GENESIS (GODS CHAIN) (46 page)

The man
had
seen it in his dreams
,
and he shared these dreams to the fellowship. T
he t
ime
for its appearance
was so
close
,
and nothing would stand in their way.
Far below
,
the reliquiae
lay undisturbed and unseen at the bottom of the deepest and remotest
tunnel of
the ancient city. Old passages ran in all directions
,
joining into a warren of dead tunnels. These lonely
,
subterranean paths ran from the lodge and on through a complex of derelict caverns and clerical crypts.
Evil
,
over
the
centuries
,
had readied that dead way.
The passage
led
into the dead catacomba
. Beyond that
,
further and deeper
they would have to go,
to the gruesome Cubicle of Colpo.

             
Dark and abandoned are those places
.

CHAPTER VII

A WARNING FROM THE GRAVE

Francesca came off the stairs and swished her
ID
card at the door entrance of lower ground floor level one.
The door
opened into quite a large
and
cool
,
well
-
used storage area.
The décor was far from perfect
,
and resembled a bomb site rather than a storage area or dumping ground.
The ceilings were low.
The level relied totally on artificial lighting
, which was
bright
enough to make Francesca wish she had brought sunglasses
.

The Estates department used this room to throw away their end
-
of
-
line old office furniture.
Debris lay scattered and disorganised and on top of everything
lay
a thick coating of dust. The walls were a dull
,
dirty white with holes bashed every now and again
where
one of the porters
had carelessly
smash
ed
a metal trolley into the side.
Some purple paint had been splashed or spilled on the floors some time ago
,
although it
had wor
n
away
in places
.

People came her
e
only seldom and never to clean
.
S
candalous
,
though
t
Francesca.
It was a mix and match of stuff
,
but useful for cannibalising
when
someone
needed to get
up and
going in an office somewhere.
This place is a complete mess
.
H
ow any
one
c
an
find things
in
here
is
totally amazing
,
thought Francesca
,
a bit bewildered as usual with the organised chaos of Estates
.

Moving from the entrance towards swing
ing
doors in the adjacent wall allowed her access to another set of smaller stone stairs
that
led to lower ground
basement area
two (LGB2).
Using her
ID
card at the secure entry point
,
she
gained access to th
e
restricted lower area.
Francesca pushed open with one hand the white painted wooden door.
S
trapped over her shoulder was
a
small briefcase with laptop
,
a head torch
,
and some cables.

Francesca had taken a small detour into the office to check in
before she made her final descent. She
had not seen anyone from her team.
It was about five o’clock
,
and most people
had gone
home, “No more money
?
N
o more work
,
” was the
c
ontractors
’
motto.

It was silent here, in LGB2.
The room was half the size of the previous one and surprise
d
newcomers with its breathtaking
interior design
.
Entombed in deathly quiet, the room was a
surprise indeed
.
It had a fine sculptured Roman cornice ceiling high above with many detailed small Angels stretched around along the cornices.
A rich
,
large Fresco of the twelve disciples gazed downward upon her from the old cracked ceiling overhead.

The f
loor
,
in contrast
,
was a mosaic of colourful small triangle
-
shaped tiles forming
a depiction of
the Coliseum and
,
looking around at life
-
sized wall carvings of a
g
ladiatorial battlefield
showing
men in mortal combat, battling each other for existence,
Francesca couldn’t help but suppress a shiver
. The
g
ladiators
’
eyes were wide and life
-
like
,
e
ach fighter anticipat
ing
the other combatant’s next and fatal move. Their blood poured bright red and scarlet onto the ground
for the entertainment of the people;
even after all
the centuries
of wear
,
the atmosphere felt exciting and macabre.

The building was so old that some of the walls had thin tributary of cracks like
that of
some mad root structure making its own picture images
to
shadow those figures as they gasped their last breath. And now these men remained immortal
...
.

Anyone who
came
to this room felt shocked
and awed
by the life
-
like images and
somehow felt drawn into the
arena’s struggle for life and death; the sounds of the arena
were dead,
al
though the passion still shouted out loudly from the past
,
as did the barbaric crowds in the background who view
ed
th
e
glorious spectacle. Francesca found it all to
o
disturbing
to enjoy
and walked quickly through.

Rome was Christian when this room was decorated.
The Government building had been built
a
top
the
room
before it
was discovered.
Light came from small
,
dull electric lamps on the sides of the granite pillars next to the walls in each corner
,
providing
supporting structure for this part of the building.
Amazingly, t
he room was not used except
to give
access to the passageway leading towards St Peter’s Basilica. It was a magnificent piece of artwork in its own right
,
but was
sadly
hidden
from
public view.
The p
ictures must have
really
been something to see in their day.

Francesca
exited the room and descended a final set of circular stone stairs that wound round and downwards for
another twenty feet
until
eventually reaching the bottom of th
e
lower building.
She
found herself
staring with dread
into
the
man
-
sized tunnel
that
would lead to
Massimo
.
It was gloomy place
, lit only
with
that eerie,
dull orange hue of diffuse light.
None of the team
members
chose to
spend time
down here
—the only one who seemed willing to
volunteer
was
Massimo
.
Francesca suspected that his bravery
had been
all
bravado.
This place was an eerie place
,
a cold environment and most inhospitable.

With
a deep sigh,
she disappeared into the long passage.
She
hastily
scurried
along
the tunnel,
peering into the gloom ahead.
The
orange light hurt her eyes
,
and
when she
reach
ed
the part of the passage where
the walls and ceiling closed in
,
she slowed.
Francesca
crouch
ed,
bent almost double
for several minutes, finding it
hard to breathe. Why the corridor was so small here
,
she never knew.
Bumping her head a little off the stone
-
arc
h
ed roof
,
she cursed.