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I just thought about this short story I wrote back in 1994 and thought I should bring it back to view. It seems relevant to what I'll be doing tomorrow (I plan on writing a play on Pope Innocent VIII!).
Enjoy! (Oh yeah. It's a nasty little story with violence and such, so be warned.)
Matthew stares. Fascination. Repugnance. She flips chestnut hair over, around. Brushes bottom of her shoulder-blades. Sequinned bra glitters under strobe lights, Matthew's pulse quickens. His hands tighten in pockets, feel desperately for a cigarette. Never takes eyes off her; has to be sure he can recognize her later.
She bends. Slowly unfastens clip on white silk stocking. Never taken stockings off before. He puts cigarette in mouth, lights it, watches her. Watched every night last month and a half.
There! Back of left knee, small brown mole. That's it. Certain now. Keeps watching.
She bends again. Everyone in bar sees all except what g-string covers. Matthew's eyes take in every square inch of skin. Wants to see more devil's marks. Sure there are more. Never just one. She strips completely naked. Wantonly thrusts nether parts, copulating with unseen incubus. Matthew can't find another mark.
Matthew woke up from his vision with a grim satisfaction. Soon he could begin the hunt. He would start by going to all of the strip joints in town. There were many, he knew, but he wasn't daunted by the long task ahead of him. The visions he'd been having and his subsequent studies of the Holy writings had made his duty abundantly clear.
The doorbell startled him, and he got up to check the clock. It was ten in the morning, too late to stay in bed any longer, so he put on his robe and went to see who was there. "Yes?" he asked as he opened the door.
A woman with chestnut hair stood at the door. Matthew's pulse sped up. His mouth got dry. It was her. He was sure of it. She began talking in an incongruously soft and pleasant voice. "Hello, my name is Marie Robichaude, and this is my friend Linda Mason, and we are calling on you and your neighbours today with our journals the Watchtower and the Awake! We like to encourage people to look into their Bibles and--"
Then he knew what to do. A delicious little shiver trilled down his spine. "Oh, please come in! I was just reading from Exodus." He was glad to see that she was accepting his invitation and was indeed entering his home. His voice tremored. "Please have a seat." He pointed towards his living room. "I'll be just be a moment. I'm going to get dressed a bit more appropriately." Marie and Linda sat down on the sofa and began rummaging through their large denim purses. He left them there and went back into his bedroom.
He sat down on his bed and began shaking with righteous indignation. How dare she! How dare she pretend to be a pious lady. He prayed for strength from God, and his trembling stopped. God was on his side. Matthew took a deep breath and reverently donned the garb of his Holy Office. The costume was made up of a cape, tall leather boots, dark trousers, and a wide-brimmed black hat. He adjusted his crucifix so that was prominent on his chest, and then he went back out into the living room.
Marie and Linda looked at each other strangely before Marie began telling him about God's great promises. He interrupted her. "Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Matthew Hopkins, and I would like to ask you a few questions." He sat down in the easy-chair close to the front door.
Linda looked at Marie and moistened her top lip with her tongue. "Well, okay. Go ahead, Mr. Hopkins. I'm sure that together we can find the answers for your questions in the Bible."
Ignoring Linda, he leaned forward and looked pointedly at Marie. "Have you ever celebrated the Holy Mass?"
"Not as such, but as Jehovah's Witnesses we commemorate the Lord's Evening Meal once a year on the Passover date."
"Fine. And have you ever eaten the Holy wafer?"
"No. The wafer which symbolizes Christ's body is. . ."
"Then you admit to never keeping this sacrament?" He sat up straighter in his chair and stared at her steadily, his mind seething with anger and pity.
Linda straightened her calf-length beige skirt and began speaking in a timid voice. "There is no need to repeat Christ's sacrifice. If we turn to Hebrews 9:24-26, we can see that..."
Matthew looked at her with horror. "You too would try to pervert the Holy Writings of the Lord?" Then he noticed a large black mole on her throat, just above where she had tried to hide it from him with a gauzy pink scarf.
Matthew held his crucifix tightly in his right hand and prayed silently for divine help. He couldn't bear pain, and he couldn't bear the thought of inflicting pain, even for the will of God. But God was merciful and He hardened Matthew's heart. With his newfound strength, Matthew was able to continue with the interrogation.
He darted across to the door and locked it.
Linda and Marie stood up, clearly alarmed.
"I'm sorry," he said. "Is something wrong?"
Marie picked up her bag and held it in front of her tightly. "Why did you lock the door?"
"Oh!" he laughed. "I didn't realize I had done that. Force of habit, I guess." He sat down in the chair again and brushed off his lap. "There's all sorts of evil in a city this size."
Linda began to fidget, chewing on one of her thumbnails while shuffling slightly from foot to foot.
"Come now. We were having such an enlightening conversation. Do let us continue."
Marie whispered something quietly to Linda and they both sat down again.
"Now. Where were we?"
Marie looked determined to do something, but Matthew was resolute not to allow her practice of any further evil. "We were explaining our stand concerning the sacraments," she said.
"Ah, so we were. Then I suppose you wouldn't mind if I asked you some more questions, would you?"
"Not at all," answered Marie. She reached over and squeezed Linda's hand. "But we really should be leaving soon. Linda has to go home and make lunch for her kids."
Matthew looked around the room frantically. "Oh, please don't go." He jumped up once more. He had to find a way to keep them here. If he could only find something that he could knock them out with. Something heavy, like that metal lamp. "The conversation we are having is most informative, don't you find?"
In one quick motion he reached over to the end table beside the couch, took the lamp in his hand, and tried to smash it across Marie's neck. Both Linda and Marie screamed, and Marie twisted around to get out of the way, but the lamp hit her solidly on the back of her head. She fell down heavily and Linda began to plead, "Oh please! Please don't hurt us! Don't rape us!"
Sweat itched its way down Matthew's neck, and a tide of bile rose in his throat. "You silly wicked woman. I won't fall for that. You know what I'm going to do, and you know why. You can't hide your evilness behind a veil of ignorance."
She screamed again. "Oh Jehovah! Jehovah! Please help us!"
"Thou must not take the Lord's name in vain," said Matthew, and he struck her too.
She squealed and started to stumble toward the door. He closed his eyes and swung the lamp with all of his strength. The screaming stopped when the lamp hit something soft. He reluctantly opened his eyes. One of Marie's legs was up on the seat of the couch, and her skirt was hauled up around her hips. Both women were bleeding, and bloody shards of light bulb were in Linda's cheek.
The tide in his throat rose again, and for ten minutes he just stood there, weaving a bit, with the broken lamp in his hand. Then Marie started to moan and move her head, and he knew he had to tie them up.
Shaking the whole while, he yanked the electrical cord out of the lamp and tied Marie's hands tightly behind her back. Then he ran into the kitchen and took the extension cord out of the bottom drawer by the refrigerator. He used this cord to tie up Linda's wrists in the same way.
Marie came to and began to sob, but Matthew saw no tears in her eyes. Fumbling, he removed the scarf from Linda's throat, tore it in two, and stuffed the halves in the women's mouths. Then he went to his closet, took two leather belts, and strapped them around Linda and Marie's mouths. When that was done, he clasped his hands, and stared at the crucifix on the wall. Then he fainted on the floor beside them, and was sent another vision from God.
A circle surrounded by dead misshapen trees. Moon full, no clouds, but the night very dark. Matthew walks out of circle. Someone chanting. Can't see who, can't hear what. Can almost understand. Getting closer. Closer. Familiar.
The Lord's Prayer backwards. He stops walking. Crosses himself. Familiar voices growing louder. Slow step forward. Toe bumps something. Can only see shadow. Moves something with toe. Hears blasphemy approaching. Picks up three-foot-long wooden cross.
Sinks to knees in relief. Circle must be blessed. Safe here. Praises God's mercy. Sources of voices appear. Joy becomes rage.
Linda, Marie, and strange woman naked. Borne toward circle on heads of strange flying beasts. Animals low and moan. The sounds of rutting. Witches chant their sacrilege. Grind their genitals on heads of impassioned mounts.
Disgust! Breaths break out in loud, short pantings. His hands and face become hot and slick with perspiration.
Unknown woman arrives at circle first. Leaps from head of unholy steed. Approaches Matthew. Large obscene breasts roll from side to side as she walks. Steps across boundary of circle. How? He moans in dread.
Takes cross from his sweating flaccid hands. Holds it aloft, upsidedown. Marie and Linda laugh shrilly. leap from heads of riding-beasts. Women in front of him, but can't see what they're doing. Backs turned to him. He runs out of circle, behind nearby tree.
Covers ears, screws eyes shut, but still hears women's evil laughter. God wants him to know full extent of evils perpetrated against Him. Matthew takes hands from ears, forces eyes open to watch. Another figure with three witches. A demon--perhaps Devil himself--holding baby. Monster shaped like man, but has perverse deformities. Nullifies any humanity it may have had. Face like bald he-goat's, feet clawed, small fleshy wings, long hairless tail.
It turns, scaled back to Matthew, bends over, holding too-silent child. Women line up behind fiend. It flips tail away from hindmost parts.
Matthew's stomach churns. Hideous face leers out from where buttocks should be. Face has long forked tongue sliding suggestively across upper lip. Unknown woman steps forward, gets down on knees, places cross on ground beneath Devil. She embraces face on monster's posterior with drawn-out whorish kiss. Linda and Marie wait behind with heads bowed reverently. Matthew retches.
When first witch finishes kissing demon, it squats and defecates from face's mouth onto cross. Linda steps up to Devil, kneels in filth, kisses face as first woman had. When through, and monster shit again, Marie moves forward, repeats infamous kiss.
At completion of ritual, women and demon howl loudly. Infant hurled to ground. Witches jump onto child. Devour it. Suck out its blood. Devil copulates with each woman in turn. Grasps women's buttocks, spreads apart with horny hands. With loud roar impales each woman on huge barbed two-pronged member.
When Matthew woke, his hands were trembling, and the crotch of his pants was sticky with wasted semen. Linda was still in the same place where she had been struck down. He was lying across one of her icy-cold legs, and the stench of shit was emanating from her. She was dead.
He heard a thumping sound and looked to see Marie slowly dragging herself with her feet towards the door. His vision had left him dazed, and for a moment he just lay still while she kicked off her shoes and lifted her feet to the lock on the door. Her skirt was up around her waist, and he could see that her underwear was sodden with urine. He saw the outlines of her nether parts through the wet cloth.
"Succubus!" he cried, and jumped up from the floor. Marie scrambled around so that her feet were facing him, getting ready to kick at him. Her eyes were filled with screams, and she stared at him without blinking. But he knew she wouldn't move. God would make sure she couldn't hurt him anymore.
Matthew was weeping now. "Is serving Satan worth so very much to you?" He sank down to the floor again and sobbed, broken-hearted, his face cradled in his arms.
Evil! He had never realized how completely evil witches were. Now he understood fully, too fully almost. With his head still hidden in his arms, he began to speak again. "Before today, I had never," he choked for breath, head bobbing. "I'd never realized why witches had to be tortured so severely for their confessions." He began to rock himself back and forth slowly.
"I don't have to stick a pin in your Devil's marks now. The Lord God had mercy and revealed all. Now I can begin the auto-da-fé." He reached into a pocket and pulled out a box of wooden matches, spilling some onto the floor.
"Unfortunately, our society just doesn't seem to recognize the danger it's in from your kind." Eyes still closed, he fumbled for the spilled matches. A slight cool breeze blew his hair. It felt good. He was so hot. And a breeze would help stoke the flames.
"My father wanted me to be a historian at the University."
Somewhere, off in the distance, Matthew could hear a siren. The police, probably. There is, after all, much evil in a city this size.
"Father made me study, but I didn't find it entirely uninteresting" He toyed with a match in his hand, smelling the sulphur, feeling the grain of the wood. His breaths came more easily now. "I was able to learn more about my family roots, and do you know what?"
The matches flew from his hands as someone grabbed his wrists and shackled them. The witches! But it could only be an illusion. They were powerless, but still, it felt like he was being moved. Awesome powers. Even the mind could be tricked. He resolutely kept his eyes shut.
"Seven generations back in England an ancestor of mine received the Holy Orders as well. He was the best Witch-Finder General there ever was. So I listened, didn't I? I'm following the family tradition, but not just because my father said to."
"I am the agent of God, and you will burn in Hell!"
The sirens sounded again, and he smiled triumphantly.
Enjoy! (Oh yeah. It's a nasty little story with violence and such, so be warned.)
Matthew stares. Fascination. Repugnance. She flips chestnut hair over, around. Brushes bottom of her shoulder-blades. Sequinned bra glitters under strobe lights, Matthew's pulse quickens. His hands tighten in pockets, feel desperately for a cigarette. Never takes eyes off her; has to be sure he can recognize her later.
She bends. Slowly unfastens clip on white silk stocking. Never taken stockings off before. He puts cigarette in mouth, lights it, watches her. Watched every night last month and a half.
There! Back of left knee, small brown mole. That's it. Certain now. Keeps watching.
She bends again. Everyone in bar sees all except what g-string covers. Matthew's eyes take in every square inch of skin. Wants to see more devil's marks. Sure there are more. Never just one. She strips completely naked. Wantonly thrusts nether parts, copulating with unseen incubus. Matthew can't find another mark.
Matthew woke up from his vision with a grim satisfaction. Soon he could begin the hunt. He would start by going to all of the strip joints in town. There were many, he knew, but he wasn't daunted by the long task ahead of him. The visions he'd been having and his subsequent studies of the Holy writings had made his duty abundantly clear.
The doorbell startled him, and he got up to check the clock. It was ten in the morning, too late to stay in bed any longer, so he put on his robe and went to see who was there. "Yes?" he asked as he opened the door.
A woman with chestnut hair stood at the door. Matthew's pulse sped up. His mouth got dry. It was her. He was sure of it. She began talking in an incongruously soft and pleasant voice. "Hello, my name is Marie Robichaude, and this is my friend Linda Mason, and we are calling on you and your neighbours today with our journals the Watchtower and the Awake! We like to encourage people to look into their Bibles and--"
Then he knew what to do. A delicious little shiver trilled down his spine. "Oh, please come in! I was just reading from Exodus." He was glad to see that she was accepting his invitation and was indeed entering his home. His voice tremored. "Please have a seat." He pointed towards his living room. "I'll be just be a moment. I'm going to get dressed a bit more appropriately." Marie and Linda sat down on the sofa and began rummaging through their large denim purses. He left them there and went back into his bedroom.
He sat down on his bed and began shaking with righteous indignation. How dare she! How dare she pretend to be a pious lady. He prayed for strength from God, and his trembling stopped. God was on his side. Matthew took a deep breath and reverently donned the garb of his Holy Office. The costume was made up of a cape, tall leather boots, dark trousers, and a wide-brimmed black hat. He adjusted his crucifix so that was prominent on his chest, and then he went back out into the living room.
Marie and Linda looked at each other strangely before Marie began telling him about God's great promises. He interrupted her. "Allow me to introduce myself. My name is Matthew Hopkins, and I would like to ask you a few questions." He sat down in the easy-chair close to the front door.
Linda looked at Marie and moistened her top lip with her tongue. "Well, okay. Go ahead, Mr. Hopkins. I'm sure that together we can find the answers for your questions in the Bible."
Ignoring Linda, he leaned forward and looked pointedly at Marie. "Have you ever celebrated the Holy Mass?"
"Not as such, but as Jehovah's Witnesses we commemorate the Lord's Evening Meal once a year on the Passover date."
"Fine. And have you ever eaten the Holy wafer?"
"No. The wafer which symbolizes Christ's body is. . ."
"Then you admit to never keeping this sacrament?" He sat up straighter in his chair and stared at her steadily, his mind seething with anger and pity.
Linda straightened her calf-length beige skirt and began speaking in a timid voice. "There is no need to repeat Christ's sacrifice. If we turn to Hebrews 9:24-26, we can see that..."
Matthew looked at her with horror. "You too would try to pervert the Holy Writings of the Lord?" Then he noticed a large black mole on her throat, just above where she had tried to hide it from him with a gauzy pink scarf.
Matthew held his crucifix tightly in his right hand and prayed silently for divine help. He couldn't bear pain, and he couldn't bear the thought of inflicting pain, even for the will of God. But God was merciful and He hardened Matthew's heart. With his newfound strength, Matthew was able to continue with the interrogation.
He darted across to the door and locked it.
Linda and Marie stood up, clearly alarmed.
"I'm sorry," he said. "Is something wrong?"
Marie picked up her bag and held it in front of her tightly. "Why did you lock the door?"
"Oh!" he laughed. "I didn't realize I had done that. Force of habit, I guess." He sat down in the chair again and brushed off his lap. "There's all sorts of evil in a city this size."
Linda began to fidget, chewing on one of her thumbnails while shuffling slightly from foot to foot.
"Come now. We were having such an enlightening conversation. Do let us continue."
Marie whispered something quietly to Linda and they both sat down again.
"Now. Where were we?"
Marie looked determined to do something, but Matthew was resolute not to allow her practice of any further evil. "We were explaining our stand concerning the sacraments," she said.
"Ah, so we were. Then I suppose you wouldn't mind if I asked you some more questions, would you?"
"Not at all," answered Marie. She reached over and squeezed Linda's hand. "But we really should be leaving soon. Linda has to go home and make lunch for her kids."
Matthew looked around the room frantically. "Oh, please don't go." He jumped up once more. He had to find a way to keep them here. If he could only find something that he could knock them out with. Something heavy, like that metal lamp. "The conversation we are having is most informative, don't you find?"
In one quick motion he reached over to the end table beside the couch, took the lamp in his hand, and tried to smash it across Marie's neck. Both Linda and Marie screamed, and Marie twisted around to get out of the way, but the lamp hit her solidly on the back of her head. She fell down heavily and Linda began to plead, "Oh please! Please don't hurt us! Don't rape us!"
Sweat itched its way down Matthew's neck, and a tide of bile rose in his throat. "You silly wicked woman. I won't fall for that. You know what I'm going to do, and you know why. You can't hide your evilness behind a veil of ignorance."
She screamed again. "Oh Jehovah! Jehovah! Please help us!"
"Thou must not take the Lord's name in vain," said Matthew, and he struck her too.
She squealed and started to stumble toward the door. He closed his eyes and swung the lamp with all of his strength. The screaming stopped when the lamp hit something soft. He reluctantly opened his eyes. One of Marie's legs was up on the seat of the couch, and her skirt was hauled up around her hips. Both women were bleeding, and bloody shards of light bulb were in Linda's cheek.
The tide in his throat rose again, and for ten minutes he just stood there, weaving a bit, with the broken lamp in his hand. Then Marie started to moan and move her head, and he knew he had to tie them up.
Shaking the whole while, he yanked the electrical cord out of the lamp and tied Marie's hands tightly behind her back. Then he ran into the kitchen and took the extension cord out of the bottom drawer by the refrigerator. He used this cord to tie up Linda's wrists in the same way.
Marie came to and began to sob, but Matthew saw no tears in her eyes. Fumbling, he removed the scarf from Linda's throat, tore it in two, and stuffed the halves in the women's mouths. Then he went to his closet, took two leather belts, and strapped them around Linda and Marie's mouths. When that was done, he clasped his hands, and stared at the crucifix on the wall. Then he fainted on the floor beside them, and was sent another vision from God.
A circle surrounded by dead misshapen trees. Moon full, no clouds, but the night very dark. Matthew walks out of circle. Someone chanting. Can't see who, can't hear what. Can almost understand. Getting closer. Closer. Familiar.
The Lord's Prayer backwards. He stops walking. Crosses himself. Familiar voices growing louder. Slow step forward. Toe bumps something. Can only see shadow. Moves something with toe. Hears blasphemy approaching. Picks up three-foot-long wooden cross.
Sinks to knees in relief. Circle must be blessed. Safe here. Praises God's mercy. Sources of voices appear. Joy becomes rage.
Linda, Marie, and strange woman naked. Borne toward circle on heads of strange flying beasts. Animals low and moan. The sounds of rutting. Witches chant their sacrilege. Grind their genitals on heads of impassioned mounts.
Disgust! Breaths break out in loud, short pantings. His hands and face become hot and slick with perspiration.
Unknown woman arrives at circle first. Leaps from head of unholy steed. Approaches Matthew. Large obscene breasts roll from side to side as she walks. Steps across boundary of circle. How? He moans in dread.
Takes cross from his sweating flaccid hands. Holds it aloft, upsidedown. Marie and Linda laugh shrilly. leap from heads of riding-beasts. Women in front of him, but can't see what they're doing. Backs turned to him. He runs out of circle, behind nearby tree.
Covers ears, screws eyes shut, but still hears women's evil laughter. God wants him to know full extent of evils perpetrated against Him. Matthew takes hands from ears, forces eyes open to watch. Another figure with three witches. A demon--perhaps Devil himself--holding baby. Monster shaped like man, but has perverse deformities. Nullifies any humanity it may have had. Face like bald he-goat's, feet clawed, small fleshy wings, long hairless tail.
It turns, scaled back to Matthew, bends over, holding too-silent child. Women line up behind fiend. It flips tail away from hindmost parts.
Matthew's stomach churns. Hideous face leers out from where buttocks should be. Face has long forked tongue sliding suggestively across upper lip. Unknown woman steps forward, gets down on knees, places cross on ground beneath Devil. She embraces face on monster's posterior with drawn-out whorish kiss. Linda and Marie wait behind with heads bowed reverently. Matthew retches.
When first witch finishes kissing demon, it squats and defecates from face's mouth onto cross. Linda steps up to Devil, kneels in filth, kisses face as first woman had. When through, and monster shit again, Marie moves forward, repeats infamous kiss.
At completion of ritual, women and demon howl loudly. Infant hurled to ground. Witches jump onto child. Devour it. Suck out its blood. Devil copulates with each woman in turn. Grasps women's buttocks, spreads apart with horny hands. With loud roar impales each woman on huge barbed two-pronged member.
When Matthew woke, his hands were trembling, and the crotch of his pants was sticky with wasted semen. Linda was still in the same place where she had been struck down. He was lying across one of her icy-cold legs, and the stench of shit was emanating from her. She was dead.
He heard a thumping sound and looked to see Marie slowly dragging herself with her feet towards the door. His vision had left him dazed, and for a moment he just lay still while she kicked off her shoes and lifted her feet to the lock on the door. Her skirt was up around her waist, and he could see that her underwear was sodden with urine. He saw the outlines of her nether parts through the wet cloth.
"Succubus!" he cried, and jumped up from the floor. Marie scrambled around so that her feet were facing him, getting ready to kick at him. Her eyes were filled with screams, and she stared at him without blinking. But he knew she wouldn't move. God would make sure she couldn't hurt him anymore.
Matthew was weeping now. "Is serving Satan worth so very much to you?" He sank down to the floor again and sobbed, broken-hearted, his face cradled in his arms.
Evil! He had never realized how completely evil witches were. Now he understood fully, too fully almost. With his head still hidden in his arms, he began to speak again. "Before today, I had never," he choked for breath, head bobbing. "I'd never realized why witches had to be tortured so severely for their confessions." He began to rock himself back and forth slowly.
"I don't have to stick a pin in your Devil's marks now. The Lord God had mercy and revealed all. Now I can begin the auto-da-fé." He reached into a pocket and pulled out a box of wooden matches, spilling some onto the floor.
"Unfortunately, our society just doesn't seem to recognize the danger it's in from your kind." Eyes still closed, he fumbled for the spilled matches. A slight cool breeze blew his hair. It felt good. He was so hot. And a breeze would help stoke the flames.
"My father wanted me to be a historian at the University."
Somewhere, off in the distance, Matthew could hear a siren. The police, probably. There is, after all, much evil in a city this size.
"Father made me study, but I didn't find it entirely uninteresting" He toyed with a match in his hand, smelling the sulphur, feeling the grain of the wood. His breaths came more easily now. "I was able to learn more about my family roots, and do you know what?"
The matches flew from his hands as someone grabbed his wrists and shackled them. The witches! But it could only be an illusion. They were powerless, but still, it felt like he was being moved. Awesome powers. Even the mind could be tricked. He resolutely kept his eyes shut.
"Seven generations back in England an ancestor of mine received the Holy Orders as well. He was the best Witch-Finder General there ever was. So I listened, didn't I? I'm following the family tradition, but not just because my father said to."
"I am the agent of God, and you will burn in Hell!"
The sirens sounded again, and he smiled triumphantly.
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Date: 2013-03-16 01:20 pm (UTC)From: