Lady Sativa (31 page)

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Authors: Frank Lauria

BOOK: Lady Sativa
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“Let that evil in us become like dust scattered before the wind. And let the Angel of the Lord come down to cause the darkness to vanish. We shall be protected by the power of Omega, Ely, Sady... It is the Lord who sent Satan crashing like a thunderbolt from His kingdom. He has given us the power to destroy the beasts of evil. We shall be protected by the power of Elion, Tetragrammaton, Jah, Adonay, and Sady… ”

As the melodic chant rose louder in the stifling enclosure, Orient thought he could see the blood-masked grimace on Carl’s face relax and soften.

Germaine held a square of white paper over the body. “Just as thy names are bound in this pentagram so will thy evil be burned.” He placed the paper in the casket. “In the name of
Tetragrammaton!
Thy will be forced O spirit Carl Bestman into that fire and redeemed. In the name ANEXHEXETON! PRIMEMATUM!”

He roared out the last two words and Orient felt the air in the room congeal into a thick field of static electricity. Blue sparks spat across the shadows and the restless crackle of swelling energy filled the small vault.

“Get back near the door,” Germaine grunted wearily. He lifted the container from the floor and poured the gasoline over the body, ignoring the spattering electricity.

Orient backed up slowly, feeding his light on the casket so Germaine would have a path to the door.

The count flung the container against the wall and leaped away just as one of the sparks burst near the casket, touching off the gasoline.

Carl’s body erupted like a tree of flame as the entire crypt began to bloom with bright, silent, flowers of fire.

Orient staggered through the door as a rush of heat evaporated the cold sweat on his face. Germaine stumbled out behind him.

They stood side by side, watching the flames mount higher. The intense light flickering at the open door sent long, wildly dancing shadows across the frosted ground.

“Life clings to life for its own sake,” Germaine said softly. “Even though Carl’s existence was torment his emanation would have continued to feed, if only to sustain its hold on eternity.” He shrugged and jammed his hands into his pockets. “Well now he’s free,” he grunted, “and so will I be someday.”

He turned and began walking slowly back through the darkness.

Orient couldn’t take his eyes away from the blaze that filled the door of the vault. He knew the pain, and ceaseless fear, of Carl’s existence. The parched, shriveled, vicious remnant of humanity was part of him now. And the memory would last beyond his life.

The knowledge stuffed his heart with weariness as he turned away from the flames and followed Germaine down the steep, ice-crusted hill.
 

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