abandon the unease and terror the memories had brought. Now, the voice spoke of its own accord, echoing through her head, nudging her toward mistrusted violence. The voice had started with simple words and short statements, but now it had become a complete and independent inner monologue ranting in her head. It told her things she knew were not true, but somehow seemed reasonable. These doubts were the fulcrum it used to unseat her sanity and send it tumbling. Its hideous whisperings, its threats against her had worn her into a deeper misery than the others.
Ethan came to an abrupt stop. Another hall had presented itself as an option to their progress. It was dark, dank, and smelled of rotting mold. “I think we should just keep following this one. It does not feel quite so wrong.”
“It also keeps leading down,” Abby added in agreement.
Ethan continued on his way, following the dryer wood-floored passage downward to his white whale of an escape. Abby followed wordlessly, the ever-droning follower of any that cared to lead her. Madison did not follow, but watched them walk into the distance, mindful to keep her light shining downward to keep from drawing their attention.
The voice had called to her and told her to stop there, told her that death and ruin would be hers should she continue with them. It was the first warning or threat she had heeded, and she was not exactly sure why, but at this moment, her reasoning was a small, child-like voice in a torrential storm of her madness. She turned down the other passage as the voice instructed and continued alone without the condemned to bring her to their deaths.
The dampness, the hideous looking tendrils hanging from the moss growth above, and the wet wood below her feet suddenly seemed more appropriate, as though it should be, and her discomfort began to swirl in the storm ravaging her mind. Her surroundings began to feel more right, more proper and wholesome, and she began to find comfort in it.
She found herself facing a large door of wood and iron but not of the same dilapidated age of the others she had passed through. The voice urged her to open it, to be welcomed in the domain of Father Burns. Somewhere deep within herself, she felt vaguely that this was wrong, that she could trust her friends, especially Abby, but her hand grasped the lever like door knob, and she eased it open.
The light from within took her sight for a moment before she could see the enormous number of candles burning in the chandeliers overhead. The room appeared finely decorated with Old World furniture, paintings, and even a large oval rug that covered almost the entire brick flooring. It was dry and warm, a large fireplace made sure of this, and in the very center stood the most beautiful man, young and vibrant in priestly garb. His hair was short and his eyes a soft, welcoming blue. His hands he held in front of him in a very unthreatening way, one clasping a Bible, and he smiled a dazzlingly warm smile.
“Welcome, my child. Come and be warmed.” He indicated the fireplace with a sweep of his hand. “Are you hungry? I have some fruit and some very nice wine if you like.”
The raging storm in Madison’s mind calmed suddenly, opened an eye like a tornado, and presented her this scene in utter clarity. The past few hours remained torn and fragmented in the gale, and she chose not to even reach for them. She had found her solace, her escape, and her heart sang in the triumph. “Please. Who are you?”
“I am Father Burns; I oversee the chapel here underneath the Heart House.”
“Am I still in the House?” Madison asked as she approached the fire.
“In a manner of speaking, yes you are. Why, don’t you like the House?”
Images of the dining hall, the grand sweeping stairway, the memory of yet-to-be-hosted parties fell from the swirling storm. “Yes…it’s marvelous!”
The fire began to penetrate her clothing, to warm the chilled flesh beneath it.
“That’s wonderful, child. Have you given any thought to staying here?”
His voice was sweet and encouraging, entrancing to Madison, and she found herself entertaining the idea of having sex with a priest.
“Actually, Father, I had thought of it. I have a promising career in modeling and had daydreamed of buying this house.”
“It is a grand home indeed. The Hearts loved it, had their children here, and flourished, they did.”
“Are they no longer here?” Madison was not sure why she suddenly asked this, but was certain of the answer.
“Yes, in a way, they are still about, but they do not claim ownership of the House, not in the way you are thinking. They would like such a lovely girl as you to own it.” He handed her a small tray with some sliced peaches and a medieval-style goblet filled with red wine.
“Thank you, Father,” she said and sipped at the wine. It was fruity but dry and wonderfully aged. “Can you tell me, Father, what happened here? Why are there so many dead?”
“Oh, that, child, is nothing to be worried about. This has been, and for many years, a place for the cleansing of witches.”
“But why have they died?”
“We do not execute witches, dear child. We make an effort to exercise the evil in them, and return them to society. Some, alas, chose not to allow the cure. This does not keep us from trying.” His voice was thick with sweetness.
It sounded perfectly reasonable to Madison, who found a chair to fill near the dancing flames. He was doing good works here, trying to rid the world of evil, and these catacombs certainly teamed with it. She could hear a tiny voice inside her, screaming from a great distance, demanding that she flee.
Father Burns took the seat across from her and crossed his legs with complete elegance. “You seem troubled by this, child.”
“It’s not that, Father. I am surprised you would be here and do such work alone. Isn’t it dangerous?”
“Oh, child, I am not alone. I have many helping me; they serve me and my cause with great devotion.”
Madison tried desperately to remember why she was here, but the wine seemed to be going straight to her head, clouding the memories of her most recent past. She fought for control of her thoughts. “How does someone serve your cause?”
“Well, in many ways, actually. Are you entertaining the notion of helping me?” His voice was gentle and not expectant. It was as though he had all the time in the world, and did not wish to rush her from the fire.
To Madison, this seemed like an inviting idea. She could gaze into those warm blue eyes forever, and to help such a just cause was a noble thing. Still, she hesitated. “It sounds like a good idea…”
“But you are young and full of the lust for flesh and are not ready to give that up,” he stated with authority.
It was as though he had not just plucked the idea from her head but placed it there, even though she knew it to be wholly her own. “Yes,” she said as she lowered her face in shame.
“Well, we can serve that here as well, and in such ways you have not even begun to imagine.”
She looked up again, and locked onto his eyes. Her face ran warm with red, and her mouth wet with the thought of having him. “Father?”
“No, child, not with me, but with others more apt to serve such a need.”
“Others?” she asked gently.
“Yes…” he trailed off in almost a hiss, but still with the same gentle warmness in his voice.
At this, men began to enter the room from a recess she had not seen—large African men, well muscled and beautiful, their faces all of them different but chiseled from the same marble. Their physiques were magnificent, and their eyes held a longing for her she was not used to, but reveled in. They stood in a line, shoulder to shoulder, looking at her with a barely-bridled passion, all completely nude. Madison found herself longing to have them right there, right now and in front of a priest.
“See? I am not ignorant of need. If you join me in my cause, these men will be yours to have as you like, whenever you like.”
Madison found her breath short, and it was almost painful to look away from the magnificent dark skin before her. “For how long would I serve?” She could think of nothing else to ask, her mind made up but almost not by her.
“Only until you wish to leave. None are bound to service. They may choose to go whenever they like,” he said simply around his warm and trusting smile.
