The Satanists

  “I will be mother.” Moira said and moved across to the table, before she poured the milk into the cups, she called over her shoulder. “Milk and sugar Doctor?”

  “Milk and one sugar lump please.” Kempton replied while looking through her handbag for a small packet of biscuits that she and Moira would share, they were chocolate, for Moira preferred them.

  Moira pulled an envelope out of her pocket, and then she poured the contents into one of the cups before pouring the tea. Moira had stolen a small number of sleeping tablets from the clinic; she had ground them down into a fine powder and slipped them into the envelope, along with some of her own herbs, for just this occasion, however, she also used her growing satanic powers upon the psychiatrist. Kempton had drank half of her tea when suddenly she rose and walked over to the door, closing it, something that she never did on her visits to patients rooms, but then she was now feeling a little drowsy and Moira was controlling her thoughts.

  The psychiatrist now finished her tea before it got cold, and then she closed her eyes, only for a second she told herself, it was a warm summer`s day, and Kempton felt a little sleepy already as she listened to Moira who was telling her about her childhood, and slowly she drifted off into a deep sleep. Moira undressed Kempton, hurrying before someone interrupted her, and then she put on the clothes of the psychiatrist, she then pulled out a dark wig from her small chest of drawers, a wig that she acquired from the drama class that she has been attending, again for just this reason.

  Moira now pulled out a small glass bowl that was filled with the numerous ingredients that she had acquired, including a small flask of whisky that she had stolen from the director of the hospital. She had entered his office while he was busy elsewhere, looking into a report of an intruder, a demon sent by Moira. This she now added, stirring the ingredients together caused a curious interaction, and it gave off a slight smell. She now lit the brew before her, using the cigarette lighter that she had taken from Kempton`s pocket.

  “You know you really should try to give up your cigarettes Ms Kempton, they will kill you.” Moira said successfully containing a fit of the giggles.

  A sickly smelling green plume of smoke began to rise from the bowl, however, Moira had anticipated this, and she had already opened the small window in her room. She now turned on a small fan that she had purchased to alleviate the summer heat, and hoped that most of the smell would disappear through the window, and not bring a member of the staff to investigate. Now she was leaving the hospital this did not worry her unduly, it would just mean yet another task to accomplish before she walked free.

  She now summoned the deception demon Malikate. “Malikate, hear me now, I order you in the name of the great Lord Lucifer to appear before me.” Moira said quietly so as not to draw attention to her room.

  “Malikate, hear me, appear now or suffer the consequences.” Moira ordered impatiently.

  The room cooled noticeably and a column of black smoke began to rise from the floor, soon it took on density, and Moira could see that Malikate had obeyed her summons, a terrible smell had accompanied his arrival making Moira gasp, and she put a scented handkerchief to her nose.

  “Who is it that wakes me from my sleep?” The small green demon asked grumpily.

  “It is I, Moira Bourbon, obey me Malikate or I will punish you in so many ways.” The Satanist demanded. “When I leave this room I want the people of this hospital to see this woman here.” Moira ordered, pointing across at the sleeping psychiatrist. “They are to see her dressed in the clothes that I am wearing now, they will not to see me. Do you understand?”

  “Yes, Oh Master, all will be as you say.” The demon replied rather testily.

  “At least she had some fashion sense.” Moira said, mostly to herself as she looked at her new outfit. She wore the psychiatrist`s clothes to reinforce the spell that the demon would put upon the people in the hospital.

  “Oh, and Malikate, take your usual fee from her this time, take as much as you want, she will not mind.” Moira said, while grinning across at Kempton.

  She now watched as the sharp teeth of the demon sank into the neck of the psychiatrist, and then it began to drink her blood. This was its official fee for its services, normally it liked to drink the blood of the Satanist, which was filled with satanic energy, however, Moira had decided for the demon, that it take its fee from the unconscious woman. Malikate was yet another demon who never argued who paid the fee, as long as it came from a living human, so he did not complain. This time he almost drained the payee of her blood, because of the lack of satanic energy, the psychiatrist`s colour slowly faded, and then she died.

  Moira picked up her small collection of satanic books, and then Kempton`s handbag, and then she walked out of the hospital, and with the aid of the demon no one challenged her. Outside, in the driveway of the hospital, she dug around inside the handbag until she found the keys to Kempton`s small Citroen. Moira quickly opened the door and got in, and then she drove off. As for the demon, he disappeared in a cloud of black smoke, and if anyone had been there, he or she would have noticed a terrible smell.

  The sun was warming her, so she opened the window a little, to cool her, she laughed in delight at her new freedom, it was acting almost like a drug, and she cried out in joy. Moira now came to a decision; she would never see the inside of a prison again, to be under the command of others. Moira decided to use the small country roads to make her escape, less traffic cameras to track her, and allow Rob Hinds to find her a second time, that would never do. The lanes would eventually take her to Yorkshire, some fifty miles further down the road, until then she enjoyed the freedom. The fifty miles soon passed and finally Moira saw a sign indicating the hamlet of Parkston, it pointed to her left. She followed the sign, for she wanted to meet up with the local squire of Parkston, one who would be very delighted to see her. She would tell him how she had made her escape from the hospital just to look him up, the details would make him laugh, something that she also needed, a good laugh.

  **********

  Simon Parkston looked out of the windows of his bedroom, he appeared to be looking at the small hamlet that belonged to the Parkston estate, but he was not seeing it, he was in fact lost in thought. Parkston was a dark brooding man, standing just over six foot tall, with greying hair, and he had just celebrated his fiftieth birthday. He hid a dark secret from most of those with whom he normally did business; he was a powerful Satanist, one who wanted to increase his power by way of an idea that had come to him in his sleep. His idea was to enter the hell dimension into which the ancient gods and demons had been banished by God, and once there, to steal some of their ancient power in the form of the golden Ark of Baʿal Berith. The golden Ark was capable of giving its master an enormous amount of satanic power; it would make Parkston the most powerful Satanist in the world. Frankly, the idea still scared him, however, the idea filled his dreams; it would not allow him to put it aside for another day. The tricky part, the part that scared him the most, was acquiring this knowledge without releasing the ancient gods and demons from their eternal prison, for to do so would bring about apocalyptic consequences, and what if the idea had been given to him by these very same imprisoned demons in a bid for freedom. To do this he knew that he would need more help than his coven could provide, to ensure his quest was a complete success. He was pondering on whom to call upon, for there were at least a dozen Satanists in Europe to choose from, although not all of these were of the first rank. The problem was which one would be the most suitable, the most stable, for many of his contemporaries were none too stable. His ponderings were interrupted by his wife calling him to lunch.

  He lived in his family home, Parkston Manor, in Yorkshire, a fortified manor house, that had once been much in need of restoration. Thanks to his powers, he had acquired the necessary funds, and the work was finally progressing and completion was only a month away. This was following the house coming into his hands after the death of his elder brother, ten years ago,
and who had lived there all alone, allowing the listed building to deteriorate even further that it had already done under their father. Living here with Parkston was his wife Marjorie; no one else, for the couple had no children. The members of staff, Mrs Joanna Knightly, who was the housekeeper, Agnes Parsons, who was the maid, and Jonathan Towers, a handyman, lived in the small hamlet to one side of house.

  **********

  Parkston had just finished lunch when Moira drove over the now empty moat, crossing a drawbridge that told everyone of her arrival, and once inside she parked in the large courtyard. She had always thought the manor house beautiful, with its Great Hall attached to the Solar Block, which in turn was attached to the North Tower, with a matching Tower on the other side of the Great Hall. To the East was the Gatehouse, and an old barn, finally three high curtain walls to the North, South and east of the Great Hall ensured his privacy. Parkston walked out of the Great Hall to see who had arrived.

  “My god, surely its Moira Bourbon, but how you have changed since the last time that I saw you, you`re a young lady now.” Parkston said in surprise at seeing the change in her appearance. Moira had been a gawky teenager when last he had seen her, now she was a beautiful young woman with red flowing locks, beautiful green eyes and a marvellous figure, enough to increase the pulse rate in any red blooded Satanist. “Moira, I thought that you were a guest of her Majesty?” Parkston said quizzically.

  Moira opened the window of the Citroen fully, so as to speak to her friend. “I was Simon, but I decided that the place was stifling me, so here I am, welcome I hope?” Moira replied and then laughed. “I need somewhere to stash the motor; the owner might want it back.” Moira added with a smile.

  “Yes of course Moira, park it in the small barn to your right, we do not use it at the moment.” Parkston said. “Hang on while I open the doors.” Parkston then crossed the courtyard, unlocked the padlock, and took off the chain, he then opened the old wooden doors and Moira drove the small Citroen inside.

  Parkston looked at Moira, and he smiled, for the thought came to him that she was just the person that he required to help him in his work, but then Moira had seen to that, during her nocturnal visits. Although he thought of her as not much more than a novice, her father had spoken highly of her and if she had kept up her studies then she could well be the one to assist him in his quest. Most importantly, she would surely have access to her father`s magnificent library, and he could use the information stored in the books to lessen the dangers of his proposed journey.

  She might well have been just a novice when Parkston had last seen her, however, she had learnt a lot since then from her father, it was only his death, and her confinement, that had prevented her rise amongst the Satanic ranks. Now two years later, she had acquired a little more power, and such experience that she could, that had been limited only by her imprisonment.

  “Moira, you arrival here at this time is a stroke of luck, I have need for someone with your talents.” Parkston then told her of his idea of stealing powers away from the ancient demons, and Moira had to try hard not to laugh. “There are still some details that need some work on, but I am hoping that you might have learnt a thing or two from your father that have, as yet, not occurred to me.” Parkston said.

  “Well, Simon, the first thing on your list is to find someone with the right birth date, and if my memory serves me correctly, wasn`t Evelyn, your brother`s daughter, born at midnight on Halloween?” Moira declared brightly.

  “My niece?” Parkston replied hesitantly, initially appalled at the suggestion.

  “Yes, your niece, we would need to kill your brother Mark, and his snotty wife Susan, of course, but surely you are not that close to either of them.” Moira replied lightly, but with an evil gleam in her green eyes while watching to see how he took this suggestion, when he did not instantly complain she carried on.

  “Then you could take both Evelyn and her sister Stephanie into your care. Think about it, we could throw a Halloween party to celebrate her birthday and then use it for our black mass.” Moira said in a cold voice.

  “Even if I agree to that Moira, we still have to find the Key of Tartarus, without it we cannot enter into the hell dimension of Tartarus and steal the golden Ark of Baʿal Berith away from the demons, and as far as I know, the exact location of the key has been lost for millennia.” Parkston said despondently. “I have been searching my library for even a mention of it, but so far without any luck whatsoever.

  “Oh have no fear Simon, for I know exactly where it is.” Moira said triumphantly, and watched as Parkston grew more impatient as he waited for her to tell him the location of the key. “The key is hidden within the fortress of Asbaritch, within the Dreamscape of Lord Asbaritch.

  “Then we are indeed lost Moira, for no one has ever entered his realm and escaped from it, it is impossible, and to expect someone to succeed after they have first found and stolen something hidden within his fortress is ludicrous in the extreme.” Parkston lamented loudly.

  “Oh there you are wrong Simon, I know of one man who has got the better of Lord Asbaritch and escaped from the Dreamscape, all we need to do is make it worth his while to enter into the Dreamscape once again, and I know of two real good reasons that will make him enter it.” Moira said ecstatically.

  “Then all we need is the Mist of Glairmore, so that we can enter into the hell dimension unseen by the demons, steal the golden Ark, and then return to our own dimension, still unseen, and in this way ensuring that we do not bring death and destruction to our own world.” Parkston declared optimistically, and his eyes locked on those of Moira to see if she knew how to locate this last item, for that would make the impossible quest possible.

  “My sources tell me that the Mist of Glairmore was last seen in St. Mary`s church in Edwinstowe, near to the legendary Sherwood Forest in Nottinghamshire. It was hidden in the grave of one Sir Edward Glairmore, a relative of its supposed creator, Sir Richard Glairmore, perhaps, so we should be able to find it without too much trouble. Although as I understand it, while the artefact was indeed built by Sir Richard, it was in fact designed by the goddess Hekate.” Moira told her bemused listener. “As you no doubt know Simon, Glairmore was an ancient Satanist, and completely unknown to anyone living in modern times, and he died a violent and painful death after embarking upon a perilous quest, no prizes for guessing what he was after.” Moira laughed now as she watched as Parkston`s smile disappeared.

  Parkston had indeed paled after hearing the latter part of Moira`s revelation, but quickly recovered. “Moira, you seem to know the location of everything to do with our quest, even the most impossible of items. Now perhaps you had better come clean, Moira, have you been tampering with my dreams?” Parkston asked rather angrily.

  “And what if I have Simon; is the prize not worth a little dream tampering?” Moira replied enthusiastically.

  Parkston looked at the young woman and a smile appeared on his face as he slowly shook his head in amazement. “Maybe this once Moira, however, I would not want you to do it again, be warned my young friend, I like my brain the way it is, not manipulated to suit your ends. I also hope that you have thought everything through, because I do not want to end up as Sir Richard did, very dead and long forgotten.” Parkston roared out the last part, his eyes now bore into Moira`s eyes, holding them by the power of his mind, until he finally released her and made to walk away in search of his wife, so that he could tell her all that Moira Bourbon had said, however Moira stopped him.

  “Oh, Simon, I almost forgot, we shall require a suitable human sacrifice when we perform the initial ceremony on the Glairmore device. Anyone will do as long as they will not be missed.” Moira added and then laughed.

  “I just hope that there is nothing else you may have forgotten Moira, something important, such as another sacrifice.” Parkston roared and strode off looking for his wife.

  Moira looked after him, a little annoyed at having to act subservient to one who needed her help to make
this quest happen. However, she would put up with it for now, while she had need of him to help her bring her father back from the grave.

  Chapter Two

  Assembling the Essentials

  The Satanists decided that their first task would be to seek out and locate the Mist of Glairmore, as this was in the Church of St. Mary`s in Edwinstowe, it should not provide them with any problems or dangers, as long as they took care not to be seen. Once they had acquired the device, they could then proceed with the rest of the plan, which was more problematical.

  Mrs Knightly was given the task of securing a suitable sacrifice, for no respectable black mass was ever conducted without one. She and the other members of the coven were in luck, she came across a young man walking wearily along the road to Parkston.

  “You look tired young man, and too young to be tramping the roads of England, your family will be worried about you.” Mrs Knightly said in a kindly voice that hid her motives for approaching the young man.

  “I am old enough, and there is no one to worry about me, I do what I want and go where I want, I certainly do not want to be tied down to some boring 9 till 5 job. However, I could do with a bit of work at the moment, my funds are disappearing fast, and I could also do with somewhere to sleep tonight, do you know of any temporary work going locally.” The young man replied in a very surly manner.

  “You are in luck young man, we need someone to help us in the manor house, it will be for two days work only I`m afraid, just a few odd jobs but you will get a bed for the two night, your meals, and one hundred pounds, do you want the job or not?” Mrs Knightly asked brusquely.