem.
How had he got across to Sentinel,
England? To
find yourself in a neighbouring town without any knowledge of how you got there
was bad enough, but a country thousands of miles away – mind blowing!
His gaze went to the mirror hanging opposite the bed. It
really was a beautiful piece of work with its carvings. Looking at the glass he
was surprised to see that it was reflecting something other than the interior
of the room.
Getting off the bed, Dominic approached the mirror and
looked into its glassy interior. He started back in shock; he was looking into
his room back in Rome!
The bed was covered with a patchwork quilt which, his mother, God rest her
soul, had given him two years ago. A large dark wardrobe in which he kept his
clothes and vestments stood alongside the bed and Dominic could see the
painting of ‘St Michael and all Angels’ hanging on the wall. What was going on?
He turned and surveyed the room that he stood in. How had he got there?
Turning again to the mirror’s displayed image of his Italian
bedroom he searched its interior. The room was dark as if the curtains were
closed, but Dominic was sure that he could see the curtains held back by the
ornate hooks that he used, but what was stopping the light? He squinted and by
narrowing his eyes, could make out the obstruction.
For several moments Dominic just stood aghast. He felt faint
and shocked at what he had seen. Unable to take it in, he staggered away and
collapsed on the bed. He closed his eyes and began praying fervently. Surely
not, he thought. No it can’t be.
The first explosion rocketed him out of his revery, the
second had him on his feet and racing to the window. Below the hotel people
were running about in panic. Their screams and cries rising in the air as they
tried to escape. Smoke was pouring from the direction of the church and as it
rose in the clear air it transformed into a grotesque head with horns. This was
a personification of pure evil, thought Dominic. What had happened?
Emerging from his hotel Dominic instantly ran in the direction
of the church of ‘Our Lady of Sacrifice’. He felt sure that was where the
disruption was happening. Terrified people, displaced from their homes, fled by
him. More explosions sounded and Dominic was shocked to see a creature that
looked, for all intents and purposes, like a great spider, race round the
corner of a building ahead. Its multilensed eyes swivelled this way and that,
picking targets to release their venomous poison which they spurted out of
mandibles on either side of their heads.
Dominic turned and saw what the beast had fixated on; it was
a little boy, who stood crying. He had run off or had been forgotten by his
parents. Dominic ran across and picked the boy up, just dodging the poisonous
cloud of liquid that struck the road where the boy had stood.
“Let’s get you back to someone who can look after you,” said
Dominic as he made his way towards the church. By now the streets were filling
with more and more of the spiders, as well as snake like serpents which snapped
at the passing escaping people.
Just as Dominic approached the corner of the street where
‘Our Lady of Sacrifice’ was situated a weeping lady rushed up and plucked the
little boy from Dominic uttering cries of thanks for his bravery.
“Take him somewhere away from the church!” shouted Dominic.
“You must get as far away as possible!”
As the woman ran off with the boy Dominic turned the corner
and was horrified at what was occurring.
Dense black and yellow smoke poured from the church.
Creatures of all types, most unknown to man, were rushing out onto the street.
Dead bodies lay all about the front of the church and Dominic could see some of
the spiders feeding on their flesh.
Dominic carefully made his way up the street staying in the
shadows in an attempt to avoid being noticed. Then he saw the body of someone
whom he knew. It was Francis!
The priest was lying amidst puddles of blood. Dominic could
see a sizeable wound on the back of his head, which he assumed was where the
blood had come from.
“Francis,” said Dominic as he picked up the priest.
“Francis, are you alright?”
As he spoke, Francis’ eyes opened and as he recognised
Dominic, he smiled. “Seems like they have escaped. They must have been
monitoring my strength and had detected the cancer. They just waited until they
thought that I was my weakest, to break free.”
“What can I do?” asked Dominic.
“You must do what you were sent to do- return these hellish
creatures back to their abode and close up the rift!” hissed Francis, his eyes
suddenly blazing. “There is no time to lose!”
Dominic stood up and looked about him. The smoke from the
church was getting thicker and more and more creatures were emerging.
“But what can I
do?” repeated Dominic feeling suddenly very vulnerable.
Francis looked up at him and once again smiled. “You have
the key within your head. All you have to do is use it.”
Dominic closed his eyes searching for ‘the key’ that Francis
had stated he possessed. All at once he saw pictures in his mind of all the
literature that he had had to read while in Rome. The forbidden grimoires and the black
codices. All the information from these esoteric tomes was in his brain and all
he had to do was use it.
Pulling Francis over to the side of the street he made sure
that the priest was safe before he turned again towards the door of ‘Our Lady
of Sacrifice’. As he made his way across the road he heard Francis shout, “Go
with God Dominic!”
Suddenly words in Latin and Greek were pouring from
Dominic’s mouth. He raised his arms and made the sign of the Cross as he
approached the entrance to the church, smiting spiders, serpents and other
things with his power. The creatures in his wake lay where they had been struck
and slowly began melting, their foul ichor running into the gutters and drains.
Once he entered the main building the words that issued from
him changed and the language changed to that of the Sumerians. The pitch
blackness that had existed within was suddenly lit with a shining globe that
radiated and coruscated driving the evil that existed out and back to its
origin.
Soon Dominic stood in the cellar and saw the broken floor
with the bent and mangled circles of metal lying broken. Now he pointed with
his right hand and shook his left in defiance. Once again his speech changed
and now ancient Sanskrit could be heard echoing around the chamber. Slowly the
floor of the basement began to repair itself. Bricks rearranged themselves and
affixed themselves together. A loud groaning could be heard as the great metal
circles began to reorient themselves and move slowly back into position.
Dominic continued with his diatribe until only a very small gap existed in the
now reformed floor. Just as the last bricks began to move towards their final
resting places the head of the most loathsome creature Dominic had ever seen
emerged from the gap. It was like a large slug with a massive head and as it
opened its maw slime and stinking liquid poured onto the ground. Slowly it was
breaking through the relaid floor. Dominic was suddenly struck dumb and could
only look on in terror as the creature rose from the rent in the floor.
“Dominic!” a voice shouted from behind him. “Throw this at
it!” It was Francis. He had struggled into the church and reaching up handed
Dominic a small bottle.
“What is it?” screamed Dominic.
“Never mind!” the priest shouted. “Throw it!”
Dominic had been an excellent bowler when he had played
cricket at the theological college where he had studied and been ordained. Now
all his muscle came into play as he lobbed the bottle towards the monstrosity.
It sailed through the air and broke against the blue grey skin of the creature.
Seconds later with an unholy screech, it suddenly dissolved and vanished
through the hole.
“Now!” shouted Francis triumphantly. “Close it!”
Once again Dominic felt information flow down from some higher
centre in his memory and his mouth opened and words, verbs, adjectives and
adverbs from a past time flowed from it. The mighty globe of light that had
hung lighting up the attempted escape of Hell’s minions fell as if commanded by
Dominic and vanished into the closing hole and a cataclysmic explosion sounded
from deep down below and flame rushed through fusing the rent shut. – It was
over!
Dominic turned to speak to Francis. The priest had collapsed
onto the floor and he was panting from the exertion of entering the church.
Dominic fell onto his knees and cradled Francis’ head. “We
did it, Francis. We did it!” But the priest looked white and he grimaced as the
pain from his head wound stung.
“Yes, we did it but I am afraid it has done for me too. Would
you grant a dying man one request, please?”
Dominic looked down sadly at his friend, “Of course
Father…anything.”
“Would you stay as priest for ‘Our Lady of Sacrifice’ until
another incumbent can be found who has the natural talents to keep Hell at bay?”
Dominic took Francis’ hand in his and said quietly, “Or I
could stay here as the permanent priest. I don’t think I will be returning to Rome.”
“But why?” asked Francis. “God brought you here for a
purpose, a very important purpose and now you have done what was asked of you
why should you not be returned?”
“Because Father, I had lost my faith in the weeks before I
was brought here and had come to a decision. A decision which probably was the
reason I was brought here. I felt I had lost my way and that nothing could help
me.”
“But, you have a career back there, a vocation,” said
Francis. “Surely you can forgive yourself, God can.”
Then Dominic told the priest of his final hours before being
transported to Sentinel, the deep doubts that he had and finally an inability
to go on, and that he had seen his mortal remains hanging from a hook in the
corner of his room in Rome.
“I will remain here and look after the people of Sentinel
and try to atone for my terrible sin,” said Dominic quietly as Francis closed
his eyes for the final time and like the mist at dawn – slipped silently away.
……………………………………………+……………………………………………
Cairniehill
Arbroath 26.04.15
