“The Maldar”

Episode Two

 

 

       The old woman lay in the bed as the summer sun penetrated the makeshift blinds behind the curtains.  Her strength was minimal and her tiny voice barely made a whisper as she called his name.

 

    “Devon,” she said in a quiet tone.

 

    The young man entered the room fast, but silent, like a cat, as if his feet weren’t touching the floor.  He sat in the chair by his Mother’s deathbed, not understanding what was happening.  She had sheltered him from death, but also life and in their wake, good and evil.  Now in her final hours, he must be shown all four. 

 

    There was a weakness in her body, but not mind.  Sixty years in the cloak of a nun had made her strong.  The cancer had stolen the light from her body and she struggled to hold the hand of the only son she had ever known. 

 

    “Mama, you need to rest.  Please don’t try to talk.  You’ve been like this before.  You’ll get better.”

 

    Silence interrupted their words.  Tears ran down her face and it told him that this time was different.  There was no recovery and the blinking of her lashes freed the tears that built in her eyes.

 

    “Don’t leave me mother.  There is so much that I need for you to show me.  Please.”  She mustered the strength to squeeze his hand.

 

    “Shhhhhhh.  It will be ok Devon. There are things you must know.  I have been wrong to keep them from you.  Your safety depends on it.”  She pushed herself up in bed.

 

    “Devon, clear your mind and concentrate on what I am thinking.  You have the power to gain knowledge from anyone.  All you have to do is concentrate.  Search my mind, know my life and in it know yours.”  He glared out of the small space in the window.  The gravestones, some over two hundred years old, seemed to call out beckoning his mother.  He shut out his thoughts and turned to her.

 

    “I will Mama, but it will change nothing.”  She silently nodded and closed her eyes.  Somehow he knew what lay in her mind and could feel her guilt for concealing his past.  He had always tried to read her thoughts when he was young and it fueled his imagination.  Now, he was about to find out the truth about his past. 

 

    “Could it be more horrifying than the thoughts and dreams?”  He knew it was nothing simple, for Catherine Marie Waters was honest to a fault and her character was what gave her strength.  He closed his eyes and concentrated.  Flashes of light flooded his mind and projected into his brain.  He was drowning in a sea of emotions, words, and light.  Sounds filled his mind, millions of syllables at once.  It was more than he could comprehend, then it became understandable.  The memories were now rhythmically flashing in front of him at a high rate of speed one episode at a time, the car accident in her youth which killed her parents, the operation which left her baron, her decision to go into the holy order, the years of study and her time in Rome.  It slowed as he came to her trip to Pennsylvania and her reason for going.  The pope’s orders were read to the group.  The walls of the Vatican stood tall.  Magnificent art lined the walls.  Statues stood in awe and distrust of the malevolent scheme that was contrived.

 

    “Sacrifice the Child if its demon origins are verified.”  The words struck his very soul.  The memories flashed forward.  She was now at his birthplace.  His natural mother was speaking with the group.  He saw the pain she endured in labor and then the vision of her agonizing during birth.  She writhed in pain while begging them to spare her child.  She knew it was of demon origin.  The doctor tried desperately to save the young girl when the child had awakened in the womb in a frenzied state.  The baby tore at her to get out.  The Monsieur who cared for the young girl watched the birth of Devon and the destruction of Anna and he cried out.  He was still very much in love and her departure from this world would tear out his soul.

 

    The nun quickly wrapped the child in a blanket, its face was distorted and changed colors as it fought to get away from the nun.  Noises came from the child that horrified all that were present.

 

    Anna was motionless; eyes opened still crying out for her newborn child.  She had fought the church to protect him and begged them not to sanction an abortion.  In her final breath,she touched the nun’s hand that held her baby. Her lips barely formed the words.

 

    “Quod Angelus est Deo.”  The nun watched as she passed into the next life and Sister Catherine Waters looked upon the child and prayed.  The words spoken by his mother was “He is an angel of God.”  Tears formed on Devon’s face as he absorbed the memories. 

 

    “That abomination must not live,” the Arch Bishop exalted. 

 

    “We have our evidence.  Prepare him for the cleansing.”  The words were just another expression for murder.  The discussions had been in-depth what to do if the child were born with a demon spirit.  She wrapped the child in a white blanket and left the room to prepare him.  Sister Catherine held the child out in front of her and placed him on the wooden altar.  She was frightened but determined to carry out the wishes of the church.    She bathed the child in holy water.  Its screams were shrill and not of this world.

 

    An apparition seemed to move in and out of the child as she prepared for its execution.  The nun prayed the prayer of absolution and a dark haze seemed to rise from the child’s mouth.  Like a cloud of dark gas, it floated just lighter air and then dissipated into nothing.

 

    She looked down at the child who had now completely changed in appearance.  It was the most beautiful infant she had ever seen. There had never been a lovelier baby born to earth.  It had the beauty of an angel and it glowed with the grace of God’s blessings.  Sister Catherine had never touched another man and was not disposed to sexual desire, but her lust for a baby had always been overwhelming.  She dreamed of having a child and raising it as her own. 

 

    The baby was placed on the altar quietly looking up at her.  A wave of emotion overcame her. She slowly lifted it to her and cuddled it with a mother’s love.  A white light filled the room as the power of God had taken over.  The child placed its small hands on her breast and her nipples hardened.  She stiffened with fear.   Her breast began to swell, producing milk and her entire body filled with a motherly instinct.  She had lost all resistance and her love for the child had no boundaries.  She slowly removed her cloth to allow the baby to feed.  The trembling of her fingers showed her apprehension.  Her sinner’s dream was never sex, it was to have a child, to love someone more than herself and the Lord had answered her prayer. 

 

    Her breath became rapid as she contemplated the fate of the child and her own existence.  She fell to her knees with the child still in her arms, weeping and praying for direction.  The Monsignor and the Arch Bishop burst through the door with the tools in their hands and hate in their heart.  They would never spare the child, but they didn’t have a chance.  The altar was empty and neither Sister Catherine Winters nor the child would ever be located.

 

    The memories progressed as her journey took them to Silver City, Montana to an old friend who devoted himself to God years ago and lived a life of solitude outside the small town.  The old monastery protected him from the misguided intent of the church and the evil who sought him.  Not only did the demons of hell search for him, but the illuminati desired his power and needed him for their plan of world domination. 

 

    Her memories transferred to him, but also her wisdom and knowledge of sixty years became part of who he was. He opened his eyes after the last twenty one years filled his mind now knowing that the woman who had taken care of him was not who had conceived him.  He watched as her tears formed and slowly gathered in the corner of her eyes, then fell to the pillow where she placed her head.  She was too weak to speak and her lips formed the words. 

 

    “I’m sorry”.  He rose from the chair and kissed her forehead.  He pressed his face against hers the way she had done his entire life.

 

    “Thank you Mama for saving me and showing me what true love means.”  She looked at him softly, no longer sobbing.  Sister Catherine was finally at peace and as she drew her final breath, strength came from above.

 

    “Your destiny has not been decided.  Every man has free will and so do you.  Pray my son and your path will be shown to you.”  She laid her head back and her body began to relax.  She squeezed his hand one last time. 

 

   “I love you Devon.”  He laid his head down on her shoulder and sobbed.

 

    “I love you too Mama.”  She quietly entered into death and left Devon with nothing but what she had taught him and the knowledge that had just been given to him.  With it, he knew the path that he must take and what he must do.

 

    Thank you so much for taking the time to read my work.  I would love to hear your thoughts in the comments below.