Rise of Tempest Merlin

Chapter 23

If malevolence had the power to manifest itself in stone and mortar, then Rag Castle was its purest embodiment. It bespoke, with its sombre grey walls and stagnant putrid moat, a clear warning to stay away -- or else. A warning that seemed to have prevailed upon the wildlife of the area to perform a mass exodus many years ago. Doom-laden and desolate, its enormous bulk cast a pall of deep unease upon the land.

As Percy and Lilith drove across the drawbridge into the courtyard their first impressions were radically different.

Percy felt pleased with himself for having discovered such an abysmal pile, and was looking forward to exploring the interior.

Lilith felt violated. She had the oddest sensation that someone had just probed a finger into her v****a and was exploring her insides. She wriggled involuntarily and experienced a sudden uprush of tearful emotion. Her head felt hot and vague, and then icily cold and unpleasantly clear. Vivid tableaux of medieval abasements and cruelties shot through her mind like an obscene slide show. It stopped after a second, and left her feeling low and crushed and stained.

'Lilith! What's the matter?'

'Oh God, I've just had a funny turn. I feel foul, and acutely conscious of badness -- people have suffered horrible tortures in this place. Such wretchedly sick things have been done here. Don't worry, I'll be okay in a second.'

'A strong cup of tea will settle your nerves.' Percy was generally at a loss with women, and psychic women were light years beyond his comprehension.

'Nerves? Nerves! Arrrgh! For God's sake Percy, this is like Hades' antechamber, what the b****y hell possessed you to book us into this place?'

'I booked us in here because you said the television people wanted a place that exuded an authentic atmosphere of evil.'

'Yes, I know, but I didn't mean this authentic, this makes Dracula's Castle look homely.'

'Women,' muttered Percy, absolutely convinced that nothing in all creation could be so capricious.

'What?' she asked amusedly. 'Indulging in misogyny again? You sexist thug! Well, mister, I can feel a spell of premenstrual tension coming on, so you'd better try and be nice to me, dear.'

'Yes dearest, I'll be niceness itself,' he bantered, 'wouldn't dream of being anything else. Now let's go and check in, then we can take stock of the place.'

Percy and Lilith were quite a double act. He was forty-four, Irish, well built, and an ex priest. She was twenty-seven, Nigerian, petite, shapely, and an ex nun. The Church had condemned them both and expelled them from their vocations for sins of the flesh. That is, they had committed the sin of f*********n together. They did not accept expulsion quietly however, and caused a furore in the Church by mounting an eloquent public defence of their liaison. The media loved it. Their notoriety paid dividends in terms of celebrity and wealth, and afforded them the opportunity to pursue their passion for spiritual exotica.

The owner of Rag Castle felt he had rather too much spiritual exotica, and had invited Percy and Lilith to investigate. A television documentary about the recent bizarre happenings, and perhaps a televised exorcism, might do something to retrieve his fortunes and prevent imminent bankruptcy.

Frank James had bought the castle three years ago with the intention of cashing in on its ghastly appearance and haunted reputation. At astronomical expense he had carried through his plan to convert the place into a hotel. He had been confident that his guests would be thrilled and delighted by the prospect of encountering spooks and poltergeists -- he had been wrong. Initially people booked with him, but most didn't stay. Those that did tended to become psychologically disturbed, and five of his guests had died of heart failure. Thus Frank James was a dejected and woebegone man when he welcomed Percy and Lilith in the lounge bar at Rag Castle.

'Thanks for offering to help,' said Frank, 'I really am terribly grateful, but I'm not optimistic that you'll succeed in evicting whatever's blighting the place. Three exorcists have tried, and each was stricken by an extremely virulent bout of diarrhoea -- one nearly died.'

'Tell us about the people who died of heart failure, did they have anything in common?' asked Lilith.

'Well, er, yes, as a matter of fact they did. They were all men and each was found completely n***d. And...well...er,' Frank stuttered in embarrassment and redirected his gaze from Lilith to Percy, 'they were all erect.'

'What? You mean they were all found standing up!' exclaimed Lilith, repressing a fit of the giggles at Frank's quaint sense of propriety.

'No, no, I mean...er...'

'She knows what you mean Frank,' growled Percy. 'Lilith delights in mischief, and believes a light heart and levity are undervalued panaceas. She was also educated in a convent, so what can you expect? I know it's irritating, but try to grin and bear it, I have to.'

Lilith beamed an arch smile at Percy and resumed her questions. 'Is there much poltergeist activity: footsteps, doors opening and shutting, things moving of their own accord, that sort of thing?'

'All the time, and its getting worse, especially at night.' Frank winced and shuddered as he spoke. 'Things have intensified over the past few nights, even with medication I've found it impossible to sleep, so I'm moving out. After 6pm you will be the only people in the castle apart from Virginia Tate, my deputy. She will be leaving tomorrow morning. Most of the staff left yesterday, and the few remaining will go this afternoon. I'm sorry if you expected company, but no one will stay after what was seen on Sunday.'

'An apparition?' Percy asked.

Frank's face whitened, he took a deep breath and said: 'Well, I suppose it must have been, it appeared at the end of the bar, just over there, in front of everyone, stayed for about five seconds and disappeared. It was a monster, a horrible, squat deformity. It stunk to high heaven as well -- something akin to rotten eggs and the stuff you find in a cesspit. There was pandemonium, people were violently sick, absolutely traumatised. Everyone was utterly bewildered and shocked. I don't blame them for leaving.'

Lilith's pulse quickened, she felt anxious and disturbed. 'I don't like this, Percy. Frank is describing an elemental; a demonic thing conjured up from wickedness and hate. The men who died in a state of s****l arousal could have been the victims of a succubus. The atmosphere is charged, it's positively rancid with ill intent. As Frank said, things are escalating; a storm is brewing. We could be stepping into danger, you more so than I.'

'What's a succubus?' Frank asked.

'It's a female demon of the night, devoted to having s****l i*********e with men whilst they're asleep.' Lilith answered. 'If there is a succubus at work, it would seem that she's developed a taste for murder as well as s*x,' she added.

Percy pondered for a moment before speaking. 'Yeah, you're quite right, Lilith, it would be stupid to hang around with a serial succubus on the prowl, and fatally stupid to fall asleep. But all this is speculation; we have no solid evidence that such a thing exists. And the thing that was seen in the bar could be a case of mass hallucination. The dead men may have been done to death by someone or something this side of the grave, not by a s*x-mad ghost. The alleged poltergeist activity could be anything. No. We need to verify what Frank has told us for ourselves. We can't commission a T.V. documentary on the basis of hearsay and hysteria. No offence, Frank.'

Frank appeared leaden and fatigued. 'No offence taken, Mister Percy, I'm a pragmatic man myself, or used to be. Well, I sincerely hope your scepticism is not myopic, and you find enough material to justify a documentary. This place has damned near finished me; it would be a small triumph if I could wring some recompense out of its miserable neck.'

'We'll do our best,' said Percy.

At 6.10pm Percy and Lilith were alone in the castle. There was a hushed expectancy about the place. The halls and passages, noiseless and still, had a thick atmosphere of brooding coldness. The pair had retreated to their rooms as soon as Frank had taken his leave, feeling a need to establish their own private space. Their apartment was plush and spacious -- one of fifty-three similar suites. Lilith had just showered, and was drying herself in front of Percy as he lay with his feet up on the bed.

'You like me n***d, don't you, Father?'

'Yeah, Sister, you saucy little wench.'

She was right. Percy was captivated by her nakedness. He adored her black silky skin, and the beautiful thrust of her firm little breasts. And now she was responding to his gaze with teasing little gyrations of her hips and bottom. Her eyes met his and she danced an African dance, sinuous and flaunting; an erotic invitation that has enticed men into breathless captivity since time out of memory.

They made love. At first slowly and languorously, savouring and touching each other with quiet pleasure. Then with heightened passion, acutely alive to their excitement, building and intensifying their needs with each kiss and caress. Finally, i*********e became a compulsion; an urgent, sharp, surging drive to satiate their senses in a burst of warm, delicious pleasure. They came together, and laughed like children.

The castle sensed their pleasure. It detected their bodies - their skin, sweat, organs, bones and sinews. It wanted their pleasure. It wanted them.

In the castle floorboards creaked, walls shuddered, ceilings flexed and shivered. Elements warped and fused into strange contortions. Atoms and molecules spun into unnatural forms. The castle pulsed with malefic creation. Agonies caught in stone, blood, unbearable t*****e, all its deep resources of pain and malevolence bodied forth playmates for Percy and Lilith.

Lilith felt the hate gathering around them and shook with a sudden surge of apprehension. Percy felt nothing -- congenitally impervious to anything beyond his five senses.

'Percy, I think we should leave, I'm really worried, I think this place is evil and dangerous.'

'We don't know that, we have no evidence to...'

'Dunderhead! Lack-brain! You know nothing, priest-man!'

Percy shivered at the force and strangeness of the utterance. The voice and words had come from Lilith, but they were not hers.

'Lilith, what's wrong?'

'What? Oh, I don't know. I remember speaking but not what I said. How odd. What did I say?'

'Well, you said I was a dunderhead, a lack-brain and a priest-man who knows nothing. And your accent and intonation were different -- very precise and Nigerian.'

'I wouldn't say such insulting things. And the words are old-fashioned; they're like the words grandma used to use.'

'What was your grandma like?'

'I have very little memory of her -- she died when I was four -- but the family speak of her only in terms of extreme respect and deference. Apparently, she was a Juju priestess of awesome reputation. Men of power from every continent craved her blessings, and woe betide anyone who provoked her anger. It is said she could congeal the life-blood of her foes with a mere word or glance. As you can imagine, people generally tried to stay on her good side.'