“Dad, I’m going and there’s nothing more to say!” Angelique’s voice sounded more tired than she felt, as she kept packing.
“Your sister chose her own path when she married that miserable excuse of a man. I forbid you to go to her!” her father raged, stalking from one end of the bed to the other.
“Forbid? Excuse me, but I’m twenty four years old, not twelve. I pay you rent for this lousy room, which entitles me to some privacy, and even if you are my father you have no right to order me about anything!” she raged right back at him, “Kelly is my twin. You can’t understand what that means, Dad, you’re not a twin. Go talk to mom. Maybe she can understand it, but I’m going and there’s nothing you can do about it! ... Please, get out of my room!”
Now she was standing right in front of him with her finger pointing to the door. He fumed in her face a few moments longer then he left. He banged the door closed so hard it jumped open again. Angelique just sighed heavily and finished packing.
Most of the first year, Kelly’s letters were happy. She said Dale cared for her well-being. He was a devoted husband. Kelly said that the other people in the house where she lived were really nice to her, too. She especially liked Szandor Vagler, the man who owned the townhouse. Then about the time of her tenth month anniversary, which was near Halloween, she began to write less about the people and more about shopping, the weather, and her health being poor. Angelique began to worry, but did not get really concerned until her last letter arrived. Her hand writing was so shaky it was impossible to read, and she babbled about her flowers. Angelique was really getting scared, so she called Kelly and told her she was visiting and asking if she had a room.
“Angelique, I don’t think you should. What about your job?” Kelly sounded too nervous.
“You’re not going to dissuade me, Kelly. I’m the only one left who can help you when you need me, and you won’t ask for help.” Angelique replied in a tone with which Kelly never argued.
“I don’t need help with a thing Ange, really. I’m just a little sick that’s all. Besides, Dale doesn’t want you here, and ...”
Kelly was starting to say something more when the phone was snatched from her. Then Dale took the line. He was more than amiable, he was actually cordial.
“I think it would be very good for Kelly if you came to stay a while; perhaps a week or two?”
“Thank you, Dale. I was thinking about two weeks, but may stay longer if it’s all right with you. Don’t worry. I have to commute into New York, so I’ll still be going to work, and won’t be freeloading off of you.”
“I wouldn’t have accused you of it, Angelique. You can stay as long as you like.”
With that, he hung up - but not before Angelique heard his malicious chuckling.
The townhouse they called home was a foreboding monster of Gothic architecture. It was all dark grey limestone with massive black walnut doors. There were satyrs and nymphs everywhere on the fascia and all over the outside. A carving of Pan and a group of satyrs and nymphs covered most of both entrance doors. Inside, the halls and stairs had satyrs and nymphs staring at you from every corner, also. The building was four and three-quarters stories high, and the top was flat. The three-quarter story was curving with three front dormers.
Kelly and Dale lived on the third floor. After Angelique wrung their bell, she was shocked when her sister answered. She had always been a slight girl. Their mother called them her Snow White and Rose Red. Kelly was small, about five feet even, and weighing no more than ninety pounds. She had crystal blue eyes, jet black hair, and skin like ivory. Angelique was five feet seven, weighed one-fifty, had misty blue-green eyes, bright auburn hair, and her skin always looked coppery and tanned.
What greeted her at the door was a living skeleton. Kelly wore a black turtleneck sweater and a long black skirt so only her face and hands showed - but at that she was pallid. Her hair looked like filthy straw. Her eyes were clouded, and if she weighed sixty pounds, she was doing well.
“Twin!” Her voice sounded gruff but her smile was bright.
They embraced in the hall for a long while, then Kelly led Angelique in. The apartment was immaculate and beautiful. The nymphs were gone from the wood work, but still all the frames were ornately carved. Three of their five rooms were paneled in carved mahogany.
“You seem to live very well, Kelly. Why do you look so bad?” Angelique asked.
She stalled for a moment then quickly said, “I’ve been sick that’s all. Andrea keeps my house for us.”
The finality of her tones led Angelique to believe she would answer no more questions. Dale greeted Angelique like a long lost friend, but when she asked him what was wrong with Kelly, he would not answer. He merely restated that she was “sick” and would say no more.
In the first week of the visit, Angelique met Andrea, who lived across the hall. She was a willowy young woman of about twenty-six. She seemed to be rather scatter brained, but she was an expert herbologist. Angelique later found out she was a pharmacy school dropout.
Upstairs was “Preacher,” a young man of considerable learning, who was a divinity student, but he wouldn’t say for what denomination. Below was Andrew and Manni Toreles, a sweet looking couple who were often in Andrea’s apartment. Neither of them ever left the house, or so it seemed. Across from them was a giant named Maxamillian Ortez and Karl Schutz. Angelique rarely saw either of them, but Karl would stare at her lustily whenever they did happen to meet. It got to the point where she would walk up the stairs rather than take the elevator with him.
The entire first floor was owned by Szandor Vagler. He was an Old Country type of gentleman. Angelique had many talks with him in the hallway. He was very distinguished looking, with a very neat goatee and small moustache. His hair was jet black with white streaks through it and very thick. He was about six feet-seven inches and always dressed like a gentleman - always in either an impeccable suit or a smoking jacket. His eyes were his most striking feature. They were dark, almost black. When he was of an animated frame of emotion, his eyes sparkled, but when he was angry, they would throw fire. In the basement lived someone, but Angelique never learned a name nor had she ever seen the person.
Angelique stayed with Kelly for three months. Meanwhile, she continued seeing her boyfriend, Daniel, but would never let him in.
“Ange, something’s bothering you.” he said with concern, one night after they made love.
“It’s nothing you should worry about Dan.” Angelique replied with a smile.
“Come on, tell me.”
“M-m-m, you feel so good.” she replied as she ran a hand down his strong leg.
“You’re avoiding the question.” he said while nibbling her neck.
“I’m just concerned about Kelly. She’s not herself anymore. She never had allergies or any other conditions before, and now she’s practically a dope fiend. Kelly’s taking all kinds of medication that has her jumpy as a cat on a hot tin roof, so she takes tranquilizers. This makes her walk around half stoned. She never knows where her head is.”
“Well, Baby, if she needs the stuff, she needs it. If it really upsets you, ask her doctor if the dosage can be cut down.” He went on nibbling her ear and throat as his hand took an exploratory journey.
“It’s not just that. Kelly’s in mortal fear all the time. You remember, nothing used to scare her. Now, if she ever leaves the apartment, if she meets other tenants, she cringes and walks around like a church mouse. She’s even afraid of me for pity sake!”
Sacul had stopped his playing, as she seemed uninterested. He now sat up and lit two cigarettes.
“Well, maybe she has delusions that everyone means to hurt her. If she’s always that hyped-up, she could be getting psycho.” he said.
“No, Dan. Kelly is made of sterner stuff. If she’s afraid of those people, she has a reason to be. It’s worse Thursday nights, too. You notice I’m told to go out Thursdays? Szandor has some kind of meeting or other on Thursdays. I don’t think he knows anyone outside the building, and that house is a beehive on Thursday.”
“So … maybe he has a party for the tenants on Thursdays, so what?”
“Dan, be realistic. If it were just a party, why can’t I come? I’m a tenant now, too. I’m paying one-fifth of Dale’s rent. No, it’s something very private and very special.”
“He’s a rich, eccentric old man. He’s entitled to be special.”
“Well then, there’s Dale!”
“Hey, don’t get angry with me. I’m just trying to ease things.” he said.
“But you don’t see these people every day, and you don’t see what Kelly puts up with. You don’t see how she reacts to him.”
“OK. I’m sorry ... What about Dale?” he asked.
“Kelly has good reason to be afraid of him, and incidentally, she’s terrified of him. He beats her and he’s an absolute animal when they make love. He hurts her a lot. I’ve tried to stay out of it, because Kelly asked me to. I don’t think I can any longer. Dan, she cringes every time he comes near her. They sit together watching TV or something, and at first glance, you’d think they were an average happy couple. If you look close, you can see that Kelly is very tense.”
“Well, Ange, I think you should stay out of it until you see him hurt her, then call the cops and have the mother fucker put in jail.”
“I don’t know, Dan.” she replied uncertainly.
“Come here!” he said as he grabbed her, placing her across the bed, and smothering her with kisses. They made love again then dressed to take her home.
Sacul turned off the car and turned to Angelique with a smile.
“So, you want me to walk up with you?” Sacul’s voice was soft and caressing.
“No. ... ” Angelique said tiredly. “I’ll manage. I’ll see you next week?”
“You bet. Oops, no. Next Thursday is Enid’s birthday. The week after, OK?”
“U-m-m, OK. But, I’m not so sure I like sharing you!” She pouted. “When’s she going to school anyway?”
“She starts kindergarten this spring. You only have to share me for two more months!”
Both laughing, they kissed a long hot kiss.
“One more like that hot lips, and I won’t let you go!” Sacul said.
“Oh, Daniel, you have to get up in the morning and so do I, so quit stalling.”
“Yea, but it’s only ten o’clock. That’s an early night.”
“I have to wash my hair sweet stuff, and I can’t sleep in rollers, so it has to be dry before I go to bed. I have to look pretty at work, so my boss will give me a raise ...”
“Enough! You win! Now give me another kiss and get out of here before I rape you.”
Angelique watched Sacul drive away from the house, then as she turned to go in, she caught the drapes of Mr. Vagler’s front window close. He had been watching her. It gave her a moment of creepy chills, but she walked up the steps with confidence.
“Miss Carlyle, won’t you please come in for a night cap?” He asked lightly from his door. He had just caught her on the second step.
“Well, I do have a bit to do before I go to bed.”
“I shan’t detain you long, my dear.” His manner was so sweet, and she was very taken by his charm.
“Very well, but only one, please. I’ve had quite enough for one night.”
The sitting room, which he led her to, was very finely furnished. The sofas were French Provincial and looked antique. Everything about this man was old, dignified, and costly. There was so much gold around him and all of it real - from the gold leaf of wall carvings, to the gold picture frame over his fireplace; even the glass in which he served her, had a gold filigree over glass.
“You must be a very wealthy man, Mr. Vagler. ...”
“Please, call me Szandor. May I call you Angelique?”
“Yes, of course. Almost everyone calls me Angie or Tish, if they went to school with me.” she said watching his face. His puzzled expression led her to explain, “I was married in my junior year of high school. He was killed in Iraq. My last name was Tishler, so everyone from my school and business school days, calls me Tish.”
“I’m sorry to hear that you are a widow.”
“I’m not. He was a bastard. He got me pregnant, my dad forced him to marry me, and then he beat me until I miscarried. When he was drafted, we were starting to get a divorce. He decided to wait on that until after he got out of the military, so that he could claim me as a dependent. Instead, he was killed on active duty, and I collected a survivor’s benefit from Uncle Sam - for nothing. It’s almost like getting free money.”
“So, you are familiar with being mistreated.” Szandor said almost to himself.
“Yes. I’ve been told I’m pretty strong, too. I’ve had a couple of bad sex related incidents and came out mentally and emotionally unscathed.”
“That’s very interesting. Well, now I know about your work and about your past, but I would like to know about your leisure pleasures; that young man for instance, are you serious about him?”
“Yes. ... You know this drink is good. Maybe I will have another ...”
“Do you like to drink?” He asked.
“Not too much, just some things, sometimes. Tonight is Dan’s and my first anniversary of meeting each other.”
“I see. Are you two planning to get married?”
“I’m not. I don’t think he is either, although, if he wanted a wife and mother for his daughter Enid, he’d marry me. Enid is doing OK without a mother, and Dan is marriage shy ...”
“A bad one with the child’s mother?”
“That and his own parent’s rotten marriage. We’re very serious about being good friends. We can really depend on the other when it’s needed. We don’t have strings tying us to each other.”
“Do you have a sexual relationship with him?”
“I don’t see where that’s any of your business, Szandor.” Angelique answered a bit too testily.
“Forgive me for being presumptuous. I didn’t mean to be rude.” he apologized and almost blushed.
“OK, OK. Yes, we do, but it’s because we’re friends and we need each other. He helped me believe in myself.”
“Have you ever doubted yourself? I find that hard to accept, my dear. You always appear so sure and so above everything. You always seem in control.”
“Thank you,” I answered, “I’m not always in control, but I guess my good show is partly Daniel’s doing. He gave me faith in myself and showed me I’m number one in importance. No one else could ever get me to believe that, and I always ended with the short stick. But, now it doesn’t matter, because now I know good or bad, I’m doing my own thing.”
“I see ... Tell me, Angelique, have you any interest in the occult?”
“Passing, why?” she curiously replied relaxing into the soft chair.
“I was just wondering. I’ve seen you wear amulets at times. I am an occultist.”
“Figures,” she said under her breath, “most of the amulets are gifts from clients. I have a passing interest in the occult because that’s news now. As a photographer and writer, I have to give people what they want.”
“Have you witnessed any rites of black magic?” he asked. Szandor’s eyes now were sparkling again, although Angelique thought it may have been the wine. That second glass was making her vision fuzzy.
“Only a Black Mass performed by a defrocked priest; I had to go to Syracuse for that one. I imagine there are worse and greater things here in New York, but I haven’t seen any.”
“There are, as you say, worse and greater things here. A simple Black Mass is mockery, not magic.”
“Well, I thank you for the wine, Szandor, but I must be going. I have a lot to do to make myself presentable for tomorrow.” Angelique put the half finished drink on the table beside her chair.
“Do you have pressing engagements for tomorrow?” he asked.
“No. All I’ll be doing tomorrow is writing, but I have an idiosyncrasy about looking sharp all the time for work, whether I’ll be seeing clients or not. As long as I call in, I won’t really be missed if I don’t show up.”
“Can someone call in for you, if you are indisposed? I would hate to think your employer would pull you out of a sick bed just to call in.”
“Oh, of course someone could call in for me. Jack is real understanding about my not coming in. He knows I’m living with Kelly and Dale and that I’ve been concerned about her health. Actually, he’s been surprised I haven’t taken any time off yet.”
Szandor’s eyes flashed and a smile stole over his face, but he repressed it quickly. He helped Angelique rise from the chair, holding her wrist a while before he led her to the door. As they passed the hall, which goes under the stairs, Angelique noticed a very strong odor of incense coming from what was the ballroom. The doors appeared to be locked, but light and incense filtered out through the transom.
She continued upstairs - noting that the entire building smelled of incense - to her room to undress and to take a long hot shower.
When she got into Kelly’s apartment, she passed by her sister’s bedroom. The door was open, and Kelly was lying naked. Her white body, nude, was made more pale by the black satin sheets. She was so thin, and her entire body was covered with welts, burns, and cuts. Again, Angelique cursed the animal she married.
Undressing in the room, and then gathering her night wear, Angelique went into the bath and starting the shower. As she was luxuriating in the hot stinging drops of water, she heard Dale come in. He woke Kelly. Angelique usually would not interfere in Kelly’s affairs, but it was obvious that she was being abused. So, she cut the water down just enough to keep wet and warm, and listened.
“Not again Dale, Plea-ease.” Kelly pleaded. She was so weak her voice was like that of a specter.
Her moans were very rhythmic, so Angelique knew Dale was having sex with Kelly. Angelique was angry, for he never let her rest. To him, this was what was expected of a wife.
“No, Dale, please. Please, I can’t!” she pleaded.
“Shut up. You’ll do it!” he replied with venom in his voice.
“What’s going on now?” Angelique asked herself. Then Kelly started moaning again, but soon her moans turned to screams of pain.
Angelique ran into their room and froze just inside the doorway. She was appalled. Dale had laid her face up with her feet off the bed, then had tied Kelly’s wrists to either foot post of their four-poster bed. He then had forced her to arch over with her feet on the bed and had tied her ankles so that she could not unfold, and was standing on the bed fucking her in that position! Angelique watched for a few minutes, before Dale looked up and saw her. He froze in mid-thrust and stared at her, his face contorted by evil, animalistic lust.
In a blink, he had abandoned his wife and before Angelique could defend herself, he had secured her to the wall with his body. Dale smelled more like an animal than he looked. His hot sweating body had a rank odor, and his breath in her face made Angelique nauseous.
“What are you doing in here, you nosey bitch?” He snarled as he twisted Angelique’s arm.
“Trying to protect my twin from you, you miserable excuse of a man.”
Angelique had one leg free (he was leaning on the other), so she swung it up and kicked him in the kidneys. She never thought that ballet conditioning would pay off this way! He recoiled from her, but he did not let go of her arm. When he regained his senses, he smashed her against the wall again, almost knocking her unconscious. Dale then smacked Angelique across the face, hard, with the back of his hand. When her head cleared from the blow, Angelique hissed at Dale.
“Watch it, Dale! I’m not stupid like Kelly, and you can’t boss me around!”
Then she punched him in the groin with her free hand.
While he was doubled over, Angelique began to untie Kelly. Dale recovered faster than she expected. He then grabbed Angelique by the waist, threw her against the wall and again pinned her there with his body. This time, he was fully upon her, pinning both arms to her sides.
“Preacher! Andrea! Come in here,” he shouted, as he began to undulate his body against her. His prick was hard and throbbing. Dale was pressed against her so tightly, his rod rubbed against her pubic bone, hurting her. Angelique could not keep a pained look off her face, and he laughed devilishly, knowing that he was causing her discomfort.
“How would you like me to fuck you like that, bitch?” he snarled at Angelique as he grabbed her right arm with his right hand around her back. Now, he had both arms pinned with one arm, and with his left hand free, he roughly massaged her right breast.
“Dry up, Dale.” Angelique hissed though gritted teeth, outraged at his assault. “You try it and I’ll slit your throat.”
“Ha, ha, ha!” he roared. “With what?! You wouldn’t have enough brains left when I get done with you!”
He thrust at her, and his penis went between her legs slightly parting the vulva. Preacher and Andrea both arrived nude, bringing a strong whiff of the incense with them.
“Andrea, take Kelly. Preach, you help me with this fucking bitch.” Dale shouted.
Preacher smiled sadistically and took Angelique’s left arm in a vice like grip.
“Leave her alone, Andrea!” Angelique snapped, as she kicked out and tripped the girl before she could reach Kelly. Dale smashed her against the wall and attacked her again, and this time his prick penetrated. His thrust was powerful, and both being dry, Angelique felt as though he had ripped her in half. Suppressing the scream of pain and shock was impossible and Angelique saw Kelly stiffen. She could see what was happening.
“Try that again bitch, and I’ll fuck your brains out,” snapped Dale.
“I thought your brains were in your dick, Dale, and now, I know it,” Angelique snarled when she had enough air to speak. She was too enraged to cry.
“Come on, Dale. We’re supposed to take them both downstairs, now.” Preacher said softly. His eyes were full of lust, but he obviously was much better at control. Dale pulled out fast, the withdrawal almost as painful as the penetration.
“Shove that little tramp downstairs, Andrea. I’ll take care of this little jewel.” Dale said.
“I’m glad you convinced her to come, Dale. She’ll add some spicy changes to our celebrations. Things were getting dull,” answered Preacher, his voice soft and lusty, as he ran his free hand down Angelique’s back and pinched her ass.
“What celebration?” Angelique asked from between gritted teeth, as she struggled to get loose from the two captors.
“You’ll find out soon enough, Cookie,” Andrea replied with a laugh.
They reached the stairs, and Angelique finally managed to pull free of Dale. She grabbed Andrea’s hair and pulled down as she was about to, literally, shove Kelly down the stairs. Angelique yanked her so hard, Andrea fell to the floor, and Dale smashed Angelique in the face, again. Catching his hand, Angelique bit it. Preacher twisted her arm up behind her and roughly grabbed her left breast, crushing it against her ribs. He was incredibly strong for someone so short.
Kelly was whimpering and began, alone, to crawl down the stairs. Andrea got up from the floor and after rubbing her head for a few seconds, came at Angelique with her hands held like claws. She would have raked her pointed nails down Angelique’s body from the shoulders, had it not been for Szandor’s appearance at the foot of the flight. Kelly was within his reach. When she realized his presence, she froze. She pulled her legs into a fetal position and desperately clung to the balustrade.
“Andrea! I do not want Angelique marked. Bring them down here. We have some work to do,” Szandor commanded.
“What the hell is going on here, Szandor?” Angelique asked.
“Angelique, you are this night going to not only witness black arts of, as you say, a worse and greater nature, you are going to participate.” he said smoothly, a slight smile playing at the corners of his lips.
“Oh, really?” she said as she suddenly pulled her arms free from the two men.
Angelique curved her arms in across her chest, her hands fisted. Bending half over, she lashed her leg out behind and to her right, catching Dale in the groin with the heel of her foot. Simultaneously, she lashed out with both arms, catching Andrea in the left breast with her right hand, and Preacher in the nuts with her left - all this action in a blink of an eye.
Gaining her balance, she ran into Kelly’s apartment, slammed the door, threw the spring lock and ran for the phone. As Angelique waited for the police to answer the phone, she heard Szandor screaming something in an alien language, and soon heard him knocking on the door.
“Angelique, do not call the police. If you do, Kelly will be dead before they get here.” His voice was level and cold. He meant it. Angelique’s throat felt like she was trying to swallow an egg whole. She put her finger, reluctantly, on the cradle.
“Come and open the door, my dear,” he said sweetly.
Angelique sat for a long moment on the edge of Kelly’s bed. She did not know what to do. As an investigative reporter, she knew things like this happened, but she never suspected that this was the cause of Kelly’s ill health. She felt paralyzed by the horror of it.
“Angelique, come let me in. The others will not wait more than a half-hour before they start without me. Without me supervising, it will be harder on Kelly,” he continued. His tone was still even and calculating, but there was a note of compassion in it.
Slowly she went and opened the door to let him in. She stood in the foyer of the apartment with her hair dripping down on her legs, and her naked body bathed in the bright light from the outer hall. Szandor looked her over with the practiced eye of an experienced art critic.
“Come into the hall, Angelique. Before you are further insulted by these crude boors, let me appreciate your singular beauty.”
Angelique blushed at the compliment and felt rather foolish at feeling modest.
He reached for her hair and removed a strand that hung across her face. Pushing it back from her ears, he caressed them and her neck. Angelique felt the sharp contrast between her nakedness and his robed form. His black velvet hooded robe covered all but his bare feet, hands and face. Angelique’s hair covered nothing but her back and her right breast, partially.
She couldn’t explain why his cold gaze held her motionless as Szandor’s hands traveled down her throat and across her shoulders. His left hand followed the edge of the red wet strand which ran down her chest. Szandor brushed it over her arm around to her back. He gently touched the bruises on her breasts, his touch light and tantalizing, making her nipples erect. His right hand traveled up her neck, and he lightly touched the bruises on her face where Dale had struck her. Szandor’s touch was so gentle and light, he was firing her to excitement. Angelique gave a shiver and bit her lower lip.
“Ah, I am standing here admiring you, and you are getting chilled. Come, my dear. We shall proceed down to the festivities, where you shall be much warmer.” He put his arm around her waist and led her off to the elevator.
“Szandor, what have you monsters been doing to Kelly?” she asked bitterly. She could not explain why she felt so compliant to him. He had a certain magnetic control over her.
“You shall soon learn, my child.” He responded, as he trailed his fingers down her hair to her ass, where it ended. His hand cupped her left ass cheek, and he kneaded it gently. With an effort, Angelique slapped his hand away. Szandor’s magnetic hold on her made it difficult to resist his advances.
As the elevator reached the first floor, Szandor took Angelique by the shoulders and bent to kiss her. She turned her head away, with great effort, so he took her chin in his hand, his grip like a steel vice. He tilted her face up to his and planted a warm passionless kiss on her lips. As a wave of passion flowed through Angelique, she again shuddered. Her hands reached for him, before she could stop them. He kissed her again, this time passionately, and crushed her to him in a death like embrace. Her sense of reality began to slip. A portion of her deductive reasoning still worked as she realized he must have been nude under the robe. For as he held her so close, she felt his member grow hard against her stomach. Her breathing grew more shallow as his passion sparked her own. Angelique could not understand how she could begin to feel so impassioned so soon after being terrorized.
Szandor broke the kiss and held her at arms length by the shoulders.
“Maxamillian, take her!” he barked suddenly.
Rough, huge hands grabbed Angelique by the waist and yanked her out of the elevator. She was carried through Szandor’s apartment to the ballroom and unceremoniously dropped on the hard tile floor.
Flinging her hair out of her face and scrambling to her feet, she turned to swipe at the huge Brazilian, but he had backed into his place in the circle of people who surrounded her. All the tenants of the house except Kelly, who was slumped in a chair against one wall, were standing, in robes, in a circle around Angelique. They had their hoods drawn over their faces, so she could not see their identities. She could, however, distinguish the women from the men, because the women’s robes were chiffon - very thin and lewd. Szandor came in, closed and locked the door, and took his place in the circle.
Somewhere in the back of the room, a bell rang three times. They all started chanting and moving counter clockwise around Angelique. As they walked tightly around her at arms length, she watched them, waiting, for what she didn’t know. As they started to broaden their circle, she noticed the floor. At this moment, she realized she was standing in the center of a satanic pentagram. The fear returned and swallowed the anger and unrelieved passion that had been in her body.
Their chant was a strange language, but its sensuous rhythmic movement was compelling. Angelique soon found herself swaying to the beat, and sweating profusely, even though she was not moving. There was a musical background coming from some unknown source, and it now changed its beat. The music now became more arousing, and the dancers’ moments became more lascivious. Something in the heavy incense was causing Angelique to be very light headed; she stumbled and fell to the floor. She felt as though she had fallen through a tunnel, for all sounds seemed far away and rather vacant.
The dancers stopped their chanting and dancing, and they, themselves, fell to the floor after Angelique had fallen. But unlike her drugged sleepiness, the residents of the house began to mill about on the floor and to engage in orgiastic clutching and groping of each other. Before she knew what had happened, and could defend herself, someone had grabbed her by the ankles, another by the wrists, and she was stretched taunt against the floor.
It was Preacher who had her ankles. From the size of the hands she felt covering her wrists; Angelique figured it had to have been Maxamillian. Anyway, she tried, desperately, to free herself, especially when she heard Kelly scream and saw Dale and Andrew dragging her to the circle. Angelique was amazed at how much fight she put out considering her weakened condition. Kelly struggled valiantly. But, all her struggling ceased when Szandor took her into his arms and kissed her. Szandor released her, and with one hand, guided her to a spot near her sister. He passed his hand across her face, then Andrea and the woman from the cellar made her lie down within the circle.
Preacher released Angelique’s ankles after she had stopped struggling. He stepped back from her and admired her body, then Kelly’s. She was lying spread-eagle within the pentagram, her arms, legs, and head in the points. Szandor waved his hand at Maxamillian who then, and only then, released Angelique’s arms. Szandor stared at Angelique a moment and all thought of resistance left her mind.
She leaned up on her elbows and watched as Andrea, Manni, Preacher, and Karl massaged Kelly. She seemed to relax even more, and seemed to enjoy it. They worked expertly and soon Kelly was writhing from sexual desire. Her head began to toss and turn as she lifted either arm and tried to touch herself, but both were caught and pushed back to the floor. When she began to moan, Karl took her right leg, Andrea her left. Manni took her right arm, Dale her left. When they had her spread-eagle on the floor, Maxamillian came up behind Angelique and laced his arm through hers with his other around her shoulders.
“Don’t even think about trying to help her. Just watch.” he whispered in her ear.
Preacher began massaging and glistening her body with his tongue. Kelly started to scream. Angelique tried to go to her, but was knocked flat by Maxamillian.
When Kelly started arching her back toward Preacher’s assaults on her cunt, everyone began to laugh, then they fell to chanting, again, in that strange language. Angelique tried to reach her, but the huge Brazilian stopped her by grabbing her arms again. Kelly was nearly hysterical now. She began flinging her head back and forth and banging it against the hard floor. She fought against her captors with vigor and nearly freed herself from Andrea and Manni. Kelly was screaming and snarling like an animal.
Slowly Szandor approached, opened his robe, and dropped it to the floor. Angelique was amazed and appalled. Szandor was tattooed from his neck to his knees. His arms were covered with body illustrations to his elbows. Every inch of his torso was covered -- even his massive prick was illustrated. Szandor’s member looked to be a foot long and at lease five inches across. Angelique tried to rub her eyes, and shaking her head, looked again, in terrified curiosity.
Preacher gave one more thrust with his tongue into Kelly. She screamed and arched her back, until she was resting only on her shoulders. Then he moved away as Szandor stepped before the frail sister.
“Kelly! Look at me!” Szandor commanded. Szandor’s voice was deep and rasping. His eyes sparkled, and there was evil in his face. She tried to squirm free and not look at Szandor. Her face was a confusion of frantic terror and horrified sexual desire.
“Kelly! Look at me!” Szandor again commanded. She stopped her struggling and faced directly forward, but her eyes were passively closed. Szandor knelt down between her legs, his prick bobbing like a lance. From where Angelique was held, not more then four feet from him, she could see his pulse ripping the illustrations on his huge cock. Kelly was whimpering.
“Kelly, look at me.” Szandor’s voice was quiet but rasping with passion. Kelly opened her eyes and fixed on Szandor’s face. He lifted his hand and slowly passed it before his face and down his torso, until he was massaging his monstrous member. Moaning, Kelly shook her head slowly in terror, as her eyes followed his hand. They widened in knowing terror as she watched him excite himself more.
The others changed the chant, now it was a slow, rhythmic chant just slower than a heart beat. As their chanting continued, Szandor lowered himself slowly onto Kelly. She was buried beneath him. He began undulating his body to the rhythm of the chant, his prick rubbing Kelly’s stomach. She lay as still as death, only her spastic breathing showed her to be alive.
As Szandor moved down to position his massive rod for entry, Angelique tried, again, to free herself from Maxamillian by kicking him in the head. He was too quick, though, and caught her legs. Karl then took them and held them to the floor, while Maxamillian again took both arms.
“Szandor, don’t!” Angelique shouted, causing the chanters to break their continuity. Szandor suspended his first thrust a second to stare at her, murderously. Then he viciously continued, and buried his throbbing piston deep into Kelly’s tiny body. To her great surprise, Kelly did not scream, although Angelique was sure she was torn by the viciousness of his thrust. Kelly arched to meet the thrust, her mouth wide open, but not a sound came from her.
Angelique screamed, “No,” and with a terrorized burst of strength, freed herself and attacked Szandor. She pulled him off of her sister and covered her body with her own to protect her. The animated hatred in Angelique’s eyes and voice held everyone at bay, as she snarled, “Leave her alone. Anyone else who tries to attack Kelly, I’ll Kill. Do you all understand? I’ll kill you all, if I have to!”
Preacher tried to take Angelique by surprise, but she was working totally on instinct and hate. As he tried to grab her arms from behind, she flipped him over her head and sent him sprawling across the floor. Szandor raised his hand in a motion of restraint, and they all backed away.
Kelly was in deep shock. Her pulse was so slow as to be nonexistent. Angelique picked her up into her arms and started to cry. Then sadness turned to burning hatred. She cried, “If she dies, you’ll all die and by my hand. So ... help ... me ... God!”
“He will have nothing to do with it, Angelique,” Szandor said quietly. “This rite is to Satan and his legions, and you are speaking his love song. But she will not die, nor be harmed, if you sign a pact.”
“What kind of pact?” Angelique had to ask, though her suspicion was plain.
“Agree to willingly do all we ask of you, and I’ll guarantee not only her life, but her return to health.”
“For how long?” I asked.
“Her natural life span.”
“How long must I be your slave?”
“Your natural life span.” Szandor answered.
“No deal.” Angelique replied, as she stormed for the door and nearly kicked it open the first time.
Dale and Andrew gabbed her from behind, and Max took Kelly from her arms. He held her close, keeping her warm, but with his right hand positioned that one sharp jerk would snap her neck.
“Now we have the upper hand, my dear.” Szandor said slyly. “Cooperate or Kelly dies. I’ll make another pact with you. Be our willing slave for seventy-two hours, and you and Kelly can walk out of here Monday morning.”
“What’s the catch, to keep us from going to the police?”
“You will not go to the police.” he replied flatly, his face filled with an evil sneer.
“How can you be so sure?” Angelique asked curiously.
“Do you agree?”
After a long silence, she sighed, wearily, “Let me put Kelly to bed. I want her away from this, so she can sleep. She needs a doctor, too.”
“I am a medical physician, Angelique. I can bring her out of shock so that she simply rests easy.” Szandor answered.
“Alright … I want her upstairs in my room. When I’m satisfied she’s OK, then, and only then, we’ll talk about pacts.”
There was another long silence. Finally Szandor nodded and Maxamillian took Kelly to the elevator. Szandor and Angelique followed.
Kelly was treated for shock, and her torn body was, somewhat, mended. She was dressed in Angelique’s silk pajamas and put to bed. Angelique was allowed, alone, to sit and watch her sister sleep for a while, then Szandor dressed in his robe, came in.
“We’re waiting, Angelique,” his voice soft and quiet, but ominous.
She sat and watched Kelly for a while longer, both her hands in tight fists, then looked up at Szandor. Angelique was tired and groggy, but when she saw that demon’s face, much strength returned to her; the strength of livid hatred.
Szandor smiled a small sardonic smile, and said, “We are waiting, Angelique. You promised.”
“I made no promises, Szandor, I make none now. There is a big difference between ultimatums and choices.”
“So there is, my child, but I am depending on your professional honesty. The bargain was made by your compliance, so you must go through with it.” Szandor’s tone was soft, but there was a definite tone of triumph in it.
Angelique slowly got to her feet and heavily walked past him into the corridor. The whole house was dark except for Szandor’s apartment. They rode down together in the elevator, but this time, Szandor did not touch her. Angelique walked ahead of him into the apartment and up to the door of the ballroom, but she could not go in. She stood with her hands still clenched, just outside the room, and from here she had an excellent view of it.
To the left of the doors, down the wall about six feet, was a life size statue of Baphomet. Across from it, was a throne of oak between two pillars, one willow, and the other ebony. The circle was about seven feet across and had a satanic pentagram within it, complete with a goat’s head. Against the North wall, between the chair and statue, was a small assortment of chairs and two or three small tables containing herbs, incense, oils, candles and such things as may be found in a sorcerer’s study. To the South, was an ebony table about six by three feet on top, set up on three steps; obviously, the altar. It had ritual tools on it and an inverted cross painted on a goat’s skull.
Angelique stood shaking slightly for nearly two full minutes before Szandor came behind her and shoved her into the room. In her hands was a small crucifix, blessed by Cardinal Cook of New York, and a vial of holy water from the church in Jerusalem. When he shoved her in, she fell to the floor, almost dropping the crucifix. Angelique was not sure they would do any good, but she hoped that they would.
When she stood up, she uncorked the water vial with one hand and slowly walked in the vicinity of the altar. Then before any one was the wiser, she spilled the water on the altar and a little on the floor, producing a puddle were she stood, while holding the crucifix to her breast. Strangely, the holy water made the altar glow and smoke like acid had been poured on it. Szandor, furious to the point that his face was livid red, ran to the altar, removed the sword before the water damage reached it, then attempted to grab her. He stopped short. Evidently, standing in the pool of holy water was going to help.
Szandor’s eyes did seem to shoot fire. Everyone else in the room had rushed forward when he had, but stopped in mid stride as he raised the sword above his head as though to cleave Angelique in two.
Andrea moved before anyone else. There was a fireplace bucket full of ash next to the altar. She scooped it up and poured the ash all over the altar. Then with the sleeve of her robe, she swept the soaked ash onto the floor, causing the “burning” of the altar to cease.
“Most can be salvaged, Master.” Andrea said in a mean and quiet voice.
Szandor still held the sword over his head, staring madly at the silver crucifix against Angelique’s copper skin. Slowly he lowered the sword, first till his arms rested, though it still pointed outward. He then turned it down, point on the floor, and rested his hands on the hilt. With an obvious effort at control, Szandor hissed, “You can’t stand there all night. Besides those things cannot protect you, if you do not believe in them or . . .”
“They’ll protect me very well, Szandor, because you believe in them.” Now Angelique’s smile was malicious.
Szandor’s face fell, and his stare became icy. For a few minutes, he just glowered at her, but then his eyes took on fire again.
He barked a command in his foreign language, and all the coveners gathered around her. They began swaying back and forth intoning a chant in some guttural foreign tongue. They kept repeating the phrases over and over. Only one word registered on her mind, ‘Shemafrash’. Angelique did not know what it meant, but she did recall it had some connection as a name for Satan.
The Satanists just swayed as they repeated their chant. It seemed to be generating from inside Angelique’s head, but she could see the tenants, and if she tried, she could distinguish voices. Angelique broke into a freezing cold sweat. Her body trembled, and she began getting very hot, sexually. The rhythm of the chant was infuriating her. It was slow and staccato, but compelling. She began to sway. Her right hand, almost of its own volition, broke away from the crucifix. Still swaying, her hand slowly and heavily traveled down her body, and began playing with her own sex. She was burning with desire, and the chant just kept booming in her head.
The tenants were getting fuzzy in her eyes, and they no longer seemed a group of moving individuals, but rather a large serpent around her rippling its skin. Angelique’s head ached. She had double vision. She was burning all over inside, but her skin felt as though it were ice. She could not stand the pounding in her head any longer, and realized she had lost her fight with them. Holding her ears to shut out the sound, she dropped the crucifix, and fell to the floor.
“Oh, my God. Please, protect Kelly and me.” she prayed very softly.
Kneeling past the pool of holy water, Szandor grabbed Angelique by the arms and flung her across the room so that she slid to a halt in the center of the Satan’s ring. The coveners moved swiftly, surrounding her. Angelique was not really conscious of what was happening, but some part of her mind kept a record.
Karl and Preacher stretched her out into the pentagram, and Manni and Andrea took bowls of warm water and bathed her down. The water was not plain, for it had a sweet and yet murky scent. It warmed her skin and soothed her mind, but soon her whole body was rising to an even higher pitch of sexual desire. The background music had begun again. Actually there were two sources of music, one death metal, the other Wagner.
Szandor had taken his place on the throne at her right hand, as the others milled about preparing the circle for their rite. Szandor laughed evilly under his breath, as he watched Angelique squirm.
“You God damned son of a bitch. Get these baboons of yours off me, and I’ll give you something to laugh about.” Angelique snarled. Her rationality was slipping, and she was distracted by the growing passion in her body. She was beginning to work on pure instinct, at this point.
As she struggled against Karl and Preacher for a short time, she heard a gong, signaling the start of the rite. Angelique’s killer instinct turned to fear. The fear welled up from her gut, like poisoned food. As it broke through her lips, she realized that she was reciting the Lord’s Prayer, in Latin. It was the only Latin she knew.
Szandor was somewhere behind her at the altar, when he heard the words. Angelique heard him scream and so did Andrea. The others seemed paralyzed, staring at the altar, as the words she spoke became louder and louder, reverberating off the marble walls. Somewhere deep in Angelique a kind of courage begun to draw strength; she finished the prayer and pulled away from her captors. Standing in the middle of the damned circle, she begun, in a normal tone, to recite words that she had learned were part of an exorcism. The room seemed filled with smoke, yet the incense could not account for one-third of it. The walls seemed to be shimmering, too. The place looked like it was melting.
Suddenly the doors of the ballroom, which had been locked, burst open and Kelly was standing in the doorway. Or rather she was propped there. She seemed suspended for she was obviously still asleep. Angelique’s speech froze on her lips. As soon as the sound of her words died, Szandor moved. He bolted the doors behind Kelly then grabbed her. When his hands touched Kelly, Angelique lost all strength.
“Oh Jesus.” she whimpered as she fell to her knees.
“He can’t help you now, Angelique. You have been defeated.” Szandor rasped.
They all laughed maliciously.
Angelique managed to find enough strength to stand and stood as tall as she could and faced Szandor.
“You’ve won for now, turkey, but I’m not that hard to defeat. I’ve held my own against one hell of a lot. I think I can stand up to your half of hell, itself.”
Szandor’s eyes flashed but Angelique really didn’t give a goddam any more. She felt totally defeated, but somehow not alone.
“The deal was me for seventy hours and Kelly is out of it from when the pact starts. Now, I’ll stop fighting you but she goes back upstairs, first.” she answered with strength.
Her glare was as intense as Szandor’s. It became a battle of minds but Angelique was working on the oldest instinct woman has. Szandor gave in and ordered Andrew to return Kelly to her bed.
When Andrew returned, Angelique fell to her knees again and buried her face in her hands. She had never been more than marginally “religious”, but she was baptized and she believed she had a personal relationship with Christ. Silently, before any of them could touch her, she prayed for forgiveness for what she was about to do and asked for strength for both Kelly and herself. Then Manni gently touched her shoulder. Angelique raised her head and looked at the tiny woman. Only then did she realize she had cried her prayer. Angelique had never felt so empty and weak. She knew she couldn’t fight them any more.
“Drink this, Angelique, it will give you strength.” Manni spoke softly, with some genuine compassion in her voice and face, and handed Angelique an ornate silver chalice.
“What is it?” Angelique asked wearily, although she really didn’t care any more.
“An herb mixture and wine, it will refresh you and help you find hidden reserves of strength within yourself. Other than this, it is harmless.” Andrea answered the question, sneering slightly.
“The ritual is already half an hour late getting started. Angelique, do you give your word you will no longer defy us?” Szandor asked in a colorless tone.
Angelique made a long, tired, defeated sigh, then answered, “I can not promise not to balk at being told to do something that is against my nature, but I will not openly attack again.”
“Fair enough. If you gave no resistance at all, all the fun would be lost. Strike again the gong!”
Manni led her to the center of the circle again and pressed her to her knees, facing the altar.
Szandor and all the others took their places again and began the ceremony. The bargain was struck. Angelique would be allowed to walk out of this place, with Kelly, at one a.m. Monday morning ... “If I am able.” she thought, bitterly, to herself. “God be with me.” she prayed very softly.
Szandor picked up the bell from the altar and circumnavigated the room ringing it. Andrew followed him, lighting more black candles. By the time they returned, the bell had tolled nine times.
Andrea threw off her robe and climbed on the altar where her body became the worship surface. The chalice against her cunt, the phallus between her breasts, the sword lying against her left arm. Szandor now took the sword and turned to the statue of Baphomet. He spoke in a harsh droning tone.
“In nomine Dei Satanas Luciferi Excelsis ... In the name of Satan, ruler of the earth, king of the world, I command the forces of darkness to bestow their infernal power on me.”
His voice then became lively and somewhat angry as if he were demanding his right to possess what he wanted.
“Open wide the gates of Hell and come forth from the abyss to greet us as your brethren and friends! Grant me the indulgences of which I speak! I have taken thy name as a part of myself! I live as the beasts of the field, rejoicing in the fleshly life! I favor the just and curse the rotten!
“By all the gods of the pits, I command that these things of which I speak will come to pass! Come forth and answer to your names by manifesting my desire. Oh, hear the names ...”
Here he spoke a list of infernal names, each of which the coven repeated, quietly. When they finished, Szandor returned the sword to the altar and took up the chalice. He took a sip, gave half of it to Andrea from his own mouth, then walked, counter-clockwise, around the room giving everyone a sip, when he came to Angelique, last, he spoke softly, but in a commanding tone.
“Take a good, hearty swallow, Angelique. I demand it and you will need it. It is the same elixir as before, but also contains a strong aphrodisiac.”
Angelique tried to defy him by staying quite still, her hands in her lap. He forced the cup to her lips and she had to swallow some or drown. He forced her to take at least an ounce before he removed the cup from her face.
He returned to the altar and drained the cup. Placing it back between Andrea’s legs, he took up the sword again.
He moved down from the steps of the altar and pointed the sword at the four cardinal compass points invoking an infernal Prince of Hell at each one; Satan, Lucifer, Belial and Leviathan. He returned the sword to the altar and read from a book, which Preacher brought to him. It was some kind of invocation in that strange language. Manni handed Angelique a slip of paper. On it was printed an English translation of what he was reading. It was the Second Enochian key, which proclaims the strength of evil and invokes it into the worshippers.
Next he made a proclamation of lust. Here the woman from the cellar, Manni told Angelique her name was Lilith, joined him. She had a soft voice, but now it sounded rasping as she strained to be heard. The words of the invocation were very graphic and flowery. The images of lewd abandon and sexual intent were strong and obvious. Angelique found herself growing cold with fear as it dawned on her that she would be the subject of the confrontation they were reading. At the end of this the pair shouted, “Shemhamforash! Hail Satan!”
Each word was repeated by the congregation and the gong was struck between the phrases. The sound of that gong made her jump.
The elixir was beginning to work on her, along with the sensuous music and the incense. She was beginning to loose deductive reasoning. The other coveners milled about close to her, and everyone was touching and caressing everyone else, most of them were caressing Angelique. Instead of firing her passion, though, it was chilling her with fear.
Now Sacul and Angelique had a good sex life but she’s never been much for exhibitionism. It was very plain to even her foggy mind that an orgy was beginning and it scared the hell out of her. She tried to pray, but her mind was too fogged to form words. Szandor helped Andrea from the altar. The press of bodies was pushing Angelique forward.
Szandor turned to face Angelique, grabbing her hands as she was trying to pull away. When his flesh made contact with hers, she found a small frightened voice.
“What are you going to do to me?”
“Do not fear. You will come to no real or lasting harm, Angelique.” his voice was soft and almost compassionate, but his eyes burned like a wolf’s. His eyes frightened her, exceedingly. He lifted her by the waist and sat her on the altar with her calves hanging over the edge. He spread her legs wide and pushed her gently until her shoulders rested on the horns of the goat skull at the back of the altar.
The music had changed to Near Easter music, a soft, sensuous, tinkling music.
Szandor noticed she was cold and damp and began massaging her body to try to calm and arouse Angelique. In a slow, hypnotic voice he kept reassuring her. “Relax, Angelique. You will not be harmed. This night is for lust and sexual abandon. Give in ... Give in.”
His expertise at massage was beginning to relax her body, but not enough. When he thrust two of his very long fingers into her vagina, which was still dry as summer baked clay, it hurt like someone had tried to put a hot poker in her and she screamed and doubled over. Szandor cradled Angelique’s head and called for Preacher to take her back to the circle. When Preacher had her in his arms, Szandor called Manni and Lilith to the altar. Angelique couldn’t hear what he told them, as Preacher was walking to the circle, but they went to the north of the room and began working in a large wooden bowl at the herbal table.
Preacher worked on Angelique as he had on Kelly with Andrea, Max, Dale and the others holding her down and helping him. She was mildly shocked at how little time it took for passion to cloud the fear. She was listening to the music and trying to get into it, instead of her fear. Then a phrase - hoathahe Saitan - caught her attention. It was Szandor at the altar, chanting. Then he began speaking in English.
“O ye swords of the south, which have eyes to stir up the wrath of sin, making men drunken which are empty, Behold! The promise of Satan and his power, which is called amongst ye a bitter sting! Move and appear! Unveil the mysteries of your creation! For I am the servant of the same, your god, the true worshipper of the highest and ineffable King of Hell!”
His voice was deep with concentration, as though he were putting his whole will into the words. Angelique felt as though a warm blanket were passed slowly over her body and as its edge passed her head, her mind became numb in parts and all too aware in others, the parts of her mind which controlled her sexual desire.
The girls brought the bowl to Angelique’s side and began bathing her in its contents; a spicy, warm water. Her skin began to itch a little but it was due to intense tactile sensitivity. She could feel their breath on her skin or the mild touch of a wisp of incense. She thought she could feel the lusty desires exuding from the bodies around her. Finally, exhausted, her mind let go of its fears and reasoning. Angelique reached the point where she abandoned herself to the bodies near at hand.
Szandor, seeing her reach, caressingly for the bodies near her, shouted, “Hail Pan, King of Lusts!”
The others took up the chant and the gong was sounded again. The reverberations of that gong went through Angelique like a slow, low intensity orgasm. At that signal, everyone dropped their robes.
Szandor was now standing over her, as he had Kelly. What little of Angelique’s mind was still capable of reasoning was amazed that she reached up for him. Those wolf-like eyes burned their gaze into her mind so it was filled with nothing but the image of them. Cold, lustful, deep and frightening, but Angelique was beyond fear. Her body ached to be touched, her genitals screamed to be released from the internal tickling stimulation which played on her like a horde of ants. She could feel energy pouring out of her body from every pore and she thought her hair was electric. Szandor drank in her lascivious writhing there on the floor beneath him.
The others were groping each other and generally having a bawdy time all around, yet they kept one eye on their leader and Angelique.
Szandor opened his robe and dropped it to the floor. To Angelique’s drugged mind it appeared that his body illustrations were moving of their own accord. The part of her mind that was still capable of anything but lust was frightened beyond reasoning, but the lust the drugs, music and chanting had engendered, overshadowed everything.
Szandor dropped very slowly to his knees and stretched his arms out before him. He could touch Angelique’s shoulders and he slowly caressed her body with the appreciation of touching a fine work of art. His touch was electric and the slow, adoring movement brought Angelique to orgasm. She arched and writhed under his touch. She clutched at his thighs, trying to encourage him to enter her. She tossed her head in abandon and lightly scratched at Szandor’s arms, her body totally lost to the passion of the moment.
His first adoration of her body was followed by a second with his tongue, lips and teeth. Angelique had never been driven so hard by physical passion. She was screaming and uttering animal sounds, all sensibility totally gone. This adoration brought her to another shattering orgasm and Szandor did not leave her to recover for long. He fired her body yet again. Her eyes were blood shot from the pressure, only her own pulse pounding in her ears could be heard, and yet, she reached for more of this torture.
As Szandor began preparing her body to receive his massive member, other members of the coven took her hands and held her arms down, stretched out to her sides. It took a few minutes before Angelique was aware of it. It took a few minutes longer for Angelique to realize that Szandor was calling her name.
He was positioned for penetration and his cold wolf’s eyes burned their animalistic gaze into Angelique’s fogged mind.
“Angelique, do you want me?” he asked, his voice rasping with his own unrealized passion.
Angelique forced her eyes to focus on his face, fighting the haze of drugs and passion soaked lethargy, with little success. Szandor then lowered his body against hers, crushing her pelvic bone with the hardness of his erection. The pain brought a little sensibility to her mind.
While down against her flesh, Szandor nibbled on her ear and neck and again attracted her attention. “Angelique, do you want me to take you?” he whispered.
“Please, Szandor ... I can’t take much more of this ...” she croaked back, trying to free her hands to caress him and trying to move her own hips and force his entry.
“Do you want me to take you?”
“Yes.” Angelique moaned and shivered with unrealized passion.
Szandor bellowed like a bull, gathered his knees under him, lifted Angelique by the hips and drove his member into her waiting flesh.
His first thrust only drove his massive phallus half way in, Angelique’s body clutched at it spastically. Szandor growled like an enraged animal and began bucking. Angelique managed to tear her arms loose from her captors and wrapped them around as much of his massive chest as she could hold. The union was very hard, almost vicious and fast. Angelique’s breath was knocked out of her by the strength of Szandor’s thrusts, but she kept rising to another. Then her body was seized with repeated waves of icy fire as she climaxed several times before Szandor let out a bellow that should have knocked plaster from the ceiling and crashed into her shooting his burning fluids deep into her body and all over their legs and the floor. Angelique locked his body to hers with her legs wrapped around his and her arms locked around his chest. Szandor crushed her to him in a killer embrace and buried his teeth in the flesh of her left shoulder. Angelique wasn’t aware, but she did the same to him. Her last conscious awareness was of hands trying to gently pry her face away from Szandor’s flesh and his from hers. When Szandor finally withdrew and rolled off a hard, hot bolt of pain seized her entire form and Angelique rolled into a tight ball screaming until the world was total blackness for her. It was 2:10 am on Friday.
When Angelique revived, the room was darkened and someone was salving her left shoulder. She tried to lift the arm, but it was useless and the effort caused searing, white-hot pain in her neck and shoulder.
“You’ve been fairly badly torn, Angelique, but you will be healed sufficiently by the time you leave.”
It was Lilith’s soft voice. Angelique could now see that she had her robe on again, her hood totally obscured her face from view.
Angelique had never in her life felt so exhausted. Breathing, shallowly, was an effort. But the cramps in her pelvis were worse than anything she had ever felt.
“Lilith, would you, could you, give me something for cramps?” Angelique found enough voice and strength to whisper.
“Szandor, she is cramped. Do you want to examine her before I give her an analgesic?” Lilith called to the chief Satanist.
As the man dragged himself over to her, Angelique saw his left shoulder was heavily bandaged.
“Perhaps some real anatomical damage was done, you’d better check.” Lilith spoke softly to him.
Lilith lit three more candles to give more light for Szandor to examine Angelique. She now saw, through the red haze of her own eyes, that not only was his shoulder bandaged, but his arms, chest and back were a mass of scratches, some of them still oozing.
“Did I do all that damage!” Angelique asked, amazed.
“Yes, you did. You’re a real she-tiger when you want to be, aren’t you?” his voice was gentle and calm. He seemed to find his condition a bit humorous.
Szandor examined Angelique’s body with the gentlest of hands; he watched her face for signs of any real damage.
“Angelique, I’m going to have to give you an internal exam. I think your cramps are only from the intensity of your orgasms, you’re just wasted, but I want to be sure.” his tone was comforting and almost compassionate.
“Szandor’s please be gentle. I’m in enough pain already.” Angelique pleaded, her terror of him showing in her face.
“Do not fear. I can be the gentlest of men, when I choose.” he replied quietly and his eyes were soft and reassuring.
His long fingers made him an ideal candidate for this kind of medicine and he patted her abdomen when he was finished.
“Nothing amiss, a little stretched, but no serious damage. I’m bigger than what you are used to, Angelique. Lilith, get her a cup of Skullcap for the pains.”
Szandor stayed close until Lilith returned with the potion then he left, found a large piece of velvet and covered Angelique with it as a blanket.
“I am going to let you rest for a while before we continue the rituals. No one will disturb you for a while. Get some sleep.” Szandor’s tone was rather business-like, but his eyes were still kindly. It didn’t take long for Angelique to fall, blissfully, asleep. She hadn’t slept since six a.m. Thursday morning.
It was the aroma of food that woke Angelique. She leaned up on her uninjured shoulder and elbow and looked across the temple. The room was still in the semi-darkness of only a few candles burning, but there was a trace of sunlight filtering in through the open transom.
“Ah, Angelique, you are awake. Come, have some breakfast.” Szandor invited cheerily. Everyone was sitting in a circle around a cloth covered with dishes. They were all robed in choir type robes.
Angelique wrapped the velvet around her like a bath towel and gingerly walked forward to join the feast.
“How do you feel, Child?” Andrea asked, concerned. Still, the “child” sounded very condescending since Andrea wasn’t much older than Angelique.
“Stiff from sleeping on the tiles, sore, still cramped in my privates and my shoulder hurts and itches. I still can’t move my arm very well.” Angelique answered her without rancor as she sat, slowly, both ankles to her right.
The morning meal was lavish. There was rich mocha, curried eggs, sausage, oysters, English muffins and much more.
“What time is it?” Angelique asked as she reached for a cup of mocha.
“Are you in a hurry, Sister?” Dale asked sarcastically.
Angelique shot him a quelling look then turned to Szandor.
“I asked because I want to know how long I slept. I usually have a good sense of time, even asleep, but I was too deeply asleep.”
Szandor threw back his robe sleeve and looked at his Rolex.
“You slept about three and a half hours. It is now eight, ten Friday morning.” Szandor answered flatly, ignoring Dale’s jibe.
“Will someone be looking in on Kelly or will she have to fend for herself?”
“She will be all right alone. She will likely sleep the entire time away. The salves and the tea we administered last night will help her heal and keep her asleep. They both have a slight depressant effect. Sleep is what she needs most right now.” Szandor’s tone was comforting.
The rest of what conversation there was concerned itself with the good quality of the food. Angelique only drank the mocha and ate one English muffin. Szandor tried to impress her to eat more, but Angelique tried to explain she always ate light at breakfast and usually lunched around eleven.
“The food will be here all day. Anyone can nibble when the need arises.” Szandor finally capitulated.
His friendliness this morning and the lack of attempt by anyone but Dale to antagonize her, gave Angelique some hope and the hope gave her back her native boldness.
“What’s on the agenda for today? I am assuming it is hopeless for me to think I’d get away without doing much.” she commented as she set her empty cup down.
“We were a bit melodramatic last night.” Szandor began in a conversational tone, “The events of this sabbat will not be as frightening as we made them seem. Do you have any experience with psychic phenomena?”
“Not much, personally, I’ve covered some events for the magazine and I’ve interviewed some psychics. Why do you ask?”
“That will be what today is largely about. Lily was in a fire which almost totally destroyed her appearance. She did, in fact, nearly loose her life. She is very, very ugly from burn scars, but, through applied herbalism and psychic healing, we have been working on removing her scars.”
“Psychic healing? Is that anything like faith healing?”
“In application it is the same thing. The deluded fools who attribute all healing to a god use the same energies we use. We know these energies are generated by the human psyche, not some anthropomorphic non-corporeal energy field.”
Szandor’s tone now was one of deep derision. Though he had not said so in so many words, Angelique was not misled to believe he meant anything but the Christian concept of God. She found herself deeply offended, but in the interest of journalistic detachment, she did not react to it.
“How is this accomplished?”
“We build the field of psychic energy by the stimulation of the mind and body. Sexual desire is one path. Like yours of last evening. When sexual desire can be raised to the maddening pitch of yours the released energy can be harnessed to achieve remarkable results in a directed path. That is part of the reason Kelly looks so bad. She hasn’t the tenacious hold of life that I sense in you, Angelique. She has been drained of life.
“Additionally, Kelly is so horrified by Lilith’s condition that she can not hold a clear image of her healed. The efforts to help Lili are looked upon with horror by your little sister ...”
“Dale’s being a sadistic ass-hole doesn’t help much either.” Angelique interrupted him.
“Believe it or not, it does. Your sister helped us willingly for a while. During that time, Dale was good to her, but after a visit from an old friend, a Catholic priest, Kelly began objecting to our work. We began, then, to force her. Most of the drugs she had been taking were designed to help her rebuild wasted resources, and then she began developing allergic reactions to the medications and needed different ones to counteract it. Dale needed to become more forceful with her to generate the energies we needed.”
Angelique listened to this with greater skepticism the longer he talked.
“What is your doubt, Angelique?” Szandor asked, hurt.
“I’m wondering how much of that story will end up applying to me.”
Szandor smiled, relieved. “I think none. I realize we were wrong to force Kelly, but we could not let her go when she first started to balk. Our efforts are time processed. If we had stopped and tried with a new source, we would have lost what we had accomplished. Lilith’s condition would have reversed.”
“How much have you accomplished?”
In answer, Szandor called Lilith over and asked her to show her arms. Her left arm had patches of scarred and burned tissue that still showed it had been charred, however her right arm showed only a fine tracing of pencil thin scars. Lilith would never be able to get a decent tan, but the less scarred arm would pass in public, uncovered, as long as no one looked too close.
“Both arms were third degree burns over seventy eight percent of the surface. Lilith keeps her face covered because it was burned the worst. She was burned over eighty seven percent of her body, forty eight of that was third degree burns. Her face had twenty three percent third degree burns. Part of the delicacy of her voice is burned vocal cords.”
“Exactly how much improvement have you been able to encourage?”
“About forty seven percent of her burns and scars are completely gone and all of the third degree burn scars are improved or reduced.”
“So what are you doing today?”
“Have you ever heard of a psychic cyclotron?”
“No. I know what a cyclotron is but not a psychic cyclotron.”
“Let us show you.”
Angelique reached to have another cup of the mocha, but Szandor touched her hand lightly. There was still an electric charge in his touch which engendered a fear response in Angelique, the eyes she turned to him were fearful, not just curious, but there was no threat in his gaze.
“Go easy on the caffeine. It interferes in the energy production. If you are still thirsty, have some orange juice.”
Szandor and Lilith left Angelique by the picnic and Angelique watched the others moving around the room, replenishing burned out candles and preparing their worship space as a work place. She noted that a door, well disguised in the mural on the north wall of the room led to a water closet so that even the call of nature would not allow anyone out of this room once the door to the hall was bolted. She would have to avail herself of that room soon.
Angelique had a better opportunity to examine the room. There was an elaborate sprinkler system on the ceiling. It was a little hard to see in the gloom and the ceiling was grimy with smoke from candles and incense. Outside the house it was obvious there was a long bank of high windows in the west wall but they were now covered with a floor to ceiling tapestry depicting scenes from Dante’s Inferno. There was no light filtering under the tapestry, so Angelique assumed the windows themselves were either boarded in or pitched. The room would always be pitch black without the candle light. There was no electricity in this room.
As she sat watching the troop, she realized she was still hungry.
“Szandor, would you recommend any food here over another for my part in what you plan for the day?”
“Yes.” he answered and walked toward her. “If you can stomach them this early in the morning, I would prefer you ate oysters. But fruit will be fine, otherwise.”
The room was ready for their healing attempt by nine thirty. They gave Angelique a robe like their own so she would feel a little more comfortable. Angelique had tried to eat the oysters but they didn’t sit well and she left herself slightly hungry rather than try to put something else on top of them. Szandor seemed to think that was wise.
“Angelique, you will be the focal point in this adventure. I want you to sit here, with both your hands forward toward Lilith. See her whole, healthy and unscarred, surrounded with a green light.”
“It would help if I knew what she was supposed to look like.” Angelique responded.
Szandor handed her a glossy photograph of a Miss New York City finalist. The woman in the photo was a beautiful young woman with chocolate skin and deep, expressive, green eyes. She had a “pert” little nose and long, shiny, straight black hair that looked natural, not artificially straightened.
“Is Lilith a muloto?”
“Yes. That photo was taken the week of the final competition. The fire that almost took her life began in her bed. Lilith does not smoke; there was no logical cause for the fire. Oddly, the sprinkler in her hotel room didn’t work, either. The only reason she lived was that one of the pageant monitors broke down her door and carried her out on the balcony where he threw her into the hotel pool and jumped in after her. She did nearly die of pneumonia because of the dunking. That young man suffered second degree burns of the arms, chest, neck, face and scalp and risked pneumonia, himself, but he saved her life. The hospital staff were amazed that Lilith didn’t die and that the young man did not get pneumonia. He had scorched his lungs as well, for he breathed the superheated air for nearly five minutes.”
“I would think the hospital would consider it a miracle either of them lived.” Angelique replied with genuine awe.
“Yes. The young man has been completely healed, even his scalp. He will not end his life bald, as the hospital told him. And we have had our revenge on those who caused this horror. They are all dead or incurably insane.”
Szandor’s tone as he said the last two sentences put a cold shiver down Angelique’s spine for she had no doubt they had the power to crush anyone.
This healing began with a ritual as before. This time, Angelique was impressed to be the altar piece. She was draped the length of the altar, her robe opened to expose her body, but it was not taken from her. As the chanting and incense filled her head, again, everything seemed unreal to her. More of the incantations and chants were in English, this time. They consisted of demands for blessing on loyal subjects and death to enemies. Until her mind began to be clouded by the drugged incense and wine, Angelique prayed, silently, continuously repeating the Lord’s Prayer and the one hundred twenty first psalm. At the high point of the ritual, the others formed a circle around Lilith. Szandor lifted Angelique from the altar and seated her facing the subject.
Angelique sat in a “lotus” posture, with both her ankles on top of her thighs. She put her hands in the posture Szandor directed and began to concentrate on the image of the beauty queen with the green light around it. The others held hands behind her back, Preacher on one side and Szandor on the other. Angelique could feel the energy flowing behind her; it was like a heat wave. They chanted to keep the rhythm smooth. Slowly, voices dropped out of the chant until there was total silence in the room. At that point, Szandor and Preacher unlinked their hands and grabbed Angelique by the shoulders.
The current she had been feeling going behind her now was passing through her. It was like the time she had put a bobby pin in an electrical outlet. That was an AC outlet and the jolt of electricity knocked her off the chair, this was like DC current. It wouldn’t let her go. The current was burning through her. The touch of Szandor’s hand on her shoulder burned. Angelique could feel the current passing from his hand across her shoulders and neck to Preacher’s, but also down her arms and into her chest and out her fingers toward Lilith. Angelique had been concentrating with her eyes closed to solidify the image of Lilith as beautiful again, but when the energy began pulling out her chest, she opened her eyes to see Lilith’s body surrounded with a scintillating blue-white light. It was coming from her!
The pulling sensation in her chest was getting painful. Angelique couldn’t breathe. She was going to lower her hands and cross her arms but she was frozen in place! Every cell in her body was burning. The touch of Szandor on her wounded left shoulder was like a white hot brand. Angelique felt like her heart was going to be pulled right through her sternum. Suddenly, every sensation was gone. No pain, no burning, no sense of breath, no sense of heart beat, nothing. There was only the second of thinking “My God, I’m dead.” before even consciousness was gone.
First sound returned to Angelique’s consciousness; a light whimpering and the almost silent rustle of velvet robes. Then feeling returned. Angelique could feel cool air blowing over her in whiffs. Internally, she felt as she did when she picked herself off the floor after the bobby pin incident. Her whole body was tingling, but she felt slightly out of synch. After a few minutes she became aware that the whimpering she was hearing was coming from her own throat. Angelique coughed and let hot tears burn down her face and into her ears.
“She’s coming back, Szandor.” Manni’s soft voice whispered from just above Angelique’s head.
Angelique tried to turn in the direction of that voice and the movement was so jerky she banged her head, hard, on the tile floor.
“No, don’t move, Angelique. You are not really in control enough for it. Your personal electromagnetic field is disrupted.” Manni whispered softly, placing her warm hands on either side of Angelique’s face.
“Just lie still and let Manni finish bringing you back to yourself.” Szandor added softly.
Angelique became aware of the sense of a presence very close, not touching, but not more than an inch away. After a while, the tingling and out of synch feeling faded. Very, very slowly, she opened her eyes. It was a steady movement, no jerking. There was nothing much to see, the room was very dark. She could barely discern the shadows of Szandor and Manni.
“I think she’ll be all right, now, Szandor. She’s with herself. What may still be out of synch, she’ll have to correct herself.” Manni spoke softly, not whispering.
Angelique felt the closeness leave and opened her eyes wider, blinking, trying to clear the focus.
Szandor was sitting within inches and Manni was walking away. It took a few minutes but Angelique found her voice.
“How is Lilith?”
“She’s resting at the other end of the temple. She is going to be all right. You have helped remove all but the last traces of scars from her face and arms. She will, again, be able to move freely among common men. You have helped us accomplish far more than we had hoped.”
“What ... what happened to me?” Angelique asked puzzled as she sat up more. Now, she felt very cold and her body began to shiver violently.
Before he answered her question, Szandor threw the velvet blanket around her robed shoulders and pulled her into his lap to further warm her with the heat of his body.
“You were putting out energy of your own as well as channeling ours. As a matter of fact, you were sucking the energy out of us faster than we could push it. Everyone is exhausted.”
“But, I felt ... my arms and my chest ... especially my chest, felt like something was pulling them out ... toward Lilith. You said to keep an image of her in green light. The image in my mind was, but the energy around her was blue-white. I looked. Your hand felt like a branding iron on my shoulder.”
Angelique’s voice gained stability and strength the longer she talked.
“The burning sensation was probably friction. The kinetic energy of our bodies was moving so fast it created heat. Everyone complains of their hands burning.” Szandor explained calmly, still holding her close and rubbing her back.
When Angelique pushed the velvet off her shoulders, Szandor stopped rubbing but did not put her down.
“Szandor, suddenly, everything seemed to stop. I had a second to think I had died, then I lost consciousness. What was that?”
“Have you ever heard of astral projection?”
“Yes. Theory is that a person’s spirit or soul can vacate the body for a time without the body dying.”
“That’s what you did. It broke the energy flow. When we broke the cyclotron, you must have ‘crashed’ back in and that is why you were out of synch. It was a good thing you ‘lept out’ because if you hadn’t we might all have perished.”
Angelique turned to him in alarm. “What do you mean, you might have all perished?”
“You were drawing our life force out so quickly we are all slightly out of synch. You have very nearly killed Bobby.”
“Preacher. He was the starting point of the circle. He was pulling energy directly from the ethers, from the source of life. You were drawing on us all faster than he could draw and you drew almost all of his life energy out of him. He was comatose when you broke the circle. Lilith absorbed so much energy she was able to give him enough to bring him back to consciousness.”
“What happened to all that excess energy? I know you say Lilith absorbed it, but what about her ... psyche, or whatever?”
“She took the overload well. It manifests in her as faster metabolism. Her body still glowed for nearly an hour after you broke the circle. You, Bobby and Lilith, as soon as you all feel up to it, must eat some very concentrated foods; heavy nutrients and lots of calories. You all have lost weight.”
Angelique then raised her arm to look at it and was appalled at the skeletal thing that was attached to her shoulder.
“Do not be alarmed, Angelique. Come, eat the elixir. It will help you back to normal. Extreme weight loss at occasions like this is normal. With the proper quantity of the elixir you will be back to normal weight by tomorrow.” Szandor spoke quickly with a comforting tone.
He set Angelique on her feet and helped her take a step, but she was still too wobbly so he swept her up in his arms and carried her to the center of the room where Preacher was sitting slowly eating a kind of mush. He looked like Angelique felt.
“I’m sorry, Preacher.” Angelique murmured as she saw the hollowed appearance of his eyes.
Preacher smiled and made a dismissing wave of his hand and kept eating.
“Now, never mind the taste of this, finish the bowl.” Szandor commanded softly.
Angelique thought the stuff tasted like unsalted cream of wheat with vitamin pills ground up in it. In other words it was positively disgusting. She had to force herself to swallow the first mouthful, but when it hit her stomach she absolutely craved more. The effort to masticate the soft stuff was tiring, she could not eat quickly. She did finish the bowl and thought about reaching for more, but she was too sleepy.
“Don’t worry about the sleepiness, Angelique. That’s natural. Give the elixir time to work.” Preacher said as he put down his empty bowl the same time she did.
They both curled up right there on the floor and soon were blissfully asleep.
Hustle and bustle in the room woke Angelique. The other girls and some of the men were cleaning the room. Lilith was sitting on the large wooden chair between the pillars talking in low tones with Szandor. Andrea was cleaning the altar and putting new candles where the others had guttered. When Lilith saw that Angelique was sitting up, she signaled Szandor. Preacher was not near by. Szandor called to Maxamillian and he and Dale carried a very large wooden tub to the center of the room, next to Angelique. It was filled with a murky liquid.
“Angelique, stand and let them bathe you.” Szandor commanded.
His tone froze Angelique’s blood but she complied. She stood and opened the robe, dropping it to the floor. Maxamillian put out his hand to steady her so she could step into the tub. His hand was strong, but he did not close it over her. Angelique found herself blushing deeply in embarrassment; again she was the only one in the room who was naked. The liquid was very warm, but the air was cool and she chilled quickly. Dale held her hair away from her body and Maxamillian sponged her down. He was very gentle for his size and strength. Neither of them spoke a word and Dale treated her with deference. When they were finished, Angelique noticed her skin shone with a bronzed sheen. Dale helped her step out of the tub and told her, very softly, not to move. The tub was removed; the elixir had been moved earlier. Dale took her robe away.
A new ritual was begun. Angelique figured it was about three in the afternoon, Friday.
While Szandor was beginning the ritual, a new instrument of torture was introduced to the circle from a store room at the south end of the room. Angelique watched as Max and Karl dragged a piece of machinery into the room and positioned it in the very center of the goat head on the floor.
This piece of machinery was a thing of rods and cushions, the purpose of which Angelique could not begin to fathom.
The rhythmic music and chanting had taken an hour before the congregation turned to Angelique. Her head was pounding with the beat. She was, again, overly excited, sexually, and was sweating from every pore in her body. She had prayed as fervently as she knew how until her mind began skipping. The coven drew her into the dancing, this time, two of the men linking arms with her and the step was a simply cross-over and skip. Her body seemed to understand the movement of its own accord, for her mind was not engaged at all. Szandor’s bellowing voice, invoking all manner of demons and devils, filled what little rationality she may have had left with abject terror.
The dancing was in a small space between the apparatus and the altar. Everyone danced so close together it was impossible not to be rubbing bodies. The linking of arms was more the groping of what ever body happened to be closest and too many of the touches were at “erogenous” areas. Angelique was getting to the point where unreleased passion was making it impossible for her to stay on her feet. The second time she stumbled, Szandor changed from the sing-song language into English.
“Hail Pan! Lord of Lust! Come! Come to take your sacrifice!”
On his final word the ten dancers grabbed Angelique and pulled her to the apparatus. They compelled her to mount the machine. Angelique’s knees were set on thick pads which forced her legs wide apart. Her feet were fitted into stirrups and strapped down, as were her knees. She was forced to lie down on a narrow padded brace that fit from just above her pelvic bone to the middle of her rib cage, then a narrow strip went up her sternum almost to her collar bones. A heavy padded strap was tightened around the small of her back to keep her from getting up. Angelique’s arms were extended to her sides and strapped into restraints just above the elbows. Her breasts, hands and head hung free, and she was totally vulnerable to sexual assault.
The fear generated by this strange contraption helped to sharpen Angelique’s hearing. A low, guttural moaning began at the altar. Angelique hung her head to look behind her, upside down.
Lilith began in a low, breathy tone, foretelling her intense concentration.
“Lord Pan, bearer of unquenchable lust, descend on our congregation. Let your sexual abandon fill all our kind. Let the burning desire of your gluttonous perversion fill the cunts and pricks of our congregation. Your sacrifice is ready. Fill her mind and body with wanton desire. Let her juices flow freely and copiously, let the mad abandon of sexual depravity fill our beings, come Lord Pan - Come! - Come descend on this, your priest - Come, Lord Pan!”
Now the congregation repeated her words, touching and exciting Angelique and each other as they chanted.
“Come, Lord Pan! ... Hail Satan! ... Enter, Lord Pan! ... Hail Satan! ... Come!”
Angelique said a quick prayer for salvation and deliverance from sin and death before the hands of her torturers stole rationality from her and all her being became unreleased passion. Then a bleating, growling noise issued from the altar that grew into a roar, reverberating like a giant gong, shaking and vibrating everything, including Angelique’s odd perch.
Angelique hung her head again to see the altar. Lilith held the sword pointed straight from her shoulders to the center of Szandor’s head where he knelt, slumped, against the altar. His hands gripped the edge and his head was down, away from Angelique’s view. When his head came up and he turned, Angelique screamed and struggled against her bonds in abject terror.
Szandor had become transformed. His facial features now were undeniably goat-like, only a vestige of humanity remained. There were horns growing from his hair-line above his temples. His whole body now was covered with a fine downy brown fur, obscuring his illustrations.
In a rasping, bleating voice he commanded.
“People, take the sacrifice. Fill her and prepare her for your god.”
The coveners then fell to actively engaging Angelique in every form of sexual assault. Preacher slid on his back onto another bench below Angelique. When he was in position, her bench was lowered to his and he was in perfect position to penetrate her inflamed cunt with his own rod. Maxamillian moved in between their legs, up very close to Angelique’s rump. With his strong, soft hands he began running up and down her body from shoulders to ass. After caressing her ass and fingering her cunt for a few minutes, he replaced his hand with his tongue and lavished both her cunt and ass. Dale stood at her head, Karl and Andrew near each hand, Manni and Andrea got down on all fours where their mouths could easily attack Angelique’s suspended breasts and Preacher’s face.
Everyone slowly and gently began touching Angelique and each other with the intention of driving her insane with passion. Dale played with Angelique’s ears and scratched, enticingly at her shoulders and face. He knelt down and kissed and nibbled at her face, throat and ears, enticingly, tenderly and with full attention on her. The girls began licking and suckling at her breasts, their hands playing with each other and Preacher’s face, shoulders and abdomen. The men standing at her hands forced them to close around their already erect members and they scratched and enticed her arms and the asses of the women at their feet.
Lilith’s voice could be heard, softly and full of passion.
“Father Pan, your coveners prepare your sacrifice to your honor. Honor you my being by accepting its treasures as a wantonly, willingly given gift.”
With this she and the transformed Szandor began having sex at the altar and Angelique was filled with man-flesh.
Preacher slid his burning man-flesh into her cunt and as soon as he was planted to the root, Maxamillian slowly, with short, hard thrusts filled her ass! Angelique had never been sodomized. Though Maxamillian was not sexually endowed in keeping with the rest of his massive body, it still hurt and Angelique screamed. She threw her head back as the only body movement available to her and when she did; Dale viciously gripped a handful of hair from either side of her head and forced his own swollen member down her throat.
The women were suckling, almost viciously now. When Maxamillian invaded her body, Angelique’s hands spasmed open but strong fingers forced them closed again and in her fear, terror and pain, Angelique gripped almost too hard and the men began using her grip to relieve their own passion. When Angelique, tears streaming from her tightly shut eyes, closed her lips around Dale he signaled the men at the other end of her body and they began a slow, easy rhythm to relieve their own passion in her tortured body. They pumped in opposing rhythm, when Preacher pulled out, Maxamillian drove in, gently, but with a full thrust and then it reversed. Only the initial entry was pain to the over-sensitized body of the abused woman. But the drugs in the wine of the ritual, the drugs in the incense, which still filled the room, and the constant rhythms of the chants and music played their evil effect and it wasn’t long before the terror turned to flaming passion. Angelique soon was lost, totally, to the carnal sensations being played upon her abused body. She sucked, greedily, at Dale, pulled at the men in her hands and grunted in abandon at the sensations taking place in her lower body. Her body was ceased with repeated orgasms. Every time she crested, she bit down on Dale but it seemed only to enflame him further. Andrew and Karl came all over her arms and pried her fingers free of their exhausted manhood, then they fell to playing with tongues, teeth and hands on the two women who had drawn blood from Angelique’s breasts.
Angelique was senseless in her abandon to the passion that played through her body. Somewhere, deep in her mind, she knew she would remember this and she was still terrified, but the passion was all her universe, now. When Dale reached his climax he forced his member deep into Angelique’s throat, holding her head until he was spent, not a second too soon, as his invasion of her throat had cut off her air supply. He fell exhausted to the floor and Angelique gasped for breath, her heavy breathing causing her entire body to quiver and that was the end for the two men invading her pelvis. Preacher jammed into her hard, first. Two thrusts later, Maxamillian also pushed into her body so hard he rocked the machine. Above his bellow of release could be heard the bleating release of the transformed Szandor.
Angelique had never been so wasted. She had never experienced such exquisite pain or known such heights of passionate abandon. Now, however, there was no joy in it as Maxamillian collapsed and pulled out roughly. Her entire body spasmed with pain and what little breath she had come out in an ear-piercing scream. The only relief came with her desperate in-drawn breath at the near end of blacking out from oxygen depravation. That in-drawn breath was followed by wracking sobs as she was unable to comfort herself by the restrains around her. With no strength left to hold her head erect, Angelique allowed it to drop. Through the tangle of her hair, past Preacher’s head, she could see the shadow of Szandor lift Lilith’s spent body from his massive member and drop her to the floor. Then the thing Szandor had become, stalked toward the machine.
“Oh, God, please, no.” Angelique murmured and resigned herself to more of this hell.
The transformed Szandor approached slowly, giving his people time to move away. He sniffed at Angelique’s body. He ran his searing hot tongue up her spine, causing a shiver of pure fear to ripple through her. He stood between her legs and gently raked his nails down her body from shoulders to thighs, from her throat to her cunt and from her elbows, under her arms, to her ass. He growled deep in his throat and sniffed at her repeatedly. His nails began digging deeper. Where his earlier rakings had caused her passion to begin to rise, the deeper pressure, drawing pain and blood, only terrorized her. His growling indicated he was pleased with her body and her terror.
He grabbed a large handful of hair and forced her head up, stretching Angelique’s neck. He ran his nails up her throat from the bench to her chin. He brushed the hair back from Angelique’s left ear and ravished it with his burning, pointed tongue. Angelique struggled to escape that tongue, she had never liked having her ears licked. The monster pulled her hair forcing her head sideways, painfully. He jammed his massive, hairy legs against her burning, tortured cunt and hissed into her face, his fetid breath almost making her swoon.
“So, there is something you don’t like about me, meat?”
Angelique didn’t know where the strength to speak came from, but there was more than a whisper, though the terror made her voice high pitched and pleading.
“No, sir, not you … I don’t like having my ears wet. I never did.”
Angelique wretched a dry heave from the terror of this monster.
“I do as I please with my sacrifices. Your flesh is mine. Your sanity is mine. Your very soul ... is ... mine.” he hissed in her face and then licked her entire face and poked his tongue into her ear again.
Angelique whimpered in her fear. Her hands clutched and flexed, uselessly. The monster released her head and licked the blood from her body. He snaked his impossibly long tongue around the side of her body and tasted the blood on her breasts. His hands continued to travel up and down her form, not his nails now, but his too warm palms. Then, suddenly, he left her alone.
No one was touching Angelique. No one was near but Angelique felt cold and in great peril. She cleared the tears from her eyes by squeezing them shut. She looked around as best she could, but her hair obstructed too much of the view.
Then a lash fell on her back! Not hard, it was more the slow weight of the leather than a deliberate lashing, but the shock of it made her cry out. The lash fell again and again, always a surprise, the shock more torturous than the actual lashing. Each time it fell from a different angle and in a different place … no rhythm … no suggestion where it would fall next. No pattern; always twice the surprise than the pain. Each stroke made Angelique gulp for air. To her great chagrin the light lashing was firing her exhausted body to passion, again!
“Do you feel pain, captive, or do you feel excitement?” Pan/Szandor bleated.
Angelique could not answer. Her throat felt dry as paper and no sound would come from her.
“You do not answer? Perhaps more lashing will loosen your dry tongue.”
The lash fell again, this time leaving a trace of pain for a second. It faded completely before the lash fell a second time, again with a lingering touch of pain. Then the lash fell in quicker succession; the trace of pain lingering so that the lashes blended together. It was too much to endure and Angelique found enough voice to moan. Her body began to writhe with the building passion and tears flooded, anew, from her eyes.
Suddenly the monster’s nose was at her rump. His tongue darted about her sex, lapping up juices. He rolled her clitoris around on that pointed hot tongue for a few moments, causing low grade shivers to rip through her exhausted body and elicit tortured moans from her loosened throat. He began raking her body again, leaving tracks of greater pain than the lashing. He raked everywhere the benches and straps did not cover, directly over the point of each nipple as well as the soft under side of her arms. Angelique was screaming in pain, revulsion and unreleased passion.
Suddenly, there was nothing but terror and pain. The monster jammed his massive member in her sex so hard it rocked the machine forward an inch. He grabbed, hard at her breasts and rocked back and forth into her flesh, tearing her sex with his vicious attacks, her breasts with his biting nails, and her shoulders and back with his teeth. The universe was only pain to Angelique. Yet, oddly, her body rose to the assault and she crashed repeatedly in sexual release only to be driven higher and higher. When the monster stood erect and grabbed Angelique by the waist his thrusting more animated and deeper there was nothing could keep her tortured mind in the present and before she heard the bellow of the monster’s release the universe became a black, enveloping, nurturing cloud of unconsciousness.
Wakefulness was the ultimate betrayal of the universe. Angelique’s first conscious thought was “God is it over yet?”
Awareness of her body led her to cherish the warm clinging liquid that surrounded her. It felt too silky to be water. It was very warm, a very comforting warmth. Then there was the awareness of hands holding her face, gently, to keep it from falling into the liquid and drowning.
Then memory intruded. Angelique began to moan and tried to pull into a knot to protect herself.
“Szandor, she’s awake.” Manni’s soft voice spoke above her head. The spastic movement of her legs told her moving at all would be a mistake so she left her ankles and hands in the bottom of the tub.
“Sh-h-h-h, Angelique. The monster is gone. It’s over. It’s all over. Now you will be healed. Do not be alarmed. Calm yourself and let the liquid heal you.” Manni intoned softly, crooning, as she continued to gently cradle Angelique’s head.
Angelique never opened her eyes, but calmed in Manni’s care. Her struggles ceased, as much because moving caused pain, but she allowed the tears to flow unchecked from her closed eyes.
“God, please, let me die before this torment ends. Take me home.” she prayed softly.
Then, from a source Angelique could not have guessed in that hour, she felt energized and a new strength began to warm her from within. She had a sense of the certainty of the existence of God. She knew the relationship she had with Him was personal and close. He was watching over her and He was allowing this because there was a purpose to it. He knew she had the strength to endure. Angelique latched onto that certainty and made it armor for her soul.
“God forgive me.” she murmured aloud, feeling she had sinned in complying with their evil endeavors.
“For what do you ask forgiveness, Angelique? Loving your sister enough to put yourself in her place to preserve her?” Szandor asked in a derisive tone, “Or, perhaps, you ask forgiveness because you actually enjoyed some of what has happened here. Are you ashamed of your own lust?” his tone became a conspiratorial whisper but there was still the mocking derision.
Angelique opened her eyes and stared at his aristocratic, ugly face. The transformation had reversed and he was only himself. His repulsive body was covered in the velvet robe but the look of triumph and power was the most evil, ugly thing about him.
That strength asserted itself again and Angelique felt cherished, even in this den of death.
Szandor saw the fire return to her eyes and smiled.
“Good. Your fear leaves you quickly, Angelique. I knew you had an indomitable spirit. Your fire only makes our revels sweeter.” he sneered.
“Szandor, why did you summon Pan and turn on me? I helped you do what you wanted for Lilith. That incident would have killed Kelly!” Angelique spit at him angrily.
“We knew that. That is precisely why I directed Dale to bring you here. We never even considered Kelly on this. Only you were considered. You see, Angelique,” Szandor touched her hair playfully, a smile creeping around his sensuous mouth, “I knew all about you long before you arrived. You were chosen over a year ago to bear the son of Pan.”
“To do what?” Angelique asked, incredulous. She tried to sit up, but Manni restrained her within the clinging liquid. It rippled with the movement and felt like tiny soft hands caressing her body.
“You are, this moment, pregnant with the child of a demon.” Szandor’s silken comment was like the flash of an exceedingly sharp knife.
“That, fool, would be impossible. I’m sterile. I have been since Tishler made me abort my daughter.” she smirked back to him.
“We know your body can not produce eggs any longer. It doesn’t matter. You do not contribute anything to this child except the environment in which to develop.”
“If you keep your word to release me and Kelly Monday morning, what’s to keep me from having an abortion?”
“You will not be pregnant when you leave here, Angelique. You will be delivered of your infernal cargo in about four hours.”
“You’re insane! No one can conceive and deliver a baby in what, eight hours?”
“You do have a good sense of time! You have been unconscious about four hours. No human can conceive and deliver in eight hours, but, the father of this child is not human.” he shrugged and continued to play with her hair, a malicious smile on his face.
There was a strained silence wherein Szandor continued to play with Angelique’s hair and watched her body closely.
“If this was the point of your coercing me, why did you rape me twice before you let that thing at me, why did you have the coven do what they did?” her tone was weary, but there was fire in her eyes.
“You had to be prepared. If I had not taken you, as myself, twice, to open you, you would not have survived his size. If we had not exhausted your body with passion before he began, your mind would not be intact.”
There was another silence.
“Will you answer a question, truthfully, for me?” Angelique asked at length.
“Why not, it will change nothing.” Szandor replied in a flat tone.
“Why were you so sweet to me yesterday morning and just after Lilith’s healing, and so rotten to me now?”
“That should be obvious. Your complete co-operation was preferred.”
“Then your true nature is more this face.” Angelique’s tone was conversational but there was hatred in her eyes.
Szandor only smiled maliciously and rose and walked away.
Another rite was begun. The music, this time, was very weird and low keyed. It was played softly. The chanting was also soft. Manni stayed at Angelique’s head, not holding her now, but there. Angelique tried to ignore what was going on. She thought every hymn she knew and repeated all the prayers she could remember. She wiggled her toes and watched the rainbows the liquid made as it rippled toward and away from her chin. After about an hour, though, she could no longer ignore a sense of pressure building in her lower abdomen. It was beginning to feel like menstrual cramps but it quickly built in intensity.
“Manni, something is happening to me. I feel crampy.” she murmured to the woman sitting beside her.
Manni did not speak. She patted Angelique’s head, reassuringly and went to Szandor. Angelique watched her leave.
Szandor stopped in mid-word to hear her report then sent her back to be with Angelique. The chanting was changed. It became more intense and Andrea, Preacher and Maxamillian also came to the tub.
The iridescent fluid now was pulsing, seemingly of its own accord. It took Angelique a moment to realize it was a pulse beat and it was originating at her belly. The shimmering was a kaleidoscope of reds, greens, blues and opal.
The pressure was growing intense and Angelique could feel her body rearranging itself. It was uncomfortable and she began to squirm. When she tried to turn on her side in the liquid or pull up her legs, the coven members stopped her. Maxamillian held her ankles, gently, but firmly to the floor of the stone tub and at full extension. Andrea on one side and Preacher on the other held her shoulder and hip to the floor preventing any movement.
The tub was not deep, but her body was completely submerged to the chin, however there was only about an inch of the fluid covering her breasts. The pain was just under intolerable but the shock of watching her belly break from the fluid was only surpassed by the hard kick she received!
“Christ, this is insane.” Angelique whimpered in her terror and pain, “this can’t be happening.”
“It is happening, slut. You are cradling a demon child in your whore’s body and soon it will be born. Our Lord will have his own body and there will no longer be any need for him to transmorph in mine!” Szandor answered her from the altar.
The stench of the incense was choking Angelique and her head was pounding from the chanting, and her own exhaustion. Manni kept feeding her sport bottles of the disgusting tasting elixir, a thinner version, but Angelique craved it.
The fetus was restless and turned often. Every movement made Angelique nauseous and the scintillating colors of the bath now made her dizzy. Her breasts were aching with the sudden growth and impending production. Angelique watched them swell out of the fluid as well and her aureoles grew deep brown and twice their natural size. The only good thing in this insane situation was that the movement of the fluid was still soothing.
Angelique complained to Manni that her breasts felt like rocks and were burning. Manni reported this to Szandor who came and signaled Andrea and Preacher to pull Angelique up from the fluid a little. The air in the temple now was clinging and warm.
“We must be sure there is a sufficient supply of colostrums and milk available for our young lord.” Szandor said as he gently wiped the clinging fluid from each breast. Andrea and Preacher had to anchor Angelique’s arms down as she would have swatted at Szandor. When he had the fluid removed, he encircled each nipple with his hand and “milked” her, allowing the thick colostrums to flow over his hands.
Angelique tried to squirm out of his reach, but, of course, her captors prevented that.
“Leave me alone, you filthy beast.” she hissed at the high priest.
“Quiet yourself, Angelique, or you may find yourself in worse trouble than you were six hours ago. I could call up Leviathan, the serpent, and have you sacrificed to him; a considerably worse fate than Pan. He is simply the embodiment of lust; the serpent is a real evil from whose clutches your sanity will never escape.” Szandor hissed back, the sheer evil in his eyes quelling all of Angelique’s bravado.
Just then, a long slow shudder worked its way through Angelique’s body. As Szandor still had his hands on her breasts he felt it.
“Dunk her and dress her. It is time.” he ordered and walked back to the altar.
Andrea and Preacher sunk Angelique’s whole body back into the trough. They even pushed her head under. Angelique wasn’t prepared for it and got the fluid in her mouth. She hadn’t swallowed any of it, but it left a strongly metallic taste in her mouth.
They hauled her out and dressed her, without drying her off, in an elaborate black velvet robe. The pile was inside, facing the skin. It fit close to the throat on a small standing collar. The sleeves were form fitted as well, all the way to the wrists. The body of the robe was loose but straight, the swollen belly making the material bulge. It was fitted to each leg and snapped close to the ankles, but there was no crotch. The front of the robe was made of three panels of velvet, not sewn except at the hips and shoulders. They could be pushed aside easily to allow for nursing. As soon as all the closures were fastened, Angelique was carried to the altar and sat upon it.
When she was perched, another slow shudder ceased her body.
The chanting began again. Angelique just sat watching the coven and rubbing her belly and sides. The baby was getting very quiet. Then she felt the undeniable pull of labor.
“Szandor, labor is starting.” she said quietly. Szandor turned to her and felt her body, himself; his look intense.
“Tell me truthfully, how long and how hard will this labor be?” Angelique’s whisper was tremulous with fear.
“It should not take more than forty minutes and probably will be very severe. We are prepared to restrain you, if necessary.” he replied coldly.
Angelique took the initiative to move the altar trappings so she could lie on the altar. She lay on her left side with her knees drawn up slightly. She continued to rub her belly, which was visibly trembling, now. The contractions were already only a minute apart, but they were fast and short … and excruciating. Angelique tried not to cry out, but her face was washed with tears. She asked for more of the elixir, her throat was so dry and she felt she and the child needed it for this dangerous time.
When her water broke, Manni was there with a silver bowl to catch most of it. The time between the start of the contractions remained at one minute from the very beginning, but their duration increased. Szandor washed his hand in an antiseptic and examined her frequently.
“His head is almost ready to begin descent of the vaginal canal.” he whispered to Preacher who signaled the coven to hush their chanting.
“Szandor, give me something to brace against.” Angelique hissed as she began to feel the urge to push.
Maxamillian took her hands and stood above her head giving her a brace above and Preacher crossed his arms below her feet. No one tried to get her to lie on her back.
As Angelique’s groans grew in intensity, her pushes grew longer and the chanting grew louder. Then the baby’s head crested at the end of the birth canal and the room fell to total silence except for Angelique’s groaning screech as the child’s head tore free of her body. The greater pain came as the child’s hips passed through then there was a complete relaxing of her body and the first breath the child took was breathed on him by Szandor. It was one, twenty three, a.m., Saturday.
Angelique’s next conscious thought was the child laid next to her. He was wrapped in a new clean piece of velvet.
Angelique unwrapped him and examined the child. It looked perfectly human. Ten long little toes and fingers on his normal looking hands and feet. She rewrapped him and began to rearrange the folds of the robe for him to eat, when the child opened his eyes and Angelique recoiled in disgust. The child had the strange elliptical irises of a goat in wolf-gray eyes.
“Your babe needs suckling, woman.” Szandor said in a threatening tone.
Angelique put the child to her breast. He found the nipple and got a good suck going immediately. A low key orgasm shivered through her body as the child began and the afterbirth was delivered, intact.
Angelique was exhausted. Cuddling the child close to her, but lying on the altar, she dozed. The pain of an empty breast being sucked on woke her and she lifted the child and simply turned over with him, put him to the other breast and fell back asleep.
When Angelique woke, the child’s lips still calmly around her nipple, she thought he looked bigger already. She turned questioning eyes to Szandor who was watching with intense interest.
“Yes, he is bigger already. He may not need your milk by the time you are to leave here Monday morning. Just as he developed in a matter of hours, he will grow to maturity in a matter of days then he will grow no older for decades. He will live nearly forever.” Szandor spoke with a touch of awe as he delicately traced the thick black hair with one finger.
When Angelique gently pried her nipple from his slack lips he did not protest, but she would have left him on the altar to sit up and he fussed as soon as her warmth left him. Szandor helped her sit up while holding the child and had Maxamillian remove them both to the throne where cushions were arranged to help her hold the child and be comfortable for Angelique to sleep. Manni brought her another bottle of the elixir, which Angelique downed greedily and asked for another.
They slept only an hour when her engorged breasts and the child’s fussing told Angelique it was time to feed him again. He was born weighing about seven pounds. In an hour he weighted ten. His gray eyes still disconcerted her, but he kept them closed most of the time that he fed. By midmorning, Saturday, he weighed thirty pounds and looked about fifteen months old. He was thin and rangy and by ten am he was drinking the elixir as well as Angelique’s milk. She couldn’t get enough of the stuff. Nearly every waking minute that she wasn’t fussing with the child, she was drinking.
The demon child made noises while he nursed and by the time he was as big as a six month old child he was exploring her body with his hands. He constantly sought her sex while he nursed and when Szandor saw this, he had them removed to an inflated mattress where Angelique could be laid flat to allow the little demon greater access to her. By the time it appeared the size of a ten month old child, Angelique couldn’t stand to touch it. The child’s awareness of this reaction manifested itself in biting and pinching. In four hours he had eleven teeth and he knew how to use them.
“You would do yourself the favor of responding favorably to him, Angelique.” Szandor cautioned darkly.
“I can’t. I loathe this ... thing.”
“Mommy hate Lukey.” the child spoke for the first time when it appeared eleven months old.
“It doesn’t matter, young master.” Szandor answered as if it were perfectly normal that the child’s first words were to name itself.
“No, but she good for play; have good milk, too.”
Now he no longer lay close to Angelique. She slept between his feedings and he began walking and exercising. His naked prancing delighted the Satanists, but Angelique couldn’t bear to look at him.
At noon, Lilith came with a wooden basin and helped Angelique out of the robe. She bathed her in scented water that left her skin feeling velvety and then she sat and tenderly brushed Angelique’s hair. It was the first time Angelique had an opportunity to clearly see the work that had been accomplished.
Lilith wore the hood of her robe down. Her hair was shoulder length and dull. It was not damaged looking hair, but it was thin, evidence that it grew from a damaged scalp. Her face still showed scars from severe burns, but they could be covered with makeup. Her skin had been a beautiful shade of chocolate. Now it would be cafe au lait.
“Lilith, if Szandor holds to his word and releases me Monday, will the healing done so far be sufficient that he and the coven can finish it without me or Kelly?”
“Yes, Angelique. Your work was much more than we expected. I may never be Miss New York City, but I won’t have trouble impressing the average man.” she smiled.
It was a pretty smile, but she still treated her face as though it were delicate. Obviously she was still self-conscious. The psychological scar would take a long time to heal.
“How did you get into this mess, anyway?” Angelique felt bold enough to ask.
“I was born into it. Szandor is my father.”
When she said that, Angelique shuddered, remembering the way she abandoned herself to the transformed Szandor.
Lilith gave Angelique a new robe, again like the minister’s robes the others wore. She fanned Angelique’s hair out across the back, the fiery cascade evident against the black. When she was ready, she led her back to the altar.
Szandor scrutinized Angelique’s body and face. He moved very close, grasped her face, not too harshly, between his palms and searched her eyes and soul, deeply. His initial contact with her face gave Angelique a cold chill, but then, the strength she felt earlier bubbled up in her, like water from a new spring. Her mind was filled with the thoughts that she did not face some demonic thing but a man. A truly evil and lust filled man, but only a man; despicable, loathsome, hateful, full of tricks, but only a man. In a perverse way, Angelique actually admired him. She realized the dedication it must have taken to train for his position. The thought occurred to her that he must have had to endure as much humiliation as she had to attain the power he now thought he commanded.
While these thoughts filled her mind, Angelique stood a little taller and returned Szandor’s icy stare with her own calm fire.
“Good. I do not see any lasting damage in your eyes. You have helped us freely and beyond our expectations. For that, you deserve a reward. What would you most want of me?”
“For you to murder everyone in this room then slit your own throat.” Angelique replied instantly and calmly.
Szandor dropped his hands from her face and stared back, his own expression stony.
Angelique was undaunted by the look, “Lacking the assurance of that, I’ll settle for a complete healing of Kelly, body, mind and soul. You have no authority over Kelly or me, which we have not granted ...”
Szandor interrupted her, “And so it is with all things. I will have her brought down so that you may, personally, witness or be a part of that healing.”
He waved his hand to Max, who left immediately.
“So sure that is what I would ask?”
“You mentioned earlier that you are a physician, are you a psychiatrist, too?”
“Yes. I received my medical degree from Harvard Medical School and eight years later my degree in psychiatry from SUNY here in New York.”
“Just how old are you? I wouldn’t ask, but I couldn’t possibly venture a guess.”
Szandor smirked and chuckled. “I’m seventy-three.”
Angelique was stunned. He had all the mannerisms of someone from the last century, but he had the firmness and agility of someone in their thirties.
“My lifestyle contributes a great deal to my youthful appearance, Angelique. I slow the aging process with a macrobiotic diet, special herbs and this.” here he waved his hand at the room, indicating that the rituals had an effect to retain his youth.
“You really believe Satan will have a place of honor for you when you die?” Angelique was incredulous.
“No. I expect I will cease to exist entirely when I die, that is why I control my world now.” he replied with a cold determination in his eyes.
“You’re drunk on your own perceived power.” Angelique breathed in disgust.
“Yes. Contrary to the popular belief, being intoxicated with power is not, in itself, a bad thing. The true evil comes with what one does with that power. There are many men in the world more evil than I, Angelique, men who do great harm in the name of personal profits. I enforce my will on very, very few unwilling souls. Your sister was initiated into this coven. She joined us of her own free will and in full knowledge of what I was capable of doing. She has willingly served as the altar of this coven several times. As a matter of fact, in the last twenty years, you are the first person coerced into joining us.”
“If that is the case, then why?” Angelique was having trouble holding her anger. “Why didn’t you just ask me to help? I’m sure you could have found some way to talk me into helping Lilith.”
“Yes, I’m sure if I simply stated the facts; I could have persuaded you to help with Lilith’s healing. If I explained some of the benefits Kelly received, at first, I may have persuaded you to become a member of this little society. However, dear Angelique, I’ve done an extensive psychological profile on you. You, yourself, as a matter of fact, answered a long battery of questions I designed specifically to discover the best way to approach you.”
“When?” Angelique was outraged.
Szandor smirked maliciously. “Do you remember your office doing personal profiles?”
“Yeah. About three months ago, everyone in the company had to take a bunch of tests. It was supposed to increase production by putting people in the perfect position if they were mismatched. It took a supervisor I couldn’t stand out of my hair. The survey proved he was as incompetent as I’d always said he was.”
“That survey was genuine, for what it accomplished, but I created it then persuaded your boss to use it, just to get your own responses to the questions for my own purposes.”
“You are a nut.”
“I am a master Satanic Priest. I am far more powerful than you imagine. I am pleased that you have consistently found the strength and resolve within you to resist being warped by this experience. But, I warn you now, do not ever doubt that I can totally destroy you or Kelly, or that I will, if you ever pose a threat to me or what I do.”
Through most of this conversation, Szandor’s gaze was intense, but not the wolf-eye that had frightened Angelique so, yesterday. With the last sentence, that feral look came back into his eyes and Angelique’s blood ran cold.
Further discussion was curtailed by Luke’s appearance, tugging on Szandor’s arm.
“Want milk, Szandor.” the child intoned in perfectly formed, five-year-old English.
This thing frightened Angelique more than anything that had transpired in the room since she walked in Thursday night.
“You are too big to suckle, Young Master. Besides, your host’s milk has likely dried up.”
To prove his point, without asking leave, Szandor opened Angelique’s robes and manipulated both breasts, harshly and indeed, both were dry. Angelique had to lean on the altar for support, his pressure was so intense. She glared at him, but said nothing, her fear of the demon child, stilling her tongue.
“Not want Mommy milk. Want ... goat milk. Bones hurt, Szandor. Need milk.” the child explained but the feral gleam in his eye as he explained to the adult was nothing short of a threatening demand.
It struck Angelique what the child meant.
“He needs more calcium than is in the elixir. His bones are growing too fast.” she said gently.
Luke smiled at Angelique. It was a chilling expression and she shuddered.
“Ah! Young Master, I have erred. Instantly will you receive the milk and the elixir will be enhanced.” Szandor answered him and signaled Lilith to get the milk from his refrigerator.
“Mommy needs built up elixir, too, she still too skinny.” Luke commanded.
“As you command, Young Master.”
Lilith returned with the quart of goat milk and Max was right behind her with a still groggy Kelly. Szandor ordered her put on the inflated mattress which was against the wall below the statue.
Szandor supervised the administration of the first large glass of milk to the naked child then took Angelique’s arm and led her to her sister.
He examined Kelly and had Manni bring a bowl of the hot mush elixir.
“Revive her and feed her, Angelique.” he handed the bowl to her. “All of it.” he commanded.
It took an hour to get Kelly to take all of her mush. In the meantime Manni had brought Angelique another quart bottle of the more liquid form of the stuff. When Kelly had finished her food, she lay back with her eyes closed.
“Is it almost over, Ange?” she whispered.
“Almost, Twin … it’s about two thirty, Saturday afternoon. He said he’d let us go by six a.m. Monday. Only thirty hours left.”
“Let us go?” Kelly came more awake and looked around the room. When her eyes fell on Luke being dressed in jeans and a tee shirt on the altar, her face turned to Angelique in abject terror.
“You bore the demon child for them?” she whispered.
“Not voluntarily, Kelly. I was raped by Szandor transformed ...”
Kelly drew a breath in abject terror and threw the cover over her head, drew herself into the tightest knot she could and began babbling prayers. The babble became a high pitched keening. When Angelique tried to comfort her, Kelly wiggled away as though her twin’s touch burned her.
Angelique got angry. She stalked to Szandor, who was dressing Luke, and pulled him around to face her. Szandor did not expect it and did not let go of the shirt quick enough. He caused Luke to fall from the altar. Andrea was helping and she dove for the floor to catch Luke so he would not get hurt.
“Why is Kelly so terrified now that thing is born? Not of him, but that I carried him? Tell me, now!” Angelique hissed, staring with all her anger and hatred right into Szandor’s face.
Before he opened his mouth, Szandor closed his fist and swung a round-house punch across Angelique’s jaw, sending her sprawling across the floor with two chipped teeth and a massive hole in her tongue where she bit it, not expecting the blow.
Szandor attended to righting Luke and finished pulling his tee shirt on. Then he lifted the boy to the floor and the two of them walked to where Angelique lay sprawled, on her face, in a widening pool of blood.
By the time they had reached her, Angelique was beginning to sit up and shook her head to try to clear it, splattering Luke with blood. When she was aware her mouth had blood in it, she clamped her jaw shut to staunch the flow, which rocked the chipped teeth and sent razors of pain through her neck and spine. There wasn’t enough pressure to stop the blood of the lacerated tongue and Angelique had to let some of the blood squirt out of her lips and swallow a lot of it, or drown. Luke reached for Angelique’s face and was splattered again with the spray of blood.
Szandor’s face was livid and he had balled his fist and would have struck Angelique again but Luke put up his own hand, calmly, and prevented him. He knelt in the pool of blood and touched Angelique’s face, tenderly.
“Open your mouth, Angel. I can make it better.” he said sweetly.
Angelique was suspicious, but there was something in his eyes, a sudden kindness and compassion. She swallowed most of the blood and complied.
Luke reached into Angelique’s mouth with two fingers of his left hand. He found the massive tear and the look in his eyes disappeared to be replaced with an almost metallic gleam. Angelique felt a low grade charge of electricity and warmth and when he withdrew his fingers, the wound was healed and even her teeth no longer ached. When Luke withdrew his bloody fingers from her mouth, he placed them in his own and sucked the blood from them. That deeply feral look returned. Then it disappeared and his eyes actually looked normal. She noticed, for the first time, the lenses were round as a human’s should be.
“I know you are afraid of me, Angel, but when I needed you, you were a good Mommy. If you want, I can fix it so that you can be a mommy someday.”
His expression was almost angelic and his eyes were soft and innocent. The memory of the miraculous healing of her tongue was fresh in Angelique’s mind and she was sorely tempted, but then Kelly threw off the blanket and screeched, hysterically.
“For the love of God, Angelique, say no. Your life is already in mortal danger; do not risk your immortal soul. Don’t take anything form him, Ange, please!”
Kelly was very weak and the effort left her depleted. Her husband picked her up and recovered her with the blanket. He spoke to her softly. Angelique was stunned at his tenderness.
“You are right, Luke, I am afraid of you. But thanks for curing my tongue. If you hadn’t, I probably would have bled to death.” she said softly, looking at the boy’s face, but not in his eyes.
“Can’t have that … corpses make for nosy cops snooping around.” Luke said, smiling evilly.
“Anyway, Luke, I appreciate your offer but I really don’t mind being sterile. I don’t really like children … any children.”
“Is that really it or you ’fraid I can hold you if I heal you?”
“That is my sister’s fear, not mine. I can’t explain your existence, but I’m not as afraid of you as perhaps I should be. If you could bind me, you already have enough to do that. After all, you’ve drunk about an ounce of my blood besides all my milk, and, Szandor, I haven’t forgotten the placenta which is partly mine as well as his. No. No, doing something for me doesn’t make me think you could bind me any further. If I ever want a child, I can adopt one.”
“O.K. ... Szandor and the coven will heal your sister now. I have to grow some more.” the demon child rose and walked away from Angelique.
“You are fortunate, whore, that he feels disposed toward you.” Szandor hissed at Angelique.
She flashed him an innocent, winning smile. His hand clenched but he held his temper.
“Go to Lilith and get cleaned up, again. Be assured we will keep the blood from the floor.”
“Sleep in it for all I care, Szandor.” Angelique said as she stood in one easy, fluid motion and turned away. “You probably do, anyway.” she murmured, but Szandor heard her and grabbed her arm to spin her around, nearly upsetting her again.
“Do not presume on the young lord’s protection, bitch. You still have to deal with me and twelve hours is a long time to be tortured.” Szandor hissed, the wolf-gleam in his eyes cooling Angelique’s bravado, considerably. “You would do well, Angelique, to try to endear yourself to me. I could just as easily cause psychic fire to surround your sister as healing, regardless of your efforts. Now get cleaned up. I don’t want her to see you bloody. She is upset enough. Her state of mind is important to healing.”
“Szandor would seeing Lilith so greatly healed reassure Kelly or upset her more?” Angelique found the voice to ask, after taking several steps from the huge Satanist.
“Likely reassure her. It was on Lilith’s behalf that Kelly allowed herself to become so depleted. I will have Lilith attend her ... Manni help Angelique change her robe.” he called over to the petite Hispanic who bobbed her head and went to the water closet built into the wall.
“Did Szandor tell you what to expect next?” the little brunette asked when Angelique reached her.
“Probably another cyclotron for Kelly’s healing ... my reward for Lilith’s healing.”
“Did the prince say if he were participating?”
“He said he was not. He had to grow more first.”
The two were then silent as Manni mixed the herbs and fluids that went into the “bath” water.
Angelique bathed in plain, clear water to rid herself of the blood that was caking on her body. Manni sponged her again with the special water and gave her a new robe like the others. When she was ready she padded back to Kelly who was being bathed by a naked Lilith.
“How you doin’, Twin?” she asked Kelly softly as she brushed her bangs away from her face.
“I’m O.K. No pain. I’m very weak, though.” Kelly’s vice was ghostly thin. Her eyes were sunken and dull.
“Lilith is beautiful again, Ange. Thanks. Szandor thinks I was afraid of her, but it wasn’t that. Looking at her before hurt me so much. I wanted for her to be better. I tried to heal her, Ange, but I don’t have your spiritual strength.”
“Or my psyonic power. You never did, Sis.” Angelique told her softly, stroking her head tenderly. She looked up to Lilith who had just finished Kelly’s bath. Lilith motioned her away with her head.
“Sis, I’m going to help Lilith empty the basin, be right back.” she spoke reassuringly to Kelly and rose to follow the lithe Satanist.
Lilith waited until they were at the water closet before she spoke.
“Kelly will not survive the blast of energy I absorbed. If you can, Angelique, you’re going to have to tone down your projection. Kelly is very weak. She has fought off most of her allergies, now. She’s nearly clean of medication, but that cleansing process has left her very weak. She has almost no aura.”
“What should I do? I’ve never done this before. I don’t know how to control it. What happened when we worked on you ... just happened. I didn’t control it.”
Lilith was in deep thought for a moment.
“When you picture Kelly as healthy, see her in a nimbus of soft pale green light. Concentrate on the color. Keep it grass green. If your image of Kelly doesn’t stay clear, that’s fine. Concentrate on the color. The chants will be a little different, as well. Since she is a servant, and not a court member, lesser powers will be invoked. These two things will be enough to tone down the energy. Come, we are ready and you must be the altar, again.”
The opening rituals were done with Kelly near the wall on the air mattress. When it was time for the cyclotron to be established, she was brought into the center of the circle by Andrew and Dale and laid on a bamboo matt.
Szandor, again, lifted Angelique off the altar and set her on the floor in the beginning of the circle. Lilith was in the circle this time. It was she who touched Angelique’s shoulder and Dale who was on the other end with Preacher beside him. Luke was sitting on the throne, passively watching.
Angelique closed her eyes and set her hands as she had for Lilith. She felt the energy going by her; felt that it was more delicate, this time. When Lilith touched Angelique’s right shoulder and Dale her left, the flow of energy was more like cold water than electricity. But there was a thin thread of something that rasped like diamond-string. Diamond-string is a fine cutting filament used in diamond saws for laser cutters. It’s a polishing filament. Angelique had held it once. It is a very fine grit, but it will cut your finger right off if you run any pressure over it. Instinctively, Angelique knew not to allow this thread of the energy to flow past her to Kelly. She knew she had to block it.
Angelique found the image of Kelly, fully restored to health, floating in a pool of light green water, very easy to maintain. She saw Kelly refreshed and whole. Less shrunken and her hair regaining its luster. More important to Angelique, she somehow managed to create an image of Kelly’s spirit and healed that. She saw Kelly’s spirit revive and begin to sing again. The energy flowed easily into Angelique and she let it flow out, just as easily. Angelique was convinced that not only was Kelly healed from this ordeal, but that she would become a stronger person, spiritually.
The thread of irritating energy was building up inside of Angelique until she lost her ability to concentrate. She stopped the flow to Kelly before Lilith was aware and since no one had trained her to ground the negative flow, it built up in Angelique until she felt like she had swallowed ground glass. She fell over, screaming in pain.
The other’s moved away, but Lilith tried to get Angelique to focus on her.
“You should not be in pain, what troubles you, Angelique?” she whispered.
“Someone projected something bad. I didn’t let it get Kelly. But, ... I must have kept it all ... now it’s cutting me up inside.” Angelique managed to gasp.
Lilith looked to Luke.
“My Lord, do you want to take the energy of Leviathan from her?”
The boy, who now appeared around ten, climbed down from the throne and stood over Angelique.
“Stand up, Angelique.” he commanded. His voice exactly like Szandor’s in command.
It was apparent that the act of standing was likely the hardest thing Angelique ever did. She refused to let the pain cause her to cry out, but she was covered with sweat and her complexion was the pasty gray of impending shock when she stood almost fully erect.
Luke watched with a passive expression on his face, but feral light in his eyes. When Angelique struggled to a nearly erect posture he let the light in his eyes touch his lips and he smiled, tightly. Swiftly he threw off his shirt, kicked off his sweat pants and ripped Angelique’s robe open. He pressed his naked body tightly against hers. His lips now reached to the juncture of her collarbones and he seemed to be sucking in the negative energy by virtue of the contact of his burning flesh to her cold body. As the pain left her arms, Angelique laced them, gently, around the boy.
It took only a few minutes for Luke to gently push Angelique away again. She looked down into his half mature face and the total evil and feral hatred she saw there sapped all the strength from her legs and she collapsed to his feet in abject terror. But it was not on her that demonic rage was aimed. It was Szandor he locked in his gaze.
The boy demon slowly walked in his naked glory to where the high priest of this coven stood. Luke’s steps were very deliberate. Each seemed individually calculated. Szandor was standing before his cursed altar and as Luke slowly approached him, he tried to remain in a calm stance, but Angelique could see the terror building in his eyes, even from the center of their satanic circle, fifteen feet away.
Luke was a little over five feet tall already. He would be a powerfully built man; shaped a little like a bull dog with massive shoulders and narrow hips, but the muscle definition was beginning to show already. He stopped within arm’s reach of Szandor, who kept his eyes on Luke’s face, but his hands trembled, hanging limply at his sides.
In a voice harsh with controlled anger, Luke asked, “Tell me, Szandor, who originated the Leviathan skein?”
“I did.” the high priest answered clearly.
“Because of my anger at Miss Carlyle.”
“Did you intend to harm her sister?”
“No. I knew she would block the energy from Kelly. My only intention was to punish her for harming you and thwarting my authority.”
“Well said, Szandor, but ... you forget something. I rule this coven, now, not you. You are my servant. You have no authority except what I give you.” Luke spoke very quietly, dangerously.
“I will not make that mistake again, Lord.” Szandor replied, still keeping his voice calm, though it was clear he was sweating.
“That’s right, you won’t.” Luke replied still in that calm, dangerous tone. Then he raised his right hand and touched Szandor in the middle of his chest. A field of electricity emitted from Luke and wound around Szandor, making him scream in pain. Shortly the electricity seemed to die, but Szandor was launched against the east wall, twenty feet from where he had stood. He crashed to the floor in a heap. Two of the men moved to assist Szandor, but Luke raised his hand and looked at them.
“All of you be aware that I rule in this room. I will not interfere in your secular lives, but I rule here. I have total control of all of your lives ... all of your lives, Miss Carlisle.” the last he said, slightly less emphatically, as he turned to face Angelique, no shred of compassion in his expression.
He turned on his heel and walked back to where he had discarded his clothes. He ordered Andrea to get him a larger shirt and pulled the pants on.
Angelique lay where she had fallen, trembling so violently, her knees were rocking the floor. Luke regarded her and the feral madness was leaving his face, but it was still too hard a face for any ten year old.
“Be at peace, Angelique,” he spoke softly, for her ears only, “I have total control of your life while you are in this room. Once you pass out those doors, I can only affect you as you allow, through conscious consent or subconscious fear. I am deposed toward mercy on your behalf. After all, I would not be here if not for you. Go to your sister ... and cover yourself.”
As Luke took the shirt from Andrea, Angelique pulled her robe closed again. Shakily she rose to her feet and walked to the air mattress to be with Kelly, who was sitting up, cross-legged and eating the elixir mush.
“Kelly, why were you so upset when I told you I was raped by ...”
“Pan. Do not think it was some parlor trick. I’ve been part of this group more than a year ...”
“More?” Angelique exclaimed and grabbed her twin’s arm.
“Where do you think I met Dale? I’ve known Bobby and Szandor nearly three years, Angelique.” Kelly replied with fire in her eyes, daring her twin to rebuke her.
When Angelique remained silent, Kelly continued, “As I was saying, that was no parlor trick. The demon Pan totally possessed Szandor and a genetic scan would prove it. You were raped by one of the Princes of Hell.”
“But why did that upset you more than Luke does?”
Kelly looked, first, where the coven members were, then she lowered her voice to answer.
“As a human that demon child has less power than it did in the Netherworld. But your life will always be in mortal danger. He will always be able to bind you to him. Even after you die, he will have control of your soul.”
“Who told you that kind of bull, Kelly?” Angelique hissed.
“Father Palishesky. He’s an expert on Demonology.”
“He’s an expert on bullshit, Kelly. He’s been spouting that soul-saving crap all of our lives.”
“It’s not bull, Angelique. I checked at the library and in the Saint John’s department of theology.”
“Kelly, you have to believe you have an immortal soul in order to be affected by this stuff. I don’t.”
Kelly stared at her twin, stunned. “But you’re a Christian!”
“I believe in God, the Holy Spirit and that Jesus was God and human, I don’t believe I have an immortal soul. When people die, the only immortality they have is the memory they leave behind.”
Kelly eyed her sister in cold silence for a long time.
“Then the memory you will leave behind, Angelique Carlyle, is to have brought Hell to earth in the being of that boy over there. Don’t believe he will not affect the secular lives of everyone. He will rule the world, one way or another. He may not be the Antichrist of Revelations, but if he’s not, he’s getting the world ready for him.”
Angelique could hardly hold her righteous anger. Her voice was a hissing whisper.
“Look, Kelly, if I’m damned for all time by being a rape victim, what are you? You volunteered to be involved in this!” Angelique flung her arm wide to include all the activity in the room.
“I am guilty of being selfish and wanting a power rush, but I would not participate in any real evil. I was never involved in the rites of vengeance for Lilith, only her healing. I never participated in any of the rites for evil ends.” Kelly hissed back, defensively.
“That’s not my point, Twin. You did participate in satanic rites of your own free will. I was coerced by love for my twin and I was raped! Nothing was said to me about subjecting to demons. You know damned well, Kelly Carlyle Arsol, that I wouldn’t have subjected myself to that if I’d suspected something so weird! Don’t go making pronouncements on me!” Angelique had allowed her anger to fill her voice and by the time she shot to her feet to storm away from Kelly, she had been shouting. She was not mindful of where she walked, but found herself sulking in front of Luke on his throne.
“A falling out between sisters?” he asked innocently. His appearance startled Angelique for in the span of less than a half hour, he appeared nearly fifteen.
Angelique avoided looking into his eyes. There was a small malicious smile playing at the corners of Luke’s mouth. She examined him more carefully. His hair was dull brown with hints of red. It now fell to his shoulder blades and was softly curled. His cheeks were too sharp and the bridge of his nose was high, his nostrils large and flat. He would not be a good looking man. His lips were thin and his chin impossibly pointed. He did look, Angelique thought, somewhat like a goat. She could not see his ears, but she already knew they were set too high. Angelique pointed her chin at him, defiantly.
“I suppose that’s all part of your plan, too. Break the link between Kelly and I and she’ll be easier to pull into your nightmare world.”
“She doesn’t need pulling. Kelly has had her eyes open all along. She gets a rush from flirting with annihilation.”
“Yea and that makes her twice the sinner I am.”
“Why do you say that?”
“Because she tricked me into coming into this! It’s amazing just how naive a person can be; even a world class photojournalist, like me.”
“Do I detect a tone of self-pity?” the tone of Luke’s voice was a warning. A warning not entirely lost on Angelique.
“No. Not pity. I’m just kicking myself for being blind.” her anger was cooling.
Luke’s tone became conversational. The maturity of his words chilled her slightly. Angelique could believe this was not a child she faced.
“Have you had any reason to think Kelly capable of hurting you like this?”
“None; I still shouldn’t have trusted anyone in this house. All trust gets you is burned.”
“Not always. It depends on the character of the person you choose to trust. Me, for instance. You can take me at my word, Angelique. I will never lie to you. I have no need to lie. Just be careful how you word your questions.”
This time, Angelique did look into his feral eyes. They still unnerved her, for even when the rest of his face was passive, there was something animalistic and evil about his eyes.
“Do I have a reason to be mortally afraid of you? Any reason?” she asked softly.
Luke did not answer nor change his expression for a very long time. He looked over to where Szandor was drinking a large glass of the thin elixir. When his eyes met Luke’s, there was pure hatred, then fear, in them. When Szandor’s eyes met Angelique’s, who had looked his way when Luke did, there was only consuming hatred.
“You have a reason to be in mortal fear of what I can be forced to do if Szandor or some one learns how to do the forcing.” Luke whispered, then looked at her with that tiny evil smile. “But, I do have a mind of my own and a mortal body in which to house it. How much you have to fear me, Angelique, depends on you.”
“O.K. Supposing you are exactly what they all say you are, what you say you are, and supposing I do have an immortal soul, am I damned for all time just being here?”
“Did you do anything in full understanding and full cooperation?”
“No, damn it, you know I was forced into all this!” Angelique stamped her foot in her anger and frustration.
“Not even the healings?”
“I helped heal Lilith and Kelly with some understanding of what exactly would be done in the cyclotron but not the ritual part nor the aftermath.”
“And your cooperation at the time was with what understanding?”
“That if I didn’t help heal Lilith, Kelly or I would be further harmed and that the healing for Kelly was reward for the extent of power I, personally, used to help heal Lilith. Even that healing for Kelly turned out to be a trap.”
“Since nothing you did was of your own free will, in full knowledge, then you are not accountable for what has transpired.” Luke’s voice remained calm, his tone even, his eyes only slightly sparkling, but after a short silence they became fiery, “You must beware these last hours, Angelique, you are not yet out of danger. If you believe in God, you’d best pray, fervently, for guidance, for your worst trial is before you.” then he turned away and refused to speak more.
That last frightened Angelique to her very core. The enormity of what had transpired in this room began to have a tangible reality for her. She began to believe the child on the throne was exactly what he claimed he was. The concept made Angelique’s knees weak. She fell back against the wall, wedged next to the ivory pillar. No one seemed particularly interested in finding her. Here, she prayed as she had never prayed before. Realizing that evil could be tangible and become flesh made her realize that God could become tangible and flesh and her relationship with a Christ she claimed to believe in changed. At one point she became aware that she was thanking God for her part in this. The idea startled her, but she realized the intent was that the realization of evil made her faith in Christ stronger.
She felt she was in mortal danger, still, and her prayers turned to requests for strength and for the hand of God to be upon her. The threat was from Szandor and the coven, oddly, not from Luke. Angelique has a clear instinct that Luke was not a major threat to her because she was a redeemed child of God. During her prayers she became aware that Kelly was a real threat to Angelique. Kelly was voluntarily involved with this madness and through her kinship, she could pull Angelique into hell.
Manni’s gentle touch on her arm made Angelique aware.
“It’s twenty minutes to four, Angelique. We’re to have another ritual, and you have to be in it.” she spoke softly.
Angelique would not have believed, before this hour that she could pray for four hours, solid.
“What now?” she asked as she painfully rose from her crouch against the pillar.
“Our equivalent of a Christening; Luke will be recognized in his lordship and the Legions of Hell will be called to bow at his feet.”
Angelique looked toward the altar and noticed that Luke looked about seventeen. He had attained his full stature and build. He seemed deep in meditation. There appeared to be a nimbus of darkness about him. The meaning of it so frightened Angelique that she stumbled on liquid knees.
“What’s wrong, Angelique?” Manni eyed her suspiciously.
“Nothing … Inactivity … What part am I to play in this?”
“None of which I am aware. Szandor just wants you inside the circle where he can keep an eye on you.”
The rest of their preparations took twenty minutes and Szandor started the ritual, slowly, that the first invocation came at precisely five o’clock.
All Angelique could think of was that she had thirty two hours left to endure their insanity and then she could be free. Her mind did not consciously register any of the proceedings. She spent the time reciting the twenty third psalm, over and over, until Lilith’s cold hand touched her shoulder. Beginning with Szandor, everyone in the circle had bowed before Luke and kissed or fondled his phallus, which alarmed Angelique for it was grossly oversized for the rest of his body.
When Angelique became aware of the proceedings, Szandor was just finishing an invocation to lust and turned to the congregation.
“It is fitting that the vehicle for our lord’s existence here be the altar on which his manhood is proclaimed. Bring forth the sacrifice!” he bellowed, glaring, triumphantly, at Angelique.
Lilith gripped Angelique’s arm with the strength of steel, and Andrea took her other arm. Between them, they propelled her toward the altar where Luke stood beside Szandor. When Angelique saw the look in his eyes, there was nothing of the wise child to be found. All she could see was the unbridled lust of a wild beast in heat. It terrified her so that she struggled against her captors.
Szandor came down from the altar dais and loomed over Angelique. He took her head between his massive hands and forced her gaze to rest upon his wolf-eyes. All three were murmuring the same insidious chant and Angelique’s fight left her. She became docile and unresisting in their grip.
“Now, Angelique, submit to the Lord of Lust, freely, and discover the rewards of lustful abandon.” Szandor whispered then kissed her passionately. The rest of the coven chanted their litany of lust.
“Your sacrifice is prepared, My Lord.” Szandor said to Luke and moved away.
The two Satanist women still had hold of Angelique, though she was docile in their grip, now. Luke approached with his eyes half closed. He pushed the robe open and caressed her body with expertise, his too warm hands creating flows of electricity that roused Angelique’s passion beyond her fear.
The congregation sat in a semi-circle around Luke and Angelique, who were against the steps of the altar. They continued their insidious chanting, watching their lord. Luke continued, in silence, to fire Angelique’s unresisting body. He provided every kind of pleasure her body could absorb while still on her feet. When her knees finally buckled, Luke gently laid her on the top riser and continued his maddening exploration. Angelique was no longer placid, but responded to his advances.
They were totally absorbed in each other, oblivious of the group. Just as Luke entered her willing body, Angelique became aware of a subtle change in the chant. She didn’t understand the strange language, but there was a difference in the way it made her feel. Her rationality cooled her body, slightly, but it was enough to pull Luke above the fog of lust.
“What’s wrong, Angelique? I shouldn’t have hurt you.” he whispered in her ear as he slowly worked at her body.
“You didn’t. The chant, it’s changed.”
Without missing a stroke, not alarming Szandor that they were aware of anything, Luke listened more closely to the chant and Angelique felt his body grow cooler. Angelique was aware that Luke’s attention had shifted from its total absorption in her ravishing.
Luke pulled up and stared into Angelique’s face for a while. A new fire began to burn in his odd eyes and his attention to her body had twice the ardor of moments before. Angelique became senseless again in the grip of Luke’s passionate attention. He drove her body to incredible heights of lust, causing her to crash repeatedly only to be driven higher the next time. Before he crested, Luke pulled her to him closely, and whispered in her ear.
“They are trying to make me destroy you. If you had not caught the change, I would have been lost to it, in Szandor’s control. I must ask your indulgence, Angelique, to defend your life in my own demonic way. You are only a tool in this, Angelique. Pray for your soul while I finish what must be done. Keep your eyes closed until I touch you, softly, and tell you to go.”
When Angelique nodded that she understood, Luke abandoned himself to his lust and soon crested in roaring oblivion. His climax was violent and crushing. Angelique was not seriously hurt, but she lost consciousness.
Screaming and the stench of wet barn animals woke her, but foremost in her mind was Luke’s admonition to keep her eyes closed. She endeavored to appear still unconscious or dead and prayed as fervently as she had ever prayed. The sounds around her were terrifying; screaming, animal growls and bleating, the sound of tearing flesh and cracking bones. Angelique was splattered with warm stickiness. There was a deep gurgling noise. Then a vice of fingers surrounded her ankle in a crushing hold. She managed not to react to the grip and the sudden cracking which resulted in the hand relaxing and being drawn away at the end of a protracted scream from a deep set of lungs.
Then there was near silence. It was more deafening than the din had been. Only a high pitched, keening, whimpering could be heard. Then there was the soft moaning of many voices, some of them male.
Luke gently touched Angelique’s upturned, naked hip with his overly warm hand. He was breathing heavily, but his voice was soft and his tone gentle.
“Arise, Angelique. Take your sister and leave the room. Go upstairs and clean yourselves. Dress and leave the house. Your friend Dan will be outside in an hour to drive you away.”
Angelique opened her eyes and looked at Luke’s face. It was splattered with blood and gore, but his eyes looked almost human.
“It can’t be Monday morning ...”
“It’s not. Your bargain for time was made with one who is in no position to enforce it. I am freeing you. Take your sister and go ... before my generosity runs out.”
Angelique walked to the air mattress where the high pitched keening was coming from a lump that had to be Kelly. She very carefully did not look at the condition of the room. She reached for Kelly who screamed and pulled away. Angelique was at the end of her own tolerance and grabbed a handful of Kelly’s dark hair and pulled her to her feet. Then she slapped her, hard.
“Enough, Kelly! Get your feet under you and get out of here with me; Now!” she hissed at her twin and propelled her toward the door, which now stood wide open.
As Angelique drew near the doors, someone in the room moved.
“Halt!” Luke barked, but Angelique kept moving. They made it to the elevator without incident and it began to rise. Only then, did Angelique breathe.
Kelly stood, shivering in terror and shock. Her eyes focused on her twin.
“It was horrible, Ange. I didn’t change the chant, I swear. I knew they were chanting for vengeance and I didn’t join it. When the lord was done with you, he bellowed and fell away, then when he gained his feet, he was the most loathsome thing I’ve ever seen. He stood on the step and bellowed again. Szandor rose from the circle, chanting about the lord being his instrument of vengeance. The lord said he was his own instrument and thrust his hand into Szandor’s chest. He ... he pulled Szandor’s still beating heart out and crushed it before Szandor’s eyes. Then he took Szandor’s head between his hands and ... and ... squashed it like an over ripe melon!”
Kelly collapsed into a paroxysm of tears and couldn’t say any more. The elevator came to a halt. Kelly recovered a little.
“Ange, he, the lord, Max tried to grab you and would have put a blade in your back but the lord broke his back with a stamp of his foot and pulled Max’s body away. The rest were too terrified to move. Then ... then Lilith began a chant for the vanquishment of and victory over enemies. Those of us who could find any voice picked it up and at last, the lord’s anger abated. Not before he hurt Dale and Andrea.”
The apartment door was still open and Angelique had to support more than half of Kelly’s weight to get her inside. She dragged Kelly directly to the bathroom and sat her on the commode as she ran a tub of hot water. Without undressing her, she dumped Kelly in.
“Scrub!” she ordered. The sudden dunking brought some reason back to Kelly’s freezing body and she began struggling out of her wet clothes. Angelique went to the shower stall and let the water try to warm her frozen soul.
She was starting to shrivel before she felt it necessary to turn the water off and step out.
Kelly had finished her own bath, retrieved Angelique’s terry robe and left it on the vanity for her sister. When Angelique returned to the living room of the apartment, Kelly was dressed in a polo shirt and jeans, sneakers and a light jacket.
“How will we get away, Angel?” Kelly asked in a very small voice.
Angelique looked with compassion on her sister, who hadn’t called her “Angel” since they were less than ten.
“Dan is picking us up, Luke called him.”
“He’s letting us both go?”
They walked down the stairs rather than take the elevator which opened facing the door of Szandor’s apartment. When they reached the bottom step, not only was the door now unbarred, it was standing open. Sacul was pacing up and down the sidewalk outside. Angelique flew into his embrace and Kelly as well. Sacul hugged them both fiercely to him for a long time before he could get them to move up the walk toward his Chevy Nova.
Inside the car, as they turned the corner heading for Ninth Avenue, Kelly spoke softly from between Angelique and Sacul.
“Angelique, I want to go to the Sisters of Mount Hope convent. I need to recuperate, but more, I need to repent and get my soul back, if I can.”
Angelique realized that only three days ago, she would have made some kind of disparaging remark about religious fanatics, but she totally understood her sister’s reasoning now.
“I may join you there for a while, Kelly. I need them, too.” she replied with a very shaky voice.
“What on earth happened to the two of you? Angie, I’ve never in my life seen you frightened.” Sacul commented, totally perplexed.
“I can’t tell you now, Dan. Please. Someday I may be able to, but not now.”
“O.K. babe, don’t worry about it. I’ll drive you both right to the convent now, if you want.”
Kelly sobbed herself to sleep within five minutes, cuddled against Sacul’s strong side. Angelique settled into the safety of the car and allowed the terror and pain of the last two days to drain from her. She also fell asleep.
At the far side of being able to be startled awake, but not in deep sleep yet, Luke’s feral eyes blazed into her consciousness.
“Angelique, remember, as long as you believe I exist and you fear me, I have power over you. But I will not use that power unless you become a threat to me. To that extent, Child of God, I release you to what peace you can find.”
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