Authors: Dennis Wheatley
At last she reached the steps in front of the altar. Abaddon was standing behind it, robed as before in heavy black satin. He beckoned her up the steps, then signed to her to kneel down on the top one. When she did so her head came just above the level of the altar top, and as she looked up at him he said in his melodious voice:
‘Penitent, the opportunity is offered you to redeem your past. Do you desire to take it?’
‘Yes,’ she murmured.
‘Are you prepared to serve Our Lord Satan with your whole mind, body and soul, permitting nothing to deter you from the furtherance of his work?’
‘Yes,’ she repeated.
‘Do you freely undertake to accept without question all orders that may be given to you by those He has placed, or may place, in authority over you?’
‘Yes,’ she murmured again.
From somewhere behind him he produced a cross about eighteen inches long and made from two thin strips of black wood held together by a single nail. Leaning forward he put it into her hands, and said:
‘As proof that you have purged your mind of all false teaching you will now break this and throw the pieces from you, while declaring, “I deny Jesus Christ, the deceiver; and abjure the Christian Faith, holding in contempt all its works”.’
A lump formed in Mary’s throat. The thought of performing the awful act required of her filled her with terror. If she uttered such an appalling blasphemy surely the wrath of Heaven would fall upon her? All the beliefs she had held when younger surged up into her mind. She had accepted without a shadow of doubt the accounts given her by the nuns at her convent of people who mocked God having been struck dead on the spot. Even if such things did not happen, there could be no escaping the Day of Judgment. The faithful and the backsliders alike would then have to account for their every act. Although she no longer practised her religion she had never ceased to believe that. How could she possibly make herself answerable for having committed such a terrible sin? The thought of it, and the price she must some day pay, would haunt her night and day for the rest of her life.
Yet, what if she refused? She had wantonly placed herself in the hands of these evil people. She was completely at
their mercy. They would regard her standing firm in her true beliefs as a defiance of the dark power that they worshipped. To them, it would be like someone in a Christian church standing before the altar and proclaiming his allegiance to the Devil. Their rage at such an insult might cause them to rise up and fall upon her in a frenzy. They might even murder her.
They
would
, from fear that, having refused to serve Satan, if they let her go she would betray their vile secrets. Only by killing her could they be certain of saving themselves, or at least having to abandon this well-concealed meeting-place with all its costly furnishings. They would have nothing to fear from her disappearance; for she was living alone under an assumed name. Her landlady would report in a few days’ time to the police that she had gone off leaving her things behind, but that would lead only to her being listed with hundreds of other missing persons. She had cut herself off even from Barney, the one and only person who might have tried to trace her.
Short of a miracle, escape was impossible and, having so long since fallen from a state of grace, how could she hope for one? Either she must pronounce the ultimate blasphemy or die there.
Desperately she sought for some middle course: some plea or trick by which she might postpone the issue. Her mind whirled with visions: of the Saviour, whom she was ordered to deny, upon the Cross; of a picture of Hell she had been shown as a child, in which naked men and women were being thrust by demons with pitchforks into the roaring flames; of a little coloured plaster statue of the Virgin before which she had knelt for many hundred nights when saying her prayers; of the insolently splendid figure of the Great Ram, and his terrifying black imp, as they had stood only a few feet from the spot where she was crouching, no more than a week ago.
These swiftly changing images robbed her of all coherent thought. From the moment Abaddon had spoken the abjuration her mind had been racing with such speed that each
fearful idea chased out its predecessor in a flash; but even so the seconds had been ticking by, and she heard the High Priest say in a low voice:
‘Come; do as I have directed. Otherwise the Brotherhood will become impatient’
At that instant yet another mental picture flashed into Mary’s brain. It was the pale serene face of the Mother Superior at the Convent she had attended. The old lady’s lips and her gentle tones sounded again in Mary’s ears, ‘Remember, child, the understanding and the mercy of our Lord Jesus is infinite.’
It was the key. He knew that she had come here not for her own gain or advantage, with greed, lust, or a craving to be given power over others, but only in the hope of bringing her husband’s murderers to book; and that if it proved possible, she would take steps to wreck this evil community that vilified His name. Nothing she said, in this gateway to Hell, no oath she took to Satan, could be binding provided that in her heart she remained true to the Redeemer.
A new strength suddenly flowed into her. She snapped the wooden cross in half and flung the pieces from her. Then in a hoarse voice she uttered the terrible words.
Abaddon smiled down upon her, and said: ‘Stand up and raise your left hand.’
With a clank of the chain that attached her wrist-cuff to her leg-irons, she did so. Leaning forward again he put into her raised hand a life-sized phallus made of solid gold. It was so heavy that she nearly dropped it, but managed to clutch it to her chest.
‘Hold it above your head,’ he ordered, ‘and repeat after me, sentence by sentence, the words I am about to say. “By the symbol of the Creator… I swear henceforth to be … a faithful servant of His most puissant Arch-Angel … the Prince Lucifer … whom before departing to perform further wonders … He designated as His Regent and Lord of this World … As a being now possessed of a human body in this world … I swear to give my full allegiance to its lawful Master … To worship Him, Our Lord Satan,
and no other … To despise all man-made religions … and to bring contempt upon them whenever that may be done without courting danger … To undermine the faith of others … in such false religions, wherever possible … and bring them to the true faith … if after consultation with my superiors they decide that to be desirable … I swear to obey without question … every order I may receive from my superiors … or those who may be placed in authority over me … I swear to give my mind, body and soul unreservedly … to the furtherance of the designs of Our Lord Satan … Finally I swear that as a neophyte … and later should I be privileged to be initiated into the Brotherhood of the Ram … I will in no circumstances disclose its secrets … the places of meeting of its Lodges … anything to which I have been a witness while attending their meetings … or the identity of any person that I have met at one or more of them. Should I break this my oath … may it be decreed that for a hundred incarnations … beginning with my next… I shall never rise from poverty … shall be rejected by all upon whom I may set my affections … and die from some agonising disease.” ’
At first, as Mary repeated his words phrase by phrase, her voice was a little weak and hesitant, but after a few moments she realised that, having passed the Rubicon by denying Christ, nothing she might say mattered now; so she took the remainder of the oath in firm, clear tones.
When the worst, as she thought, was over, Abaddon said to her: ‘Now lie down at full length upon the altar.’
Awkwardly, on account of her lead-weighted feet, she clambered on to it and stretched herself out.
In a loud voice Abaddon cried: ‘Brothers and Sisters of the Ram. The penitent has proved worthy of acceptance as a neophyte into our High Order. It is now my happy duty to free her from the bonds of ignorance and superstition.’
With swift, well-practised movements, he knocked off Mary’s fetters and unbuckled the heavy shoes, casting them quickly aside. He then gave a gentle pull at her bun and ran his hands through her hair, so that the pins fell out and her
dark locks again tumbled about her shoulders. Lastly, with a sharp knife he slit up the sacking shirt and cut the string that held the sacking skirt in place. Ripping the tatters of the ugly garments away he exposed her on the altar naked except for the mask over her face.
‘Stand up,’ he said, ‘and face the congregation so that they may look upon you.’
Mary did as she was bid. It was futile to pretend false shame. She had been prepared at least for this, and she was justly proud of her beautiful body. A murmur of interest and admiration went up from the masked men and women lounging on the divans.
Upon the two nearest, on either side of the aisle, the Countess and Tung-fang Shuo were sitting. The one had folded on her knees a transparent muslin mantle; the other was holding a pair of silver sandals. Both rose, came forward and put upon Mary this livery of the Brotherhood.
As they stepped back, the rest of the congregation suddenly came to its feet and surged forward. Fearful afresh of what might be about to happen to her, Mary stared at the advancing mob with distended eyes and backed swiftly against the altar. But Abaddon had come round it, and said to her:
‘You have nothing to fear. It is our custom that the Brotherhood should give ritual welcome to every neophyte, because she is already half-way to becoming a Sister. As High Priest it is my privilege to the first to do so.’ He then put his hands on her shoulders, stooped his head, and kissed her on the lips.
He smelt faintly of lavender water and cigars, so she did not mind in the least. Neither did she when the Countess took his place and gave her a swift peck, or when Tung-fang Shuo, in turn, drew her close and gave her a long, sweetly perfumed kiss on the mouth; but as the Chinese girl released her she was stricken with fearful apprehension. The whole congregation was now thronging round, men and women, old and young; yet there was nothing she could do to evade them.
One after another they greeted her according to their temperaments. Some performed the ritual only as necessary act, placing their hands lightly on her shoulders or waist, and barely touching her lips with theirs. But others took full advantage of the opportunity offered to them.
The very tall, fair-haired man, whom she had noticed the week before from the gallery, actually lifted her from her feet and held her to him for nearly half a minute, while kissing her until she was breathless. But after him came the huge Negress, grinning from ear to ear, to envelop her in a mountain of flesh, so that she had to exercise great control to prevent herself from fighting off the repulsive creature.
Ratnadatta waited until last. As had been the case with several of the others, he took his time about it, and she felt that in accepting his embrace she reached the summit of her ordeal. Her flesh seemed to creep as he put his arms about her, and as his lips opened to kiss her she received the full strength of his sweetish, bad-lobster-smelling breath.
At last it was over. Stepping back, Ratnadatta took her hand and turned her towards the altar behind which Abaddon had again taken up his position. They bowed to him; he returned their bow, then the Indian led her back down the aisle and out through the big double doors of the temple.
Silent, and still trembling, she accompanied him up the stairs. He opened the door of the room in which she had changed and said:
‘Put on your own clothes, plees. When you haf dressed come down to the hall. I shall be there waiting for you.’
As she dressed she could not make up her mind if she was glad or sorry that she had not been allowed to stay for longer down in the temple. While suffering her ordeal she had hoped that as the price of it she would be given a chance to mingle with the members of the Brotherhood, enter into conversation with some of them and, perhaps, pick up some pointer bearing on the reason for her having come here. On the other hand, had they let her remain there to take part in their feast and dance, some of the kisses she had
received suggested that, although she was as yet only a neophyte, far worse might have befallen her. On balance she decided that, if she could now get away without further unwelcome attentions from Ratnadatta, she would be well out of it.
Down in the hall she found him fully dressed. Without a word he took her out into the cul-de-sac and, with a step so quick that it betrayed impatience, walked her for a quarter of a mile until they reached a waiting taxi. As soon as they were seated in it, he bandaged her eyes, then he said:
‘Tonight you haf taken a great step. You behave good; very good. I haf no complaints for you. Not till initiation do you receive baptism and perform service to temple. Also then you will sign pact in your own blood, and will be granted in exchange first stage off power to influence others. But before this you must perform some act decreed as test off your willingness to serve Our Lord Satan intelligently and well.’
He wheezed a little, then went on. ‘You must continue attendance at the Tuesdays off Mrs. Wardeel. She ees a stupid woman, but serves good purpose in gathering at her house peoples interested in the occult. Most are harmless fools; but sometimes there comes one like yourself, worthy off advancement and suitable for employment in the great work off Our Lord Satan. I attend always for purpose off recognising such. It will be there, next week, the week after, I do not know; but when Abaddon tells me to, that I shall inform you off the task allotted to you.’
At Hyde Park Corner he set her down. It seemed to her that a whole night must have passed since she had met him at Sloane Square Tube Station; but to her amazement it was still before eleven. Although she could have sworn that she had been in the Temple for hours, the actual ceremony had lasted only twenty minutes.
On her way home in a bus she still felt dazed and terribly exhausted. Her mind was filled with medley of recollections of sights, sounds and feelings that she had experienced that evening: the body of the skinny Countess, the huge
glittering diamond on the finger of Tung-fang Shuo, Abaddon seated in a lounge suit at his desk, her terror on being ordered to deny Jesus Christ, the weight of those terrible lead-soled shoes, the face of the Mother Superior, the embrace of the very tall fair-haired man, her panic as the congregation crowded round her.