"You have a one tracked mind. But that's not the reason I'm going. I'm actually interested in the ceremony, the rituals. Olivia says that they've been attempting to invoke Beelzebub. She seems to take it seriously. She's part of a small group. From what she says they all seem to take it seriously. It's hard to imagine really." Robert looked at him coldly
"So, basically, you're studying them?" Jarrod replied
"Yes, I am. Just like when I went to all those Anglican and Catholic masses last year. Same thing. Field observation of primitive subcultures." Robert shook his head
"That's a bit harsh. What about Olivia?" Jarrod asked
"What about her, what do you mean?" Robert persisted
"Well, she asked you, didn’t she? Is she interested in you?" Jarrod looked back blankly
"Could be, I don’t know.” He sighed. “But do you think I could ever have any kind of relationship with someone stupid enough to believe in all that crap?" Robert stared back at him, he was sick to death of Jarrod's excuses.
"For god's sake - just fuck her a few times. You might even like it." Jarrod replied sarcastically
"You're the expert."
They stood there for a minute or so - a kind of standoff. Then Robert raised the newspaper in his hand.
"I came to show you this." Jarrod scoffed
"Who still reads newspapers?" Robert replied tautly
"I do. I get it at the corner shop on the way in each morning. Will you just fucking listen? This is serious! " Jarrod nodded
"OK, what?" Robert spoke slowly
"It mentions the ongoing investigation into the death of Dr Caroline Lerner. Apparently she was found murdered in her apartment, nearly six months ago. Someone cut her throat. They still don’t know who did it.” Jarrod was surprised to hear this, he asked
“When was that?” Robert answered carefully
“She was found on Friday morning, January twenty third.” Jarrod caught his breathe
“But wasn’t that ..?” Robert nodded
"Yes. We had dinner with her at the Golden Cat on the Thursday night, the twenty second. You walked her to her car. I'm going to have to call the police - they're asking for information. It’s strange that Wendy didn’t know about it. She would have said. Strange the police haven’t called us yet. We had a booking at the Restaurant. A lot of people saw us all there together. We might have been the last ones to see her alive. In view of, well, you know, what happened to you in Knightsbridge I'm sure they'll want to talk to you too." Jarrod smiled glumly
"Of course they will." Robert looked at him mockingly
“I’m surprised that Detective Chief Inspector Boone hasn’t been snooping around already.” Jarrod grimaced
“No. He’s retired now. Forced retirement. Years ago.” Robert looked at him evenly
“Well, that was inevitable.” He wasn’t going to ask Jarrod how he knew about Boone. He looked at him with mock seriousness.
"Maybe you don’t want to be seen at a black mass right now.” He paused. “You didn’t actually kill her did you?" Jarrod responded
"Don't be ridiculous." Now it was Robert's turn to be sarcastic.
"Are you sure? You could be some kind of deranged serial killer, a full blown psychotic? Completely off your nut! Wouldn’t even know it." Jarrod looked at him disdainfully and then replied sharply
"Fuck off". He turned around and went back into his office, slamming the door behind him.
He met Olivia later that night at Faringdon station. She was wearing a long black dress. Jarrod couldn’t fail to notice that she really was quite attractive. They walked together to an old church several blocks away. Olivia looked at him carefully
"So do you really believe in this, or is it just curiosity?" Jarrod replied simply
"I'm keeping an open mind." Olivia shrugged
"I think you're too analytical to really get it." Jarrod smiled.
"Why did you ask me then?" Olivia looked at him a little strangely
"I saw you here with us in a dream - a very vivid one. We've been performing the invocation for a few months now. In my dream you were here when we finally succeeded. We take that sort of thing seriously. I discussed it with some of the others. And, here you are." This surprised Jarrod, he replied simply
"Oh! That's good. I was worried I might be the sacrifice." Olivia smiled back.
“We don’t do that.” Jarrod replied
”Good to know.” Olivia took him by the hand and led him into the church nodding to several people they passed. They weren't surprised to see Jarrod with her - clearly they had all been told about him. McDowell wouldn’t have been allowed in. Jarrod thought about Olivia. She really was quite delightful in her own dark and quiet way. He could feel her presence beside him. A few times she pushed up against him and he felt her hips pressing into him. He had a sudden image of being in bed with her back at his apartment. They were both naked. Oh yes! That wouldn’t be too bad. Possibly quite delightful even!
They were inside the Church now. It had been emptied of seats and furniture and seemed quite large. There was some kind of table set up at the front. Clearly this was to be the altar. The walls were bare - all pictures removed. Several dozen people were milling about - they all seemed to know each other. Jarrod looked about trying not to allow his unbounded curiosity to be too blatantly obvious. Olivia introduced him to a few of the others. They were all reasonably pleasant and well dressed. They could be teachers, doctors, accountants, lawyers – anyone. It all seemed so ordinary - it could have been just another get together after work or an ordinary church meeting. But looking a little closer Jarrod could see something in their expressions and in their eyes that was different and quite uncommon - a deep longing for something more than the ordinary, a hunger, and a willingness to do whatever it took to put it into effect, a craving to transcend the mundane everyday world along with a casual indifference to the timid conventions and limitations of the unthinking herd. He could appreciate that. It occurred to him that in a way they were his kind of people, however misguided. What a pity it was all based on such utter nonsense.
From the front of the church someone called for silence. He was dressed as a priest. He looked very old but his eyes were shining brightly. He called out
"Let us begin." All conversation stopped and everyone turned towards the priest - giving him their full attention. Jarrod felt Olivia let go of his hand. He glanced at her and at some of the others. They were all staring straight ahead. The priest's voice rang out over the church
"We are here to invoke the mighty Beelzebub." The congregation responded with one voice
"Hail Beelzebub." Jarrod knew immediately that something strange was going on. It was as if they were all slipping into some kind of hypnotic trance. No one was moving at all, their faces were blank, their eyes glazed over. The priest intoned
"We call thee forth Lord Beelzebub, Prince of darkness, Master of Evil, Lord of Lies, Harbinger of death. Come to thy servants. We beg of thee. Come forth. We long for your presence. We worship you. We devote ourselves to your service." The congregation responded again
"Hail Beelzebub." The priest then started chanting the single word 'Beelzebub' over and over again. They all joined in so that now everyone in the Church was chanting
"Beelzebub, Beelzebub, Beelzebub." Everyone that is except Jarrod. He looked at them with astonishment - their blank empty faces, their fixation on the priest. Clearly this was something they'd built up to over quite some time. Even Olivia, standing beside him, was lost in it all. This was very weird. It felt like some kind of dream - a very odd dream, uncertain, vaguely threatening. He was still looking around at the others in the room trying to make sense of what he was seeing when suddenly with a roar of sound and a burst of bright light a large demon appeared at the front of the church. It was tall, large - thick grey skin, horns, fiery red eyes, a short tail. A demon! Jarrod felt his jaw drop, he could only exclaim
"Sweet Holy Fuck!"
The demon wasn’t w
asting any time. He strode into the congregation - brushing the old priest aside. He grabbed one of the young women and one of the young men and took them back to the altar. They didn’t resist. No one resisted. No one reacted in any way. They were all too stunned. He took them around to the far side of the altar and then bent them down over it. He wanted to watch everyone else in the room while he fucked them. He wanted the rest of them to see him enjoying his triumph. He wanted to savour their reactions while deciding who was next. He ripped away the clothing of the first two victims. Nice soft white plump asses. Male, female - made no difference to him. He mounted the first one, thrusting into him. His victim actually squealed. The demon found this deliciously exquisite and continued thrusting. He remembered a fragment of some human song he'd heard
"If you dance with the devil baby." He was very pleased with himself. With a bit of luck he'd get through half a dozen or more before being pulled back down. The other members of the congregation watched on with horror. Jarrod could see that they were still in some kind of trance and seemed unable to do anything but watch. Olivia was the same as all the others. He didn’t feel any of it himself. But he didn’t know what to do. He stared at the demon – immensely puzzled. There was some kind of strange mix up of identity going on here but he couldn’t fathom it.
The demon was Raum, a minor functionary from the Department of Envy. When Satanist groups try to invoke Lucifer or Beelzebub they almost invariably get some lesser demon masquerading as one of their masters. Raum had been listening to this group for months waiting for just the right pattern of correspondences and coincidences. Their state of mind had to be just right. Then tonight, something strange – the door was suddenly wide open. To spend some time amongst the living, even just a few hours, was a rare enough treat. There were plenty of slaves in Hell, but it was so much better fucking them while they were still alive. He was doing the first of the women now – thrusting away vigorously, thoroughly enjoying himself, thoroughly enjoying a great sense of power and dominance. He cast his gaze over the congregation, enjoying also his absolute mastery of them, soaking in their craven obeisance. Then his eyes met Jarrod's. He stopped abruptly. He froze for a few moments then he let out a loud piercing shriek, managing only to say one word clearly
"Master!" He stumbled back from the altar - eyes wide with absolute terror. He shrieked again and then vanished as suddenly as he'd arrived.
The congregation, breaking out of their trance, picked up on his terror - magnifying it further, if that was even possible. They became a panicked mob and made for the exit en masse pushing and screaming. Raum's immediate victims stumbled away from the altar - pulling up what was left of their clothing as best they could and ran out with the rest. Jarrod was barely able to keep standing and lost contact with Olivia. In just seconds he was left alone in the church. He looked about, shaking his head - well this was certainly one for the books. No-one would believe him though. He pictured himself trying to tell McDowell. Yeah sure, that was going to work. He could barely begin to make sense of what his own role in all of this had been. But the demon had looked straight into his eyes - there was no doubt of that - and had seen something that terrified him. He walked outside still feeling quite calm – completely detached. There was no-one there. They'd run off in all directions. Well, he would see Olivia at the University sooner or later. Until then there was not much he could do. He started walking back to the station pulling his coat tightly around him, feeling very cold. A demon! In Faringdon! It was too much. His basic instinct was to get away – try to forget it ever happened.
He used his card going through the turnstile and proceeded along the corridor towards platform three. This late in the evening no one else was around - the corridor seemed to be empty. He was in a strange mood. He was trying not to think about the events at the church, blocking it out - not yet, plenty of time for that later. It was just too big. The implications were staggering. Instead he found himself obsessing on something Olivia had said earlier - that he was too analytical. He hated it when they used that particular move - so simplistic, so dishonest, so self serving. It would have been nice to go home with her. She had a nice body. Too analytical! Wouldn’t get it! As if for a moment her tiny little mind could possibly grasp what he did or didn’t get. They were all so fucking stupid when it came down to it. So limited! He kept repeating the line, parsing out the implications - when someone suddenly stepped in front of him and snarled
"Hey! Asshole!" Jarrod stopped and looked up. A tall and very large man was standing there; he had a flat weather beaten face, short black hair, piercing blue eyes, ragged clothes, brown and dirty. He was holding a large knife and staring at Jarrod. He looked extremely angry and agitated. Jarrod smiled, thinking that he was not as angry and agitated as he would have been if he'd just been back at the church getting fucked up the ass by a demon from Hell. Well possibly not - hard to tell with some people. Jarrod just laughed at him – he felt invincible. What a joke! His assailant snarled back at him
“Don’t laugh at me, I’ll fucking kill you. Hand over your wallet!" Jarrod didn’t move. He had no intention of handing it over, but he wasn't going to fight him either. He didn’t feel any fear, just amusement. Still, it wasn't clear to him just what his options were. He had to do something. His assailant lost what little patience he had and made a move towards Jarrod. Suddenly there was another man standing behind the mugger. The third man grabbed a fist full of hair and pulled back the mugger’s head exposing his throat. Then in one swift perfect move he pulled out a large knife with his other hand, made a broad slicing move with it and cut the would be mugger’s throat. Jarrod blinked. His assailant’s dead body fell to the ground before him. He was quite obviously dead or dying - with blood gushing from his throat. The third man looked at Jarrod evenly. He motioned with his eyes to a spot on the far wall where the CCTV was located. He quite clearly meant
'They'll know it wasn't you'. He nodded then turned around and walked off. Jarrod watched him go, exclaiming out loud
“What the fuck?” Around the corner out of sight of Jarrod and of any other surveillance cameras he shrank in size and reverted back to his normal form. It was the gnome. The gnome then walked towards the nearest wall and disappeared into it. He was grinning from ear to ear, quietly singing
"Hey Ho, Hey Ho, it's off to work we go." He was not supposed to intervene unless it was absolutely necessary - and he did just so thoroughly enjoy 'intervening'.
Jarrod stood there waiting for the police to arrive. He could hear some commotion from further off. Someone was reacting. What a day! Caroline Lerner dead, a Black Mass, a fucking demon, and then a mugger killed in front of his eyes. Now, no doubt, he would be interrogated for hours on end by feeble minded detectives in love with their own self-delusion of toughness – though none of course would be so overbearing or unendurable as DCI Boone. He could hardly wait for the trip to Amsterdam - weekend after next. Strange things were happening all around him. The pace seemed to be quickening. Not for the first time he asked himself
"What the fuck is going on?"
Chapter 13 – Sloth and Gluttony
Early the next morning Jarrod and Cassandra approached the entrance to the Department of Sloth, quietly hoping that a solution was finally at hand. Something had to go right. The thought of staying in this abysmal place for even another day, let alone forever, was just too depressing. Lord Paimon, who ran the department, had one of the compass devices and according to Asmodeous would be happy to give it to them. It occurred to Jarrod that either Asmodeous or Paimon or both of them simply wanted to get rid of him. Maybe take over his department. He would have to check with Abaddon – but then he could be in on it too. Jarrod almost smiled. In Hell it was not possible to be paranoid enough. But Asmodeous did seem perfectly content where he was – if ‘content’ was the right word for it. Maybe it was just to get rid of him - nothing more. The thought of Asmodeous started to make him feel angry and hateful. He knew that Asmodeous hated him back with e
qual intensity.
Cassandra could see him scowling. She held his hand and smiled, encouraging him. She spoke softly
“We’ll be all right.” And maybe they would. She really didn’t know what to think. She knew that she started to shake when she even just thought about the gnomes back in the apartment. She looked about anxiously. How many were there? Where were they? One of the attackers had to be the one who had been shadowing her for her whole life - hopefully the one in the middle whose head had been bashed in by Jarrod. She desperately wanted to know who he was and why he stalked her. Maybe that was just what they did. But she thought that there had to be more to it than that – especially given the incident in the park just before she took the fateful trip to London. Thinking about the gnome, she started to shake again. Jarrod noticed and squeezed her hand, replying quietly
“Of course we will.”
There was a large demon standing in the open doorway – obviously waiting there for them. As they approached he spoke out loudly
“My Lord Beelzebub, welcome, come in, come in.” They followed him inside. They went through a small entrance foyer which opened immediately out onto a large auditorium. The demon was speaking just to him. Like all of he others he was attempting to ignore Cassandra completely.
“I am Nabarus my Lord, Lord Paimon’s chief assistant. Lord Asmodeous told us you were coming. Lord Paimon is not available. But I have the compass device in the main office, ready for you.” Jarrod turned towards him. Had Asmodeous sent a messenger during the night? He asked
“How did you know?” Nabarus answered quickly – almost embarrassed to be saying what he did. He’d heard that Lord Beelzebub was far from himself.
The Department of Hate - A Love Story Page 12