“It’s like...a movie. Sometimes I think it’s happening right away in front of me. I see something happen and then...I sort of ... wake up...and everything is as it was a moment before. And then, sometimes, what I have just seen...begins to happen. Sometimes it’s within minutes and sometimes much later. Like the automobile accident in Montreal. I-I don’t know why but I feel an ominous sense or presence when bad things are going to happen...evil things.” She stopped and wondered if he was about to berate her for believing in magic or witchcraft. Instead he pointed towards a tarnished copper box perched on a two-foot high stone wall nearby. Green swathes of oxidation on it surrendered to polished orange gold metal that glinted in the sunlight
“See that box, Maria?” he asked, looking around to ensure their privacy.
She nodded.
“Tell me...do you believe its contents to be good or evil?”
“What’s in it?”
“You tell me...!”
“But-but as I said, I have no control over what I see.” She shook her head. “Or when I might see something. I can’t tell what is in an unopened box any more than I can tell what’s in your pocket.”
“Try...” he said gently, again pointing towards the box. “I just want to know if it’s good or evil – positive or negative. Can you tell me that?”
Maria approached the wall where the box rested. It was about 18 inches long, eight inches wide and six inches high featuring two ornate locks. It looked very old.
“Can you feel anything from it? Or, sense anything associated with it? Anything?”
Maria shook her head and shrugged. As she tried again to explain that the visions didn’t come because she willed them, she reached out towards the box hoping to feel something so as not to disappoint him. Instead, she felt exactly...nothing.
She had just turned around to tell the cardinal she couldn’t do it when she felt a warm, deep peace flooding her body; she stopped speaking in mid-sentence and turned back towards the box. Despite the warm sun, goose bumps rose on her arms and neck.
Maria began to concentrate on the box. Suddenly she found herself drawn to it. She had taken only two steps forward when she was hit with an overwhelming feeling of suffering, pain, loss and disappointment. She gasped aloud as needles of agony radiated from her wrists down through her fingers and up her arms. Her ankles screamed in aguish and pain shot to her right side; she bent double, struggling to breathe, her heart racing.
Within seconds the sun, the garden and the cardinal vanished before her eyes, and she was only aware of darkness, of a rough hillside covered by stunted bushes, stones, brambles and small olive trees; lightning flashed amongst roiling black clouds and thunder rolled in angry waves over her head. A violent wind whipped about her, sending dust and small pebbles rattling against her shins as it shrieked in protest at what was to be.
A terrible thirst beset her and a putrid stench of human sweat, blood, dust and burning tallow assaulted her nostrils as a drab blackness, and a sense of hopelessness swiftly grew in intensity. It clouded her brain, drained her strength and suffocated her will. She sensed fear, anger and hopelessness, agony and death, but mostly, she sensed revulsion at what was to come. An image of a beautiful, tortured, sensitive man’s face high above her filled her line of sight, while somewhere behind her was the soft weeping of women. Startling, unnaturally pale blue eyes were set in a swarthy countenance but they were dulled by anguish and torment. Dried blood streaked His head and face. Rivulets of fresh sweat ran like miniature rivers towards His chin to lose themselves in His beard. A roughly woven Crown of Thorns rested askew on His brow.
Shadows magnified by flickering torchlight in the now darkened day played across His features throwing His expression of sorrow in deep relief. He desperately looked down from a wooden cross for hope or salvation as wounds from rough spikes driven through His wrists and feet pumped fresh blood from behind crusted scabs at every twitch of pain. Yet she sensed that He knew there would be no salvation. There would only be misery. No last-minute reprieve. Somehow she knew He was destined to die as the sound of wildly chanting crowds assaulted her ears from afar. And, of this she was sure; though He gave of Himself willingly to His destiny, He was afraid.
Within minutes the man on the cross desperately lifted Himself upward against the spikes and the ropes binding His forearms to the cross. Taking a final breath, He cried out in Aramaic. “It is finished.” Strangely she understood the words. He then slumped and Maria knew His life force had departed. The wailing of women behind her increased in intensity. It wasn’t long before the scrabble of sandals on rocks and the metallic clink of a weapon and scabbard heralded a Roman soldier approaching.
A Roman Legionnaire garbed in metal breastplate and leather cingulum suddenly stood before the man and gazed up at Him, half in anger, half in sympathy. Maria knew the hardened soldier felt sadness at what he was seeing, though he habitually felt nothing at executions. Raising his lance, Legionnaire Longinus thrust its head into His right side and blood and water poured forth. The man on the cross didn’t move. Maria cried out in dismay, tears spilling from her eyes in a torrent. The soldier recoiled as a wave of emotion swept through him and she felt his sudden inner torment rebelling against iron-willed discipline and training. She also felt his doubt grow with a swiftness that surprised him.
Why was this one different? Why did he feel such anguish at his deed? The Legionnaire suddenly felt tears sliding down his own face and quickly wiped them away as the tormentor caught the sightless eyes of the tormented. He fell to his knees as lightning split the air again followed by a whipping, crackling sound snaking across the sky and ending in a rumbling explosion of thunder. A burning stench of ozone assaulted his nostrils. The wind grew ever stronger as the soldier became aware of the saltiness of his tears on his lips. He cast his head down, forgetting about the idols and Gods that he now knew were false. Nor did he care what his Centurion or other soldiers in the cohort thought. “My Lord...” he mumbled, in a coarse Latin that she understood perfectly.
Suddenly Maria was flooded by an extraordinary feeling of relief, beauty and incredible, enlightened happiness. The darkness receded like a breaking ocean wave heralding bright sunlight, and with its retreat, she felt her body being purged of all pain, fear, guilt and hate.
More tears flowed as she tried to grasp the beauty and magnitude of a feeling of all-encompassing love, of forgiveness and charity, and of a joy and purity which radiated from the box before her and filled every crevice of her mind and her being.
The box suddenly transformed and became a brilliant light. It kept expanding, getting brighter and brighter, its radiance filling her soul with feelings of redemption and rejuvenation until she thought she would burst. Yet she did not shy away from it; instead she wanted more and found herself seeming to float towards the source, wishing only to be near to it, to have it, to touch and hold it, to know the goodness and light as intimately as humanly possible.
She ached in her heart to possess the holy contents and never, never let them go. Gasping for breath, for a brief instant Maria felt as though she was eternal and finally understood the meaning of true love, oneness with the universe and unconditional surrender to a power greater and purer than anything she had ever experienced.
It was too much....
Her head spun and she dropped to the ground, senseless.
Maria was not even aware that she had passed out until she awakened in bright sunlight with birds singing loudly from the olive trees; she was being cradled unashamedly in the arms of Brother Fagan. He must have remained nearby, she thought.
Cardinal Malachi stood above her, now quite pale and looking terribly concerned until she smiled up at him and gasped: “Y-You’re right...w-we’ve got to stop meeting like this, Your Eminence.”
His face underwent a marvelous transformation, almost beatific, as concern gave way to relief and he smiled the broadest and most open smile anyone could ever hope to receive from another mortal.
“Thank Heaven,” he said. “You’re alright?”
She nodded. Her pounding heart gradually slowed to a normal beat. Fagan wiped perspiration from her forehead and upper lip with a starched white handkerchief.
“Child, tell me about the box?” Cardinal Malachi pressed, gently. He knelt down beside her and stared deep into her eyes. “Do you get a positive or a negative feeling from it? What did you feel?”
“Hurt...despair...and then...l-love,” Maria stammered, desperately holding back tears, barely able to conceptualize the latent feelings pouring into her, or contain her weeping which, much to her chagrin, suddenly began anew. “It was total and unconditional sacrifice and love. I-I sensed...the presence of-of our Lord and Savior – Jesus Christ.” Malachi looked Heavenward and nodded as she continued: “I saw His death...and-and...I knew His triumph!”
Over the next hour she sat with Malachi in the garden and he revealed that the box contained a Holy Relic, a piece of the True Cross on which Christ had died, and which had been brought to Rome in the 4th Century from the Holy Land by Emperor Constantine’s mother, Empress Helena.
“The Wood of the Cross is reputed to have talismanic powers,” he said, looking towards the untouched box still sitting on the stone wall. “What you have felt here this morning can only help confirm once again that this is indeed authentic and will fulfill our hopes.”
“How would it do that, your...?” Maria’s question trailed off and she tried to remain calm as she began to fully realize the enormity of the vision she had experienced minutes before. Had she really seen Christ die? Had she travelled to another dimension where time was fluid or was it a hallucination of sorts? In her heart, she already knew the answer. Malachi was speaking.
“We hope that, by its sacrifice, it will rid the world of a plague.”
Next he bent close and in a voice barely above a whisper, revealed that she would be asked to undertake a mission of grave importance to God and mankind. There would be risk, possible pain and even death. But, he wagered that if she died, she would surely sit with the angels in Heaven. If she lived, whatever path she chose in life thereafter would be blessed by both the Church and Almighty God.
~ 13 ~
It was now more than eleven months since Maria’s last visit and her stunning vision in the garden. Shortly thereafter she had been packed off home with orders to pray, meditate on her faith and reflect on her vision. The mission Malachi had mentioned had still not been revealed to her.
After an exhausting two-day trip back to Rome, she was meeting the cardinal in the Chamber. This time they were alone and she listened in rapt attention as he laid out the history of Adramelech and his mission on earth to turn the righteous from God.
“A-a demon, Your Eminence,” she stammered. “A real demon?” They had resolved the stand-off in the young nun’s discomfort in calling Malachi by name. She was free to address him as she chose.
“As real as you and I, Maria. We believe he’s been here for eons and has been creating unholy and diabolic mischief for as long.”
“You’ve seen him-it?” she asked, incredulously.
Malachi smiled. “Not personally. But I’ve seen his work. I’ve seen what it’s done to mankind. As a matter of fact, if we look at the long and bloody history of our world – and even our Church – it would be hard to believe that there isn’t some form of endemic evil running amok down here.”
“Oh please, don’t misunderstand me,” she apologized. “It’s not that I don’t believe in Satan....”
“I understand,” Malachi said. “Just not here and not right now.”
“S-Something like that,” she finished, lamely, head bowed in embarrassment.
“Don’t be bashful, Sister. You’re in good company.”
He then laid out the assignment he was asking her to accept – to accompany a group called the Watchmen who were guarding a man being stalked by the “Beast” as Malachi occasionally referred to him. Because of certain administration problems, they weren’t ready to do battle with Adramelech just yet. So they hoped she would be able to use her precognitive abilities to let them know of any evil presence she sensed – in effect, an early warning system to allow them to move their charge to safety, if necessary.
“But Cardinal Malachi, I must tell you again that I have no control over what I see,” she said.
The cardinal smiled and replied: “Sister, if you can sense the sacrifice of the Crucifixion from a piece of wood after more than two thousand years, you will surely sense the malevolence of the Beast. The only question now is: will you do it?”
Maria nodded slowly. “I am ready to serve where I am needed by the Church. That should be understood....” She hesitated.
“I sense a ‘but’ there,” he said.
“It’s just that.... Well...are you sure there is a demon on earth, Your Eminence?”
He laughed aloud, a deep cathartic laugh that seemed to help relieve him of the stress she observed on his face. “Or, have I been dipping into the sacrificial wine? Is that your true question?”
“Oh...I would never think that,” she replied, horrified.
“Oh yes you would,” he said, mischief in his eyes. “That’s what makes you so valuable. You bring faith tempered with reason. Though they are not necessarily mutually exclusive, all too often people believe they are.” He smiled gently at her. “Maria, we would never send you blindly into battle without you being convinced of the Beast’s existence. Accordingly, I have arranged for you to spend some time with one of our scholars – someone well versed in the vagaries of the Hellspawn.”
“But I do believe you, sir,” Maria protested.
“Of course you do,” he said, a trifle patronizingly. “Belief because of your vow of obedience? I need more than that.” Seeing her face reddening, he tried to make up for any offense she’d taken. “Look, in your shoes, I’d also think the old man was a few fries short of a Happy Meal. What you will learn over the next few days will help you appreciate the seriousness of what we’re trying to do.” He stood up from the old oak table, a sign of dismissal. “Oh, one more thing...you haven’t taken your final vows yet, I believe.”
Maria nodded. “No, I’m still a novice. I just haven’t been ready, despite the length of time; I’m sorry, Your Eminence.”
He waved away her concern. “I have spoken to many of your peers and your Sister Superior. You have a good heart and a clean soul, Maria. All too often we have seen Satan and his emissaries turn people’s sins and vulnerabilities against them. I personally believe that your good heart will keep you safe. Now, off you go. Brother Fagan is outside.”
Maria soon found herself sitting with an elderly translator in the vast Vatican Library for the better part of the next week. She was told that, while there were secret Vatican archives containing state papers, correspondence, papal account books and other documents accumulated over the centuries, these were now open to researchers and scholars. What would be revealed to Maria came from a “Registered Confidential” room. There were barely ten people living who knew of its existence and their knowledge would be passed to no more than ten others when they died.
The translator, an 85-year-old nun named Sister Raphael from the Sisters of the Sistine Order, spent day-after-day painstakingly translating and reading in English to Maria from a selection of ancient Greek, Latin and Hebrew manuscripts out of these secret archives. She said that the collective chosen texts, selected by a secret enclave, and verified for authenticity under a legal and confidential arrangement with some of the world’s eminent biblical scholars, was called the Hellspawn Attestation.
As they worked, during breaks, Sister Raphael also revealed that the Vatican Library was founded by Nicholas V in the 14th century, and now contained 60,000 priceless codices, 6,000 incunabula and more than 500,000 volumes.
The papyruses and parchments she read from, many more than two millenniums old, were faded, yellowed and cracked, and kept in a walk-in vault whose door was concealed in a s
mall locked room secreted away from the main library hall. Here the documents had been judiciously mounted and immobilized on acid free cardboard and maintained in slices of what proved to be, glass boxes. The boxes, carefully lined up in an oversized bookcase, were each fed a precisely measured mixture of temperature and humidity-controlled air through small yellow hoses fixed to giant water and compressed air cylinders attached to the wall. Sister Raphael explained that the relative humidity was kept precisely at or below 70 percent to deal with, among other things, microorganisms. By housing them in vacuum-sealed glass boxes they were able to prevent attacks by insects, fungi and bacteria, and mitigate the risk of loss which was greater from live organisms than any posed by chemical aging or mechanical damage.
The nun carefully unhooked each thin glass box, and moved it to an old wooden, table-topped lectern. Then, using an ancient ornate, brass-mounted magnifying glass she squinted at each one. With her voice wavering and cracking, she slowly revealed the secrets of the ancient scribes to Maria as she translated the faded texts word-for-word into English. After finishing each one, she would laboriously return it to the locked room, reconnect it to its individual humidifier, and make a few entries onto a computer screen to re-sequence and circulate the treated air to the replaced glass box. She would then retrieve another, and begin the process all over again.
Over the week, the tale unwound beginning with a time before Genesis. The story included: Lucifer the Beautiful and his sin of vanity and attempt to displace God from His rightful throne; the Heavenly call to arms to battle the usurpers and how Archangels Michael and Gabriel led the nine orders of angels in a Great Battle in the Heavens; and, how Lucifer and his dark disciples suffered defeat and internal damnation to hell.
There were, however, added details including: After Creation, Lucifer was said to have lurked in the shadows and made a cunning challenge to God to test His people, to let earth be the arena to see if goodness would triumph over evil. And that God placed His faith in the order of a people who would be taught right from wrong, and then allowed to freely choose their destiny. She also related how the devious Lucifer had loosed an evil champion, a spawn of hell, in the person of Adramelech onto the earth and how this demon lived, died, and lived again and again. Through the ages, information on it had been gathered and archived and it became know as the Hellspawn. But then it faded from the Church’s sight for hundreds of years. Though undocumented, there were rumors of it rising and being put into the Deathsleep with blessed stakes in its heart by an assortment of holy men through those years.
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