The Devil's Heart

stone where The Book rested. Their names were carefully recorded in that evil book, the hair placed beside the name.

Just as we have done for hundreds of years, Roma silently mused. As I personally have done for more than four hundred of those years, and those before me for thousands, all the way back to the caves … and beyond, before the first flood.

Roma cut her eyes to Howard's nakedness as a feeling of something very much amiss struck her. Something was all wrong. Falcon sensed it as well, walking swiftly to her side.

'What's wrong?' he asked, his voice low.

'The Master is here. And he is angry.'

'What about?'

'I don't know.'

The voice of the Ruler of the Netherworld boomed in their heads, thundering to them in a roar only they could hear. 'Is this the best you can do? One shivering male?'

Roma thrust her thoughts to the Ruler of Hell: 'We did not think you would object.'

'You did not think!' Satan roared, causing them both to cringe. 'That much is correct. Look at your idiot son, Roma. Look at him stroking his organ, practically drooling at the mouth like a Beast as he thinks about man love. Disgusting! And the son that should have been mine is crouched not a thousand meters from the circle, watching with your daughter. The daughter that should be taking part in this ceremony … worshiping me! You have failed me, Roma. Don't fail again. Wilder warned me you had a streak of decency in you; a very narrow streak, to be sure, but nevertheless … there.

'What in the name of all that is unholy have I ever done to deserve you two? This should be easy. The world is spinning about in utter chaos; wars breaking out everywhere; morals finally declining at a satisfying rate of deterioration; drugs and free sex and … oh, for pity's sake! Do I have to lecture the both of you? If so, I have failed miserably.

'Now, you hear me well, witch and warlock: the both of you will not fail this time. These are my commands: you will establish a Coven on these grounds; to insure that, I have ordered more members in, to reinforce this group. They will be here tonight. You, Roma, will give me a demon son from the seed of Balon's bastard; you, Falcon, will give me a bitch demon from the womb of Nydia. But test them before you seduce them—as God is doing—see if they are worthy of my touch. You must offer them ample opportunity to leave, and allow them to do so if that is their choice. Of course,' the Devil chuckled, 'you can also ambush them on their way out.'

The torches smoked for a few moments, the circle of stones silent in the flickering light. Then Satan roared.

'Do either of you really think I care how you accomplish any of this? I don't care how you go about it. I don't care if there is a sacrifice this night. I put the sacrifice business in the mind of that fool writer a thousand years ago … it's been repeated ever since. Why is everything I say constantly taken out of context? Can't I make a joke occasionally? After all, I was once an angel, and a goddamned good one, if I do say so myself. I'm not humorless. I gave the world Pilate, Hitler, and rock and roll music, didn't I?

'No, Roma, Falcon, you will not fail me. I want to hear the screaming of those puky holy people; I want to hear the wailing as their blood stains the ground, and I want to see a demon burst forth from your womb, and a matching bitch from the cunt of your Christian daughter.

'There are no rules—none! I have this precognition that I am going to be defeated in Whitfield. Very well. I can live with that; I can accept it. I will derive some satisfaction from it, however: the wailing and begging of Balon's Christian whore as she is ravaged and flogged and finally nailed naked onto my cross. And, no, you may rest your fears, Balon will not interfere here. He'll be much too busy back in Whitfield, with that impossible golem.

'No, that meddler from the firmament broke His word, even though He denies it, so I see no need for many rules. But you two hear me well: I want blood, pain, degradation, filth … everything we believe in … and more. Tell your fool son to mount the male if that is what he desires; he will never be anything other than a stooge to me. Failure, Roma. You failed with both your latest children. But at least, and it pains me to say this, Nydia did accept something; she is faithful to something. Which is much more than can be said of that foolish son of yours. He disgusts me. Scheming, plotting, foolish, foolish boy.

'It is doubtful I shall return here until you have completed your assignments. I must return west. That psalm singer broke His word, thinks He has me fooled; thinks I believe He has departed. Well, I don't trust Him. I know He's got something up His sleeve—I just don't know what. Be careful: Balon's goody-two- shoes son has tremendous powers, which is another reason I'm sending in help. So, good-bye. And don't fail me!'

'Something happened,' Sam whispered. 'I feel as if I was locked in some kind of time warp, where everything stood still.'

'Me, too,' Nydia said, returning the whisper. 'Look! Roma and Falcon are moving now.'

'They were speaking with Satan.'

'How do you know that?'

'Some … one just told me.'

She looked at him in the darkness, her eyes wide and scared. 'Who?'

'I don't know.'

Nydia suddenly gasped. 'My God!' She grabbed at Sam's arm. 'Look at that.'

Both of them grimaced their shock and horror as Howard was led to the dark altar by two servants and Black began his sodomy of the young man. Howard screamed his outrage and pain, fighting against hands that held him while Black laughed as he forced the ugliness.

Howard screamed again, his cries echoing around the small valley. Roma ran to the scene of rape, her black robe open, exposing her nakedness, the stones preventing Sam and Nydia from seeing what was taking place. They could but wonder what the witch was doing.