Tarot

Aria: Emanations of the Devil

2007-08-27T00:00:00.001-07:00

(Page 3 of ??)

Cathedral of the Madeleine; Salt Lake City, Utah
Saturday, February 20
7:34 AM

After the land purchase in 1900 CE, the first Catholic bishop of Salt Lake City, the Right Reverend Lawrence Scarian, led construction on the Cathedral of the Madeleine. Its architects, Carl Neuthausen and Bernard Mecklenburg, completed the construction nine years later. At a price of almost ten million dollars, it became one of the most beautiful holy sites in the state.

Today, its fantastic stained glass windows pour filtered light through the resurrection of the executed Christ, among other biblical pieces. Further in the building a small office holds two men. They hover over photos of death and quickly written reports. Reports that explained the everyman: a brother, a son, a husband. Reports that guaranteed there would be more victims tomorrow.

The print of half accurate news clippings left dark stains on the Alistair’s fingers, but the words could only hint at the horrors filling the mind of the killer. Ink would be easier to wash away than memory, but he and the priest studied the text with intensity. Shadows struck the walls of the locked room, the lamp on the desk shedding little light on the darkness the papers spoke of.

Alistair closed one of the many files that lie before him, slipping the article inside. He rubbed the back of his neck as he sat back in his chair. Looking at the crucifix that hung from the priest’s rosary, he noticed it was slightly altered from the norm. A curious symbol or letter in gold was carved into its design, along with the words “in hoc signo vinces.” His eyes wandered away from the decoration, his mind too engulfed in a different mystery.

“Father, I’ve gotta’ tell ya’, I’m not sure why you want me in on this one.” He motioned to the bottle of scotch on the priest’s desk, acknowledging the desire to cloud his mind.

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Aria: Emanations of the Devil

2007-08-20T00:00:00.001-07:00

(Page 2 of ??)

“She had these bruises. Dark and alien on her pale skin. She couldn’t speak; the cloth they used to gag her cut into the sides of her cheeks. Her mouth was swollen. She made this terrible rasping noise when she breathed.” His voice remained icy calm as he spoke. His eyes glistened with tears. “Her hands were black from being bound too tightly for so long. And her eyes… dear god in heaven….

“And all she did to deserve it was fall in love with me.

“I stayed with her until the end. It wasn’t very long. Yet, she didn’t smell the same. More like a dying piece of flesh, or an animal locked in a cage its entire life. Then, she….” His voice trailed off briefly.

“I still haven’t quite let go of her.”

His arm held her close drawing her nearer. It was as if, had he the ability, he would make themselves one. His hand felt the soft skin of her stomach. His chin rested next to hers. He felt the remaining warmth of her body slipping, like a dying fire.

“It is so long ago now, but I was in love once. And he was all that was left of her.”

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Aria: Emanations of the Devil

2007-08-13T00:00:00.001-07:00

(Page 1 of ??)

Peter Stübbe’s Residence; Salt Lake City, Utah
Saturday, February 19
5:03 PM

Gently he peeled the rest of her clothing away from the limp body. Her skin glistened with sweat; slowly drying as it cooled. She passed before he even finished feeding from her. Disappointing really, she was barely able to handle the effects of absinthe, let alone the consequences of his lust.

The pain in his head was subsiding as he ran his fingers across the curve of her form. “There are so few things left in this world that bring me pleasure.” He spoke as he pulled his body close to hers. “The taste of a good wine. The strange dreams brought on by the wormwood. Making love to a beautiful woman.

“I’ve bartered my soul for the power that infernal spirits offered. I have spent restless nights hearing the voice of my grandmother as she begged me to help her escape hell. I once tasted the blood of my enemy as I sucked his eyes from their sockets. I took such pleasure and delight in the shedding of blood, that I would night and day work such extreme cruelties . . .. The damnable things they said I did, though. To children no less.” He sighed, “I wonder sometimes if the world is mad, or if it is I.”

He wrapped his arm around her naked body and nuzzled his face in the crook of her neck. They lay, spooned together like two lovers, as he spoke.

“I was in love once. It’s so long ago now that I can barely remember her face. Ah, but the way she smelt. Do you know that scent the air has just before a summer rain? Wet with anticipation, a charge of electricity flowing through the breeze? It seeps into your skin and fills your lungs in an ecstasy of calm. Its flavor is more fresh than a newly blossomed bud, but you know that it is only the beginning of something violent. Katharine smelled like that.

“No one else smells quite that way.” He drew his lips close to her ear, speaking softly to her absent soul, “But you know, when I found her that day… they raped her. I don’t know how many.

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2007-07-02T00:00:00.000-07:00

The Six of Cups

In addition to the peaceful serenity of sentimentality, this card is representative of the milky blur memory seems to have, when viewed through emotion.

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Author's Notes: The Tarot

Prelude: Piazza di San Pietro

2007-06-25T00:00:00.000-07:00

(Page 20 of 20)

Aeroporto Internazionale di Napoli; Naples, Italy
Sunday, February 20
9:02 AM

Cheval de Loa awoke, the plastic seat below him hard and cold. He found himself uncomfortable in the stained suit he was wearing, but no less so than by the fact that he was in the Aeroporto Internazionale di Napoli. His arms were folded around the ticket, holding it close to his chest. His eyes darted from person to person as they passed, unsure of how he’d gotten here and terrified by the prospect of going back.

They would make him read the signs again; make him speak with the spirits. He would be punished for running from his responsibilities, but he didn’t remember leaving. He didn’t remember anything that occurred over the past four days.

Abandoned Hospital; Naples/Pozzuli, Italy
Sunday, February 20
9:02 AM

Samantha punched the red sigil-engraved button next to the oven’s doorway. Blue flame lit inside the machine, roaring as it dined on the flesh of the final body—that of Demetrius. Inside the Stygian stove, Demetrius felt the blaze split his skin and sear little hairs. Death, his old friend, had at last returned. As his spirit filled the rising smoke, the incense of his earthly form, he willed a final mantra to his god—Iä! Shub-Niggurath! Iä! Shub-Niggurath!

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Author's Notes: Mapping the Beast

Prelude: Piazza di San Pietro

2007-06-18T00:00:00.000-07:00

(Page 19 of 20)

Abandoned Hospital; Naples/Pozzuli, Italy
Sunday, February 20
9:02 AM

The Kabbalist, Rabbi Micha, and the Karaite, Elijah, completed Manon’s dybbuk cleansing, but somehow felt they accomplished little. The psalm was read, the amulets placed, names of G-d were spoken, and the shofar blown. Yet, the spirit that clung to the girl held tight. The other eight members of the circle were dismissed, Elijah and Micha wanting to discuss the matter alone.

“We have failed, Elijah. Our young sister has been lost in the grip of this dybbuk.”

“Rabbi, you may be correct, but we have to keep trying.”

“No. The longer we delay the inevitable, the more dangerous being in this room with her becomes.”

“Rabbi.”

“The decision has to be made. I fear what damage will be done to her soul if we allow her more time.”

“FEAR NOT, LITTLE FLOCK; FOR IT IS YOUR FATHER’S GOOD PLEASURE THAT YE SHALL SEE THIS ANGEL OF GOD DESCENDING INTO THIS DAUGHTER OF MAN.” Rising from the ground, Manon spoke to the two men. She looked directly into Micha’s eyes, then Elijah’s. The words pouring forth from her mouth, slow and calculated, struck the men. They were brought to their knees as the girl continued, lips mouthing each word she spoke.

“I CERTIFY YOU, BRETHREN, THAT THE SOD HA’IBBUR WHICH IS BEFORE YOU IS NOT PREPARED BY THE DEVIL, BUT BY HE THAT DESIRES TO SHEW UNTO HIS SERVANTS THINGS WHICH MUST SHORTLY COME TO PASS. AND WHILE YE BELONG TO A GENERATION OF VIPERS, I KNOW THY WORKS, AND THY LABOUR, AND THY PATIENCE, AND HOW THOU CANST NOT BEAR THEM WHICH ARE EVIL. THE DAY WHEN GOD SHALL JUDGE THE SECRETS OF MEN IS AT HAND. AND YE SHALL BARE RECORD OF THE WORD.”

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Author's Notes: Mapping the Beast

Prelude: Piazza di San Pietro

2007-06-11T00:00:00.000-07:00

(Page 18 of 20)

Leaping to his feet, he grabbed Cheval by the wrist and tossed him at the woman. She crumpled as the boy struck her, trying to avoid impaling him upon her sword. The pole-man stabbed toward him, and Demetrius allowed the weapon to strike. Then, he hurriedly pulled the pike through his body, sliding across its length as he heaved closer his attacker. Too late did the man release his weapon, for Demetrius’ teeth were already buried deep into his larynx.

Not pausing to drink, the creature pulled the throat from his victim. Blood sprayed across the room, staining the white, padded walls in carnage. He yanked the pole from his back. A dripping gash filled his chest, but was of no concern as he leaped toward the body of the crying man attempting to wipe the blood sickness from his eyes. Demetrius’ sharpened fingers easily gouged the sockets of the orbs. With little effort, he separated the top of the blinded warriors skull from the rest of his body. He laughed as roaches began falling from the quickly growing openings in his skin.

Samantha stepped away from the holding cell window. And his father gave him great gifts and precious things. She came to the realization just as Cheval did.

“Hãsîl.” Cheval spoke the realization to himself as the woman threw him to his feet.

She swung her sword with awesome precision, but the razor edge landed short of its mark. Instead, it was knocked out of the way by the skull piece the creature held. A spray of dead, gray intellect splashed across her face, and the beast’s claw punched through her chest. Her blood covered Cheval, stinging in one eye, but the boy remained unfazed.

Using the moment to his advantage, he circled the beast and plunged his knife deep into its heart via the already gaping wound, before the creature could remove his hand from the woman’s torso. For a moment both Demetrius and Cheval appeared frozen in space. Subsequently, the insects stopped falling from Demetrius’ flesh.

Cheval wasted no time. Grasping a prod left by one of the beast’s victims, he began beating the creature. Over, and over, and over again he stuck at its face and head, exoskeletons crunching under the blows. The scene was completed shortly thereafter, when the sword of a fallen comrade was used to remove Demetrius’ head.

Cheval exited the room covered in blood.

“Take his remains, and those of the others to the Stygian stoves. I will not be attending the debriefing.” He dropped the sword, and popped his shoulder back into place. “I’ll take my leave. Wish your friend good luck.”

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Prelude: Piazza di San Pietro

2007-06-04T00:00:00.000-07:00

(Page 17 of 20)

Samantha looked at the creature’s face, still in the feral form from prior to the injection. His appearance was that of a wild animal in the moments before death. She realized he’d given up; the fighting nothing more than instinct honed over decades of battle. Grown weary with his life, something inside him would not let go.

The remaining two guards circled Demetrius, ready to prey upon any opening, any weakness.

“I’ll not be damned.” He grimaced, and a thick wooden pole punched through the back of his lung. Demetrius heard the voices of the dead, growing silent in whisper. Whispers of the terrible things they would do to him once he joined them. He shivered in pain as the pole was tugged from the gash, leaving splinters to twitch next to shattered nerve endings.

“I’ll not be damned.” The requiem brought up a mouthful of blood and salty liquid as the woman with the silver hilted sword took a mass of flesh from the base of his neck. The dead were silent, save a small laugh.

“I’ll not be damned.” His chant ground against the ears of his attackers, bloody tears filling his eyes as he glared at the boy before him.

“Oh, but you will be damned, Demetrius. And I’m sure you have plenty of enemies waiting for you in Hell.” Cheval plunged his bone-knife deep into Demetrius’ belly, twisting into his innards.

“You could easily be among them, boy.” Demetrius’ face twitched as the blade spun. Then, his form began to crackle like a piece of burning wood. Shimmering, it appeared insects were crawling just beneath his skin, their glossy backs materializing with each fissure breaking his tightly stretched hide.

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Prelude: Piazza di San Pietro

2007-05-28T00:00:00.000-07:00

(Page 16 of 20)

Abandoned Hospital; Naples/Pozzuli, Italy
Sunday, February 20
8:09 AM

Cheval was covered in blood, little of which was his own. Samantha understood now how a boy of his age could belong to the organization’s head. He finished his conversation with the patient, even through the beast’s final intoxicated moments. Next, he called in five members of the Guard that arrived with him, instructing the creature’s annihilation. Then, he pulled out his own knife. It was a long, jagged eyesore made of some type of bone (a material as effective as wood against the demon-bound), hand carved into an awkward, but deadly shape.

The Guard entered, two with cattle prods in hand, the remaining three carried weapons of silver and wood. Prods spit hot sparks as the two men lunged toward Demetrius. Samantha expected his final moments to be short, the drugs leaving him little better than a corpse prior to the attack. Yet, unexpectedly he dodged. The movement was simple, slow by the standards of the creature, but effective.

Sliding into a kneel, Demetrius arched his back and reached out to the staffs held by the men. Already they were leaning in, attempting to keep their distance from the patient while pressing forward with their weapons. He cleanly grasped the hilt of each prod and lightly tugged the weapons toward the men on either side of him. Falling into the motion, both Guards were sent a shock that coursed through their systems like lightning. Thrown to the ground by the force, they lay paralyzed and unconscious.

The strain seemed to make the patient dizzy, and he immediately threw up. Still, this too he used to his advantage. A gore-filled projectile of vomited claret splashed across the face of his next attacker. Blinded by partially digested blood and stomach acids, this attacker too fell to the floor. His agonizing scream was enough to bring Samantha toward the doorway in preparation for attack, but Cheval sent a look that gave her pause; an awful glare of contemptuous threat that told her to stay. She promptly obeyed.

A silver hilted sword was swung at Demetrius, blood still dripping from his partially open mouth. The cutting edge struck his hand, which rose in the way of its swing without even a glance. A small wound opened, betraying the force of the blow. The woman holding the blade felt a harsh vibration as metal struck rock-hard bone. Sliding it out of his grasp, she opened the wound further.

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Author's Notes: Mapping the Beast

Prelude: Piazza di San Pietro

2007-05-21T00:00:00.000-07:00

(Page 15 of 20)

“Sir, my father was Stregoni Benefici, and I fail to understand how my genetic makeup would have anything to do with my loyalty to the company.”

“And why is it I have demon spittle on my lapel?”

“I apologize sir. The patient’s abilities were underestimated.”

“Well,” he looked at Demetrius, who still watched as blood calmly its pump to and from his heart, “perhaps we underestimated him.”

“Sir, I…”

“You’re dismissed, agent.” Cheval straightened his tie and boldly stepped back into the holding cell. “Now then. Demetrius…”

Samantha stepped away, angry at the fact that an infant chastised her, not to mention his having significantly more corporate power than herself. She had no control over the situation, but still remained upset for underestimating Demetrius’ ability a second time. Last night in the Holy See, she thought he was going to be a simple tag and bag. She was dead wrong, and her partner was fighting to keep her soul because of it.

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Author's Notes: Here There Be Monsters

Prelude: Piazza di San Pietro

2007-05-14T00:00:00.000-07:00

(Page 14 of 20)

Demetrius slid a sharp claw across the boy’s neck, not quite cutting flesh. If only his mentor could see him now, a Lamaia hovering over the frail body of a child. He’d always told Demetrius how delaying the kill could increase the pleasure of the hunt, but until now he’d never truly understood.

Unfortunately for Demetrius, it was never explained that part of the mental orgasm came through increased risk.

A noose closed around his neck, yanking back the rabid dog as several men shocked him with increased-voltage cattle prods. Another pole struck his side, its needled tip filling him with a massive dose of tranquilizer. The effects of the drug took charge, and the tight vibrating pain of electricity was no longer felt. Easing numbness flowed across his body.

“What the bloody hell was that!” Cheval shoved the employee nearest him against the wall with unusual force, screaming at no one and everyone at once, “Where the fuck is the stupid bitch that brought the Ishtaritu in?”

Samantha rounded the corner the others took the patient’s vitals and filed out.

“I am here, sir.”

“I thought you told me the damned thing was properly tranquilized!”

“We have been administering tranquilizing agents exceeding regulations …”

“I don’t give a damn what you’ve been doing. Quite obviously it hasn’t been enough.”

“Yes, sir.”

“I was told you were the best Italy had to offer, but I have to admit, I was expecting problems. You have tainted blood don’t you?”

“Sir?” The conversation was suddenly quite inappropriate.

“I understand your father was demon-bound.”

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Author's Notes: Here There Be Monsters

Prelude: Piazza di San Pietro

2007-05-07T00:00:00.000-07:00

(Page 13 of 20)

Abandoned Hospital; Naples/Pozzuli, Italy
Sunday, February 20
6:57 AM

Cheval de Loa stepped into the room, allowing an employee to seal him in with the rabid beast. Leaning against the wall opposite Demetrius, he cracked the joints in his hand as he stared through the dull shadows of his jaundiced eyes. Demetrius snarled, green eyes beginning to radiate intensity. He could see blood throbbing through the veins of the boy across from him, a liquid sacrament awaiting his worship.

“Forgive me,” the child spoke, his voice somewhat hoarse “if I seem unimpressed by your circumstance. I feel no guilt in putting you here.”

“I could kill you where you stand. I’d have your throat torn out and your pre-pubescent body half drained before they even heard your screams.” A low growl rumbled deep within Demetrius’ chest. Cheval smiled, shadows lightening briefly as he raised his eyebrows in a chuckle. The effeminate laugh brought a sort of chill down the beast’s spine.

“I’m sure you could.” Cheval spoke.

“Then why the hell are you standing there making chit-chat?”

“Oh, believe me, I don’t typically make it a habit to converse with your kind. To be honest, the fact that I even have to be here speaking with a creature spawned of Hell sickens me.”

“Then don’t bother, kid. Let Nathaniel kill me already.”

“Nathaniel? The fact that you have knowledge of his name only furthers our concern for his ability and position. No, Demetrius, you won’t be seeing Nathaniel today.”

Demetrius was unsure why this conversation suddenly begun to concern him.

“Why am I here?”

“Oh, don’t misunderstand me. Nathaniel will not be joining the ranks of Italy’s section of the society. Still, you will be sacrificed.”

With blinding speed, the creature moved through the small amount of air between he and Cheval. Fangs reared to tear flesh. His jaw dislocated so as to grasp around bone. Fingers sharpened into razor tips, and ears tuned sharply to the sound of the sacramental pulse. In less than a moment, he was atop his captor, dark saliva dripping slowly off his tongue as he hissed. A beast leaning in for the kill, Demetrius’ frigid breath chilled Cheval’s skin.

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Author's Notes: Mapping the Beast

Prelude: Piazza di San Pietro

2007-04-30T00:00:00.000-07:00

(Page 12 of 20)

Abandoned Hospital; Naples/Pozzuli, Italy
Sunday, February 20
6:06 AM

It didn’t make any sense to her. When she brought him in last night, he'd fought with the ferocity of a wild feline. Now, drugged as he was, Samantha expected the bared fangs and feral claws of a furiously cornered beast. Staring at his eyes, dry and dead, she wondered—if he could so easily access the terror of his demonic side—why was he now giving up?

“You brought in the beast?” Cheval de Loa was unexpectedly beside Samantha, startling her. Few people had the ability to do that. She tensed, turning to look at him.

A young man, Cheval couldn’t have been older than thirteen, but his dress and bearing was that of one much his elder. They said he was of those choice few within the Curia Synod, an elite inner circle of people holding a position in direct report to the company’s head. He carried that sort of air about him, a confidence of someone with no rules to bind his thoughts or actions.

“Yes, sir.” Samantha regained her composure. The ridiculous sound of “sir,” when speaking to a boy his age, was not lost on her.

“Good. Ensure the creature is properly tranquilized. I would like to speak with it as soon as possible.”

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Author's Notes: Mapping the Beast

Prelude: Piazza di San Pietro

2007-04-23T00:00:00.000-07:00

(Page 11 of 20)

“No. I can’t allow that.” Gavin was smaller than most of Italy’s associates, but next to Samantha he was dwarfed. Still, he was, at times, the only individual willing to question her authority. She respected that.

“Why not?” she questioned.

“Hypnos is still in experimental stages. There’s the possibility of hallucinations and panic. He’ll suffer from spouts of vertigo and brief periods of unconsciousness. Worst case, he ends up in a coma and we get nothing from him. I’m not sure about you, but with Mr. de Loa coming I would prefer to avoid shipping this one to the Stygian stoves any sooner than necessary.”

“Look at him, Gavin. He is tearing holes in his head and talking to an audience of his own making. I am willing to risk the side effects.”

“If his vitals show stability in the next half hour, I’ll give him another dose of Thorazine with 900 milligrams of hawthorn extract. The hawthorn should allow the Thorazine to work faster, and may calm down his taint. We can’t risk Hypnos, especially in his state.”

Gavin left the hallway, cursing Samantha’s stubbornness all the way to the med lab.

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Prelude: Piazza di San Pietro

2007-04-16T00:00:00.000-07:00

(Page 10 of 20)

Samantha peered into the holding cell as the patient slid down the wall, his pale face a pantomime of anguish.

“He is becoming violent again,” she motioned to Gavin as Demetrius began scraping his nails into his scalp, dark gashes filling slowly with blood. “He will need another tranquilization.”

“We’re already well over the recommended dosage. With the amount of blood he lost, due to and after removal of the bullet, I can’t be certain that isn’t too much.” Gavin wasn’t as worried about the Herculean man in the holding cell as the woman before him. Samantha was a tall, picturesque woman with the body of a dancer and stunning looks. She wore all black; save her snakeskin coat’s blue highlights that matched the died tips of her shoulder length hair. Some of Gavin’s fellow doctors joked that she killed a Jaracacas, just to have something matching her oddly colored locks. Gavin sometimes wondered…

He watched her contemplate the use of more drugs to subside the patient, despite being in no shape to make such decisions. Still, Elijah and Rabbi Micha would little allow someone of her familial background to assist with Manon’s cleansing. Besides, Demetrius was still her assignment, despite being in Gavin’s care.

“What are we using now?” Samantha asked the small Englishman, her Italian accent tinting the words with graceful flavor.

“Ridiculously high doses of Thorazine.”

“Switch to Hypnos.”

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Author's Notes: Here There Be Monsters

Prelude: Piazza di San Pietro

2007-04-09T00:00:00.000-07:00

(Page 9 of20)

Abandoned Hospital; Naples/Pozzuli, Italy
Sunday, February 20
5:17 AM

Flickering lights halted his dialogue momentarily, while the few seconds for the generator to kick on passed. In that moment his mentor would have taken the temporary advantage to kill his captors and escape. Demetrius, however, was nothing like his mentor. No, Demetrius would rather remain motionless, allowing the guard to check the bolts on the door. The seal remained air tight, the bolts in place. The glow of the florescent lighting, peering through a thick layer of Plexiglas, grew to its previous radiance as Demetrius continued his aside. For the moment, the only audience was taunting him in his mind; Zeitgeists of victims whispered their cruel words. They remained long dead, but ever vigilant in reminding him of his damnation.

“It only seems proper it should end here. Here, where they shall bring the hands of the man who has been hunting me since I began my search.

“Have you ever tasted the flavor of hatred? Felt its comforting warmth pulse into your mouth? I know what it’s like to hunger for that sensation. To feel an appetite that goes further than the pains of the flesh. An emptiness that cries from the very depth of my long forgotten soul. I was given a gift. I was given a gift!

“I WAS GIVEN A GIFT!”

He slammed his fist against the padded wall of the cell, desperate to bring himself a touch of pain. It was a sensation he grew accustom to over the years, an old friend he wished now to return; walking into the moment with a sense of familiarity. Unfortunately, the room was created to not only prevent him from bringing harm to others, but also to himself.

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Author's Notes: Mapping the Beast

Prelude: Piazza di San Pietro

2007-04-02T00:00:00.000-07:00

(Page 8 of 20)

Demetrius soon grew frustrated and thrust forward in an attempt to tackle the woman. Samantha leaped into an inhumanly high sauté, pushing the beast under her in a leap-frog motion. Immediately the creature turned, claw slicing the air as Samantha dived to the ground. Rolling on her back, she promptly pushed her body weight onto her arms, springing herself to her feet.

Too late, she realized Demetrius was behind her. His cold breath on her neck. In desperation she twisted to send an elbow up toward his jaw. Something in her arm made a cracking noise upon connection.

Unexpectedly, Demetrius fell to his knees, having lost all balance. He wanted to say something sarcastic and cruel, but it seemed he forgot how to speak. The world blurred in his right eye, and he could hear little apart from the ringing. Then the scent of roasted acorns filled his nostrils, and a warmth flowed across the back of his neck. Surely, the smell was nothing more than an illusion brought on by the damage caused from the bullet lodged deep within his cranium.

Manon choked, more blood spilling from the wound on her neck. A wound already sealing itself shut as she passed into unconsciousness, dropping the still-smoking revolver. A tear welled in Samantha’s eye as she looked at her unconscious partner, at last breaking her glare from the prey. He poisoned her with his bite, leaving Samantha but moments to get the girl back to Nuovo Pellegrini before the taint of corruption made its way to Manon soul. If that were to happen, she would be no more human than Demetrius, and Samantha would be forced to….

With an elegant coupe jeté en tourant, Samantha made a three-quarter turn in the air, giving an unsympathetic strike to the side of Demetrius’ head as the grand jeté en avant completed the turn. He fell into a comatose heap upon the ground.

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Prelude: Piazza di San Pietro

2007-03-26T00:00:00.000-07:00

(Page 7 of 20)

“I saw your angel.” Manon twitched, but Demetrius didn’t know if it was from the ache that cobwebbed through her body, or the lie he just whispered into her dying form. “I am truly sorry you’ll never see him again.”

He felt the callous separation of flesh across his back as a blade cut through both clothing and several layers.

Samantha stood behind the beast, left foot crossed in front of right. She held a silver-coated knife high, body tilted toward the wounded creature as if just finishing a string of graceful chaîné turns. Demetrius dropped the girl, rotating toward the woman as her snakeskin coat finished following through with the spin.

“That was not too bad,” Samantha said, knowing Manon may be in serious danger, but refusing to take her eyes away from the monster before her. “Do not expect to do it again.”

Demetrius hissed, and Samantha smiled as the dance moved into the grand allegro.

His clawed hands flailed through the air at an outrageous tempo, but Samantha parried his attack in a series of piques and pirouettes. Her body spun, miraculously keeping its balance as she twirled, hips and shoulders aligned. The knife knocked one claw away, her empty hand the other, over and over whilst spotting the face of the beast.

Her movements caused no damage, but the purpose was not to attack. She made that mistake already. Instead, she would distract and tire the creature, pushing him away from Manon, until an opening presented itself. She would not further risk herself or her partner with on another careless and overpowering blow.

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Prelude: Piazza di San Pietro

2007-03-19T00:00:00.000-07:00

(Page 6 of 20)

“That wasn’t too bad, but now that I know we’re gonna’ brawl, don’t expect to do it again.” He lifted her off the ground, tightening his grip. Samantha felt her pulse just below his fingers and pressure building behind her eyes.

Manon was still getting over the effects of her Ecstasy. Yet, she knew that Samantha was in trouble. Quickly she reached into her bag, pulling out a revolver.

“Stop, craqueuhhe!” Manon pulled the hammer back with her thumb, shaking a little as she did.

“Heh,” Demetrius smirked, realizing the girl never witnessed one of the creatures she labeled him as, “You can put away the boom-stick little girl. It wouldn’t do you any good against a craqueuhhe, and it certainly won’t help against me.”

Samantha’s lungs were on fire. The edges of the world were starting to blur. Her fingers tore at the creature’s arm, her legs flailed beneath her. Demetrius didn’t budge.

“I mean it!” Manon yelled, trying to steady the tip of the gun to target his head.

“Oh,” the statuesque figure turned to face Samantha, her kicks weakening, her grip loose, “You hear that? She means it.”

Samantha couldn’t hear his words; the throbbing of her heart filled her ears.

A twitch of a finger and a bullet exploded from the chamber. The arms of the demonic creature seemed to move upon their own accord. One pushing out, tossing the figure it once held with all the delicacy of a devil. The strength of the motion would easily have killed any average person. The other hand swiped through the air, snatching the steel that was projected toward him. His feet carried him swiftly.

Demetrius was beside Manon before the sound of the gun stopped resounding through the plaza. His jaw closed around her neck, tearing open vein and artery. Blood throbbed into his mouth, hot with fear, as his tongue probed the wet gash. Manon writhed beneath the creatures grip, terrified breath caught in her chest. His saliva intermingled with her life-liquids, burning as it coursed through her veins. Her pulse began to slow and he pulled his mouth away from her neck.

Popping his jaw back into place, he whispered into her ear.

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Author's Notes: Here There Be Monsters

Prelude: Piazza di San Pietro

2007-03-12T00:00:00.000-07:00

(Page 5 of 20)

Piazza di San Pietro; Vatican City State
Saturday, February 19
11:51 PM

“Hello, ladies.” He was right next to them, eyes glowing a light shade of green, “You know, in America they had this guy named Nathaniel who follows me. I gotta’ say, you two don’t look half as threatening.”

“L’apparenza inganna.” Samantha scowled as she spoke the words, and in less than a moment, the tip of her heel was connecting with Demetrius’ chin. His head snapped back and he stumbled. Samantha found her footing more quickly than Demetrius’ ability to comprehend what was occurring. With the ball of her fist, she put all her force into Demetrius’ chest, tossing him to the ground.

Samantha unsheathed her bokken. The sword was originally designed for practice, but with a bit of sharpening, it became quite an efficient weapon against demonically bound creatures. Her movements were at nearly invisible speeds as she brought the tip of the sword down toward Demetrius’ chest. Unfortunately, Demetrius made movements that were unseen to even her trained eye, rolling out of the sword’s way and standing to face her.

Fangs bared and fingers sharpened, Demetrius now had the edge. The force of Samantha’s blow splintered the wooden katana as it struck. Suddenly, his claw grasped down on her throat, drawing blood where the tips of his fingers broke through the skin.

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Author's Notes: Mapping the Beast

Prelude: Piazza di San Pietro

2007-03-05T00:00:00.000-08:00

(Page 4 of 20)

Piazza di San Pietro; Vatican City State
Saturday, February 19
11:48 PM

The pain was almost too much to bear—a harsh current flowing across his skin as ichor burned his veins. Demetrius stepped lightly past the colonnaded outer edge of the plaza, agony with each footfall. He was not meant to be here, and the torment could only be controlled by shifting his focus: Insufflatio. Exsufflatio. Insufflatio. Exsufflatio . . .

That was why he came: he was a man with an unclean spirit and he wanted to exhale the demon. In two days, the Jubilee of the Roman Curia would begin and he could petition God to accept his work and shorten the suffering of his soul in Purgatory. He’d tried so many other things. An indulgence may give him means of discharging the temporal punishment of sin and allow this pathos to end, at least, with the Last Judgment.

Suddenly, he heard a woman strike the ground near one of the light posts that surrounded the granite obelisk at the center of the plaza. As he turned to look, an irrational sense of dread overtook him, as if his subconscious mind caught something which his consciousness didn’t yet recognize. The woman whispered incoherently, and Demetrius felt an overwhelming want to stop her words.

He circled behind the woman and her companion. Recognizing something about them which filled him still further with icy fear, until he recalled the hunter left behind in America. He was being targeted, hunted by these two.

“What did the angel speak of?” The younger one smiled as she asked.

Angel?

He focused the pain that surrounded him into anger.

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Author's Notes: Mapping the Beast

Prelude: Piazza di San Pietro

2007-02-26T00:00:00.000-08:00

(Page 3 of 20)

“You shall destroy the beast whom the lord God delivers to you; your eye shall have no pity on him.” Manon spoke in a near silent whisper as Samantha forced herself closer to better hear the prophecy, “Behold, I tell you a mystery: we shall not sleep, but we shall be changed—in a moment, the beast shall bring the sting of death. And the dead will be raised, and we shall be changed. For this incorruptible must put on corruption, and this mortal must put on immortality. But by the grace of God I am what I am, and his grace toward me will not be in vain.

“And this son of Ishtar, whom was Queen in Babylon, is not a son of Lilith, like unto his father, Heuschrecke. Nevertheless he walked the way of his father and his father gave him great gifts and precious things because he was the firstborn. Therefore he did evil in the sight of the Lord. and a wise son makes a glad father but to do evil is like sport to a fool.

“Hear this, o’ hunter! Take heed, o’ house of the guard! For yours is the judgment, because you shall pour out his wrath on you like water. Woe to the worthless shepherd, who leaves the flock! A sword shall be against his arm and against his right eye; his arm shall completely wither, and his right eye shall be totally blinded.

“The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ be with you. My love be with you all in Christ Jesus. Amen.” Manon fell silent. Then, as she often seemed to do after such an event, she began to weep.

“Did you hear the words?" she asked Samantha, tears streaming down her face. Unsurprising to Samantha, there was no injury from the strike to the girl’s head. When in Ecstasy, Manon seemed almost impervious to harm.

“Yes, but I lost the target in the process.” The pain of piety that surrounded her still left Samantha on edge.

“What did the angel speak of?” Manon smiled.

“Killing beasts and withering arms. I’ll explain it all as soon as we find the target again.” Samantha’s eyes, sharper at night than they were during the day, scanned across the radius of their location. Demetrius lost them somehow, or so she thought.

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Author's Notes: Here There Be Monsters

2007-02-19T12:00:00.000-08:00

The phrase “here there be monsters” is in reference to a variety of phrases used by early European mapmakers to warn of great beasts abiding in unexplored locations on a map. While rarely used, this technique has become glamorized by modern fantasy. Included among the few examples of this technique are the Borgia Map (ca. 1430 C.E.) and the Lenox Globe (ca. 1503-05 C.E.). The Borgia Map (ca. 1430 C.E.) bears a dragon figure across Asia, and the phrase: “Hic etiam homines magna cornua habentes longitudine quatuor pedum, et sunt etiam serpentes tante magnitudinis, ut unum boven comedant interum” or “Here also are men having large horns four feet long, and there are even serpents of such magnitude that they can eat an ox whole.” On the Lenox Globe, the eastern coast of Asia has the Latin phrase “hic sunt dracones” or “here be dragons,” although this may also be in reference to the Dagroians, a ghoulish people which Marco Polo described as feasting upon the dead. Perhaps the earliest use of this technique was the Ptolemy Atlas (2nd Century C.E.), which warns of hippos, elephants and cannibals.

Here, I will discuss the variety of monsters that hide in the unexplored locations of Tarot—those that are mentioned, but not completely examined in the text.

angel

A religious term for a benevolent spirit. The word originates in the 14th century from Old English and Old French sources—“engel” and “angele”—but the term evolved from even earlier sources: Latin’s “angelus” and Greek’s “angelos,” for “messenger.” For this reason, it is used in Scriptural translations for the Hebrew word “mal’akh” or “messenger.”

craqueuhhe

demon

A generic term for an evil spirit. The word originates in 1387 from Latin and Greek sources—“dæmon” or “spirit,” and “daimonos” or “lesser god” sometimes including the souls of the dead. Early Jewish and Christian authors used the Greek form to differentiate their own God from heathen gods and unclean spirits.

jaracacas

Ishtar

Chief goddess of Assyria and Babylon, similar in nature to the Phoenician Astarte and the Greek Aphrodite

Ishtaritu

Priestesses and sacred prostitutes who worship the goddess Ishtar.

Lamia

A Greek expression meaning literally “swallower” or “leacher,” but commonly used as a term representing a female vampire.

stregoni

Stregoni Benefici

Zeitgeist

The spirit of an era. The word is Germanic, originating in 1848—literally “zeit” or “time” and “geist” or “spirit.”

Prelude: Piazza di San Pietro

2007-02-19T00:00:00.000-08:00

(Page 2 of 20)

Manon was one of those rare individuals whose abilities were not only accepted by their religious scholars as tolerable, but actually deemed sacred. At unannounced and often inconvenient times, she would fall into fits of what she referred to as an “Ecstasy.” A spiritual wall would seem to strike her, often knocking her to the ground. As she rose, her eyes would be locked on an entity that no one else could see. Manon claimed it was her angel.

Falling to the ground, Manon struck her head on the stone base of one of the light posts that surrounded the obelisk. Samantha hated that she was partnered with the French girl. Mind you, it made sense. Manon would rarely have an Ecstasy without being placed in a stressful environment; and what was more stressful than following a Hunter on assignment? In addition, Samantha was not only the most efficient agent Italy could offer, and therefore the safest individual to keep watch of the girl, but she also came with the added benefit of a photographic memory. Considering the fact that Manon’s Ecstasies were prone to sounding like the mumbled coos of doves when recorded, it was necessary that they be heard first hand. Still, Samantha hated that she was partnered with the girl. Mainly due to the fact that each time Manon fell into her fits, it hit Samantha’s soul like a flaming sledgehammer.

She could feel a demon trying desperately to yank itself free of her body while Manon began to raise, her eyes on the imaginary angel. Manon could never remember the words she spoke when in this state. It was as if the mere presence of the angel was all that mattered, his message not so much for her as for those around her. There was a far away look in her eyes as the words of the angel began pouring forth from her mouth, nearly too fast to understand. As if the distraction of the saintly hub and the agony of the Ecstasy that was taking place before her were not enough, Samantha was forced to draw her remaining attention away from the target to listen to the words.

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Author's Notes: Here There Be Monsters

Author's Notes: Mapping the Beast

2007-02-12T12:00:00.000-08:00

Click here for a map of key locations mentioned in Tarot.

Prelude: Piazza di San Pietro

2007-02-12T00:00:00.000-08:00

(Page 1 of 20)

Piazza di San Pietro; Vatican City State
Saturday, February 19
11:48 PM

Samantha was feeling incredibly distracted as she and Manon approached the red granite obelisk that stood towering over them at the center of the piazza. She could sense the unholy blood that slept within her veins as it began to boil; a gift from her father.

Demetrius was stepping softly past the colonnaded outer edge of the plaza. He was admiring the work that past popes commissioned and appeared to be oblivious to the following eyes of the Hunters. He was not meant to be here. If the taint in her blood was causing such a distracting discomfort, Samantha could only imagine the pain his malevolent plasma should be bringing him. Yet, he strolled across the cobblestones with no more difficulty than the tourists that would fill the same streets in mere hours.

In two days, the Jubilee of the Roman Curia will begin. The Pope will open the Holy Door into the basilica and keep it open until late into the night to ensure none will be denied the opportunity to gain indulgence. Demetrius planed to attend the Curia.

While all were open to indulgence, they couldn’t risk the possibility of a corruption of the ceremony. Despite the echoes of worship affecting her demonic side, Samantha tried to keep her concentration on the target and ignore pain crackling beneath her skin. Suddenly, Manon was tackled to the ground by an invisible force.

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Author's Notes: Mapping the Beast

Author's Notes: The Tarot

2007-02-05T12:00:00.000-08:00

The tarot is a deck of cards with allegorical representations often used for divination. Most decks include 78 cards (22 Major Arcana, or “trump” or “key” cards, and 56 Minor Arcana, or “pip” cards).

First created for nobility in northern Italy between 1410 and 1430 C.E., the tarot (or carte da trionfi—triumph cards—as they were then called) developed through the addition of the trump cards to the already established playing card deck. Divination with playing cards is evidenced in The Oracles of Francesco Marcolino da Forli as early as 1540 C.E., but systems for laying the Tarot and divinatory meanings were not documented until the mid 18th century with The Square of Sevens (1735) and Pratesi Cartomancer (1750).

Here, I will discuss both the tarot cards that appear in Tarot and those left unmentioned.

The Major Arcana:

0—The Fool:

I—The Magician:

II—The High Priestess:

III—The Empress:

IV—The Emperor:

V—The Hierophant:

VI—The Lovers:

VII—The Chariot:

VIII—Justice:

IX—The Hermit:

X—Wheel of Fortune:

XI/VIII—Fortitude/Strength:

The tarot card, “fortitude” (sometimes called “strength”) is the eighth or eleventh card in the Major Arcana, or trump cards. The design typically includes the image of a woman holding dominance over a lion. Dependant upon the deck, the woman is holding open the lion’s jaws, sitting upon the lion, or placing a hand upon the lion. Humanity and divinity are symbolized side by side, and characterized beyond the woman and lion with the use of a lemniscate above the woman’s head. This card is representative moderation toward (typically internal) pain and danger; neither avoiding nor actively seeking either.

Fortitude is one of the cardinal virtues represented in the tarot—the others are justice, temperance, and prudence, but prudence is often absent from the deck. Justice is normally the eighth card in the Major Arcana, but this position is sometimes changed with fortitude to better fit astrological correspondences.

This card is also associated with Gilgamesh, who was punished by the goddess Ishtar to learn what it means to be human. He finds this nature within himself, but also discovers death.

XII—The Hanged Man:

XIII—Death:

XIV—Temperance:

XV—The Devil:

XVI—The Tower:

XVII—The Star:

XVIII—The Moon:

XIX—The Sun:

XX—Judgement:

XXI—The World:

The Minor Arcana:

Ace of Wands:

Two of Wands:

Three of Wands:

Four of Wands:

Five of Wands:

Six of Wands:

Seven of Wands:

Eight of Wands:

Nine of Wands:

Ten of Wands:

Page of Wands:

Knight of Wands:

Queen of Wands:

King of Wands:

Ace of Cups:

Two of Cups:

Three of Cups:

Four of Cups:

Five of Cups:

Six of Cups:

Seven of Cups:

Eight of Cups:

Nine of Cups:

Ten of Cups:

Page of Cups:

Knight of Cups:

Queen of Cups:

King of Cups:

Ace of Swords:

Two of Swords:

Three of Swords:

Four of Swords:

Five of Swords:

Six of Swords:

Seven of Swords:

Eight of Swords:

Nine of Swords:

Ten of Swords:

Page of Swords:

Knight of Swords:

Queen of Swords:

King of Swords:

Ace of Pentacles:

Two of Pentacles:

Three of Pentacles:

Four of Pentacles:

Five of Pentacles:

Six of Pentacles:

Seven of Pentacles:

Eight of Pentacles:

Nine of Pentacles:

Ten of Pentacles:

Page of Pentacles:

Knight of Pentacles:

Queen of Pentacles:

King of Pentacles:

2007-02-05T00:00:00.000-08:00

XI – Fortitude

The image of a woman holding dominance over a lion on this card is representative moderation toward (typically internal) pain and danger; neither avoiding nor actively seeking either.

This card is also associated with Gilgamesh, who was punished by the goddess Ishtar to learn what it means to be human. He finds this nature within himself, but also discovers death.

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Author's notes: The Tarot

Press Kit

2007-01-07T01:00:00.000-08:00

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Tarot: Table of Contents

2007-01-01T00:00:00.000-08:00

Prelude: Piazza di San Pietro
Page 0, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20

Aria: Emanations of the Devil
Page 0, 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6 ...

Interlude: Three Card Spread
Page

Finale: Cowardice & Bravery
Page

Encore:
Page

Author's Notes:
The Tarot
Mapping the Beast
Here There Be Monsters