12/11/2011
A short Halloween story by FEDERICA LEVA
SACRILEGE
The candle flames twitched and died, and darkness swallowed the old book laying wide open on the table, returning the whispers of dark secrets― penned in ancient languages― to the children of the night so that no human eye could desecrate them. Beyond the window, summer lightning was tearing at the shroud of the night.
That was the sign Loris had been waiting for. Getting up, he walked to the cabinet in a corner of the room and opened the door.
"It will not rain, Aldo," he said. The grinning skull of the skeleton sitting inside the cabinet answered with the dry sound of bone grating against bone.
"Don't worry. We 'll be there. He'll come too."
The skeleton slammed the jaw closed― a language of death― and Loris shook his head.
"No, I do not have time to repair the lighting system. I have to study, and if you just helped me, instead of complaining needlessly...! Come on, it's late!"
He picked up the book, setting it under his arm, and went out into the courtyard. His car was waiting motionless under a knotted willow, a black lump in the blindness of the night.
He settled Aldo on the seat beside him, with the book open on his slender legs, and he left.
They descended the hill, buffeted by the glimmer of distant lightning, and drove along a countryside dirt road. The curved oak boughs were shaking in the wind and the ghostly figures that hung, wriggling, from the lower branches rushed howling through the windshield. Aldo protested, nervously but Loris did not seem to care. Lost in thought, every now and then he would leaf through the book, marking a few words with his finger while whispering some Latin words. Tamed by that rare magic, the oak demons calmed down and retired into the darkness.
Finally, the wood opened up and the headlights sharply framed a figure waiting by the roadside.
Loris moved Aldo to the back seat as a pale young man got in on the passenger seat, beside him.
"You're late." He remarked, his voice hoarse.
"Did you bring the candles?" asked Loris. "I've got only two. Not enough for the whole night."
"I have a flashlight. If we need more light, we'll borrow a candle from some co**se. "
The car jumped and rocked driving down a path fit only for freight carts drawn by horses.
In the distance, the soft eyes of the cemetery watched them curiously, twinklin like malignant stars. At that moment, the two boys left the woods behind and reached the city streets.
"Loris! With Simon and Aldo! "
The pub window curtain was pulled back as young man looked out at the flashing lights of Loris' car, clearly visible in the darkness.
"Where?"
"Down there, at the traffic light...!», a blonde girl pointed at the crossroads. "I saw Aldo’s silhouette framed by the lights... My God! I feel sick... "
“It is true, Mark, look," cried the other boy, laughing. "It's them. But where the heck are they going at this hour, on a Saturday night? "
“To a dark gathering," another girl gasped, shuddering. "A satanic ritual... No, Andrew, forget about it... I know that expression...!”
She crossed herself and kissed the silver crucifix she carried around her neck. Mark crushed his cigarette in the ashtray and jumped up excitedly.
"I know where they're going: to the abandoned cemetery outside the city. They spoke about this a few days ago, at the school cafeteria, and about desecrating old graves... "
“Loris is crazy!" The blonde girl groaned. "He has no family, he studies in the light of candles, travels in a car with a fake skeleton and speaks to him...!»
Andrea laughed, throwing back the lock of unruly hair that fell on the forehead. "Intriguing," he said. "Let’s not waste any more time. In the car!"
In the cemetery, every breath was permeated with darkness and silence.
They had waited for more than an hour―exhibiting a boldness they were far from feeling―before entering; somewhere, a bell was tolling… it was midnight.
They advanced cautiously. The pebbles on the path, stirred by their feet, raised a screeching cry in the night.
“Are we sure that they came here? "Mark whispered, and the blonde girl shuddered, clinging to his arm.
"Look down, there...!», she gasped. "A light!"
Even Andrea's voice cracked a little: "Mark..."
"Yes... I will go on alone, if you're afraid."
"No, we are with you. But it could be dangerous... "
Mark stood still, listening. "I don't hear litanies. Isn’that odd? Perhaps they are alone."
They started cautiously, in small steps, keeping in the shadows of the gravestones. Once they got near enough, they stopped.
The silence was broken by whispers and by the rustle of pages evoking ancient times, humidity and hidden mysteries.
Mark leaned forward between two graves, but all he saw was an open book in the halo of a few candles gathered in a circle, and a skull placed on the musty pages.
He clung to a wooden cross stretching its arms between the wild shrubs, and he finally managed to glimpse Loris’ foot: he was kneeling before a tomb as if it were an altar.
“I see him," he whispered excitedly. "I don’t understand what he is doing, but maybe it's better to go back ... AHH! "
As the old cross snapped, Mark hit a vase of rotten flowers and, still screaming, he crashed on the path.
Stifling a curse, Loris jumped up and picked the torch. Stunned, Mark blinked, protecting his eyes from its searing brightness.
Simon was sleeping on a large book, and Aldo was lying abandoned in a corner, a string hanging from the jaw and on its lap.
They had opened a hundred years old unmarked tomb, and bones bleached white by worms and time were scattered all around them, while an overwhelming stench of death hung in the air.
Loris advanced threateningly as Andrew helped Mark up. They retreated.
The torch light was hitting them fully in the face, blinding them.
And from beyond the glow, startled, came Loris’ voice: "Andrew, Mark... you here to get ready for the anatomy test too?"
