Black sky. Black earth. Black sea. Marcus found himself again in the same dream, but this time, not in the same way. He was lying on the sand, gazing at the sky with the blankness that was comparable to the barren place. Emptiness filled his mind. And yes, he had been like this for what seemed like hours until a wave of water came rushing towards him and when it touched his bare feet, this somehow pulled him out of the void state.
His thoughts and emotions ran wild then as if it was freed from being imprisoned, and with this, confusion immediately clouded his mind. His lips tensed and his brows furrowed as he contemplated all of the recent events.
He was confused because ever since he had exorcised the demon in André’s body, this dream came into full swing. How? Why? Was it possible that this was the work of the demon? Most likely not for he was sure he exorcised the damn entity into oblivion. Very sure of it.
Confused because although he was aware that he was in a dream, his senses felt so real. He could feel the coolness of the water touching his bare feet, legs, arms, and torso. He could feel the warm breeze in his nostrils. And most especially, he could feel the shooting pain in his charred right hand, radiating upwards into his shoulder and chest, specifically into the heart region. He couldn’t pinpoint exactly what but there was something about being in this place that was downright different.
And lastly, confused because amidst feeling this, he felt a different sense of safety entirely. Like in one side of his body, he felt the animosity of the place, and on the other, he felt secure...brought up in heaven’s gate. Marcus couldn’t explain it, but it made him feel calm — quite a welcoming feeling in this kind of environment.
***
It had been two days since the exorcism incident. The staff of the Rogratiatto Household was busy, especially the ones assigned in both André and Father Marcus’ rooms. New linens were brought in every day; towels and bedcovers in particular. Why? Because the two men had been in a feverish state, with temperature as high as 40 degrees Celsius, and that aside from injectable paracetamol to lower it down, sponge bathing was required by the house doctor to assist with the treatment. It had produced a successful effect so far, well...on André’s case that is on the third day.
In the midst of the activities, one woman had been busier than the others. Ysabelle had taken it upon herself to take care of the two unconscious men, visiting them in intervals to make sure that they receive proper treatment. Both rooms were of different hallways, but good thing it was on the same floor. Although she was no nurse or doctor, her wide experiences were enough to be called a seasoned caregiver. And aside from that, her guilt was still nagging at her. It wasn’t giving her any proper sleep the whole two days, most especially when the exorcist priest’s burning eyes pop right out of her mind. With André now in stable condition and with the defervescence of his fever, she could focus more on Marcus who was still showing no signs of waking up.
After choosing a simple long-sleeved sundress and donning her hair down, she left her room intent on visiting the priest’s chamber just below hers. When she arrived there, Father Julien had just come out of the room with a cellphone in hand.
“I need to take this call, Ms. Ysabelle. Can you keep an eye on Father Marcus for a while?” he asked, noticing her presence in the hallway.
“Ah...ye—yes, of course, Father, ” although taken aback, she gave him an answer. So easy of him to leave her alone with his colleague.
During the whole two days of taking care of Marcus, Father Julien had been together with her, either assisting with her and the staff treatments or just staying inside the room praying. She had been formal in her actions during those times, keeping as little to no glances with Father Marcus’ state of undress. She had been successful with it so far and that was because of Father Julien’s presence, but now that they would be alone together, it immediately made her nervous, and that feeling tripled then the moment she opened the chamber door.
The room was quiet, lit with the soft morning sun entering through the glass window. It had a smell of jasmine and mint, probably because of the newly laundered linens stacked in a corner of the bedside table. She gets the same atmosphere like these whenever she comes in every morning in Marcus’ room, but somehow, she felt this third morning was different. The air was a bit heavier than usual even though the windows were open, and she had wondered if Father Julien had come to notice it too.
Sitting down in her usual stool, she fought to keep her eyes averted once again so as not to ogle on the priest. She kept herself looking at his sleeping face, which by now was a bit more serene than the previous days. Checking on Marcus’ temperature with the back of her hand, she found that his fever had finally eased down. It relieved her, but when her attention was caught with the sight of the bandaged right hand, her breath hitched.
A trail of what looked like a vine in black ink sneaked its way up into Marcus’ right shoulder and crossing down to his chest towards the heart region. It was odd — so odd — that she had just noticed it today. It gave her the chills looking at the tattoo, especially when she realized it had the same appearance as that of her cousin when he was still possessed. Aside from being a bit faded and located in André’s back, every detail of the marking was the same; the tendrils, the vines, and the shades of fire.
Staring at it thoroughly, she felt a sudden urge to touch the markings right then and there. Without further thought, she lifted her hand and traced his arm lightly. The tattoo seemed raised when she touched it, but it wasn’t that fact that made her surprised though, it was the feeling when her fingertips contacted the black ink. She fell in a daze; her eyes blurry and her head lightheaded. More like the preliminary sensation when one is due to die because of blood loss.
“What is...this...feeling?” she asked, momentarily spellbound. She was paying too much attention to the sensation that she didn’t even notice Marcus’ left arm move.
***
Marcus had been in and out of consciousness and for as long as he could remember during those times, he had found that a woman was taking care of him with the gentleness that he could describe as calming, exactly like he was in heaven’s gate.
This gentleness is the same one he felt now when he opened his eyes. It surprised him yes, for he had never expected that the woman would be Ysabelle Rogratiatto.
But she seemed to be paying attention with tracing her fingers on his right arm. Why? he asked then.
Her more-than-necessary touching was unbearable that he needed to stop it, and fast, so with his other hand, he captured her wrist swiftly and this made Ysabelle gasp in response. Their eyes connected and with that, a flurry of emotions brought their hearts beating in disarray.
“What are you doing?” said Marcus in a raspy, stern voice, quickly commanding his heart to beat in rhythm. He pulled her closer towards him, making her lean considerably in her stool. As a consequence of this inches-away position, they felt each other’s warm breath.
“Fa—Father?” she whispered, wide-eyed looking down at him, “Father Marcus!”
“Ysabelle...what are you doing? he asked again, mentioning her name in a breathy fashion. He awarded her with cold eyes, but ones that were enshrouded with confused emotions. This made her feel like he was searching for sins in her soul.
“I was...I was just...looking at...your...tattoo, ” she replied with breaths hitching with every word.
Why does he have this certain effect on her?
Shaking herself from her shock, she wrenched her wrist free from his hold and stood up. Marcus didn’t miss her face blushing in clear reds then.
“Tattoo?” Marcus parroted, brows knitting together in confusion. “I don’t have a tattoo Ysabelle.”
“You do!” she replied quickly, “Although...I don’t know if that is a tattoo. Look at your right arm!”
And Marcus did so, lifting this particular body part for him to examine...for a long minute.
“You are hallucinating maybe? I don’t see any markings on my arm, ” he said with ease, but it was not after a slight twinge in his lips escaped.
“What?!” Ysabelle let out. She blinked thrice to clear her vision and gazed on the markings once again. “But there it is, see?!” she stated, pointing to the black ink. As if it wasn’t enough, she walked closer to him and hastily grabbed his arm, palming his skin with her other hand so as to prove her point. But another point was known when she did it. Her face blushed even more when she realized her mistake. She released his arm in a hasty fashion and backed up towards the wall. Marcus, although surprised to have been casually touched by a woman, couldn’t help but smirk. This caught Ysabelle dumbstruck. Priests weren’t supposed to smirk right? But he did!
“I’m...I’m sorry Father. I didn’t mean to—, ” she quickly announced but was interrupted by him.
“It’s fine, ” he said, taking a deep breath whilst sitting up. For a moment there, Ysabelle thought that he was totally naked with only the bed sheet covering his lower body. She would have darted out of the room if it was so, but glad that he was wearing a black trouser.
“By the way, thank you for taking care of me. I appreciate your time and effort, ” Marcus stated after he drew himself at the edge of the bed.
“Oh, it’s nothing...” she replied, suddenly feeling butterflies in her stomach. Examining his overall presence, she found him looking good. In fact, more than good. He looked like he wasn’t even ill at all. He took no effort when he pulled himself up from lying and he didn’t even exert himself when he sat down at the edge of the bed. “Oh! Are you feeling—”
“Better now?” Marcus finished, and this made Ysabelle nod consequently. He smiled then and stated, “Yes, I am. Very.”
He wasn’t an impatient man. For the most part, priests including exorcist priests are supposed to be a man with considerable patience, but for some reason, there was a pulling force inside him that meant time was of the essence.
“You are?” Ysabelle asked in disbelief. Odd of him to recuperate that quickly.
“Yes, now, I need to prepare myself. I need to see your cousin right away, ” said Marcus, once he stood up.
Ysabelle took a step back to open up a wider space between them, her hands trembling. Why? Because this God-like of a man with priestly aura seemed too casual to show his thick slabs in front of a virginal woman. And...he was towering her alright. She never expected that a mere 4 inches of difference in their heights could lead to her feeling intimidated.
She never felt intimidated before...not once...not ever in her lifetime. So why did she? To him?
“Why?” was her immediate question. She did want to know the answer to her own question, but the latter issue about him needing to talk to André warranted an explanation too.
“I need to talk to him, Ysabelle. I need to discuss some...matters, ” he answered rather vaguely. “He is awake now, I presume?”
Ysabelle, after remembering André’s condition, nodded. “Yes, he...he had finally woken up yesterday night, ” she replied. “The doctor says he is in stable condition, but he still needs to rest in bed.”
“Ah, good, ” Marcus remarked. He walked past her and into a table with a pitcher of water. When he poured the clear liquid into a glass, he heard her call again.
“Father?” she spoke.
“Yes?” Marcus replied but didn’t look at her way.
“Are you really sure you are okay?”
“Hmmm?”
“I mean, your hand...” she mentioned, looking down at the bandaged part.
For a moment, she thought he was going to say it’s fine, but without expecting it, he turned around to face her and pulled out the bandage, dropping the thin linen on the floor. Lifting his hand for her to see, he then stated, “It is fine now, see?”
The sight made Ysabelle turn red with embarrassment at first and then blue with bewilderment. How could? How could his charred hand heal that fast?
“As I said, this is just a momentary setback in the exorcism. You don’t need to concern yourself with it at all, ” he reassured, then turned back his attention on the table and drank his glass of water.
“That’s...a relief to hear, ” said she, smiling softly but still with a residue of disbelief.
As if on cue, the main door opened and in came Father Julien.
“Ah! Father Marcus! You’re awake!” he exclaimed, smiling towards his way.
“Good morning Father Julien, ” Marcus greeted with a nod.
“Good to have you back Father, ” was his colleague’s reply, relief clear in his voice.
Ysabelle watched as they exchanged casual glances. It perplexed her even more when she saw Father Julien acting as if it was a common occurrence for him to see the exorcist priest in sudden good health.
“Where are my clothes?” Marcus asked straight away.
“Hmm, that. I believe it is placed in a hanger, in the change room Father, ” he replied, looking at an entrance into another room which Ysabelle thought is the change room.
“I see, ” Marcus voiced. After drinking the last of the liquid, he turned to Ysabelle and gave her a wry smile. “Would you excuse me for a moment Ms. Ysabelle?” he said.
It didn’t take her too long. She knew exactly what privacy he meant. She nodded quickly and said, “Oh, of course, Father. Anyway, I need to go. It is good to see you well.”
Leaving a smile on Father Julien’s way, in haste she opened the main door and out she went. In the hallway, she placed a hand on her chest as if she was clutching her heart. Just that moment...just that simple word alone, it made her heartbeat jet out of control. Maybe it was trivial a word for others, maybe it was insignificant for all, but then the difference between Marcus calling her name in raw form and putting a respectable Miss before it meant a borderline of emotions exploding.
To Marcus, her exit was a solution for his disquieted heart. She didn’t even realize what effect she had on him when he found her in his room alone, all the more touching his arm. Her leaving could give him the chance to evaluate his emotions more. Truth be told, he wasn’t supposed to feel any attachable emotions for any person, most especially a woman. He wasn’t supposed to even show it. He was a priest for crying out loud. But why now that after André’s exorcism rite, he had been too much of a jumbled mess?
An understandable silence fell on the room for a moment when Ysabelle left. Marcus was still standing near the table, the empty glass still in his hand. Remembering what she said about a tattoo on his arm, he decided to ask Father Julien out of curiosity and in order to break the silence. “Have you noticed anything unusual with me Father?” He turned to face his colleague and stood ready to be inspected.As if it was a normal routine, Father Julien did as expected, scanning him from head to foot. “Hmmm... not that I can see, Father Marcus. You look just the same. Why do you ask?” he answered after a minute.“My arm. Do you notice anything peculiar about it?” was Marcus’ clear inquiry. Might as well go straight to the point than have his poor secretary decipher his words.“Hmmm?” But still, Father Julien was oblivious, so Marcus raised his right arm and displayed it in
Exhilarating.That’s what Marcus first thought of when his eager lips met Ysabelle’s. He had almost convinced himself that he was already devouring the lunch table’s dessert as she tasted of sweet honeyed strawberries and the curve of her lips were moist and velvety like a chocolate cake. With all the willpower he could muster up, he didn’t use it to stop this moment. Instead, when he found her unsteady, trying to push him lightly away with both of her hands, he snaked a hand in the small of her back and pressed her closer to his body. His back was against the balustrade to stabilize them at least for any possible imbalance. A fall down to the base of the stairs would be unlucky indeed, not to mention painful.There was still some tiny pang of guilt a priest like him was expected to feel when treading on restricted boundaries, but true enough, it didn’t rack his mind. His logical reasoning was already clouded in
Dinner started at the stroke of seven with all of the usual attendees present, but there was a new addition to them now and it was the youngest member of the family.Father Marcus and Father Julien were in their same seats and so were Sir Alfon, Madame Regina, and Ysabelle. Mehak, who just arrived from an art class, decided to sit beside her Auntie on the left.“I would like to make a toast, ” Madame Regina suddenly announced before their meal began. All of their attention was now on her. She stood up, took her glass of champagne, and raised it in the air. “To Father Marcus, for saving my son’s life.”Alfon somehow looked troubled, thinking whether to take his glass or not, but in the end, he did after Regina added, “And to my son, André, for staying strong and for his good health.”Cheers!All of them chorused happily but mostly,
Ysabelle stepped backward, stirred by his daring words. “Ple-please take the envelope. It contains your picture, ” she blurted out, her cheeks in a maddening blush. Good thing the light was red, otherwise, he would have seen how red her face was.“You are escaping again, Ysabelle, ” Marcus, on impulse, remarked grimly, but that didn’t hide how her name flowed smoothly in his tongue. Although he wasn’t irritated by her swift avoidance of the topic, he was unhappy about it. He thought that they had an equal understanding of the Question and Answer portion of their conversation and for her to keep evading it definitely was the opposite.“I am what?” Ysabelle clarified, unconsciously lifting her chin more.“You are intentionally dodging yourself on my questions. They are not interrogations lovely lady and yet you act very hostile about it, ” Marcus answered. He move
Father Marcus retreated to his chamber as quickly as he could. The whole course of it wasn’t simple though for his mind was in a whirlwind. The scenes inside Ysabelle’s room just kept popping out of his thoughts like a countdown.5—The kiss on her forehead...He slapped a palm on his face as he sat on a stool near his bed.4—Her seeming dislike on his touch...He cringed upon remembering it.3—The lightning-like slip of his cool and calm disposition...He clenched his teeth in disapproval.2—His impatience, the sudden surge of anger, and the burning feeling of his arm and eyes...He forced a long, deep sigh and tightened his balled-up fists.AndAnd
Marcus saw the look of alarm in Ysabelle’s face. He had been grilling her with questions last night and he knew that she wouldn’t want to be in that same position again. The last thing he would want to do to her was to ask about her family tree history, but her slip-of-the-tongue really did increase his curiosity. If indeed she was not Mehak’s aunt, then how was she related to the Rogratiatto Family?“Uhmm, you didn’t take your photo, Father. Aunt Regina handed it back to me in my room this morning, ” Ysabelle stated, seemingly trying to drop the subject and divert his focus.And it did, successfully.‘Goodness! Of all the memories she could revive, she had to pick that one?!’ his mind shouted.Marcus gently nodded and crossed his arms on his chest. “Yes, I can always get it when I come back to the mansion. During that time, I want you to give it
What looked like mere seconds of stay inside the caretaker’s bedroom was actually an unbearable hour of struggle for Marcus; a struggle for supremacy and the battleground was his body.He found himself in the same black environment, standing in front of a massive boulder where on top it was the demon leech itself, in a confident crouch and grinning at him from ear to ear. It wore a trench coat, in the same color of death. The collar of it was fixed upright making the cotton and its silky black locks seemingly merging into one.“H, ” Marcus bit out, spinning a few dozens of ways on how to tackle the parasite out of the imposing black boulder just so he could wipe the clever grin off its face.“Ahh, you act as if we are acquainted already when in fact this is our first time meeting, ” H grounded, looking amused at Marcus — his apparent landlord.“I know you eno
Although Ysabelle was worried sick about Father Marcus’ welfare, she was still able to doze off the moment she hit her bed. Fatigue and exhaustion is always the drawback of having to chaperone her niece and take pictures of the class tour all day long, and sleeping is always the best cure for it, especially when it is uninterrupted the whole night. Ysabelle was hoping to experience that, but her uninvited visitor had other plans.The bedroom door opened and closed without making a sound. No footsteps were heard too as the room’s carpet muffled it. But Marcus was present and was inching his way closer to the sleeping woman.Her face and chest were gently illuminated by the moon’s light passing through the half-open window. A bed sheet covered her warmly, but under it, she was wearing a loose-fitting, cropped tank top and a flimsy sleep short — the most comfortable sleeping garments she had ever worn. Gone were the thic
‘Angels are spiritual beings that can, to a certain degree, take on physical form at will. But when they descend to Earth as a Fallen Angel, they morph into a solid body, immortal yet dead, waiting for their final judgment to take place. They retain their abilities and powers; to use it for good or evil is their choice, but with the promise of Hell if they do so to hurt humans. Numerous reasons are present why an angel becomes a Fallen, but all of these led straight to their rules. Once broken, punishment is to be made. It is said that the greatest sin an angel can commit is to love something or someone more than God.’~ JMFelic (An overview)***Heavenly RealmHundreds of Years Ago“Are you happy now?” Mikha’el queried when they were left alone in the middle of a
Cold as ice — that’s what Ysabelle’s temperature felt first when Haien touched her face. She looked like a stone, literally, with her skin the color of gray similar to that of common statues in gardens. Her eyes were closed, but a fresh tear escaped from it oddly. It didn’t surprise the demon though, for he knew seconds from now she would breathe.Three...Two...One...And breathe she did, like a human revived from drowning.Her skin color changed to normal, her cheeks a rosy blush, and her lips returned to a shy red. The vibrancy of her hair had the same effect; silky and smooth, but the ends were a lot straighter now. She felt her head dizzy, but it was just brief for her focus was diverted into a much overwhelming feeling... the normalcy of her body.“Wha—t?” she uttered with measured breath, looking at her hands
“Ahhh, so much better, ” Haien aired out, opening his eyes and showing the heterochromatic orbs. He dragged as much oxygen as he could inside his lungs and lifted one leg to make a figure-four position. “Why, howdy everyone? How’s it going?” he asked coolly, turning his gaze on them.“My Prince, ” Earl Doubrava did a slight bow, “At last you have come back. Please, I am not an impatient man but I believe it is only timely that you should fulfill our end of the agreement now. You know already why.”H grinned, of course, he knew why. Marcus inside his dimension now was trying to summon his holy powers again. It is possible, although distant, that at any moment, by some freaking luck, he could escape again and have them battling ownership the second time.However, as a happy-go-lucky demon that he is, he just had to stall the moment for a bit of fun.
House of DoubravaPresentA shooting headache greeted Marcus when he awoke evening that same day. He cringed because of it and didn’t stand up for a while in order to let the ache pass. However, how was he going to stand up anyway when he found himself bound both hands on each side of the bed frame? Marcus quickly assessed the situation and thought of one word: danger.The unknown room that he was in had thick curtains pulled out to let the moonlight pass, but it still had an intimidating, death-threat aura for a number of reasons. One, it had a wooden podium set just a few feet away from the foot of the bed. Two, although Marcus couldn’t see, he could bet for sure that there was the same tattered, old book that he saw in the Altar Room of André. Three, gone was his cassock and was replaced with his pants and a new white shirt, buttons undon
Northeastern Region (Ancient City of Samaria)Days after the Miracle of ResurrectionAfter that faithful day, the resurrected girl and her family continued to live on with their normal lives. As requested, not one tongue spoke of the miracle. The neighbors kept silent and so did the family themselves. To ensure the girl’s complete recovery and safety, her father confined her inside the house; only able to visit and see the outside sky within the house backyard.The girl, understanding the circumstances that befell on her, obediently did as she was told. She asked no questions about what happened and gave no comment on her side of the story. It was her choice to be mute about it and so did her parents.As was before, her daily routines inside the house consisted mainly of house chores. She would clean the plates after their meals, too
Two years agoHouse of Doubrava“Lady Ysabelle, ” Earl Doubrava took the woman’s right hand and kissed its soft skin, “it is good to see you again.”Ysabelle gave a light smile. “Earl, good day.”She watched as the head of the Priory of Sion sat on a solo sofa chair, waiting for him to gesture the same to her at the opposite one across the desk. She did when he raised a hand whilst saying, “Please do sit Milady.”They were in a drawing room on the first floor of the enormous house. One bodyguard was seen stationed at the entrance of the door and another one opposite him. The room had a welcoming atmosphere; draped with thick yellow curtains and adorned with little crystal chandeliers on each side.Behind the Earl’s back stood a man wearing
Five minutes earlier...H was enjoying himself blocking the exorcist priest’s yelling whilst taking in all of the woman’s being; her flushed cheeks, the glistening breasts, the lovely exposure of her belly, and her inability to fight back. He loved it when a female is powerless under him. He loved it when he gets to toy with them before fucking them senseless and devouring their souls.Though immortal, Ysabelle wasn’t different. She was even special in his eyes, knowing sooner or later she’d die in his hands if he takes her immortality away. He planned to make the most of her before that happens, but he didn’t expect that his plans would soon go awry, and by soon it meant at present, where he was in the middle of creating an unwelcomed orgasmic sensation for the woman.‘Fuck. What’s this? What is this holy feeling?’ His mind blur
When their bodies touched the mattress, Ysabelle felt the alarm going to her head. By no means was she going to yield to this man who acted exactly unlike a human, let alone the Marcus that she knew. How else would they be gently floating down if this person above her wasn’t a supernatural?In her endless lifetime, she had seen countless of things under the guardianship of the brotherhood. Things that no mere human knows, not even the Vatican court of overseers, not even the Holy See, not even the presidents of the divided countries. She knew that other than humans, there were a number of entities playing on the background. Ghosts, angels, demons, spirits of the unknown, even what humans call now as unidentified flying objects. All of them are real and the Priory of Sion, though religious in nature, kept different kinds of relics and artifacts from these heavenly and not-so heavenly beings in the wake of their visits. They keep it safe and vowed secrecy of
Dawn came the next day. Ysabelle woke up with a tired feeling. She cleared her eyes, rubbing it gently, and then sat up. She was in a moment of disorientation then.Where are the candle lamps? The transparent drapes? Where are the rose petals on the floor?Scanning the room thoroughly, she finally realized she was now back in her bedroom... in reality.Somehow, the truth pricked her heart. If given a chance, she would have never wanted to wake up again. She would have wanted to stay in that dream world, where the warmth is... where Marcus is...But, a dream is always a dream, and every dream has an ending -- waking up now in her bedroom is her own end.It left a hole in her heart.‘What a night, ’ she said to herself, and then released a long, deep sigh, curling herself and putting her forehead against her knees. ‘What a dream.’