The Satanist mf-2

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The Satanist mf-2 Page 25

by Dennis Wheatley


  'But . . .' she stammered '. . . but Ratnadatta told me ... he said I'd have to serve the Temple.'

  'Oh, that!' Abaddon shrugged. 'Yes, you will do so later. But you are not a virgin, so you will both give and receive pleasure by the act. After we have feasted and the dancing begins, you will be filled with desire and eager to make love.'

  'Not tonight! Not tonight!' she pleaded. 'I don't feel like feasting and dancing. I'm too tired, I tell you. I want to go home! Please let me go home!'

  Suddenly his voice became sharp. 'You silly child! Pull yourself together! Show the same spirit you displayed earlier this evening. I'll not let you rob yourself of the reward I intended for you. I shall leave you now to give orders for your reception with the other four who are to become initiates. As you are the protege of Sasin - or Ratnadatta, to use his ordinary name - he will come for you when we assemble in the Temple and bring you down to us.'

  Before she could plead with him further, he turned on his heel, walked quickly from the room and peevishly slammed the door behind him.

  So far Mary had restrained her tears, but now she gave way to them. Her terror of Abaddon had played havoc with her nerves and sapped away her reserves of courage. During these last few minutes, as soon as she had got over her fear that he might again attempt to strangle her, she had once more had high hopes that she would be allowed to dress and leave this devil-ridden mansion. To her utter consternation, they had been shattered. With what seemed the most cruel injustice, the very fact that he had attacked her was now the reason for her being ordered to remain there and face yet another ordeal.

  That it would prove one for her was beyond doubt. His glib assurance that the ceremony required no effort might be true; but what of afterwards? He, of course, naturally assumed that, as a voluntary disciple of the Devil, she would willingly perform her 'service to the Temple', and afterwards thoroughly enjoy participating in the wild revels of his Satanic congregation. With tears oozing from the corners of her eyes, she shuddered at the thought and cursed herself anew for her temerity in having let Ratnadatta bring her again to the Temple.

  For some five minutes she gave way to despair, then her sobbing eased and she began again to contemplate an attempt to escape. Abaddon had said that she had nearly an hour before her in which she could rest, so presumably she would be left alone during that time. She should, anyway, be able to get dressed without interference. But what then?

  A long corridor, two flights of stairs and the hall lay between her and the front door. Could she possibly hope to reach it without being intercepted? And down in the hall there were the two negro footmen. It seemed unlikely that they would have been ordered to keep a look-out for her and stop her if she tried to leave the house; and, as they were semi-Zombies, they might not have the wit to do so on their own initiative.

  As against that, the hour of the meeting was approaching and, since tonight was one of the great Satanic festivals, it was certain to be a bumper gathering. Between now and ten o'clock at least thirty people, and perhaps even double that number would be arriving. They would be coming in nearly every minute, so she was certain to run into some of them, and there seemed a big risk that, thinking it strange that anyone should be going out at that hour, they would question her. If so, would she be able to satisfy them without their referring the matter to Abaddon?

  From that thought another arose. The numbers arriving would be greater after than before half-past nine, so the sooner she made the attempt, the better chance she would have of avoiding them and getting away. Again she considered the risks involved, recalling Honorius's terrifying threats of what Abaddon might do to her if she had refused to obey his order to expose herself to Mr. X. But, surely, this was quite a different matter? No work for Satan depended on her compliance. She would only be declining a favour he intended to do her. She had already told him in no uncertain terms that she did not feel up to facing initiation that night. If she was caught and stopped she could plead that her nerve had given way and impelled her to flight. As he must consider himself to blame that she should be reduced to such a state, he could hardly decree some awful punishment for her. He might compel her to stay; but he might even relent and let her go.

  For another few moments she lay there, a prey to alternate hopes and fears. But time was ticking by and she became increasingly aware that it was a case of now or never. Suddenly resolving to challenge fate, she threw back the bedclothes, got out of bed and walked over to the wardrobe.

  As she approached it she caught sight of herself in the long mirror. When she had returned from her walk over Wimbledon Common and encountered Ratnadatta in the hall, she had been wearing the elaborate make-up which she had always used since turning herself into Margot Mauriac. Her recent tears had played havoc with it, and the mascara eye-shadow now ran in streaks down her cheeks. Realizing that if she met anyone in the corridor or on the stairs it was important that she should appear calm and normal, she turned away from the wardrobe and went into the bathroom. There she quickly bathed her eyes and removed the ravages to her face. It was as well that she had done so before starting to dress, otherwise she would have been caught red-handed getting into her clothes; for, as she stepped back into the bedroom, its other door opened, and Honorius came in.

  Over her arm she had a star-spangled mantle of transparent veiling; in one hand she carried a pair of silver sandals and a mask and, in the other, a wine-glass half full of yellow liquid. Thankful for her narrow escape, Mary slipped back into bed, while the Priestess draped the mantle across the back of a chair, set down the mask and sandals and came over to her. Holding out the glass to her, she said:

  'Abaddon is very distressed about your being so upset. You played your part with Mr. X so well that we quite thought you had recovered from the shock you received before he arrived. But, of course, the effect of shock often does not show till later. Anyway, Abaddon is most anxious that you should thoroughly enjoy our great feast tonight, so he has sent you up this cordial.'

  'What is it?' Mary asked, eying the glass with suspicion.

  'It is one of our secret preparations, and has wonderful properties. Half-an-hour or so after you have taken it, you will feel marvellously refreshed, right on top of the world, and ready for anything.'

  Between a quarter-past seven and eight o'clock, Mary had had two glasses of the Delphic wine while with Ratnadatta out on the terrace, and another soon after she got into bed. They had warmed her up and done much to counter her anxieties, giving her at intervals an almost carefree feeling. But Abaddon's attack on her had dissipated their effect, destroying in her entirely the excited expectation which had resigned her mind to accepting the possibility that Mr. X might be tempted to try conclusions with her. Now, she felt sure that the golden liquid contained another and much stronger aphrodisiac, and that was the last thing she wanted at the moment. Shaking her head, she said:

  'No thank you. I'd rather not. I've just bathed my face and I feel better already. I shall be quite all right by ten o'clock.'

  'Perhaps; but this will make you feel better still. Come, drink it up.'

  'No, really,' she protested, 'I don't need it.'

  'You must.' Honorius's classical features became stern. 'Abaddon says that while looking at you he discerned a sudden aversion in you to performing service to the Temple tonight. It is understandable that shock should temporarily have robbed you of normal sexual desire, but it is imperative that you should play your part with willingness and vigour. To fail to do so on the night of your initiation would be a flagrant insult to Our Lord Satan.'

  'I... I shall be all right when the time comes. I promise you I will.'

  'You may think that now; but this shock you have had has taken a lot out of you. It is essential that you should fortify yourself, or you will be exhausted long before morning.'

  'If I do feel tired, surely I can sit and watch instead of dancing all night.'

  A cold smile twitched Honorius's lips. 'My dear, surely you realize how bea
utiful you are. One of the other women who are to be initiated is middle-aged, and the other, although quite a pretty girl, is not in the same class as yourself. Half the men in the place will be wanting to have their turn with you.'

  CHAPTER XV MEN WITHOUT MERCY

  The blood drained from Mary's face. For a moment constriction in her throat prevented her uttering. Then she burst out:

  'No! You can't mean that! Ratnadatta told me that I must take one stranger. But... but not... not any men who want me, one after another.'

  The Priestess shrugged. 'Sometimes promising converts to the Satanic faith display repugnance at the thought of such a prospect. Ratnadatta is a good psychologist and no doubt he decided that would prove the case with you; so, rather than risk your being lost to us, he decided that, your having expressed your willingness to pay tribute to Our Lord Satan by Temple Service, that was quite sufficient to go on with.'

  'Then he deceived me shamefully!' Mary exclaimed in bitter anguish. 'He got me here under false pretences.'

  'I daresay he did, but you will not be the first, nor the last, young woman on whom this mild deception has been practised.'

  'Mild deception!'

  'Yes; mild. If you are willing to let one strange man possess you, why not two or more?�

  Tears of rage started to Mary's eyes, and she retorted furiously; 'There is a difference! A vast difference. Ratnadatta said that the man selected would be one that I should find agreeable. Instead, it is proposed to use me as though I were a whore in a brothel.'

  'You are a fine healthy girl, so will take no harm from it. Abaddon will see to it that you are not overtaxed.'

  'What. . . what d'you mean by that?'

  'He will make those who want you draw lots with numbers, then call a halt when he decides that you are tired.'

  'Have men queue up for me!' Mary gasped. 'I won't! I won't!'

  'Nonsense, child. I have had neophytes through my hands before who felt as you do now. Faced with the prospect of taking several lovers instead of one, they make the same protests as you are doing. But, when the time comes, their scruples vanish. After the feast they become eager to be loved and the sight of others throwing off all restraint sets them at their ease.'

  'I can't! I couldn't!' Mary cried. 'There are some repulsive men among them to whom I'd never give myself. Never! Never!'

  'Never is a long time,' Honorius smiled. 'After a while you will come to set much more store on the pleasure a man can give you than on his features, the shape of his limbs or the colour of his skin. But if you have a prejudice against the ageing or pot-bellied I will tell Abaddon, and he will arrange matters so that only well-formed men embrace you tonight.'

  Quivering with fear and fury, Mary retorted; 'No one shall embrace me! I'll not submit to this! Get out of here to hell where you belong! I'm going home!'

  With both hands she thrust down the sheets, and drew up a leg to spring out of bed; but Honorius was too quick for her. Ignoring her movement, the Priestess shot out a hand, seized her by the nose and forced her head back. As Mary gasped for breath, Honorius shot the contents of the glass into her open mouth. She choked and swallowed. A little of the liquid ran down her chin, but as her head hit the pillow, nearly all of it went down her throat.

  'That's better,' Honorius murmured. 'And now I'm going to send you to sleep for half an hour. You will feel quite a different girl when you wake up.'

  'Let me go!' Mary gurgled, endeavouring to spit out the little of the liquid that remained in her mouth, and thrusting her hands up against the Priestess's shoulders.

  Honorius did let go of Mary's nose, but dropped the glass, seized both her wrists, broke her hold, and forced her hands down on to her chest.

  As Mary's breath returned, she panted, 'You bitch! Get off me! Let me go or I'll kill you,' and she began to struggle violently. But the tall Priestess was a powerful woman and had the advantage that she had thrown the upper part of her body on top of Mary and was pressing her down.

  In vain Mary jerked up her knees and strove to free herself. She could not wrench her wrists from the firm hold upon them and the weight of the Priestess crushed her against the well-sprung mattress of the bed. Meanwhile, Honorius's face was only a few inches above her own and the big grey eyes in it held hers with a steady gaze.

  As Mary stared back the eyes seemed to grow even bigger. Then the Priestess said in a soft voice, 'Sleep. My will is stronger than yours and you must obey me. I order you to sleep.'

  Realizing that she was being hypnotized, Mary tried to shut her eyes; but it was too late. She found she could not lower her eyelids, or look away from those great grey orbs that bored down into hers. Honorius's weight was forcing the breath out of her lungs and she knew that her strength was ebbing. The eyes grew larger until the Priestess's face became a blur, then disappeared, leaving only the two huge eyes, now seeming the size of saucers, poised above Mary's face. She could still taste the potion she had been given. It was bitter-sweet, like vermouth, only as strong as a liqueur. Its flavour was the last thing she remembered before she faded into unconsciousness.

  When she came to, she was alone. A delightful warmth pervaded her whole body, the feel of the lawn sheets between which she lay seemed like a caress on her bare skin, and she was more conscious than she had been before of the delicious scent that Honorius had put on her in preparation for Mr. X's visit. The drug had stimulated all her senses, and with the lazy sensuousness of a cat she snuggled down in the big bed to doze again for a few minutes.

  Gradually, all that had happened came back to her, but she felt no impulse to jump out of bed, hurry into her clothes and attempt to escape. A comforting fatalism now dominated her mind. She had succeeded, or very nearly succeeded, in the task she had set herself. Provided she could continue to remain unsuspected as a spy, in the long run she would get the best of these people who had trapped her. Teddy's shoes linked his murder with Ratnadatta and it didn't much matter that she had failed to bring about his arrest tonight, as she had planned. It would be equally satisfying to witness it tomorrow.

  To achieve this she had, after all, to pay the price she had been prepared to pay to start with. In fact, it now transpired to be a much higher price than she had bargained for. But Honorius had been right in contending that it was not beyond her means to pay it. Some of the men she could not have borne, but Honorius had promised to see to it that she was not asked to do so, and the Priestess had been so completely frank about everything that there was no reason to suppose that she had not meant what she said.

  And, after all, during a passionate embrace one man was very like another; so would she really mind that, instead of being made love to by one man all through the night, she was to be the partner of several? An episode from her black year in Dublin came back to her. Some young men had come to the club intent on throwing a wild party. When the club closed, two of them had carried her off to a flat belonging to one of them. There they had played strip-tease poker until all three of them had forfeited most of their clothes. Laughing and fooling, one of them had then carried her into the bedroom and put out the light. A few minutes later the other had joined them, and as she had had a lot to drink she hadn't really minded.

  The two young men had been friends of Barney's. The thought of him made her wonder what he was doing at that moment. Her immediate guess was that he was at some quiet country hotel in bed with an attractive woman - some easy light-of-love for whom he had so callously let her down. Then she remembered that it was not yet ten o'clock. More probably they were still sitting in the lounge over coffee and liqueurs talking trivialities but mentally savouring in advance the delights of the night to come. He would be smiling into her eyes, entertaining her with some gay nonsense and grinning that devastating grin of his.

  What a fool she had been on the point of making herself about him. As though a man with a nature like his could ever really change. Yet he had persuaded her that he had. In her heart she knew that she had forgiven him for the past.
If he had asked her to go away with him for the weekend she would have. And she would have told herself that it was to carry out her plan to be avenged on him. Up to the last moment she would have toyed with the idea of telling him the truth about what he had done to her, then leaving him flat. But she wouldn't have done it. Instead, she would have let him make love to her again. She knew that she wouldn't have been able to help herself, because she would have wanted him, and wanted him more than any man she had ever known.

  But that was not going to happen now. Once again he had unfurled his true colours. That would give her the strength to resist any future temptation to become his plaything. She was not going to let him break her heart. When he turned up on Monday full of blarney and apparent contrition, she would tell him that she meant to have no more to do with him. He could run his hand through that dark curly hair of his, that looked like a wet poodle's, until he rubbed it off, for all she cared. She was finished with him, and for good. All the same, it was better to stop thinking of him.

  Lazily she stretched herself. She wished that she could lie there in the warm scented bed for ever. But not alone. She wanted someone to share it whom she could laugh with and be cuddled by. If only some dark, handsome stranger would walk into the room now, she knew that she would welcome him. Just a pretence of fright and shyness perhaps. But no more. A little persuading, then strong arms round her that she could almost feel as she thought of them; then long luscious kisses and once again the swoon of pleasure that she had for a long while been denied.

  Suddenly she wondered if she was oversexed and promiscuous by nature. If she could so desire a man, any man, providing he was clean and wholesome, surely she must be? Yet, deep down, she knew that she was not. Although, during the greater part of the four years she had been married to Teddy, their relations had been governed by habit rather than passion, and for the last few months of his life he had become almost impotent as far as she was concerned, she had remained faithful to him. Even thoughts of what other men might be like as lovers had entered her mind only occasionally, and she would never have contemplated for a moment allowing one of them to seduce her. Several of his acquaintances had made exploratory overtures, but she had not even let them kiss her. Those memories reassured her that she was now in a highly abnormal state. The craving that had begun to obsess her was a thing not of the mind, but of the body, and could be due only to the strong aphrodisiac that Honorius had forced her to swallow.

 

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