I was just going to pad softly away from my peephole when I happened to look up at the ceiling of the hallway. Over the years during which the house had slowly decayed, respectably sized holes had opened up in the ceiling through which you could see up into the next floor. Of course, it was impossible to see anything through them, since the upstairs apartment was cloaked in darkness. But I suspected that the roof of the room in which the "party" was taking place was also damaged. So I only needed to run up there to get a box seat for viewing the eerie show on the third floor. If my assumption proved correct, then I could watch the goings-on at leisure, even treat myself to popcorn without having to fear being caught by the homicidal mob below.
I snuck quickly up the stairs to get to the top floor. To my surprise and relief, I discovered that the apartment door no longer existed. The door had rotted away from its hinges and crashed to the floor, probably with the help of a strong gust of wind. That was fine as far as I was concerned, for I could now slip in without first having to wrack my brains with technical problems.
Although darkness seemed to be the sole tenant here as well, I noticed immediately that the apartment was more like the one in my nightmare than the one downstairs. Every room was tiled in white, like rooms in a mental institution. Not unexpectedly, most of the tiles were shattered and covered with filth and mold, but they nevertheless gave the rooms their distinctive atmosphere. Aside from the usual, indefinable garbage that tends to collect on uninhabited premises over the years, the entire apartment was empty. As for my expectations of finding an ideal observation post, they were more than satisfied. The dilapidated floor was riddled with holes. It looked like the pitted bomb crater landscape of a miniature world war.
As I got further inside the apartment, I began to see the flickering glow of the light from below. Then I entered the large room; it looked exactly the way I imagined it would. As softly as a spirit hovering over the living, I slunk to the middle of the room where the floor was punctured with a hole about a yard across, and looked down.
What I saw below could have made a photojournalist into a multimillionaire overnight with just one snapshot. It was an unbelievable sight. About two hundred brothers and sisters had pushed, shoved, and squeezed into the middle of a filthy room, where the frayed wire ends of two loose electric cables met and crossed, spraying sparks. An elderly brother with white, billowing fur, the one who drooled out the holy tirade I had heard earlier, pressed down one of the cables with his paw so that it sprang up and down, creating intermittent electric contact. One after the other, brothers and sisters were jumping over the wires where they touched and exploded into fiery bright sparks. This gave them powerful shocks that scorched their fur and made them scream at the top of their lungs. The shocks threw them to the floor, dazed and exhausted; nevertheless, some of the really crazy ones apparently didn't get enough and wanted to submit themselves to the torture all over again. Unfortunately, there were other mental cases standing behind them who hadn't had their laughs for the day and pushed the ones who had just gotten shocked aside to get to the front themselves.
"In the name of Brother Claudandus!" drubbed the preacher to his little lambs. "In the name of Brother Claudandus, who sacrificed himself for our sakes and who became God! Claudandus, O holy Claudandus, hear our suffering, hear our voices, hear our prayers! Accept our sacrifices!"
"Accept our sacrifices!" the congregation cried out with one voice.
"But the soul of the righteous Claudandus is in the hands of the Lord, and no suffering can touch him. In the eyes of fools, he seems dead; his end is regarded as a misfortune and his departure from us as annihilation. But he is in peace!"
"Hallelujah, Claudandus is in peace!" answered the choir passionately.
They were now in perfect ecstasy. A spastic quaking and quivering seized their bodies, and they seemed to be slipping into a trancelike state. Whimpering and trembling, the mob pushed its way forward and vaulted the glowing wires more and more quickly, ever closer to the sparks. Now the electric shocks did not even seem to matter to those who brushed the wires. On the contrary, the concentrated charge made them even more foolhardy, even crazier. The leader of the sect pressed his paw on the cable with increasing frequency, and the electrical flashes hissing from the contact created an uncanny light.
"Even if he is suffering in the opinion of all the evil people out there, his vision is immortal. He was the recipient of great acts of charity after only a brief training period because the Lord tested him and found him to be worthy. Like gold in a melting furnace, he submitted to a trial and the Lord accepted him as the perfect, burnt offering. At that time he was illumined by grace and passed like a spark to his new home in heaven. He shall judge the people and rule over the nations; the Lord shall be his king forever! Those who have confidence in him shall then discover the truth, and those who have remained faithful shall dwell with him in love; for grace and mercy shall be bestowed upon the elect!"
Confirming what was said,
