The fire cast long dancing shadows on the walls of the cathedral. Inside of the holy ground of the Vatican now resided the Prince of Lust. Unlike the other demon princes, this one had brought with it two lesser demons, Temptation and Enticement. They flitted through the shadows in their true forms, incomprehensible to humans. The Prince had yet to settle on a form, needing the desires of a mortal to choose.
“Shameful the decadence of these so called pious humans. There are many influences from my brethren here.” The Prince hissed. The lesser demons growled and hissed in agreement. The demon Prince paused,
“There is a human in these walls.” The lesser demons dissipated into the shadows and the Prince of Lust extinguished the flames in the braziers, plunging the cathedral into darkness. It watched from the darkness as a human, dressed in tattered white robes stumbled out from the pews.
“C…ciao?” the human stammered. The Prince commanded the demons to stay hidden. It assumed the form of a woman, dressed in a long velvety purple robe, a hood covering her face.
“Buonasera,” She said, her voice filling the dark halls. She stepped forward and one of the braziers ignited again, casting light on her. The man fell backwards onto one of the pews,
“Chi sei?” The man asked but the Prince did not answer, pulling back her hood and allowing the firelight to illuminate her form. Her breasts strained against the tight fitting bodice and the robes seemed to mold themselves around her figure. She stepped forward and grabbed the man’s hand, kneeling down and looking up at him from the floor. The Prince could hear his heartbeat, sense the adrenaline flooding his system and the hormones spiking in his brain. The Prince altered the chemistry of the form it had chosen, releasing pheromones. The man’s pupils dilated and his breathing became more ragged. She caressed his hand and lifted it to her lips, gently kissing the top of his hand. The man flinched but did not withdraw it. She kissed down his hand to his fingertips before taking his finger into her mouth, maintaining eye contact as she enveloped and wrapped her tongue around it. The man pulled back and she smirked, standing and using her knee to push the man’s legs apart. His eyes widened but he did not resist.
“È così solitario qui, non è vero?” she asked. The man nodded as she straddled him, placing one hand on each shoulder. She could feel his erection straining through his robes and against hers. She had him where she wanted him. She gently kissed his forehead and tightened her grip on his shoulders, eliciting a soft moan from the priest. Then, with one hand, she tilted his chin up to look at her, pausing and looking into his eyes,
“Addio.” She whispered as she gripped his jaw and twisted, rending it from his flesh. The man let out a strangled sort of gasp as the blood flooded his mouth and spilled out over the torn flesh and snapped bone. The Prince tossed the jawbone to the shadows where Temptation and Enticement descended upon it with a fevered glee. With a second fluid motion, the Prince sliced through the flesh, sinew and bone that held the man’s head on, decapitating him and pulling his head from the bloody stump. She tossed it into the fire as she stood up from the body, allowing it to slump over in the pew, dark red blood spilling across the worn wood and seeping into the stone floors.
“Decades of empire building and yet humans are undone so easily. Disappointing.” The Prince said, reverting to its original language and form. “You can have the body.” Ear-piercing shrieks shattered the quiet as the two demons descended upon the flesh, tearing it into pieces and consuming it, the cracking of bones and wet tears of sinew and muscle filling the cathedral.
From outside, Mateo listened to the hellish shrieks coming from the Basilica. He pulled his jacket more tightly around himself and covered his ears, hurrying past as he made his way towards the chapel he had claimed as home following the end of the war. He pushed open the oaken door and then pushed it back into place, sealing out the outside world. Inside his eyes strained to adjust against the dimming candlelight.
“Mama?” he called.
“Over here, Mateo,” she called from the corner where her pallet of blankets and various fabrics was set up. He walked over and grabbed her hands,
“Mateo, you are frightened. What happened?” she asked, brushing aside his bangs with her hand and feeling his forehead.
“Something terrible is in the Basilica, Mama,” he whispered. His mother frowned and pulled Mateo close to her,
“These are the end of times, Mateo. There will be many terrible things. But what did you see in the Basilica?” she asked as she wrapped a blanket around his shoulders,
“I did not see anything. But there was this horrible shrieking and what sounded like the gnashing of bones from inside. There were fires lit in there; the light flickered in the windows. Something has made its home inside…” His voice trailed off. His mother nodded knowingly and held him close. They were silent for a while before she leaned forward and blew out the candles,
“It is time to rest, Mateo. We will go to the Apostolic Palace tomorrow and search for any answers that his Holiness may have left behind.” She laid down and pulled a blanket around her as Mateo stood and walked over to a similarly set up pallet, laying down and staring up at the ceiling as his mind raced.
You’re a very smart boy. Not brave, but smart.
Mateo awoke with a start and strained to see in the dark chapel. He could see the outline of his mother but nothing appeared out of the ordinary. He listened in the silence and heard nothing further. He laid back down and shut his eyes again.
“Mateo.” His mother gently shook him, rousing him from his sleep. He woke slowly and sat up on the pile of blankets, rubbing his eyes and looking up at his mother. “Come, we go to the Palace now.” Mateo stood and pulled the thin gray jacket he had worn the night before over his shoulders, following his mother out of the chapel and into the streets of the Vatican. The sky was a dusky blue and the light was dim.
“Stay close,” his mother whispered, walking ahead and squinting in the low light. They walked through the streets silently, passing by St. Peter’s Basilica. Mateo felt a chill run down his spine as they walked past.
From inside the Basilica, the Prince of Lust watched the pair pass.
“Can we play with them?” Temptation asked with a shudder of anticipation. The Prince watched them longer until they disappeared from view,
“Not yet.” It replied, “They may be useful to us. Meet them in the Apostolic Palace, help them find what they’re looking for.”
“And then we kill them?” Enticement asked gleefully.
“No. And take the form of something familiar and non-threatening, a priest would be fitting. Don’t stand out,” the Prince instructed.
“Yes, my lord.” The two lesser demons vanished and the Prince lingered by the window a moment longer before melting back into the shadows.
Mateo and his mother reached the palace as the sun began to rise, its golden rays breaking through the cold blue of the dawn.
“Prophetic, isn’t it? The sun has shone on our path,” Mateo’s mother remarked. He chuckled and followed behind her as they walked into the building.
“The library shouldn’t be far,” Mateo’s mother said, walking through the hall, scanning the walls for some kind of sign that would point them in the right direction.
“It isn’t,” another voice said, startling both Mateo and his mother who instinctively grabbed his arm and pushed him behind her. From one of the rooms emerged a priest, wearing the traditional white robes with the red stole. “I did not mean to frighten you, my children, I apologize,” the priest said, bowing his head.
“I was not aware any of the priests survived and remained here,” Mateo’s mother said, narrowing her eyes as she slowly pushed Mateo back towards the door.
“Unfortunately only myself and Father Alessio remain. I am Father Lorenzo. Who do I have the pleasure of speaking with?” the priest asked.
“I am Giulia, Father. This is my son, Mateo.” Mateo looked at his mother incredulously, shocked that she would give their real names. Perhaps because of the events of last night, he found himself suspicious of the priest.
“Giulia, Mateo, welcome. The library is this way, please follow me.” Mateo looked to his mother who nodded and gestured for him to follow behind her. They walked with the priest as he led them down the hall to the library,
“This really was such a wonderful place to be before the war. Did you aspire to join the priesthood, Mateo?” the priest asked as they walked,
“Yes, Father. I was in seminary when the war began,” Mateo replied.
“Terrible times. But through our faith we remain and are guided through these times of tribulation. Ah, here we are,” the priest said, stopping at the doorway and gesturing into the room. Giulia walked into the library, followed closely by Mateo.
The library, while far from its original glory, was still breathtaking. Shelves stretched from the floor to the ceiling, filled with religious texts. Throughout the room were locked displays of manuscripts and tablets written in Latin, Hebrew, and ancient Greek. Sunlight streamed through the long glass pane windows and spirals of dust cascaded through the light.
“Father Alessio is here somewhere, but perhaps I can be of assistance?” Father Lorenzo asked. Mateo pressed his finger against his lips as he thought,
“Where would books on demons be?” he asked. Father Lorenzo’s expression became clouded,
“My child, why would you be looking for such dark materials?” he asked.
“I believe there is something evil in St. Peter’s Basilica, Father. I heard such horrible noises coming from inside last night,” Mateo replied. Father Lorenzo nodded slowly,
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
“These are the years of tribulation after all. Come,” he said. He led Mateo to one of the shelves where a glass casing with a lock shielded the books from casual onlookers. The priest took a key from inside a pocket on his robes and unlocked the casing. He looked at Mateo solemnly,
“These books contain documentation of the most evil acts and beings that have come to be on God’s green Earth. Proceed with caution. These are not fairytales or retail demonology. These are the Vatican’s true records dating back centuries.” Mateo nodded and opened the casing, looking at the worn leather-bound books. Giulia was looking in another section, flipping through a heavily annotated Book of Revelations.
“I see Father Lorenzo has already assisted you, but please let me know if anything further is needed,” another priest said, walking into the library.
“Thank you Father.” Giulia said and Mateo looked up at the second priest,
“Father, what can you tell me about the years of tribulation?” he asked. Father Alessio paused, contemplating,
“After many years of study, I can say affirmatively that we are presently in them. What I cannot answer definitively is how the years will proceed. The Vatican monitored for any sign of Rapture and there was none. But with so many dead from the war, it cannot be certain that the Rapture presented itself in a manner different from how it was described. I know this all seems cryptic, but the truth of the matter is that we are in uncertain times, my child.”
Mateo frowned, picking up one of the books, A True Account of Demonic Possession and Manifestation.
“Is it possible that demons are here in the Vatican now?” Mateo asked. Father Alessio nodded slowly though Father Lorenzo looked panicked,
“Yes, it is possible,” he answered.
“How can you kill a demon?” Mateo asked, prompting a gasp from his mother. Father Alessio chuckled and shook his head,
“Those books contain the answers but you cannot kill a demon. They are not of our world, they are fallen angels and, even the least among them, can easily beguile or overpower a human. Demons can, however, be banished back to Hell. There are different methods but…”
“Father Alessio, is this really appropriate to tell a child?” Father Lorenzo interjected nervously. Father Alessio looked at him bemusedly,
“In regular times, no. However, these times are anything but ordinary. Wouldn’t you agree, Father Lorenzo?”
Father Lorenzo scowled and waved his hand dismissively before composing himself,
“Very well. I will be in the chapel for morning prayer. I suggest that you join me, Father Alessio,” he replied curtly, turning and exiting the library. Father Alessio turned back to Mateo and smiled apologetically,
“I fear I have offended my brother. He is right or would be if this were a few years ago. You are young and innocent and should not have to think of such things, but these are trying times, Mateo. You may be called upon to do things that will test your faith. You must follow your instincts, protect yourself and your mother.”
“Yes Father,” Mateo responded. Father Alessio smiled at him again,
“You know where to find Father Lorenzo and I if you are ever in need of assistance. The Apostolic Palace is open to you. I must go make amends, please stay as long as you need.” Father Alessio left the library, following after Father Lorenzo.
Mateo opened the book in his hands, and sat on the floor, reading through the book. It was a field journal of a priest, one who had been employed by the Vatican to specifically handle demonic possession.
I was called to the home of the Van Brunts, a German family who had fled to Italy in the 1930s. They claimed that their daughter, Lyra, had suffered from fits of rage and reacted negatively towards holy items. They alleged that she had spoken in tongues and cursed the name of the Lord. I was sent by the Vatican on the 8th day of December, in the year of our Lord 1942, to determine the cause of Lyra’s ailment.
Upon arrival, I was greeted at the door by Mr. Van Brunt who showed me into the home. He explained to me that Lyra now had to be kept locked in her room for fear that she would harm her mother or one of her other siblings. I asked to speak to the other siblings and Mr. Van Brunt introduced me. A cursory inspection of the children showed no signs of demonic possession or inclination towards such. They were well-mannered and seemed fearful of their sister. I spoke with Mrs. Van Brunt who tearfully explained the situation. Lyra had been stricken ill and no doctor could diagnose her. She had run a fever for 6 days before it broke and the illness seemingly resolved on the seventh. It was a few days after Lyra recovered that her mother began to notice odd behavior from the girl. She began to become irritable with flashes of violence, throwing objects or attempting to harm those who transgressed her. Initially, the parents believed it to be the effects of pubescence. But one night, her mother entered Lyra’s room and found her on the floor, foaming at the mouth. Upon attempted resuscitation, Lyra began to speak in a guttural unknown language, growling and hissing. The strange behaviors had only increased in frequency since then. According to the parents, when approached with a holy object such as a crucifix, Lyra will become apoplectic and attempt to attack the holder of such an object.
I asked to see Lyra and Mr. Van Brunt led me up the stairs to her room. He unlocked the door and pushed it open. Inside was dark, Lyra had extinguished the candles and was sitting facing the wall, her back to the door. I stepped inside. \
“I know why you’re here, Father Cristiano,” Lyra intoned, but the voice was not one of a little girl. It was deep, guttural, otherworldly. I knew I was speaking with a demon.
“Release the girl,” I replied. The demon, through Lyra, laughed. Lyra turned her head, bending her neck at an unnatural angle to face me.
“You will have to take her from me,” the demon stated. I took from my briefcase the Bible and a crucifix, reciting the rites of banishment, excoriating the demon. It had a negligible effect.
“You are new to this, Father Cristiano. The Vatican was foolish to believe this was another case of hysteria.” I knew then that I was dealing with a truly powerful demon. It knew, without prompting, that the Vatican had not considered this to be a case worthy of exorcism. Indeed, this would be my first without assistance from a more experienced priest.
“Nevertheless I will cast you out of this child,” I replied, reciting the Lord’s Prayer and sprinkling holy water onto the child. The demon hissed but, again, the effect was negligible.
“I will not leave this body unless another is offered.” It growled. Lyra turned towards me fully, her eyes wild. I prayed silently, beseeching the Lord for protection.
“God cannot help you.” The demon growled and Lyra began to scramble towards me on all fours. I jumped back and slammed the bedroom door, hearing the demon growl as it strained and clawed at the wood. Lyra’s father locked the door once more. I apologized profusely and left the home, vowing to return with someone more experienced than I.
I returned to the hotel in which I was staying and placed a call to the Holy City from the hotel’s phone. I spoke with Father Vincente and explained to him the circumstances. It was then that he informed me that to banish a demon, you must know its true name. Finding the demon’s name was not easy. If it was not recorded in the tomes held at the Vatican, then I would need to engage it in a game that, were I to win, it would have to give me its name. This, Father Vincente warned, was incredibly dangerous and I would have to wager either my life or my soul, making defeat untenable. I sought his advice on ways to best the demon and gain its name but he insisted that I return to the Vatican after further documentation.
Mateo flipped through several pages, skimming the details of the priest’s night at the hotel during which he had dreams of the demon. He stopped upon reaching the entry that described the priest’s return to the Van Brunt home.
I arrived at the residence of the Van Brunts once more, having spent several days back in the Vatican scouring our libraries. With assistance from Father Vincente, I had determined the name of the demon possessing Lyra. This was the demon Mastemah, harbinger of calamity. I approached Lyra’s room and entered, finding the girl seated in the corner once more. Lyra turned to face me and a hideous grin burst across her face,
“You have returned Father,” she intoned in the guttural deep voice of the demon inhabiting her.
“The Power of Christ compels thee to leave this child. Your name is known to me. You are the demon Mastemah, harbinger of calamity, father of destruction, flatterer of the Lord.” I held a crucifix out in front of my body. The name clearly was correct as the demon recoiled and, for a moment, I saw a flash of Lyra emerge from the possession.
“Your name is known to me, Mastemah. I rebuke thee and cast thee back to the depths of hell from whence you came. Mastemah, father of destruction, the earth condemns you. The salt and sulfur of hell shall reclaim you. Mastemah, I condemn and banish thee. In the name of the Father, the Son, and the Holy Spirit, I cast thee to the depths from whence you came.”
With each intonation of the rites, I moved forward with the crucifix, one specifically blessed by his Holiness, and sprinkled Holy Water upon Lyra’s body. The demon growled and strained, writhing within Lyra’s body. Upon the final word, I pressed the blessed crucifix upon Lyra’s forehead. An inhuman shriek came from her lips, nearly splitting my ear drums. Then she went limp in my arms. When her eyes opened again, she was free from the clutches of the demon and the parents thanked me profusely. Upon collecting their graciously offered tithe, I returned to the Holy City and submitted this manuscript to the Diocese for recording.
Mateo closed the book as his mother approached him with two books in her arms.
“These are heretical texts, Mateo. But I feel as though they may be of use to us,” she said, handing the tomes to him.
Mateo looked at the weathered covers, one bearing the title Malleus Maleficarum and the other De Occulta Philosophia. Both texts predated the 17th century and, from what he remembered from seminary, they were considered heretical though often used by exorcists under the guidance of the diocese.
“Should we ask the priests if we can take these with us?” Mateo asked. Giulia shook her head.
“I don’t trust them,” she whispered. Mateo was shocked; his mother had always been incredibly devout, nearly to a fault. The idea that she would not entrust a priest would never have crossed his mind. Even as scandals had rocked the Catholic Church, Giulia had held her faith and respect.
“Why mama?” Mateo asked. Giulia held her finger to her lips and shook her head,
“We will speak on this at the chapel.” She replied, taking the books back from Mateo and tucking them under her arm. Mateo grabbed the journal he had been reading and the pair exited the library, walking back through the hallway and out of the palace. Giulia was quiet and walked briskly ahead, not speaking until they had re-entered the chapel and shut the door behind them.
“Mateo, do we have salt?” Giulia asked. Mateo shrugged and set down the book he was carrying before searching their supplies. He found a large, half-filled canister of salt which he handed to his mother. She took it, uttered a prayer, and poured a thick line of it at the doorway,
“Take care to replenish this line at night, Mateo,” she said firmly. Mateo nodded.
“Mama, what is going on?” he asked. Giulia sighed and sat on the pile of blankets that served as her bed.
“I do not believe those two men to be priests, Mateo. Nor do I believe them to even be human,” she said. Mateo sat beside her.
“Why not? They helped us today. A demon wouldn’t do that, right?” he asked. Giulia looked at her son and grabbed his hands.
“Promise me that, no matter what happens, you will protect yourself.” Mateo felt a sense of unease as she said this.
“Mama, what is going on?” he asked nervously, but Giulia shook her head.
“Promise me Mateo,” she repeated.
“I promise,” he replied and Giulia smiled, squeezing his hands before releasing them.
“You’re a good boy. Don’t do anything stupid,” she said before handing him the Malleus Maleficarum.
“Read through it and study the protection methods. I have a feeling we’ll be needing them.”
Mateo sat down and began reading through the book, looking at its occult drawings and reading through the dichotomization of witches.
“Mama?” He asked, not looking up from the book.
“Hmm?” she responded. Mateo looked up, seeing her seated on the pallet and reading through the De Occulta Philosophia,
“This book is about witches. Aren’t we more concerned about dealings with demons?”
“Their power comes from the same place, Mateo. And I have a feeling we are likely to encounter both,” she replied. Mateo thought for a moment before nodding and going back to his reading. The times of tribulation would be strange indeed.