Crucifix: A Supernatural Action Adventure Opera (Damian’s Chronicles Book 1)

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Crucifix: A Supernatural Action Adventure Opera (Damian’s Chronicles Book 1) Page 6

by Michael Todd


  After the two men stepped into the room, the door shut violently behind them. Max looked back at it, then to each side, not really sure where to go at that point. A large encyclopedia rushed toward his head, and he ducked, hearing it slam into the wall behind him. Slowly, he stood and flashed his mentor a fearful gaze. “This is a bit more than I imagined. I think I just pissed my pants.”

  Damian put both his hands on Max’s shoulders. “This is what it’s all about, Max. You are in the center of it, and you will learn that panic doesn’t do anything but make it worse. Take a deep breath in and let it out slowly and know that we are almost there. We’ve found the heart.”

  He did as he was told, sucking air in quickly through his nose and letting it calmly out of his mouth. Then, he turned back to the room and narrowed his eyes, yelling over the sound of the wind. “Why is this considered the heart of the hotel?”

  Damian pressed his lips together, finding his words. “Think of it this way: everything in life has a center point—a point in which it can be traced back to its own creation. Every haunted place has one room or one area where the power of the demon or poltergeist centers. It is where the veil is thin enough, where they can draw the most power from, whether because of tragedy or because it is being fed to them. Usually, in a place like this, it has something to do with a tragic event that happened here.”

  Max understood. “Do the notes say anything about a tragic event here?”

  He was already flipping through the notes on his phone. “Yes, and not too long ago, actually. This place had already closed down. There was a cult following that came here to give sacrifice to Lucifer himself. Many cultists follow a lesser demon like Moloch or T’Chezz because they are more likely to come when called or summoned. It takes a very specific sacrifice to get the Demon King’s attention. In this case, it was a young woman, barely twenty and a virgin. She was strung up in the center of this room, and during the course of the sacrifice, her soul was taken to hell to be presented to Lucifer. She died a terrible death here, only to go on to an afterlife she did not deserve.”

  Max was taken aback, partly with fear, but mostly with grief. “Jesus. Did they find those who did it to her?”

  Damian flipped to the next screen. “According to the notes, when her soul was taken she raged against them, spilling their blood all over the windows.”

  “Well, that explains the beautiful window treatments around the room.” The trainee glanced up at the blood still flowing over the glass.

  Damian shoved his phone back into his pocket and pulled out his large cross. “All we can do now is exorcise this place and hope that she finds peace.”

  Max stared, shocked at the huge cross, and reached his finger out to it. His mentor slapped his hand away. “Trust me. This is special metal, and you don’t want to touch it. I once used this to press through a demon’s skull. You will leave without an arm and in so much pain you can’t see straight.”

  He stuck his hand in his pocket. “Roger that. Don’t touch the cross. Got it.”

  Damian took out his bible and opened it, handing it over to his companion. “This will take a stronger exorcism. Flip the pages as I go and keep an eye out. Things will start to shift as the power of Christ enters the space. The poltergeist will lash out, so be ready.”

  Max took the bible. “Okay. I got this.”

  He gave him a calming smile and lifted the cross high. “Oratio ad S. Michaelem Archangelum in nomine Patris, et Filii, et Spiritus Sancti. Amen.”

  The deep-rooted laugh began to waver, and the winds blew up even more strongly. Damian held tightly to a large dresser still in the room. “I have to finish the whole thing. Hold on!”

  Max nodded, keeping the bible open. “Just don’t take your time, okay?”

  Damian continued to recite in Latin. “In nomine Iesu Christi, Dei ac Domini nostri, virtute corroborari per intercessionem immaculatae Virginis Mariae, Genitricis Dei et beati Michaelis Archangeli, cum beatis Apostolis tuis Petro et Paulo, et omnibus Sanctis. sacri ministerii nostri auctoritate potens fidenter impetus propulsare moliuntur insidias diaboli. Deus est; Inimicos eius dispersa sunt, et eos qui oderunt eum a facie ejus. Pellitur fumus, ita deiectus sicut cera coram igne liquescit sic pereant peccatores a facie Dei.”

  A loud crash drew their attention to the center of the room, where light flickered wildly. Apparitions surged through the light, flooding the room. Their faces were angry and twisted, and their groans and howls were louder than even the wind. They put their hands out, grabbing for Max, but he dug his heels into the floor.

  Damian looked at him, concerned. “Are you all right?”

  The trainee waved his hand. “Yes. Just continue. I’ll fight them off.”

  He agreed and opened his mouth to continue just as a mirror flew at their heads. Max lunged forward and tackled his mentor to the floor. The mirror flew past them and shattered loudly on the floor. Damian grabbed the cross and the bible, pulling Max up next to him. “We have to go on!”

  The young man stood, his shoes crunching in the broken glass. He took the bible and opened it, swatting at the apparitions trying to pull him toward the center of the room.

  Damian shook his head, getting his focus back.

  “Deo caeli Deum de terra, Deus In paradisum deducant Deus Archangelorum, Dei, Filii Dei nutricie, Deus Prophetarum, Deus Apostolorum, Deus Martyrum, Deus Confessorum, Deus Virginum, Qui habet virtutem dare vitam post mortem, et post quietem opus: quia non est alius Deus præter te, nec esse potest, aliud, tu es enim creator est omnium rerum, visibilia, et invisibilia, cujus regni non erit finis ut humiIiter majestati gloriæ tuæ et libera nos, quaesumus, largitor a tua virtute Ab insidiis infernalium spirituum ex insidias, et incolumes custodire digneris.

  Retribuere, dignare, Domine, ut det nobis omnipotens tuum praesidium et custodiat incolumes.Quaesumus, per Jesum Christum Dominum nostrum… Amen.”

  As he said the last words of the exorcism, the poltergeist appeared, hanging in mid-air in the center of the room. She writhed and scratched, screaming in anger and pain. Damian’s eyes grew wide, and he leapt forward, taking Max down to the floor and laying his body over the top of him. The poltergeist screamed, and light reflected in all directions before exploding into a spray of goo.

  Both priests lay huddled on the floor for several moments. When the wind died down and the debris stopped, Damian pulled back, looking down at the younger man. Max lifted his hand in front of his face and watched the green goo drip between his fingers. Damian wiped it from his face and flicked his hand, splattering the remnants of the poltergeist against the wall.

  Max looked shocked, not that Damian blamed him. He patted him on the shoulder and glanced at the crucifix no longer on fire. He turned and walked from the room. “Good job, kid. Let’s get out of here.”

  Damian opened the side door of the SUV and dropped his bible inside. He pulled his guns from the holsters and removed the magazines, sliding the safety back on. He smiled, thinking about the first exorcism he had been to. This definitely hadn’t been as messy as that one.

  He grabbed two towels, using one to wipe the rest of the goo from his face, hair, and hands and saving the other for Max. Damian nodded his head at his cross in respect as he slid it back into his leather pocket inside his coat. He removed his gloves and shoved them in his pockets.

  “I think that went really well,” he said. He figured Max was behind him, waiting for a towel. “The poltergeist is gone, the mess will take care of itself, and the church can get back to work on the building. Not too bad for a—”

  Damian turned around, but Max wasn’t behind him. He closed the SUV doors and glanced up at the hotel where the young priest sat on the steps with his head in his hands. He nodded to himself and started across the gravel parking lot. The kid had just witnessed something completely badass, but at the same time, it was a first for him.

  He sat down beside him on the step and bumped him with his shoulder, handing him the towel. The trainee looked up and no
dded, wiping his face and hair. “Thanks.”

  Damian watched his gaze roaming back and forth, trying to figure out the answers. “You all right? You did really well in there for your first time.”

  The young priest smiled and shook his head. “I’m not freaked out so much as blown away. They teach you all this stuff before you are turned over to your mentor, but it’s all separate and in small doses. When you combine it all together—the blood, the wind, and the fire—it becomes a little overwhelming for my human brain.”

  “I can understand that. I still remember how I felt during my first one. Believe it or not, during my first incursion, the priest got stabbed in the neck.” Damian tried not to laugh.

  Max pointed his finger. “Father Atlantis?”

  He chuckled. “That’s him. He was all right in the end but talk about a terrified as hell priest. That was me. I thought long and hard after that exorcism about whether I was made to continue with these things. Now, of course, it all seems small considering what I have seen with the incursions and such. The first exorcism I ever took Katie to was one for the books. By the end of it, she had battled a twelve-foot demon to the death while I hid behind an old smelly couch. The demons had infected our friends, the ones who told us about the house, and then tried to kill Katie and me. She was a badass, though.”

  Max snorted. “How hard would it be to be a badass with a strong-ass demon and angel abilities?”

  Damian was honestly surprised he knew about that. “Well, she had her ups and downs too, just like the rest of us. She had once been just a young girl, going to college, hanging out with friends and planning her future. Believe it or not, when I met Katie, she was shy and quiet. Demons and this world change people. The thing to remember is the spirits, demons, or whatever are trying to scare you with theatrics and over-dramatization because they aren’t powerful enough to simply go after you. I’m not saying those things aren’t dangerous—the painting showed you that—but it’s mind over matter. I saw you do it inside there. You must merely have more confidence in yourself. When you can conquer the things that scare you and move past them while keeping your end goal in sight, that’s when you are ready to tackle these things on your own. Sometimes, still not on your own. I have been in many circumstances where having a partner or friend to help was what ultimately saved my life.”

  Max smirked, looking a little less stressed. “Thanks, Damian.”

  He stood and headed down the steps. “Come on, let’s load up. I’ll take you somewhere to relax.”

  His companion grunted his way to his feet and flung a glob of goo off his arm and hands, then wiped them on the towel. He shook his head and groaned loudly. “And I thought this would be the best idea ever. Become a Damned and make the most out of it. Serve the masses by using my gifts and my curse to the best of my ability. Sure, I’ll sign up with the church, give my life to God, serve him in all possible ways. Nobody said anything about fucking exploding poltergeists. Somebody should tell you about the weird shit that goes on in the church before you sign up.”

  Max flung open the SUV door, and heard Damian saying from the front seat, “Language!”

  Chapter Seven

  A low rumble of voices echoed around the darkened pub in London. The tables were sticky, the walls were covered in old newspaper clippings, and the floors looked like they hadn’t been polished in about a decade. Max kept his hands in his lap, his white shirt stained with green globs of goo from the exorcism. He had taken his tie off and shoved it in his pocket, the color having changed from light to dark.

  Old black-iron chandeliers hung throughout the pub but not in a stylish goth sort of way. More of a “this bar has been around since the medieval period” way. Brand-new flat screens hung behind the bar and a relatively new pool table stood in the back, but neither interested him very much.

  Max peeled the plastic-covered menu from the table and turned it back and forth. He lifted his eyes to his companion, who was flipping through his phone, and put the menu down.

  As he opened his mouth, the waitress walked by. “Hey, Damian,” she said. “I’ll be with you in just a couple.”

  The priest waved his hand. “No rush. We’ll be here.”

  Max narrowed his eyes and leaned forward to whisper. He didn’t want to piss off any of the lowbrow, bearded men two tables over. “Uh, Damian?”

  His mentor clicked a couple of buttons on his phone and stuck it back in his pocket. “Yeah. What’s up?”

  His eyes shifted back and forth as a couple of middle-aged women decked out in club outfits walked past giggling. “Why in the world would you come to a place like this, much less frequent it? I thought this was frowned upon.”

  Damian sat up and put his hands together, resting them on the table. “Everything is frowned upon in the church, Max. It’s the rules you pay close attention to. They don’t even like you drinking coffee, though I haven’t met a soul in the church yet who will come down on you for it. As for this place? I guess I feel comfortable here.”

  Max looked around at two guys pushing each other. “You feel comfortable here?”

  He shrugged. “When I was with the mercs, I also preached at Sunday services in Vegas. I started going to places like this to make friends, contacts, and to help bring them to the church on Sundays. There isn’t much better than a sad drunk who knows I’m looking at him through God’s eyes. You can bet he shows up at church, if for no other reason than to not have to look away the next time I walked into his bar. I guess I got so used to the environment and the regular everyday people that it started to feel like home to me. As a merc, I didn’t have a home except for the base, and the smell of stale beer and the loud talking turned into a comfort. The church never questioned it because I brought people to God through it.”

  Max wrinkled his forehead. “I still don’t completely get it, considering I’m terrified I’m going to catch a disease from the floors, but how did you end up in this one? You aren’t in Vegas anymore.”

  Damian smiled. “Maps brought me here. The girl I told you about—I call her Maps—figured I would like the place and it would give me plenty of searching souls to steal back to the church. She isn’t a believer in anything really, but she finds it nice to see people like us taking care of others.”

  Max leaned back again. “Okay. Whatever makes you happy, I guess. Though I don’t understand how demons—and now angels—are running around on our planet and people still don’t believe.”

  “In this day and age, it will take a monumental move by God himself—and even then, you will still find those who lag behind. It’s the nature of religion and faith.” Damian sat up as the waitress approached the table.

  “Damian, it’s good to see you,” she said, pulling out her writing pad. “You haven’t been in for a while.”

  He sighed. “I’ve had some serious research to get done, so I’ve been stuck in the library at my house.”

  She glanced at Max and back at him. “Well, we missed you. What can I get for you?”

  He nodded in the young priest’s direction, who picked the menu up and wrinkled his nose. “I’ll take a coffee, cream and sugar, please.”

  Damian raised his eyebrow at Max. “And I’ll take two fingers of whiskey and two shots of vodka, your top shelf please.”

  The waitress wrote down the order and smiled. “I’ll be right back.”

  He gave her a kind grin, then looked at his companion. He had taken a napkin and dipped it in his water, and now rubbed feverishly at the green stains on his shirt. Damian could tell his exasperation had nothing to do with the stain and everything to do with what he just went through. Just like him, Max was excellent at projecting his stress onto other things when he didn’t want to be seen as weak.

  The woman returned and set the drinks on the table. Max gave her a smile and took a sip of his coffee. Damian waited for him to say something, but it was obvious he was caught up in his own thoughts. “The exorcism was definitely an interesting one this time around. I ha
ve seen and been part of ones that were much worse than that, but it was still pretty intense.”

  Max swallowed the hot drink. “So, you’re saying that one day, I’ll look back and think about this exorcism as something not bad at all?”

  Damian tilted his head to the side. “Maybe. Hopefully not. That would mean things were getting rough out there. I don’t have any worries that you won’t succeed at this job, though. Besides almost getting your finger chomped off by a demon, I’d say you did a decent job. I’m glad that you were there with me.”

  His trainee looked surprised. “All I did was follow you around and try to touch things I wasn’t supposed to. I don’t feel like I did anything except distract you.”

  He chuckled. “I’m your mentor. It’s your job to distract me. They wouldn’t have me teach if they thought I couldn’t handle the distractions. Sometimes, the best training you can have is simply watching. That is how I was trained in the beginning as a mercenary, and that is exactly how I trained Katie when she first came on the team.”

  Damian pushed the shots around and picked up his whiskey, taking a sip. When he looked back at Max, the trainee’s eyes were wide, and his mouth hung open. He lifted his eyebrows. “Maximus…are you okay?”

  Max shook his head. “It’s Max, and you trained Katie? Is that what you just said to me?”

  “Someone had to train her. She wasn’t born Damned. Like I told you, there was a point when she was only a young college student, playing volleyball and dreaming about her future.”

  The young man put his cup of coffee down. “I want to make sure I’m getting this straight. You trained Katie—as in Katie from Katie’s Killers? Not some random Katie, but the most badass mercenary on the planet?”

  Damian smirked and picked up a shot, setting it down in front of Max. “Here, drink that. It’ll calm your nerves.”

  Without even looking, he grabbed the shot and tossed it back. It wasn’t until the vodka hit the back of his throat that he realized what he was drinking. He grimaced and coughed. Damian laughed and pushed his coffee closer to him. “Take a drink of this. It’ll get rid of the taste.”

 

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