The Chamber of Sins -
Chapter 3.2 "The Order"
Margo moaned and opened her eyes. Robert coiled over her body and examined her lean, pale features.
“Are you alright there?” He asked ironically.
The girl smirked and swore at him.
“Too nervous for a ghost, don’t you think?” He said and stretched his hand to help her. But, still dizzy, the girl ignored his help and faltered two more steps, only to collapse again.
Robert strode in her direction, his eyes observing her worriedly.
“Are you alright?”
Margo didn’t answer. She felt her body numb.
“Please help,” she whispered.
She was floating forty inches above the ground while something was sucking her energy. The aggressive vortex disappeared, but a thin cord piercing the ceiling kept her connected to it. It was drawing sparkling energy, fuelling an invisible dark force. Robert seized the thread and tried to sever it. Unfortunately, it was steel resistant, and his gesture only worsened the situation since the cord enlarged and started pulling the vital force more rapidly.
Robert panicked and, grabbing the cup next to his bed, smashed it to the floor. Tens of pieces of white porcelain shattered in the room. The boy reached a sizeable part and rushed to cut the pump. Before doing it, Robert saw a flaming sword severing the cord, and Margo descended and rolled on the carpet. Derek was blocking the outside daylight with his massive form. He glared caustically at the boy, making him feel useless.
Robert turned his back to the angel and, lifting the girl’s body, laid her delicately on the bed.
“Nothing earthly can cut a mystic object or living being,” Derek underlined, making Robert scoff.
“And you hate bragging about that!” He muttered.
The door opened, and Madame Lionette entered the room. Robert glared at her, surprised.
“Is this not your day off?”
“Your mother called me. Are you alright, sweetheart?” The woman came closer to the boy.
“I am fine,” the boy confirmed as trying to hide the porcelain pieces under his bed.
“No, you are not! You should stay in bed.” The woman patted his wet hair.
“I am quite tired,” Robert said, peeking at the girl. He smiled at the thought she was invisible to the rest of the people; he felt he owned her. In a way. He shook his head, surprised.
What is wrong with me? She is a mad girl—a DEAD mad girl.
“Come, sit down and drink this cup of tea. It is good for your weak body. And you’re still burning,” Lionette said. “What happened to you, boy?” She whispered. She took out of her pocket the Saint Peter’s compass. The artefact radiated a warm blue light while pulsing with a moderate frequency. She scanned the boy’s body with the ancient device. It started flickering faster, and at the end, the light of the artefact surrounded the boy.
How is it possible? The woman thought. “It can’t be,” she muttered while swallowing her tears.
“Are you alright, Lionette?” the boy asked.
“I am alright, honey. I am alright,” Lionette replied while hiding the compass.
“What is that thing? The thing you are hiding?” the boy questioned.
“Did you see it?” Lionette asked, surprised.
“The blue light? Of course, I did. It was my mum’s favourite colour, remember?”
“Of course, I remember, sweetheart,” the woman sighed.
“So?” Robert continued.
“First, I need you to tell me what happened to you. Then, I can help you,” Lionette said and gazed into the boy’s eyes.
After Robert finished the story, following the chain of events but living Margo out, Lionette gasped.
“This has never happened before. It is crazy. We need to replace a way to get rid of the pendant. Your life is in danger!” The woman gulped the air, got up from the bed, and she stood up for a second to regain her strength. Her temples pulsed painfully, and the room became all grey for a millisecond. A cold sweat invaded her forehead, and her legs turned numb.
“I need to show you something,” she said and waved at Robert to follow her. The boy followed Lionette to her room situated on the ground floor. Lionette went to her desk and, unlocking the drawer, took out a key.
She twisted it in a keyhole at the base of her desk lamp. The floor under the desk opened while it lifted twenty inches. A deep hollow appeared on the perfectly cut marble floor. Lionette disappeared inside, followed closely by Robert. They had to descend on the fragile frame-built flight of stairs for five minutes. The air was getting unbreathable because of the dump and lack of ventilation. The corridor dug in the stone was narrow, allowing only one person to pass at the time.
They walked until they arrived in a spacious hall illuminated by a modern electrification network. A ten-foot-high iron net was fortifying the cave from the floor to the middle of the wall. Lionette pressed a combination of numbers on her phone, and a few iron boards slid up, revealing an entrance. Once inside, Robert felt that he had entered a history museum. Iron shelves on the walls were protecting thousands of holy artefacts behind secured glass locked with efficacious electronic systems. Artefacts that had slain demons and helped exorcise possessed people were shining in the cold-white light of hundreds of projectors.
Fascinated, Robert glued his fingers to the shielding glass while admiring the golden halberds surrounded by knives, crossbows, sharp javelins and flints.
In another section, wood coffers, pots and metallic objects with sophisticated mechanisms covered a generous space.
“What is that?” Robert asked curiously while pointing at a golden chest that occupied an entire shelf.
The box was gilded with gold, tightened with a yellow moulding around, four precious metal rings hanging from its four corners. The rings would hold shittim wood staves. A golden lid decorated with two golden cherubim covered the chest.
Lionette smiled.
“My darling child, this is the Ark of Covenant.”
Robert’s eyes widened.
“THE Ark?”
“Yes, THE Ark,” the woman confirmed, amused by his childishness.
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