Rise of the Nephilim Page 3

  Father Gallo and Jude both retreated to the bar, where they could talk and give mother and son some room.

  “What do you think?” Jude whispered, turning to Gallo, as the priest wiped his forehead with a bar napkin.

  “He still needs observation, but if the demon has released control of the boy, then he should be over the worst of it. What did you learn from your inquiry? Forgive me if I was not paying much attention.”

  Jude mused for a second, “I’m not sure what to make of it. The demon was being pretty vague, but I have some things to think about now. We should return to the Vatican as soon as possible. Would you like me take Mrs….?”

  He was interrupted by a wild scream behind them. The two men wheeled around to see what the matter was. Danny’s mom had untied his arms in an attempt to free him from his bondage, and he had instantly gripped her into a tight hug and drawn her close. Blood was gushing from her neck, where the boy had bitten her in a blind frenzy.

  Jude ran to the boy and reflexively punched him across the temple, causing him to release his mother. In a flash, Jude situated himself behind the chair and placed the boy into a Full Nelson maneuver to prevent him from moving.

  “See what you made me do, Mother?” The child laughed maniacally. “Father says he misses you. He’ll see you soon!”

  Gallo performed a hasty triage to ensure the wound on the woman’s neck wasn’t critical and stood up with a righteous fury in his eyes.

  “This time we do not stop until you are gone, beast.”

  He rested his rosary around Danny’s neck and traced the sign of the cross on the child’s forehead. He looked directly into Danny’s eyes as he spoke every word of the ritual.

  The boy wriggled and screamed, trying to break Jude’s hold, but his frame was too slight to break the grip he was in. The amazing strength the possession had granted him was waning. Small cuts appeared all over his body, as if he were being attacked by a thousand tiny razor blades. The lights flickered off and on like a strobe. Objects around the room shook and fell from shelves. The television came to life and began changing channels at a break-neck pace. Father Gallo continued, sweat pouring from his brow.

  With a fervent final flourish, he thrust his hand forward to grip Danny’s forehead and yelled the final words of the passage, “…Ut inimicos sancta Ecclesia humiliare digneris, te rogamus audi nos. Amen.”

  The flashing lights continued for a second or two, but everything subsided into darkness as Danny’s screams faded. Jude felt the child’s body go limp and let go of him. .

  “Are you okay, Antonio?”

  “Yes, Jude. Do you have a light? We need to see to Mrs. Hawkins. She may need an ambulance.”

  Shaking, Jude pulled his phone out of his pocket and held down the power button in hopes that the demon’s energetic effect had not drained the battery. Luckily, it booted up.

  “This should work,” he claimed, as he turned on the flashlight and placed the phone face down to offer faint illumination to the room. “You see to Danny, while I take care of her.”

  He navigated his way over to inspect Mrs. Hawkins. She was still unresponsive, but the bite didn’t look especially deep, even if it was messy.

  “We need to find some antiseptic. I don’t trust the kid’s oral hygiene. She probably needs to go to the emergency room, but I think we can wait until we get Danny taken care of. How is he?”

  There was no response.

  “Antonio… how is Danny doing?” Jude asked a little louder to make sure he’d been heard.

  Again no response.

  “Antonio!”

  Jude looked over his shoulder to see what was wrong. Father Gallo was simply standing in front of Danny, staring down at him. A knot began to form in his stomach, as Jude approached and saw the tears welling in the priest’s eyes. Gallo confirmed his dread suspicion.

  “The boy is dead.”

  Chapter Five

  The flight back to Rome was filled with an awkward silence. Neither Jude nor Father Gallo had spoken much after leaving the Hawkins house. Mrs. Hawkins was in the hospital and would likely be jailed for child cruelty and wrongful death. From what Jude gathered, the Catholic Church had pulled some strings made it as if the two had never even set foot in the United States.

  Father Gallo was shaken by his experience in the house and was slowly slipping into a depression. He had never botched a case so badly before. It was even worse that it has been a child. Jude had tried to talk to him about what happened and assure him that he did all he could, but Gallo refused to discuss any details or even look him directly in the eye. Jude was worried for the man, but realized that only time would possibly heal his wounds.

  He had instead tried to keep to himself and was currently on his laptop typing up his notes regarding the experience. The entity’s comment about an upcoming reaping worried him. Was it a bluff, or was it something more? He shuddered at the memory of what he had seen. It was one thing to hear stories or watch a video of an exorcism, but to witness such an event was the stuff of nightmares.

  The pilot announced the beginning of landing procedures, so Jude started the process of stowing his belongings. Gallo continued staring outside the window, oblivious to the world around him. Jude gave him a small tap to gain his attention.

  “Antonio, we’ll be landing soon.”

  Gallo gave a non-committal grunt and began buckling his safety belt.

  “Listen…” Jude said haltingly, “I know you’re being pretty hard on yourself right now, but there is nothing you could have done. The boy was already in bad shape before we got to him. I promise you, we’ll come up with some answers.”

  The priest gazed forlornly at him with watery eyes. “I hope so, Jude. I hope so for all of our sakes.”

  * * *

  Emily stirred from under her sweat-laden sheets and moaned at the sound of the house telephone. The ringing stopped shortly after a sudden commotion arose in the kitchen downstairs. Images of an ethereal goddess faded from her mind. The bustling sound of London traffic generated a constant drone outside her window, as if to punctuate the fact that she was back in reality.

  Emily crawled out of bed to do some stretching, peered out into the hall, and gave a shout. “Mum! Are you downstairs?”

  Her mother was a regular in her house ever since her father had passed away. The arrangement was mutually beneficial. Her mom was able to feel useful to someone, and Emily appreciated having a maid and confidant.

  “Yes, Dearie! I’ll have breakfast ready for you soon” was the sing-song reply.

  Emily rummaged through her dresser and pulled out a T-shirt and pajama pants. Her mother ascended the stairs and walked in with a tray full of food.

  “Here you are, Love. Brunch is served! How did you sleep last night? Are you still having odd dreams?”

  “A little,” Emily answered cryptically. She hadn’t told her mother the details of her recurring dreams, but had felt like she needed to share it with someone. “I don’t know what it means, though. Who was that on the telephone, by the way?”

  “It was the school,” her mother replied. “They were calling to check on you and let you know Dr. Earnhart is covering your classes, until you are feeling better.”

  Emily placed her hand on her forehead in feigned pity, “My poor students! How will they ever learn with such a terrible old bore? I’m sure the boys will be utterly distraught!”

  Her mother laughed and playfully slapped her shoulder, “Don’t be such a tart! I’m sure your admirers will make do until you’re back on your feet. Now, I’m going to run to market for a tick. Honestly! You are twenty-eight years old and your cooler is absolutely barren! How do you eat? Lie back down and get some rest, ok? I can’t cover for you forever, and I’d like to see you rid yourself of this dark cloud hanging over you.”

  “Yes, Mum,” Emily said reluctantly.

  Her mother stood up and walked out of the room. Emily listened to her move throughout the house, until she heard the front door
shut. She placed her empty breakfast tray on the night stand and settled back into bed to reflect on her nightly adventures. Sleep slowly began to sneak up again. She closed her eyes and waited for her goddess to reclaim her.

  Emily… called out a voice that reverberated within her head… It’s time…

  Her eyes shot open in shock…

  Emily’s mother came back a couple of hours later to an empty house. No one had seen Emily leave her Chelsea townhome. If anyone she knew had seen her, they would have commented on the child-like expression she wore on her normally terse, face before she disappeared into the midday crowds of the city.

  Chapter Six

  Father Gallo shambled out of the Palazzo Apostolico, the papal palace and government office of the Vatican, and paused to soak in the sunlight warming his cheeks. He had survived his debriefing on the incident in the United States. The cardinal in charge of the exorcism office, the Vicar General of Rome, in fact, had initially been angry at the news of the botched expedition and the resources used to keep the Church’s involvement in it secret. After hearing Gallo’s testimony and the statement written by Jude, however, his concern shifted to discovering what, if any, message the demon had been trying to convey. Gallo was now tasked with this responsibility as penance for his hubris in conducting Danny’s case.

  “Holy Father, please guide my path, for I know not what I must do.” Gallo pleaded earnestly. He walked carefully down the steps of the Palazzo and crossed the courtyard into the opposing network of buildings.

  Gallo found Jude in the Vatican Library amid mountains of old books and scattered papers. He was disheveled from near sleeplessness and carried a wild look in his eye, as if driven almost to madness by his studies. The priest quietly observed his friend’s fervor from just inside the doorway. As much of an annoyance as Gallo had always found Jude’s blunt pragmatism, the man had an uncanny ability to uncover truths not many other were able to mimic. His doggedness and intelligence were what had eventually made him such a popular television host in America. His popularity, however, served as a double-edged sword. Gallo had faced staunch opposition, when he suggested Jude as a possible consultant. Some of his colleagues felt Jude would only cheapen their mission by commercializing it. Gallo had staked his word as a man of cloth that Jude would perform otherwise.

  Jude slammed his fist on the table.

  “Dammit” He yelled in a fit of rage. Realizing where he was, he spun around sheepishly to determine if he’d been heard. A couple of clerics on the other side of the hallway gave him disapproving glares. He spotted Gallo and quietly waved him over.

  “Antonio, I’m glad you’re here,” he said pacing in front of the table and motioning to the seat he had just occupied. “I hope the meeting was okay.”

  “I’ll live to see another day. You seem to have been busy, Jude,” Gallo observed, nodding toward the books on the table, as he situated himself. “Please, tell me how things are going.”

  “Slowly,” Jude admitted. “He didn’t leave us much to work with past some vague threats.” His eyes were staring downward through the marble floor in deep thought, as he continued pacing back and forth.

  “That demon mentioned some kind of reaping, but who really knows what that means. I figured the best way to begin gathering information is to look for historical cases of possessions correlating to significant events. I’ve found a number of accounts documenting rises in demonic activity occurring around such points in time. Look here.”

  Jude picked up one of the tomes and began flipping through bookmarked pages.

  “The same story repeats with some of the worst groups and rulers in history. Emperor Caligula of Rome became deathly ill, possibly poison, and made a miraculous recovery. He then became a sadistic hedonist who almost bankrupted the imperium, until he was ultimately assassinated. Elizabeth Báthory of Hungary suffered the loss of her firstborn daughter, which triggered a gruesome change in her demeanor. She began torturing young girls in the surrounding villages, even reportedly bathing in their blood to keep herself looking young.”

  Jude looked up from the book.

  “More recently, we have evidence of Hitler and his closest subordinates dabbling in the occult, all who hypnotized the German nation into committing unspeakable atrocities during World War Two. Even non-Christian sources have analog stories like the Oracle at Delphi being possessed by the spirit of Apollo to foretell the future or the avatars of Vishnu in Indian culture.”

  He leaned in closer.

  “Tell me what the Church knows of the pathways to possession. Pretend I’ve never been exposed to the lore.”

  “Well,” Gallo answered,” the most common pathways of possession exist because a person becomes vulnerable due to sin in their life and the lack of repentance. It can also be the result of apostasy or a curse or even, God forbid, willful invitation. What point are you trying to make?”

  Jude replied, “Look at the issue without a religious perspective for a second. Major personal events tend to occur around the time of possession. Maybe the gateway is not sin or a curse per se. Maybe it’s the situation! Don’t you think the psychological stress of everyday life is enough to weaken a person’s mental barriers and allow for the loss of control?”

  He pulled a handful of case files from the pile of papers to his right and began laying them down one by one.

  “Joseph Merkel was laid off from his job and his wife had left him. This one, Angela Strong, survived a tragic car accident that simultaneously killed her husband. Robert Fisher had been molested as a child. Danny had recently lost his father and was possibly the victim of a neglectful mother. All of these people experienced traumatic events and suffered from them before they were taken. It doesn’t seem to matter how religiously active they were.”

  Gallo interjected at this point, “So if the practice of religion isn’t a major factor, then why do religious ceremonies work when casting them out?”

  Jude frowned, “I have no idea. There’s got to be something common to all of the rituals around the world that makes them work. There also has to be a reason some people are more susceptible than others. Almost everyone experiences something terrible at some point in their life. If the common factor was merely pain and suffering, everyone would be possessed…”

  “That’s exactly what these devils want, though, Jude,” Gallo said. “They want everyone to be so beaten down, that they can take whomever they please. I don’t like what that Akheron spirit said. The Vicar agrees and has given us every avenue to investigate this and act accordingly. If some new kind of woe is coming, we need to figure out just what it is and how to effectively combat it.”

  “Whatever it is, Antonio,” Jude said quietly, as he rubbed his tired eyes. “I think it can wait until tomorrow. Right now, I’m in dire need of a glass of wine. Do you know of a nice, quiet place to go near here?”

  “I know a great place on the Via Pomponio Leto. I quite agree with you on the drink. Don’t look so surprised, Jude!” Gallo laughed at the man’s raised eyebrow. “Even Jesus turned water into wine, and even an old retrogrado such as me can learn to relax every now and then. Allow me to change into my street clothes, and I shall accompany you.”

  Chapter Seven

  The wine bar was as small as the street on which it was located. Stone walls hemmed it in, and a low-vaulted ceiling shielded its twenty wooden tables and bar from the elements. Shelves of wine bottles lined the majority of the walls, reflecting smoky images of the candles separating the diners. Dim electric light glowed from the single bronze and glass chandelier dangling from the middle of the room. Replicas of Renaissance art shared wall space with the avant garde abstractions of local aspiring Michelangelos, punctuating the blend of ancient and modern in this more than two thousand year old city.

  Jude and Father Gallo sat at a four seat table in the back corner of the dining room. Jude had taken the chair facing toward the wall, while Gallo sat opposite on the long wooden bench spanning the length of the wall. Jude
swirled his glass of Barbera d’Asti thoughtfully.

  “I’ve been wondering, Antonio. Why did you choose to become an exorcist?”

  Gallo sipped his Chardonnay before beginning his story. “I had a feeling you would ask me eventually. Eight years ago I was on rotation pastoring a small congregation in Port Elizabeth, South Africa. The city is largely industrialized, but the general culture has not matured at the same pace. I encountered dozens of different mixtures of aboriginal religions, Christianity, Islam, and even Hinduism. I don’t know why that surprised me so much when I first arrived. Now that I look back, such a large port would be out of place without the mixing of so many different ethnicities and faiths.

  I had been at my post for a little over a year when one of the church elders approached me and introduced me to a woman I had never seen before. She had been crying and had torn her clothes in anguish, a normal custom in that area. She tried to communicate, but I couldn’t understand her specific dialect of Afrikaans. Luckily, the elder, her brother, was able to translate for me. According to her story, her daughter had fallen under the curse of a suspected warlock, after she had refused his advances. The accused attacker had conjured a Tokoleshe spirit to inhabit her body, and she had since only communicated in growls and was hostile to anyone who approached her. The poor mother knew her brother held me in high esteem and came to beg me to heal her daughter.

  I initially thought, as you pointed out in our first meeting, that the issue was surely due to some mental illness, and the mother was drawing unnecessary conclusions based upon recent events. I invited a local doctor - Hughes, I believe was his name - to accompany me, so that he might tend to the girl, while I prayed for her fast recovery.

  We arrived at a little village just outside of town. Most of the abodes were merely stick huts adorned with bits of tin roofing laid across thatch to protect them from the elements and used pieces of fabric for doors and windows. I had truly never seen such destitution before then. We found the girl imprisoned in a cage inside her mother’s house. What the poor woman had said was true. The girl was acting like some feral animal.