Amature writer looking for feedack on my First novel, if you like what you see the 2nd chapter is on my blog simpsonpublishing.wordpress.com

CHAPTER ONE

Rome Italy November 1979

“Good evening Father”

The Priest smiled politely and nodded his reply.

Father Michael Attorio had just finished his weekly visit at the Citta University. He was making his way out of the University grounds into the, surprisingly pleasant, late autumn evening. He had just finished his sermon. It was part of his diocese so it was a duty that came with the territory, it was a practice that didn’t really make much sense to the Priest, considering his own modest Church was but a ten minute walk away, however the students seemed to enjoy the weekly visits.

Despite the fact that Rome was the centre of Christianity, where the presence of God was on every street corner, every park, every public building and in every home, the Vatican was only too aware that religion wasn’t too high on the list of priorities of the younger generation. Despite the hundreds of Priests that patrolled the quaint cobbled streets, spreading the good word of God, the young adults, more often than not, would try to distance themselves from religion. Whether it was personal preference, busy social lives or fear of ridicule from the less than savoury younger locals, they would always side step the issues of the Bible. Predictably, the Vatican decided to take the Church to the students. Still, Father Attorio usually enjoyed himself once the irritation had passed as did most of the students. Once they were inside the deep confines of the University, away from the public glare, they would usually relax and open up to religion. In truth they found inner peace and guidance from the weekly visits. They were usually just too embarrassed to admit it.

Father Attorio made his way through the scenic University grounds answering the one hundredth “Good evening Father “with a polite nod and smile. It had been a long, exhausting day and the Priest was beginning to feel weary. He made his way across the empty road (you were more likely to get run over by a group of Priests than a car at this time of night) to the V.DEI.Rami and headed west to his small Parish.

The Priest turned into his small church grounds. The building itself, stood high above the road below, only reachable by climbing the well worn steps that led up to the quaint but simple building. It wasn’t the most popular Church in Rome, the steep climb was enough to put most people off visiting.

The centuries old building had a very simple aura about it. It stood between thirty and forty feet high, it was sandy brown in colour with the main entrance to the Church directly in the centre. The door was made of solid oak, with a white arch above the entrance. A small crucifix had been built on top of the white arch and there were two small windows directly above the entrance spaced evenly apart. It was a simple, yet stunning piece of architecture. To either side of the main entrance were two smaller doors, virtually on the corners of the building. The entrance on the left was for employees of the parish, the other was Father Attorio’s private chambers. The trees that surrounded the Church and ran parallel with the stone steps gave the grounds a very picturesque image. It wouldn’t have looked out of place in an English rural village.

Attorio groaned at the sight of the steep incline. Perspiration was now beginning to drip off the Priest’s forehead; a combination of the late, warm, autumn evening and his heavy, dark attire, there was barely a hint of a breeze which he would have more than welcomed. Almost reluctantly, he began to climb his daily Everest, passing the statue of St Peter that was half way up the incline.

Suddenly, from nowhere an abnormal gust of wind hit the Priest with such force that it caused him to stagger, the gust originated from the top of the steps. The Priest wasn’t sure if it was his imagination but it almost seemed to howl its displeasure at his approach. Attorio was perplexed, where had that wind come from? There had barely been a hint of wind all day as Rome was enjoying a peculiar, but never the less welcome, beautiful autumn’s day. He glanced up towards his Parish and for some strange reason Attorio went deathly cold and for a split second he shivered violently. The unexplainable feeling passed as quickly as it arrived but had left the Priest with the distinct feeling that somebody had just walked over his grave.

Curiously the wind that had seemed to pass through his very soul had simply disappeared. The single, hellish gust of wind had vanished as quickly as it had announced itself. He looked up at his Church and frowned, now that was completely out of the ordinary, he shrugged his shoulders and continued his struggle up the steep incline.

The Priest eventually reached the peak and headed to his own personal quarters. The sudden blast of the icy wind still bothered him but he didn’t know why. He reached the door and searched for his keys, he took them from underneath his black vestments, a typical large bunch, in tradition of the old church. Mild irritation hit him as he struggled to turn the key in the old lock; it was in need of a little oil, and made the final twist a little cumbersome. He entered his private chambers and closed the door behind him, grateful to be in the confines of his Church. He walked wearily over to kitchen sink- ignoring the dirty plates and reached for a glass. He filled it with water and drank furiously, he hadn’t realised how thirsty he was.

He walked back over to the front door and locked it, hanging his purple sash on the coat rack. He walked over to the small wooden table and placed his Bible on the purple cloth that was covering it. He lit the candle in the middle of the table with the matches that lay next to it. The flame lit up the beautiful but simple room causing shadows to dance around the walls, giving him an eerie feeling that he wasn’t alone. An artist’s impression of Jesus stared down at him, giving him a warm, comforting, almost protective feeling. He glanced over longingly at his arm chair. He was desperately tired and longed to sink in to its warm embrace with glass of wine and a cigarette. He presumed, and hoped, that God turned a blind eye to his sinful vices because he had never once mentioned them to him. He didn’t test Gods patience though and kept them to a minimum, it was their little secret. His tasks for the day weren’t over and he still had to pray. With a huge sigh he headed to the adjoining door that that led to the heart of his Church.

He paused just before he opened the door. It was no use; the urge to take a drink had now become overwhelming. He turned and strode purposely to the old cabinet that stood behind his armchair, he quickly opened it. He stared at the bottle of red wine, his hand suspended in mid air as the bottle of whiskey that stood next to the Merlot stared enticingly back at him. He shrugged his shoulders and reached for the bottle of whiskey that almost grinned triumphantly back at him. In one quick movement he unscrewed the cap and took a large gulp, grimacing as the fiery liquid caused his insides to scream at the searing heat. He replaced the bottle and quickly returned to the door to the Church.

The Priest entered the small, idyllic chapel and made his way to the front altar. Despite being deeply devoted to his religion, he sometimes found that the empty Church, especially in the evening, was sometimes a little sinister. The coldness always hit him as soon as he entered. The age old building was forever freezing. The distinct lack of repair that his home was crying out for did little to help the temperatures within the confines of the building. However, when he had shaken off the notion that there was not something sinister lying in wait for him, Father Attorio enjoyed the small, confined, almost claustrophobic spaces as much as his sparse congregation. It gave off a secure and personal feelings to his flock and besides there were much bigger Churches and Cathedrals for the more traditional Catholics to enjoy and the Sistine Chapel was less than a few miles away.

Father Attorio knelt before the altar, he gazed up at the, huge, wooden crucifix with his Lord staring down from it. He quickly crossed himself, kissed his rosary beads and then bowed his head and began to pray.

A loud hammering beat at the door of the Church. Attorio’s head span alarmingly to it’s origin. The hammering became more persistent and louder. There seemed to be a frantic urgency to the blows. Father Attorio stood with concern on his face. He was used to having visitors at any time of the day, usually some poor child may have needed spiritual guidance or wanted to repent their sins. This was Rome after all.

No, it was the manner of the persistent knocking that told him this was no routine call for forgiveness. He quickly recovered his composure and strode intently to the main Church door. Despite the ill feeling he had, Attorio pulled back the iron bolts and opened the church door without hesitation, revealing a dark silhouette outlined by the nightfall that had started to settle over Rome.

Initially the Priest was relieved that there was no more than a Nun standing on the threshold of the church. The Convent was situated no more than two hundred yards away; it was part of Attorio’s parish. The Priest had no say in this matter, not that he really had any objection, it just another party trick from the Almighty (he did have a number of sins to pay for). However the agitated expression on the young Nun’s face told him this was no social call.

“Oh Father, thank goodness you’re here” she gasped, trying to catch her breath. She had obviously run from the Convent in a great hurry.

Where else would I be? Thought the Priest and immediately regretted his silent outburst.

When Attorio was tired he was easily irritated but this was a luxury Priests weren’t allowed to indulge in. He instantly recognised the Nun, but for the life of him he couldn’t remember her name. Rack up another item on the sin list.

“Come in Sister ……..!” He was useless.

“Tell me what is troubling you?” he said in a soothing tone.

He ushered her inside the Church and prompted her to sit down at the nearest pew. He waited for her breathing to become less laboured and she became more comfortable in his presence.

The young Nun finally recovered her composure enough to blurt out to the Priest.
“It’s Sister Vanessa, she hasn’t been well lately Father but there is something else, some thin……!”

Attorio held his hand up, she was talking too fast and her words were tumbling over each other. There was something about her mannerisms that were troubling to the Priest.

“Sister, please calm down and start at the beginning. There is no rush”. The Priest replied gently.

“Father, there is a rush, there really is. You must come quickly!” she replied, her voice crackling with underlying urgency.

He realised the urgency in the Nun’s tone and he could see quite clearly the concern that was etched on her features. He rose from the pew and headed to the entrance of the Church. The Sister immediately followed.

“Sister, you can tell me as we walk” he replied, trying to sound as gentle as he could.

They both left the inner sanctum and headed out of the Church. The Priest turned and locked the door behind them and headed towards the Convent.

“Tell me about Sister Vanessa’s condition” Attorio said.

He shivered violently, surprised at the sudden change in the weather. He thought to return to the Church and retrieve his overcoat but decided against it. The temperature had inexplicably dropped despite the warm autumn day the capital had just experienced. The Priest looked up to the skies and was surprised to see dark clouds starting to gather above Rome.

They made their way carefully down the steep grass embankment, to the stone shale path that led to the old, dilapidated Convent. It was desperately in need of repair but despite living in the shadow of the Vatican, the repairs went unheeded. It seemed the head quarters of the Catholic Church rarely offered any financial assistance to the lesser of the Capital’s attractions, there was obviously little financial gain for them in doing so.

“Sister Vanessa has been sick for a couple of days now”, the nun began, “The doctor has been out to see her and diagnosed a virus, but it is very strange Father”

The Priest nodded, a mild irritation settled over him. Did he have to guess?

”What is strange?” he asked.

”Her temperature Father, well, she‘s freezing”

”So it cannot be a virus” he stated, wondering why he was being dragged down to the Convent for this matter.

“She has not been out of her bed for over two days now and is refusing food and water” the young Nun continued.

At this point the Priest became a little concerned.

“Has the doctor been asked to return?” he asked.

“Yes Father, he is there now. It was he that requested your presence “, she answered.
“Sister, why has the doctor asked for me; what possible help can I be to him?” Attorio asked.

“Please Father forgive me, we must hurry, you can judge for yourself”. There was no hiding the urgency in her voice, she was almost pleading with the Priest.

Suddenly, from nowhere that ferocious wind howled throughout the Church grounds. It was much stronger than the one that had hit the Priest earlier. The trees started bending and creaking under the pure brute strength of nature’s onslaught, so strong was the blast that it began hurtling the Priest and the Nun down the shale path that led towards the Convent’s court yard. The leaves from the trees that had fallen to the floor on their yearly pilgrimage whispered their indignation at the sudden intrusion from their autumn slumber as they were propelled into the air and were swept along with the strong, violent, unseen force. The wind was whistling through the bare branches causing the resting birds to flee their homes, squawking their indignation as they did so.

Reaching the courtyard rather more quickly than Attorio would have liked, he caught hold of the weather worn gate at the entrance as the wind tried to propel him past the Convent towards the wooded area beyond the old building. The Nun had to grab the Priest’s garb to prevent her from being blown past the grounds. The Priest pushed the gate hard against the ferocious wind which had now changed its direction. It was almost as if it was now trying to force the Priest away from the Convent. He redoubled his efforts and pushed at the gate for all he was worth, the old withered wood finally gave way and Attorio went crashing through the gate, the Nun also went sprawling, catching him on the head, his hat blowing off in to the dark, windswept, skies. The wind now screamed loudly around the courtyard creating tiny tornado funnels of leaves and debris. Stones were now swirling around the old courtyard in an extremely dangerous manner. Attorio now feared for their safety.

“SISTER!” the Priest screamed above the howling wind.

“TAKE MY HAND”

The Nun could barely hear him above the incessant noise but had the sense to take the proffered hand. They literally had to crawl towards the Convent, the Priest shielding his eyes against the debris and stones, the Nun screamed in terror and pain as she was hit by one of the flying missiles. Attorio momentarily lost his grip on the young Nuns hand but quickly retrieved it. The fear and pain in her eyes galvanised the Priest’s strength and he pulled her, almost dragging her along, the shale path that led to the front of the Convent. The door opened and several Nuns came rushing to their aid, screaming as the wind seemed to turn its anger towards them, the strength from his body started to drain under the weight of dragging the helpless Nun to safety, Attorio became breathless and he beckoned for their help. Between them all, they managed to scramble to safety inside the compounds of the Convent. Attorio heaved his body against the door and pushed it back in to its frame, groaning with the effort.

They all stood there trying to catch their breath, Attorio was deeply worried. Where had the violent wind come from? It seemed as if it had been driven by an unseen force. It’s intent somehow, seemed undeniable, was it his imagination or was something trying to keep him from the Convent? He had a heavy feeling in his stomach, it was the same feeling that he had when the wind first hit him on the steps of his diocese. His gut feeling was telling him to get to Sister Vanessa as soon as possible. He didn’t know why, but he couldn’t shake off the ill feeling that had spread over his body. Something seemed to be very wrong within the walls of the Convent, he knew the old Convent was a cold place to be, he had felt the chill on numerous occasions but this was different, there was a subtle, crispy edge to the cold surroundings, the atmosphere also seemed devoid of spiritual calm and peace, there was something else that was hanging heavily in the air and his senses told him it was generating from the whereabouts of the sick Nun; he didn’t know why he came to this assumption, it was just a heavy feeling in his stomach he had that wouldn’t go away.

Attorio looked around at the Nuns who were all in a state of shock. They were staring at him like rabbits, frozen in the glare of headlights, unable to free themselves from the danger that was approaching. They were looking at the Priest for guidance and reassurance. The Nun who had escorted him had blood seeping down her face where the stones and debris had hit her but she would live, thankfully. The Mother Superior stepped forward, undisguised anguish on her face.

“Father, are you alright?” she asked with concern.

Attorio nodded but gesticulated to the stricken, young Nun, whose injuries needed attending to. The Mother Superior immediately barked directives to the colleagues that had helped them into the Convent; they quickly led the injured Nun away to be treated.

“Father, we must get to Sister Vanessa quickly” she said in a hushed tone.

The Priest nodded, the knotted feeling within his stomach was growing stronger by the second, a sense of foreboding pressed heavily against his temple.

“Take me to her, is the Doctor still with her?” He asked with a degree of urgency.

She grunted in confirmation and strode briskly down the corridor, passing the nervous looking Nuns that were cowering inside their separate cells; she quickly closed the doors on their apprehensive faces. Attorio followed close behind her, aware of the deep, heavy, and extremely cold atmosphere that had now descended on the narrow hall way. They reached the end of the corridor and turned left, the temperature dropping even lower, almost to the point of freezing; the Priest noticed the Doctor was standing outside, what he presumed, were Vanessa’s chambers. His features were gaunt and ashen, the concern was clearly written all over on his face. The priest shook the Doctors hand.

“Doctor what is the Sisters diagnosis?” He got straight to the point.

“She has all the symptoms of a virus Father” he replied” except for her temperature. She would normally have a hot fever”.

“I have been told she hasn’t, she is extremely cold?” the priest enquired.

The Doctor nodded his head in confirmation.

“She is freezing Father and I am very concerned for her physical health. Vanessa is extremely frail but there is something else Father, something your particular field of work might shed some light on.” the Doctor placed his bag on the floor.

“I’m not sure I understand”, Attorio replied.

“She appears, in my opinion, to be in need of spiritual help”.

The meaningful expression on the Doctors face was not lost on the Priest. That, coupled with the extraordinary change in the weather and the plunging temperatures within the Convent, made the knots in his stomach tighten even stronger.

“I will see what I can do”. He replied.

The Priest reached for the door handle and froze as a deep guttural voice growled from within.

“FUCK OFF PRIEST”.

Attorio looked at the Doctor in alarm, the Doctor merely nodded in confirmation, the worried expression never once leaving his face. The Priest realised at that moment that this was the reason why he had been summoned. Attorio turned the door handle and strode into the dormitory, the Doctor and the Mother Superior closely following him.

The room was freezing. The Sister flicked the light switch on and the room lit up; the first thing that Attorio noticed was that the wood fire had burnt out and indicated to the head Sister to relight it, she duly obliged; using the spare wood stacked neatly near the old fashioned fireplace. Attorio realised that he was in a multiple cell as he stared at the three empty beds, the Doctor pointed to the right of the room.

The Priest turned and stared at the bed opposite, there, sat upright in bed with no sheets on her upper torso was Sister Vanessa, her gowns had been discarded and her frail, naked body stared back at Attorio. Her breathing appeared to be much laboured, exhaling from her mouth like tiny puffs of smoke; there appeared to be, what looked like froth or spittle emanating from her mouth. Attorio strode purposely to the Nun’s bedside. He sat down at the side of her and felt her forehead, and he turned to the Doctor with visible concern on his weary features.

“Doctor” the Priest said “she IS freezing, are you sure your right with your analysis?”

“As I have said before she has all the symptoms of a virus or fever, her body temperature should be way above normal. It isn’t, and this concerns me immensely”, the doctor replied.

Attorio glanced around the room; it was empty except for the ailing Nun. He didn’t want to admit it to himself, but the deep growling voice had must have come from Sister Vanessa. He had heard the familiar guttural voice before on numerous occasions, when he had performed exorcisms. This seemed different, the voice knew he was outside the door and this scared him to his very soul. Despite the fact that Sister Vanessa was sat upright, she seemed to be in a very restless sleep. He could feel his apprehension growing as he lay the Nun down and covered her shivering body with the bed sheets, her frailty was all too apparent.

It was then, with no warning what so ever, Sister Vanessa began to thrash wildly, her arms and legs kicked and flailed, with strength that belied her weakened state. She started to scream and wail hysterically. The Doctor rushed to the other side of the bed and grabbed a hold of Sister Vanessa. The Priest did likewise. Between them they managed to force the Nun back down on to the bed, holding her there so there was little chance of harming herself. This feat alone caused their bodies to ache, even with their combined strength, they were struggling to contain her, and the strength of the Nuns “apparent” epileptic seizure had taken the pair of them by surprise. The Priest was gravely concerned she would bite into her tongue; he could feel the gravity of the situation growing. He placed his hand on her forehead and talked gently to her, trying to sooth her, carefully avoiding her snapping, foaming teeth as she tried to viciously bite into the Priests arm.
“Sister we need this room warm as soon as possible” he could feel the temperature rising but he knew it wasn’t enough, not nearly warm enough for Sister Vanessa to get through this situation alive.

The Mother Superior threw more wood onto the fire, the flames eagerly attacking the old wood, crackling their approval as the wood submerged in a hot crescendo. Attorio looked back down at the Nun, her thrashing had subsided and she was now just shivering again, he noticed her eyelids were open revealing only the whites of her eyes, which had rolled to the back of her head, disturbed the Priest greatly. He whispered into her ear again, trying to reach inside the Nun, coaxing her back to normality. Her eyelids closed momentarily, and then snapped open, revealing deep, black, soulless pits.

Attorio recoiled from the Nun’s side and stared in shock at the frail, young woman.

Sister Vanessa suddenly smiled up at Attorio, her black eyes fixed their gaze firmly upon him.

Suddenly the dormitory door burst open with such force that it crashed back into the wall, causing it to completely unhinge and fall sideways to the floor. An unearthly, wind swept through the dormitory, up heaving everything in its way. Chairs, and the main table in the middle of the room were lifted off the floor, the other three empty beds were dragged unceremoniously across the room and slammed with such brute force against the walls, that the brickwork came crashing to the floor, The wind encouraging the fire to flee from its confined space and reap havoc, the Sister slapping at the flames that had attached themselves to her black robes, Sister Vanessa’s bed started to vibrate and then slowly, move across the floor towards the window area, it started to gather momentum, the wind dragging it mercilessly across the cell, The Priest flung himself across the helpless Nun and gripped tightly on to the bed, hoping the combined weight of would slow the bed from its obvious destination. The window!

The Doctor tried vainfully to grab a hold of anything that was close to him as the sheer strength of the wind propelled him across the spacious room at speed towards the large bay window. He screamed in fear as his body gathered momentum, unable to help himself, he was frantically grabbing at the chairs that had been blown across his path, to no avail, he could do nothing to help himself as the wind hurled him towards the large window, survival instinct took over and the Doctor closed his eyes as his head burst through the glass cutting deeply into his windpipe, instantly severing his jugular, leaving him to bleed to death, The Mother Superior’s anguished scream echoed harrowingly around the dormitory, alerting the Priest to the fatality, but he was too preoccupied with his own situation, the bed was now turning full circle; he began praying fervently in Latin as he clung on to the Nun’s bed.
Curiously, the hurricane like wind suddenly disappeared as quickly as it had begun bringing sanity and calm amidst the evil chaos that had unfolded only moments before.

Attorio could just about make out Sister Vanessa muttering under her breath, her words almost inaudible. He leant closer to her (her biting teeth having subsided) so he could hear more easily. His eyes opened wider, a chill ran down his spine as he began to recognise the Nuns murmured, broken dialogue. Sister Vanessa suddenly lay prone, almost lifeless and had fallen into a coma like, sleep.

The Priest stood and let out a sigh of relief, he was exhausted, confused and scared at what he had just witnessed. He looked over to the Doctor whose whole body was twitching in the last throes of death. He walked slowly over to the him; the realisation of dread hitting the Priest, he knew the Doctor was dead. Tears welled up in Attorio eyes as he stood in the crimson, liquid pool, confirming the worst, as he stared down sadly at the Doctor’s prone, lifeless body. The Mother Superior called out to the Priest, bringing his nerve- shredded senses back to focus on the current situation. The Nun had a look of pure abject horror on her face. Attorio pushed his own, personal feelings to one side, surveying the carnage before him, he acted swiftly.

“Sister, will you telephone the appropriate emergency numbers to take care of the Doctor and we need to move Sister Vanessa from this room, somewhere more comfortable and secure please?”

“Father, what just happened here?” she stammered, unable to take her eyes from the Doctors body, her mind unwilling to comprehend the last previous few minutes.

“Sister”, Attorio said gently.

No reply.

”SISTER”, he said more firmly.

The Nun looked over at the Priest and replied, embarrassed with herself.

“Father, forgive me please, of course I will make the necessary arrangements, I will have Sister Vanessa moved to my private quarters”,
With those parting words, she promptly scurried away with her assignments, barking orders in the hallway to her extremely worried counterparts.

Attorio walked back over to the stricken Nuns bedside, she seemed to be in a much more stable condition, her breathing almost back to normal, he wiped the mucus away from her mouth with the corner of the bed spread. Suddenly the Nuns eyes sprang open and stared directly at the Priest, he caught his breath and tried not to recoil from the helpless Nun.

“Thank you Father”, she murmured, closing her eyes once more and instantly fell into a deep sleep.

Attorio was relieved for that. He made the sign of the cross on her forehead and was troubled to see the Nuns face briefly turn into a grimace as he did so, the image was fleeting and passed quickly but the hairs on his head stood to attention cementing the grave concern he was now feeling.

Father Attorio sank gratefully into his favourite armchair, he had poured himself a modest glass of wine, he felt the need for something much stronger but the wine would have to suffice, he knew the night wasn’t over and he needed to stay conscious, although he craved for another drop of whiskey. He lit the cigarette he had been yearning for, caressing it like a long lost friend and inhaled deep into his lungs, relishing the comfort it gave him, his thoughts went back to the hellish events at the Convent.

It had been over two hours since the Doctor had so horrifically died; the emergency services had quickly cleaned the dormitory and removed the deceased Doctor from the Convent. The Police had left with the hardly convincing statements given by Attorio and the Nun. The disbelief was written all over their faces and who could blame them; a hurricane like wind had swept through the Convent, killing the Doctor, wasn’t the most believable story they had ever heard.

Exhaling the smoke, he reached for the wine and took a large drink of it, swallowing noisily. He sat forward in his chair, his thoughts going back Sister Vanessa’s mutterings that were troubling him. He had barely been able to hear her rambling but it was the language rather than the words she had spoken that concerned him gravely.

He obviously recognised the Latin she had uttered (he wouldn’t have been much of a Priest if he hadn’t) but he could of sworn he heard the Nun speak in “old English”, a centuries old dialect, certainly a language Sister Vanessa would have no knowledge of. He had witnessed the language on a couple of occasions whilst working in Israel and neither was in pleasant circumstances. He had kept his thoughts to himself, there was no reason to worry the Nun, although she must have been thinking along the same line as Attorio. How could the horrific scenes she had witnessed leave her with any other explanation? If she believed in good (which she obviously did) then she couldn’t deny the presence of evil and without a doubt something unholy had transpired at the Convent that very evening.

He remembered the gale force wind that had destroyed the dormitory, killing the doctor. He was sure that very same wind had tried to prevent him entering the convent, as if some unknown force was trying to keep him out. The deep horrible voice that had warned him that his presence wasn’t welcome and the mysterious, unusual use of “old English”

Attorio was convinced that Sister Vanessa was possessed.

The Priest had relayed his fears to his close friend Father Delaney at the Vatican, giving him a precise description of the events that had occurred at the Convent. His friend was in agreement with Attorio but they both knew, a more esteemed opinion was needed from the higher ranks of the Catholic Church, even though Attorio was an experienced exorcist he knew a thorough investigation would have to be carried out before the Vatican would agree to a Exorcism of this obvious magnitude, it was deemed the last resort. They had to be sure who or what they were dealing with, they would insist that every avenue of knowledge to be exhausted before giving the ritual their blessing, the wellbeing of the victim was paramount.

Father Attorio was an experienced exorcist, having on numerous occasions successfully cured the possessed victim. There were Priests that performed exorcisms on a daily basis, more often than not the victims presumed they were possessed; whereas in truth they were only in need of spiritual guidance and a simple blessing would often solve the problem. Attorio had actually dealt with various Demons but found them, if anything, more mischievous than they were evil and dealt with them swiftly.

A lonely Nun was easy prey for a particular demon commonly known as “incubi”. The victim would often wake up in the morning and complain of feeling polluted, as if they had slept with a man. These demons could easily be dealt with; he had seen it with his own eyes in various situations. However, if the Nun was a virgin, which was most often the case and had taken vows of celibacy then a more sinister possession could materialize.

A celibate, virginal Nun was a particular delicacy of the Devil himself.

This troubled the Priest enormously, to his knowledge the Devil never gave up his victims lightly. The Devil tyrannically uses another’s body as its own property, he throws down those who stand upright, he perverts the tongue and distorts the lips; foam often emanated from the mouth instead of words. The victim convulses violently before his or her imminent death. This was more commonly known to the Catholic Church as “catechisms”.

Father Delaney had agreed with Attorio. All the signs he had described pointed to the source of all evil.

The induced trances of shamans, which resemble hysteria or epilepsy, Sister Vanessa symptoms certainly gave the argument some credence. The writhing and contortions of the face and body would be impossible to perform unless under abnormal circumstances. The change of voice to a deep and gruff nature, commonly known as belly speaking, this would of explained the cursed outburst that couldn’t of come from anywhere but Sister Vanessa. If, as the Priest feared that it was the Devil himself occupying the Nuns body then time was against them. The insides of the victim, the organs of the body would slowly be consumed, causing a foul nauseating stench to emanate from the body. It was almost as if the victim was being eaten from the inside out. They had to act quickly.

Attorio waited impatiently for the phone call.

Thirty minutes later a small tapping on Father Attorio living quarters woke the Priest from his light sleep. The rigours of the day’s events had taken its toll on him. He pushed himself up and glanced at the clock above the modest fireplace as he did so. It was one thirty. He slapped his face with both hands in a bid to wake himself up; he quickly strode to the door and slid the bolts open, he pulled the door back allowing the moonlight to flood into his premises. There stood a man whom the Priest didn’t recognise.

“Father Attorio?” the stranger asked.

“That’s correct, who am I speaking to?”

The man stepped forward and offered his hand.

“My name is Maicon, the Vatican have sent me down to assist you”

“Ah good” he replied. He took the proffered hand and shook it warmly.

“That was quick” the Priest went on, “I didn’t expect the response so quickly”.

“The Vatican are extremely concerned with the information you have given them Father” he replied as they walked into the Priests private chambers, Attorio closing the door behind them.

“Please sit down”, he pulled the worn chair from the table and Maicon gratefully sat down, Attorio sat opposite, he stared intently at the stranger, trying not to focus on the his curious attire.

“So the Vatican are worried, what are their views?”The Priest asked.

“They think the situation is grave enough to get me involved “.

“I take it your the person who will determine whether or not an exorcism will be needed?” Attorio replied, the man’s face appeared ageless.

“The exorcism will be needed Father I can assure you of that”.

This perplexed Attorio somewhat; surely he needed to examine the Nun before he could make a decision.

“Do you have what you need for the ritual?” Maicon asked.

Attorio nodded.
“How can you be sure that an exorcism is needed without having seen Vanessa?” the Priest replied.

Maicon stared back at him intently.

“You’re an experienced exorcist Father. Do you believe the ritual is needed?”

“Personally, yes I do but my judgement alone isn’t enough. That I do know Maicon”.

There was something bothering the Priest about this confident stranger, surely it wasn’t this easy or straightforward.

“I am here to assist you Father ———“, the phone started to ring interrupting Maicon.

The Priest stared at the phone.

“Are you going to answer that?” the stranger prompted.

Attorio rose from the chair and strode over to the phone, he picked the receiver up.

“Hello”.

The Priest listened intently for a few moments without saying a word and placed the receiver gently back onto its cradle. He turned to Maicon, who had already stood and said gravely.

“We should go”

Maicon nodded.

“Make sure you have everything you need, this will not be over quickly”.

This, again, troubled the Priest. How did this man know that for a fact, he had no idea what they were dealing with, he hadn’t seen the Nun to make any kind of assumption. The comments Maicon had been making weren’t adding up as far as Attorio was concerned and his natural defences were beginning to make the Priest wary of the bold stranger.

Attorio went to work. He checked his bag yet again, since the phone call to the Vatican he had mentally prepared for this moment. He wasn’t a novice in any way but as far as Attorio was aware he had never faced off against the Devil. His bag consisted of the bible, crucifix, the sacred oils, blessed Holy Water and a container of normal water meant to wean out the deceptions, if the possessed reacted to the water that hadn’t been blessed, then Attorio would know there wasn’t a possession to exorcise. He truly hoped the later would be the end conclusion, but his head and heart told him this wouldn’t be the case. He also packed a change of clothing( carefully wrapped in the centre of his garments was a small flask with something a little strong, just in case his nerves became a little frayed).

Maicon watched the Priest with interest as Attorio repacked his bag, he noticed there was something missing and looked enquiringly at the Priest, who looked a little bashful.

“You didn’t see the ritual?”Attorio ventured.

Maicon smiled as Attorio tapped his temple.

“I have it memorised”

Maicon looked impressed.

“Shall we go?”

He addressed the Priest in a gentle tone. Attorio took a deep breath, collected his belongings and headed towards the door of his chambers, they both stepped out into the extremely chilly night air, a sense of foreboding hitting them, there seemed to be something in the air, deep and tangible. The Priest locked the Church door behind and they both headed in the direction of the Convent. Attorio was mildly surprised that there was no chilling wind waiting to greet them as it had when he and the young Nun had made their to the Convent earlier that evening.

They both entered the Convents courtyard to complete darkness. Considering the phone call the Priest had received only minutes earlier, there was no welcoming party awaiting them. Attorio was again baffled by the lack activity. They walked towards the Convents main door, an eerie atmosphere had descended over them, there was no wind, no sound whatsoever, a fresh feeling of unease swept over the Priest.

“I thought they were expecting us”, Maicon broke the silence.

“They are!”

The Priest rapped loudly on the thick wooden door. Moments later he could hear the heavy, clunking, bolts being drawn back. The huge door opened slowly and the tall frame of the Mother Superior appeared, she seemed to breathe a sigh of relief.

“Father, what are you doing here?” she whispered.

She recoiled on seeing the trepidation on the Priests face which had turned to confusion and alarm.

“Sister, you have just telephoned me to come at once. What has happened to Sister Vanessa, is she alright?”

She nodded.

“Yes Father, she is sleeping but she seems fine. Vanessa is safely in my quarters as you asked but__”

She stared at the Priest with a confused look on her face.

“Sister, what is it? Why are you looking at me in that manner?” Attorio asked.
“I didn’t make any phone call to you Father” her troubled reply echoed around them.

The statement seemed to hang heavy in the reception area, fear written all over the Mother Superior’s face. Maicon stepped forward and spoke quietly but reassuringly to the Nun.

“Sister, I don’t have the pleasure of your name” he smiled encouragingly at her.

“It’s Sister Abigail Father” she replied.

“WE need to get to Sister Vanessa immediately”, he said firmly.

Maicon spoke to the Nun once more.

“Could you bring water and towels please Sister?”

She nodded in confirmation.

“Sister, bring two of your most senior personnel, whose faith you know to be impregnable, bring your Bibles too” It was Attorio that spoke.

“Yes Father”. With that she disappeared through an adjacent door.

“Father, I need you to tell me the basics of the exorcism” Maicon said turning towards the Priest.

The Priest looked back at him with an undisguised look of irritation on his face.

“Maicon, with all due respect I have performed exorcisms on countless occasions” he replied somewhat abruptly.

Maicon nodded in agreement.

“Father, please forgive me, it wasn’t meant in a condescending way but it is my belief that the Devil himself is at work in this house. I have read your files and your experiences are impressive although I doubt you have ever dealt with a situation of this magnitude”.

The look on Maicon face was of genuine concern. The Priest was immediately embarrassed by his sharp reply. He went to apologise but Maicon held his hand up to ward off any sentiment from the Priest.

“I just need to know your frame of mind, the basics are of the most importance, and it will focus your beliefs and confidence before you face him” Maicon said softly.

“Can I ask why you are so sure it is the Devil we are facing, forgive me for being frank but you haven’t seen Sister Vanessa yet so your confidence is slightly baffling “

“Call it personal intuition Father” Maicon replied.

“I am sorry Maicon but I am going to need more than that” Attorio countered.

Attorio wasn’t letting it go and Maicon knew it, he stared deep in to the Priests eyes.

“I need you to trust me Father. Let us please attend to what is at hand here and then I will talk to you. Will that suffice you?” Maicon’s tone was still calm but firm.

His tone told the Priest that was the subject was closed, at least for now. Attorio nodded, somewhat sheepishly.

“I am only here to assist you should you require it Father” said Maicon.

“It has to be me to perform this exorcism?” Attorio replied.
Attorio was beginning to feel more and more fearful of what was to come. Maicon nodded in confirmation.

“May I ask why?”

Maicon looked intently at the priest.

“Because HE summons YOU”

The Priest looked incredulously back at him.

“Father, the phone call that you received was not made by Sister Abigail; you must know that by now” Maicon explained.

Realization suddenly dawned on the Priest, his skin crawled at the thought and the remark was not lost on the Priest. Sister Abigail had returned with her colleagues and led the way down the corridor, Attorio and Maicon followed them.

Attorio took a deep breath and began making sure he was quick but precise.

“The Demons or Devil are honour bound to tell the Priest it’s real name although they will never reveal their true identity; they will talk of what hierarchy they belong to or what particular personality the demon has, such as anger, gluttony, and envy. Speak directly to the possessed victim and never engage in conversation with the demon itself.”

They had nearly reached the end of the long cold corridor, both acutely aware that the gravity of the situation that was awaiting them.

“Explain the dangers of doing so “Maicon was aware time was upon them.

“The demon will use it to his advantage, they will speak of subjects only known to yourself, they want you to react towards them and they will feed of your emotions, trying to deter you from the task at hand” the Priest answered.

“Good, remember the serpent is a conjurer, a deluder, an illusionist, he will use everything at his disposal to prevent you from performing duties, it’s anger they want from you, it will make them stronger, the possessed victim will start to become much weaker. The Devil only wants the innocents soul, the human body means nothing to him.”

As they turned left the temperature had noticeably dropped. The chilling cold seemed to stick to their faces. Attorio’s lips seemed to dry up and stretched, the thin skin on his lips seemed to be quite literally cracking. The Priest’s eyes widened in alarm as he glanced at the walls of the corridor; the various paintings of Jesus were hanging sideways leading up to Sister Abigail’s quarters where Vanessa had been moved, giving further evidence of something sinister residing within the walls of the Convent.

The closer they got to the Mother Superior’s room the colder the temperature became; Attorio surmised it was below freezing by the time they had reached Sister Abigail’s room. There was concern on the faces of the Nuns as they stood, huddled together, whether it was because of the freezing cold or they were just scared, they were all aware that something was terribly wrong with Vanessa, aware that something bad was happening, something their innocent minds couldn’t or wouldn’t comprehend.

Maicon turned to Father Attorio and placed his hand on his shoulder, he guided him just out of earshot of the Nuns but beckoned Sister Abigail to join them, she instantly obliged and he looked them both in the eyes and whispered gently, almost making the situation more foreboding, somehow heightening the extreme danger that was waiting for them.

“My instinct and experience tells me we are dealing with the unholy one. He has many guises such as Beelzebub, Mammon, Lucifer but you can be sure this is Satan himself. Do not be afraid, I know that sounds an extreme request, especially for you Sister but you have to believe in the Almighty and trust in his powers, he will never desert you. As much as I can feel the Devil’s presence in this house I also feel God’s presence”.

Attorio was still feeling a little confused by Maicon’s revelations. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe the words of this stranger, far from it, his words exuded calm and wisdom but surely Maicon’s presence was to determine whether or not an exorcism was actually valid. What was Maicon’s standing within the Vatican? Was it his decision alone that was decisive on this matter? No, there was something else and he couldn’t put his finger on it. This man seemed to have untold inner strength and comfort that consumed the chilly atmosphere that hung heavily around them. His very presence had calmed both himself and the Nuns. Attorio turned to address Sister Abigail and the two younger nuns.

“Sisters, the only action I would like you to take are the reciting of our Lord’s Prayer. Do not waver, regardless of what is happening around you”

The brave nuns nodded at the Priest.

Attorio reached for the door handle and almost recoiled from its touch, it was freezing and his hand almost stuck to the brass handles icy touch. Maicon placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder; Attorio shuddered within himself, was it his imagination? It had to be but there seemed to be an unseen power emanate from Maicon and surge through the Priest’s body warming him almost instantly. For reasons that evaded him, the Priest stayed silent, dismissing the thought as pure coincidence. Attorio turned the door handle and pushed it open, this time without hesitation.

The chilly blast hit them hard as they walked into the room, the Nuns bringing up the rear, their fear evident, the icy blast grew like tentacles covering them from head to toe, the Nuns gasping with the severity of the cold.

Sister Vanessa was lay on her back in the bed opposite, her breathing was very heavy , almost asthmatic , her bed sheets were pulled down to her knees, exposing her body to the freezing temperature. Attorio quickly realised her plight and whispered urgently to the Sisters.

“Quickly Sisters, cover her up and bring more sheets, she must be warmer”

The Nuns quickly obliged and Sister Abigail rummaged in the bed side drawers for more sheets.

Maicon stood at the foot of the bed and stared unmoving at the frail nun, for a moment silence reigned within the room, broken only by Vanessa’s heavy, laboured breathing. Attorio placed his bag on the bedside table and removed the contents, placing them carefully in order of which he would require. Preoccupied with his own task he had not noticed Vanessa’s eyes snap open. Maicon, however, did notice; he said nothing, waiting for events to play themselves out.

Vanessa’s head rolled to her left hand side and stared directly at the Priest. The familiar, deep, raspy, guttural voice came from within Nun, snapping the Priests focus immediately to her attention.

“TELL ME, WHAT HAVE YOU GOT THERE PRIEST?”

Attorio quickly recovered his composure and turned back to his task.

“HEY CUNT, I’M TALKING TO YOU!” the voice within Vanessa screamed at Attorio.

The Priest stood tall and said in a stern and commanding voice.

“SILENCE.”

Attorio picked up the tap water, unscrewed the cap and flicked the liquid at the now intimidating Nun. A hoarse, throaty chuckle sounded from the nun and the now familiar deep voice spat at him.

“IS THAT PISS WATER PRIEST?”

Attorio glanced at the Nuns and nodded at them; they began their recital of the Lord’s Prayer, much to the discomfort of the evil spirit that dwelt within Vanessa.

“SHUT THE FUCK UP YOU WHORES!” the gruff voice screamed at the nuns, the atmosphere now extremely charged within the room.

It had begun.

Maicon stood motionless at the foot of the bed, his eyes never once leaving the figure of the stricken Nun.

Attorio placed his hand on the forehead of Vanessa, whose head had started to roll from side to side, her tongue flicking out in an almost childlike manner. In his other hand he held the bottle of Holy Water.

Attorio began the ritual.
“In nomine patris, et filii, et spiritus sancti” (In the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Spirit)

He then released a few drops of the Holy Water, in the sign of the cross, onto Sister Vanessa. An ear splitting anguished scream rose from the nun; she threw her torso upwards as if an electric current had surged through her frail body, the scream bounced of walls and the only window in Sister Abigail’s room cracked, such was the high pitched intensity of the scream.

” BASTARD FUCKING BASTARD, CUNT PRIEST!” the voice within Vanessa screamed at Attorio.

The Priest placed his hand on the square of Vanessa’s chest and pushed her back down on to the bed. Attorio began to recite the deprecatory prayer from memory.

“God, creator and defender of the human race, look down on this your servant, whom you formed in your own image and now call to be a partaker in your glory” he went on commandingly in Latin.

Whatever was within the Nun was beginning to build up strength and Attorio was beginning to feel the strain of the body his hand was forcefully holding down.

“DO YOU THINK YOUR PATHETIC WORDS WILL WORK ON ME? DO YOU KNOW WHO I AM?” the voice raged at the Priest.

In the background the Nuns continued to repeat the Lord’s Prayer in a fast regimental manner.

“SHUT UP WHORES!” it screamed again at the Sisters.

Whatever was inside Sister Vanessa lashed out, the Nun’s arm catching Attorio in the face with the force of a baseball bat, the Priest sank to his knees, mentally and physically stunned by the power. The Nuns upper torso, again hurled itself into an upright position, the aberration that dwelt with in Sister Vanessa found itself staring directly into the eyes of Maicon. Attorio was quickly up from his knees and was astounded to hear the deep guttural scream almost as if in recognition of Maicon.

“YOU? WHAT ARE YOU DOING HERE?”

Attorio stared in amazement at Maicon. Demons or Devils reportedly, never recognised any one individual, even if their paths had crossed at any previous exorcisms, Sister Vanessa’s head turned back to Attorio, the face contorted with vile hatred.

“WHAT’S THIS COCKSUCKER DOING HERE?” it demanded.

Attorio recognised the sinister change in the Demon’s voice and acted accordingly. He sprinkled holy water (again in the sign of the crucifix) onto Sister Vanessa’s body, the Nun now started thrash violently from side to side, hurling obscenities at the Priest. The vile, foul breath was making the Priest retch.

“Christhe imperat Vobis “(Christ commands you) came the command from Attorio as he made the sign of the cross on Vanessa’s now semi scarred forehead.

“Christhe imperat Vobis” Attorio repeated again and again.

Suddenly the screaming and convulsing stopped as quickly as it had started. An uneasy silence fell around the room, Attorio and the Nuns collectively breathed a sigh of relief, the Priest turned around to look at Maicon, who remained unmoved, he had not uttered word. Sister Vanessa seemed to have fallen into an uneasy sleep her breathing seemed a little more natural.

“I think we can take a little break” Attorio said quietly.

There were looks of relief on the Nuns faces, the whole event had left them drained and scared and Attorio had a few questions that he wanted to ask Maicon.

Attorio sat opposite Maicon in the corridors just outside Sister Abigail’s quarters. They had not spoken since halting the exorcism. Sister Abigail was busying herself with cups of tea for the pair of them (although Attorio would of preferred something a little stronger) the Nuns remained vigilant at Vanessa’s bedside, who, for the moment, seemed to still be sleeping peacefully.

Maicon stared at the Priest’s, bowed head. He was fully aware of the questions that Attorio wanted to ask him, Maicon himself would want the answers to the questions that were running around Attorio’s head and he couldn’t blame him. Maicon hadn’t often subjected himself to this kind of scrutiny in the past. His presence had only been witnessed on the rare occasion the Devil himself had a genuine chance of gaining a foothold in this world, and that had only happened once before. His presence had been vital then as well but the Priest he had helped had turned aggressive and accused him of witchcraft. Maicon afforded himself a slight smile, his work back then had been done and the accusations from the Priest gave him the perfect excuse to disappear, the truth would have been a little difficult to explain.
He knew Attorio was going to be an entirely different matter all together. The Priest was certainly no fool, he sensed that, and he was fully aware of Attorio’s suspicion. He knew Attorio was a devout Catholic of that he was in no doubt but he also knew he was a realist as well as a clergyman. Would he simply accept the explanation of divine intervention, he doubted it, he would want proof, of that he was certain.

He knew he had a decision to make but now was neither the time nor the place. Although he had only just met Attorio, he was convinced the Priest would only have the wellbeing of Sister Vanessa at heart, putting to one side any doubt that lingered inside Attorio’s head. He would take the Priest into his confidence (he didn’t feel like he had any choice). Despite the doubt that Attorio had, Maicon also sensed there was a deep underlying trust within Attorio and he knew that was a commodity he could nurture. Besides, Maicon realised that the Priest may just have an important role to play.

Two hours later Attorio was again sat with his head in his hands. His body was mentally and physically exhausted. He had been conducting the exorcism both professionally and to the letter but he was yielding no results. A tear started to creep slowly down his face; he knew the Nun was close to death, he knew her very frail body wouldn’t be able to take much more, not without killing her. Attorio felt helpless and he knew he was failing Sister Vanessa. Whatever possessed the stricken Nun (the demon had still not revealed itself) it was not willing to let the poor soul go. Logic told the Priest that its reluctance to release it’s hold on to the Nun was eventually going to kill the her and he felt there was nothing more he could do. He wasn’t left with many choices. In fact there weren’t any, how could he help her? Was his power no longer there? Was his faith deserting him in his gravest hour? Did the ritual actually have any kind of effect on the demon that was inside the frail Nun? Were the exorcisms he had conducted in the past actually real? All these questions were running through his mind at precisely the time he didn’t need them to be.

He had summoned another Doctor to examine her and the news was grave to say the least. Her heartbeat had slowed down dramatically and the Doctor was not very hopeful of Sister Vanessa’s survival, in fact the doctor suggested that Attorio; in any other situation, would be administrating the last rites to the now, deeply, frail Nun. If it existed, the Priest needed divine inspiration and he needed it now.

He had expressed his fears to Maicon who had listened intently and nodded where he thought appropriate. Attorio felt like a failure in the eyes of God. This had never happened before, he had always been successful. His first face off with Satan (if indeed it was Satan) had failed.

He began to pray along with the nuns to God, his own prayer was for forgiveness, he had not noticed that Maicon had slipped quietly into Vanessa’s room.

Ten minutes later Attorio re-entered the room to find Maicon at his usual post, at the foot of Sister Vanessa’s bed. Attorio paused, there seemed something different about the atmosphere within the room; the first thing that was noticeable was the temperature had definitely risen. He looked across at the Nun and his eyes widened once more, he turned to stare at Maicon who, whether it was purposeful or not, avoided eye contact with the Priest. He looked back at Sister Vanessa and walked over to her bedside. Sadness spread across the face of the Attorio. She was sleeping but it was the manner of the sleep that intrigued Attorio; it was peaceful, almost as if the Lord himself had visited her, wiped her feverish brow and banished whatever evil force had possessed her.

The Devil or Demon had gone! The priest stared incredulously at Maicon, who nodded reassuringly back at Attorio. Maicon walked from the room with one last parting look at the sweet Nun. A tear once again, rolled down Attorio’s face, he sensed almost a heavenly aura around Sister Vanessa, and peacefulness had taken over her body. Sadly, he also sensed that within hours, maybe less, Sister Vanessa would have joined the Almighty.

The Priest administered the last rites.