Heller's Regret (36 page)

“You’re very late,” said Farrell coldly.
“They had to rearrange the program.”

Malefic’s eyes fixed on one of his ‘old’
acolytes, his usual message-taker. “It appears there was a
breakdown in communication on my side. I will apologise to the
organisers.”

The young woman by his side drifted out of
her stupor long enough to blush at his reprimand. I was relieved to
see there was still some spark of humanity inside the seemingly
empty husk of her body.

“Do you have a ticket?” asked Farrell.

“I most assuredly do, gruff man.” He
presented it with a flourish, waiting patiently as Farrell examined
it intently, checking both sides, something we never did.

“You can go in,” he reluctantly decided.

“Very kind of you,” Malefic said, all
politeness on the surface, but with an unmistakable tinge of
derision. He moved towards the doors, his entourage following.

“Hold on,” said Farrell, stepping into the
doorway to block them. “No entry for them without tickets.”

“They’re clearly with me,” Malefic replied, a
little testy. He tried a smile that failed to spread from his lips.
“They’re my cheer squad. I’m positive I’ll need them debating such
an unpopular concept in this crowd of fanatics. You can’t deny a
man his moral support.”

“No ticket, no entry. No exceptions.” Farrell
stayed in place.

Malefic’s lips compressed. “Please get one of
the organisers.” He turned to the scolded acolyte. “Who have I been
dealing with in this matter, my treasure?”

“A man called Tom, Master,” she said in a
barely audible voice, her blush of shame turning in to one of
happiness at his use of the endearment.

“Get this Tom person for me,” he ordered
Farrell. “He can sort out this trivial problem.”

Farrell nodded his head towards the hall, so
I went inside, peering around for Tom. He was facilitating the
breakout session on abstinence in marriage and had a surprising
number of people in his group. On the edge of the bunched-up crowd,
I waved to attract his attention.

Miriam nudged him and he noticed me, giving
his apologies to the group and handing over the facilitating role
to his wife. I quickly explained the situation as we crossed the
hall.

Though irritated by his lateness, he held out
his hand and managed a congenial smile for Malefic, who gave him a
level, appraising glance in return. Malefic grazed Tom’s hand with
his fingers, leaving the older man disconcerted, jerking back his
hand as if he’d touched something unpleasant.

Malefic had an effect on people when he
touched them, something which had really frightened me when I’d
discovered that for myself. Involuntarily, I shivered, remembering
how I’d felt the blackness of his soul seeping into my blood
stream. I never wanted him to touch me again.

He discussed the stumbling point of his
acolytes’ entry to the conference with Tom, who wore his caring,
listening face. As Malefic spoke, he seemed to be doing something
to the older man, who stopped speaking and began nodding
robotically in agreement with every demand he made. Watching
Malefic staring intently into Tom’s eyes, I couldn’t help but think
he was hypnotising him in some way.

Heller had insisted to me Malefic only used
tricks and illusions to build his mystique and work his ‘magic’.
But then Heller had been the only person who’d had no reaction to
Malefic’s touch, so he was entitled to be sceptical. But I’d seen
people fleeing from Malefic, or so scared of him they were unable
to run, frozen in place. Others had completely fainted at his touch
and I’d definitely felt something creepy on the two occasions when
he’d laid his hand on my shoulder – experiences I wasn’t keen to
repeat.

Tom turned to Farrell. “Please let Mr
Malefic’s friends into the hall. I give my full and unreserved
permission.”

Throwing Farrell a deplorable self-satisfied
look, Malefic led his acolytes into the hall, everyone turning to
openly gape at them. It wasn’t everyday someone like him came into
your life. When I’d first seen him, I’d barely been able to tear my
eyes away too.

He wasn’t pleased at being forced to sit at
the back and wait until the breakout sessions were finished and
then for lunch to be consumed. But as it was a result of his own
lateness, Tom remained stubbornly firm about this, no matter how
hard Malefic tried to ‘hypnotise’ him.

During lunch, Malefic approached Farrell and
me. Again I had that instinctive reaction to move away from
him.

“Why did you agree to this debate?” I asked
him, my tone a little harsh.

“How could I resist, Matilda? A defence of
Asmodeus over Artemis seemed of monumental importance to me.” I had
no idea who he was talking about. “A debate on virginity in this
age of explicit sexual display amuses me. We should celebrate
carnal excess, not hide it away like some dirty secret. Fucking is
an important bonding ritual that binds my acolytes to me. My
ecstasy feeds their souls. My seed is the glue that holds us
together, you might say.” He smiled indulgently at them. “Male or
female, it makes no difference to me how many or who I’m fucking. I
share my seed generously.”

“Mind your language,” snapped Farrell. “Be
respectful of the people around you. Nobody wants to hear about
your sex life.”

“You may have noticed, though perhaps not, as
many of your type aren’t gifted with impressive observation and
comprehension skills, that I rarely use curse words. But I do like
the word ‘fuck’, and I say it in the context of its correct
meaning, not as an expletive, which I find coarse and rather
common.”

“However you use it, please refrain in this
hall. Some of the attendees are very sensitive to bad
language.”

“And to fucking too, I assume, considering
they are virgins.”

“Enough.”

“If you insist.”

“I do.”

“To answer your question more fully, Matilda,
the thought of a hall filled with virgins entices my senses.
Absorbing every bit of purity in this room would be sublime. I
could harness the potency of that to enhance many of my
rituals.”

“You mean your spells?”

“Matilda,” he reproached, disappointed at my
cheap dig. “You know I don’t ‘do’ spells. You’re thinking of those
charlatans, those so-called witches, with their useless ointments
and charms and their farcical attempts at magic. Real magic is a
power that is gifted by the gods of the underworld to select
people, used to reap more power for the benefit of the individual
and to smite his enemies.” He shuddered in almost orgasmic delight
at his own words. His acolytes shuddered a few seconds after him,
several emitting soft moans of desire. He smiled at them, pleased
with the display. “See how closely we’re bonded? They feel every
tiny bit of my pleasure as I feel their pain.”

“Pain?”

“Some suffering is required for me to
increase my puissance.”

“Your
what
?” asked Farrell.

“Security Officer, I can’t say I’m surprised
by your ignorance. You really do need to expand your vocabulary.
Maybe I can suggest reading a newspaper, or if you’re feeling
ambitious, even the occasional book? I understand the local
library’s a good place to start.”

Farrell’s jaw tightened, but he didn’t allow
himself to be taunted into responding, demonstrating again his
great professionalism. In his place, I probably would have told
Malefic to jam his fancy words up his fancy arse – not
professional, I agree, but a great deal more satisfying than merely
ignoring the jerk.

“What did you mean by suffer?” I asked, to
take the heat off Farrell. “What do you do to them?”

“Nothing they’re not willing to endure for
their master. There’s but a minute distance between great pain and
great pleasure. I’d be more than happy to demonstrate to you one
day.”

“Only if you’re the one on the rack and I’m
the one turning the handle.”

“Oh Matilda, you delight me.”

“What it boils down to is that you’re here to
smell the virgins so you can get your rocks off? Sounds seriously
pervy to me.”

“You’re being deliberately provocative,
Matilda. Not to say that doesn’t have its attractions, but it’s all
about timing and topic and you’re off base here.”

“Mr Malefic?” Miriam queried nervously from
the doorway, not wanting to get too close to him. “Can we have a
few minutes of your time to discuss your stage setup preferences
for the debate?”

He nodded graciously and limped into the
hall, his acolytes surrounding him and ready to assist him if
requested.

The organisers rearranged the audience chairs
again and set up the debate furniture on stage under contradictory
orders from the two debaters. The attendees finished their lunches,
made last minute dashes to the bathroom, and settled themselves
back inside.

While all that was talking place, Farrell and
I snarfed up some leftover sandwiches and fruit from the ransacked
platters on the tables in the foyer. I drank a glass of orange
juice dry, not wanting to leave Malefic unsupervised for a second.
I didn’t want to return inside the hall to find everyone there
turned into his acolyte zombies. Or finding him randomly ‘donating’
his seed amongst them.
Ick!

But everything was in order and proceeding
normally, the attendees safely unmolested by Malefic’s seed and
quietly chatting to each other. Malefic and Griffin argued over
seat placement and who should be first speaker. Being a small
space, it was soon obvious the stage would be hard pressed to fit
two such enormous egos on at one time.

In the end, Tom settled the argument by
flipping a coin. Griffin won and chose to go first, which gave him
the advantage of capturing the audience’s attention at the
beginning. But it also left Malefic with the advantage of having
the final word in his rebuttal. Each man seemed satisfied with his
choice.

“Isn’t it strange that two men should be
debating the benefits of chastity, when they’ll mostly be alluding
to women when they speak,” I said. “I mean, let’s not kid ourselves
that this virginity movement is mostly directed at young women, to
keep them pure for their future husbands.”

“When I look around the hall, I see equal
numbers of men and women.”

“Come on, Hugh. Open your eyes. That Griffin
man was all about the importance of girls remaining pure, but was
hypocritically tolerant of boys not doing the same, because as you
know, ‘boys will be boys’. The double standards make me sick.”

“But you wouldn’t sit in judgement on a young
girl who decided to keep her virginity intact for her future
marriage.”

“Of course I wouldn’t. It’s very much a
personal choice. And as long as the girl has made the decision for
herself, it’s a truly important value to her, and she isn’t being
coerced or guilted or brain-washed into that decision, I have no
issue at all. After all, it’s none of my business if she does
choose that. I just dislike the hypocrisy of older men, who
probably have lived it up in their time and spend every second
night jacking off to internet porn, preaching chastity to girls.
It’s better if all teens learn about healthy sexual relationships
and contraception
before
they start being sexually
active.”

“Teenage pregnancies aren’t going to
disappear.”

“I know, but teens could be made more aware
of their options. And it’s easy to pick on single mothers, but when
do you hear people castigating the fathers who’ve pissed off on
them, leaving them to raise their children themselves?”

“Not all men are like that, Chalmers. Many of
us cherish our children. Or would if we had any.”

“I know. My own father and my brothers are,
or will be, the same. I’m probably being a hot head, but it’s one
of those red-button issues for me.”

“You hide it well,” he said, faintly
sarcastic.

We watched while Harriet scuttled around the
stage, continually rearranging the furniture to the satisfaction of
the debaters. Every time she was forced to pass by Malefic, she
gave him a wide berth. Of course he noticed, relishing, as always,
his ability to make ordinary people uncomfortable in his
presence.

“Do you think he’ll cause any problems?”
Farrell asked.

“He’s definitely here to stir up trouble.
He’ll get under Griffin’s skin for sure. Last time he did that, he
picked the wrong person and he ended up with some bullet wounds for
his trouble.”

“That explains the limping and the cane. I
thought maybe they were affectations.”

“He’s certainly turned his adversity into
affectations. I’m surprised he’s walking around so well. That
bullet in his stomach must have caused a bit of damage, let alone
the one in his leg.”

“It’s like you conjure these sorts of people
up.”

“If I conjured him up, it was from the dark
recesses of my nightmares. I’m still wondering what his ulterior
motive is in being here. While he’ll no doubt enjoy needling that
pompous git, Griffin, that can’t be the only reason he’s come here
today. I don’t recall seeing any news stories about him being out
in public since he was shot. And he’d be fairly newsworthy,
considering Turbot and Tank’s counsel are in argument with the
prosecution about the date of their trial and the media are all
over that at the moment.”

“Could it be something to do with the
virgins? He seems quite interested in them. Do you think they’re in
any danger from him?”

“Possibly. He did seem enthusiastic about
harnessing their purity.”

“I thought that was just a load of crap.”

“Well, in a way, it is and it isn’t. It
sounds like ridiculous posturing to us, but to him it signifies
something very important, which is the real worry. If he believes
he needs virgin purity to unlock greater putrescence or whatever he
said, then maybe he’ll stop at nothing to get what he wants.”