Preys & Predators IV; Monster and Witches Chapter 32

 

32.

 

The dean studied the arrangement of the stones and artifacts set at the base of the menhirs. He had spent over eight years collecting the items. It was on the instruction of the warlock, who claimed that he held the ancient scrolls written by the druids to call on the pinnacle of power.

Ancient Druids practiced the oral tradition and did not leave behind any known written holy texts, scriptures, or records. There were some second-hand accounts by Greek and Roman contemporaries, as well as later medieval Irish literature like the External Classical Sources (Roman/Greek), which provide the earliest, albeit biased, descriptions of Druidic worship, and Julius Caesar, who took an interest in druids and his commentary in ‘Commentarii de Bello Gallico.’ Others were Tacitus, who mentions the destruction of Druid groves on Mona (Anglesey).

Some scrolls, written in Ogham, an early medieval alphabet (4th-6th century CE), were found, but Ogham was also used to inscribe stones and wood, believed to reflect older, pre-Christian traditions. The Celtic literature has its forms in triads: three-part wisdom.

But the ones that were widely spoken of were the oral hymns.

The Dean had recovered many of these texts in the library, but none could meet the Warlock on his own findings.

“Mine are the true texts from the ancients. Its findings came from the works of divination of the elders.” The Warlock had reinforced his beliefs in the scroll. “It spoke of the incantations to yield the pinnacle of power.”

“For it to work, the circle must be formed with huge stones to collect the focus of the energy and the items to filter it so that I can channel it into me.” The Warlock had declared. “Once I hold the pinnacle of power, the supreme power will be mine.”

“Why his particular lunar event?” Carly, the mortician, asked. He is a witch of the coven, and with his official position, he was their source for bodily parts.

“Carly, you wished to mock me.” The warlock smites at the other. “I have been looking for the source. The lunar event, in which the ever-powerful sun could be shielded by the meek moon, was displaced as the alignment of the planets. I searched beyond that.”

“The ancients often interpreted the changing face of the moon, particularly during eclipses or full moons, as signs of cosmic, divine, or malevolent activity. The Mesopotamians viewed it as a direct assault on the king. The monarch was protected with a "substitute king," while the real king went into hiding until the danger passed. The Inca viewed it quite the same: the jaguar attacking and devouring the moon. For that, they feared the jaguar would then fall to Earth, so they made loud noises, shook spears, and beat their dogs to make them howl and scare the beast away. Many others had taken it as an omen of destruction.”

“What I was to learn, the coming event is not an omen but the channel of power. The learned covens had waited for this event. It also falls on the fifth day of the week and on the thirteenth Georgian date, at precisely the thirteenth hour. Truly the matching of the signs signifies its greatness.”

“It was not only the alignment but also the tools in which to focus the power.” The Warlock told the Dean. “You must not fail me. Get me the needed items for that event.”

The dean had spent his time sourcing the items via auctions, private sponsors, or theft when it was needed. The menhirs were the same; they were shipped in from the continent and assembled there. The Uni was proud to tell the peers that this was an alternative to Stonehenge, but many had refuted the claim of its mystic nature. The menhirs were paraded in the circular structure, but the smaller items were stored in the Uni’s storage till that day.

“Put that stone there.” The dean told the aide. He then looked at the shadow of the sunlight as it lay on the east side. There was little time left.

“Dean, are we ready?” Gertrude stepped up to the man.

“We will be. I have no reference to the …….”

“Trust the Warlock. He knew what was needed.” Gertrude smiled. “He gave you a list and……”

“It was done.” The dean nodded.

“Have you checked the alignment of the menhirs?” Gertrude asked.

“Do not tell me of my tasks, bitch. I know my tasks.” The dean was insulted to be questioned. “I do not intrude on whom you may suck of their vitality.”

“Obviously, I have my needs.” Gertrude smiled. “And yours is pathetic.”

Gertrude stepped away and walked to the exit of the faculty. She saw standing there was her next target. He was godlike standing there.

The Adonis for her desire.

It was not the desire then of Victor to pursue his task. He felt the tap on his shoulder.

“Move slowly, Frankenstein. I got you covered.” Victor heard the voice and with his side glance saw the rifle barrel aimed at Mary, still crouched there at the grave.

“Do not shoot, Doctor.” Victor whispered back. “She is not a threat.”

“Oh, doame” (Oh my God in Romanian.) Doctor Abraham uttered when he was asked for prayer. His religious master was a Romanian and taught him some good verses to say when in fright. “I thought I had seen all forms of monster.”

“Shoot the rifle, and I will make you a cripple.” Doctor Abraham felt the threat of the barrel at his spine. It was Sven who was standing behind him.

“Mary, leave now.” Sven called out. “They will harm you.”

“No, I will not. I want to be with Henry,” Mary said. “All of you leave, or I will……”

“Do not do that.” It was the voice of Carmilla. “Remember me. I was with you that night.”

“You……” Mary turned to look at Carmilla. The lady was with her sister, Annabelle, and flanked by Lauren and Abel with Rudolf. At the side to the right was Kane holding his frame against the cottage wall.

“Mother of God, what is that abomination?” Kane shouted. “Father, shoot it.”

“Silence, Kane,” Doctor Abraham shouted back. “Get back inside.”

“Let us not be ……. Hasty.” Victor straightened up. He looked at the creation; at that moment it was his creation once more, and not Mary's.

“That is my creation. My version of a living person, assembled from the body anatomies given to me. I had brought it to live, and ………. But how I am unsure.” Victor sighed. “God’s miracle perhaps.”

“Master, I am alive.” Mary stood up. “I am Mary.”

“Calm down, Mary.” Carmilla stepped towards the creation. “You are ……. Alive. I gave you my essence to reanimate you.”

“Do not come near me.” Mary held out her arms at Carmilla. “I ……. I am Mary. I want Henry too.”

“Run, Mary! Do it!” Sven called out. “Please……”

Mary gave one look at Sven and then turned to leave. She dashed off into the woods. Victor wanted to chase after her but was stopped by the doctor.

“Let her be, Frankenstein.” The doctor looked at the departing creation. “We got other tasks.”

The doctor led Victor to the lab. Carmilla looked to the skies and motioned to Annabelle.

“It is time for us to go inside too. The sunlight is upon us.” The witches retreated to the cottage. Rudolf followed suit, leaving Lauren with the lads.

“Abel, let us go back in.” Lauren assisted Abel, who was still limping. They were watched by Kane then. He was in disbelief at the turn of events. He looked at the departing duo and sighed. It was not his usual self to lose out to Abel on anything. Ever since he was young, Kane had been the elder one, calling the shots for his brother. He was unsure who was first at birth, but Kane was always deemed the eldest. They did not have any other siblings and grew up together, holding all others off from them with their fists. Kane was the brazen one with the flaring temper, while Abel was more the support. Where the fights were, Abel picked his opponents and delivered good blows, while Kane was the bull in the ring. Despite all that, Abel regarded his brother highly and followed him in all the quests.

“He is ……. sympathetic,” Kane muttered to himself. He had envied the younger brother, smaller in frame compared to himself, but held his own in the fights.

Kane then looked to the grave.  The hand that was protruded there had withdrawn back. He asked himself what the abomination was there. He had not seen any corpse climb out of the grave, although there were rumors of it; his father had dismissed them as tales. He stepped over and looked at the spot where the hand had appeared. He found some soil that was moved, but no hand was seen there. He looked towards the glass vase and saw a dead man’s face. He had seen his share of dead persons and even exhumed graves, but nothing was to prepare him for the sight. The figure in there was staring at him.

Kane stepped back in fright.

“His name is Henry. He is my… or was my son.” Sven spoke from the side. “Who are you?”

“Huh… Kane Helsing. I am here with my father and brother.” Kane, still in shock, looked at Sven. “How long were you there?”

“Long enough. I did not join them if that was your question. I am to be with my son.” Sven stepped up to the grave. He smoothens the soil at the spot where the hand was seen.

“I may suggest that you rejoin then.” Sven looked at Kane.

“Who? My brother or my father?” Kane asked while he glanced at the cottage. “I……”

“Whichever makes you comfortable.” Sven smiled.

“No, I want to go back to the town.” Kane turned to walk towards the town. Sven proceeded to the lab and saw the doctor was busy at work, watched by Victor. He approached Victor and asked to speak to him outside.