Pale **** Chapter One Hundred Six

Again, I had a simple plan.

Kerri had spoken a language derived from a Jewish dialect, the words rolled from her lips but were not to be mistaken for an incantation. Demons don't cast spells.

After entering into the home I'd seen she had company, as Martin had, briefly he sat at the Steinway playing a foreign tune, classically macabre. He was height and weight proportionate at about 7 ft and 400 pounds.

"I've come to get the things I left behind since I left so unexpectedly."

I'd taken a book, I would retrieve it from the Babylonian themed room and return it to the Library, look behind the bookcase and go to Mississippi---I'd spoken to Lawrence, he'd given his condolences, again he asked if Trenton had made me happy.

My sons were now in state custody.

I buried the hurt and feeling of betrayal, at least they were safe.

I was so tired and knew I could drive no longer, I would valet the Kia and leave the next morning after resting at a hotel. Preferably Windsor Court.

The sound of the waters rushed through my ears, but I could hear the operatic tone of the keys as they rose and fell loud and clear---he'd fluently played a tragedy.

If I hadn't known any better I'd say the song was making me sleepier. Kerri watched me disappear down the hall.

Uncertainty volleyed back and forth in my mind and I'd known Martin was away but for some reason I'd been disappointed to see him gone, Diablo continued the tune in D minor. He was named for the demon of terror. I remembered the nigga Redd had been cuffed to—-Terror.

I retreated toward the room, the seashell clutch I'd carried to dinner sat in the womb chair, along with the cracked phone I left behind.

I contemplated taking off my shoes, I was so tired and felt like a cloud had covered me suddenly. I looked around for the book and saw it was not still in the room, after a careful search I determined it may have been already returned to the shelf. Ambitiously I mentally dug for an excuse to go into the large room filled with books. Fuck Kerri, I thought—I wasn't intimidated.

I pictured the gold angels mounted on the wall with the trumpets to their lips, I'd known it was mockery to announce his imminence. I decided to remove the New Balance tennis shoes.

I wondered about Kie and her son as I had not felt their presences. The song continued. I placed the shoes against the wall and exited the room. Without permission I walked past the lion statuettes into the Library and stood underneath the Sophia candle style chandelier, the crystals reflected against the Nicolas Lancret painting, The Seat of Justice in the Parliament of Paris in 1723, the original. Remarkably detailed depicting each member, each House by color; red set aside for monarchy.

The book had not been on the shelf in it's place.

While searching along the spines of the large collection of miscellaneous books and various novels I spotted the book that I'd seen years ago, I could not forget the tattered spine, its threads ravelled along the edges the fancy lettering almost disguised but yet still in tact. The Devil's Decimal.

How had I not noticed the book before? I was sure it had not rested on the shelf. I had no desire for its contents but was curious to know what I hadn't back then. I'd somehow become mentally alert and could recollect isolated events, I touched the spine as I had the Law Books and as if the room become smaller I became claustrophobic, directly. I could only hear the suspenseful sounds of villainous piano chords over the sound of the rushing water, like I was being mocked for going inside the room. I mentally reviewed what had just taken place. I needed to see the book and determined it was all in my mind. Kerri's scent overwhelmed the room, she reeked of iniquity as she always had.

Where was my nephew? I asked as I turned around to read her lips, I felt he was in danger---somewhere. "Safe," she responded before saying something pertaining to the room being off limits. I ignored her for some reason becoming entirely too sleepy to drive, I could have laid down right there. Retrospectively I would have felt safe around her but in this instance she felt like the enemy. I needed that book, I said pointing toward it "Daddy had a copy of it."

"Daddy says there is no copy," she responded.

The cardigan evening dress she'd worn had to have cost a pretty penny, she was living her best life and I would by no means rain on her parade, however I felt she was a pawn. Like Mama said, "Martin has never done anything for Kerri." Why would he now?

Where she'd always been shameful, she now seemed bold, the shyness she'd once carried which I had considered to be a burden had dissipated, something had made her courageous. She'd spake another language, Daddy had once said when one spoke in tongues, they weren't aware of its translation or the occurrence---I begged to differ, she was aware.

He'd began to study Xenoglossy, I remember seeing the word in the book, not knowing its pronounciation or what it meant, I somehow now knew it was an experience where a person is capable of speaking a language they'd never heard---or read. We both had the capabilities, she could speak; I could read.

We had not inherited the traits from him, it was impossible for Kerri, he wasn't the common denominator.

My sister posed no threat, and as I had been she had also been medicatated in an attempt for her to overcome the condition---the effects the medication had on her were mild.

Daddy had studied the book, and my knowledge of it upon contact became profound, I could see---he had become infatuated with it. He believed the translations would change before his eyes and tell him to "condemn the sinners."

The symbols Terrell had taught Redd, I'd learned them as a child, at once I remembered how I knew.

I recalled a sermon, Daddy would preach about Matthias, he too had rebelled against God, his fixation on the demon was more so post-damnation, he'd spake about Murmur more than he had Matthias. He'd replaced Judas after he'd hanged himself, and became the 12th disciple. Murmur was the name given him after he'd been damned.

I'd known Murmur was Latin---so was the Law.

He was said to have taught Philosophy, and could answer any question desired. The two trumpets would sound to announce his forthcoming.

I tilted my head and gazed at the two angels holding the trumpets to their lips on the wall.

The water continued to flow vigorously through my ears---Kerri watched me as if she'd known my intentions. Did she know what was behind the bookcase?

Suddenly the piano quieted, the atmosphere became still. Kerri spoke, this time I sensed anger.

I walked to the book, but pulled it from the shelf unlike before, "I will return this," I said softly as she defended her father's property. I needed to know.

I was becoming weak as I walked past her, and into the brightly lit hallway, I just needed a nap, only for a few minutes. I was certain Martin wouldn't mind, he'd previously accepted me into his home.

Where was he?

The book was as I had remembered, it appeared to be the same one Daddy had under the seat. I opened the hardback cover to find the exact same inscription on the yellowed first page, Luke 15:11.

He'd written it himself, in blood.

It was handwritten in English as the rest of the book was not---but in symbols and Latin. I prepared to read the first line on the first page as the water became louder, I could not focus on the text. The book was not as I remembered it to be! I remembered the symbols, I'd found significant similarities in the text and figured it out---now it read something totally different, "The Pale Horse" was it's translation.

Why hadn't I saw it before now, I'd carefully looked at the neatly shelved books, surely it would have stood out, like this time!

Trenton had been so philosophical, he knew everything. I could not believe what I'd seen---the brand had not been a Fraternity brand, but something more sinister---he and Lawrence both shared the symbol---

I remembered the voices.

Murmur. To whisper, Murmur was Latin for noise.

He needed the souls of the deceased to appear before the conjurer.

Perhaps I was a skeptic but somehow it had a ring of truth, my apprehension was more prominent than it had been as a child. Why had we been given the abilities?

I sat on the bed in the Babylonian room in deep thought, there were four horsemen.

Why had I really killed Terrell? What had I seen in Redd's phone? I remembered Trenton's words. Where was Terrell buried? Where were his autopsy pictures? I needed to see---

There were four.

I'd seen horseman, and there were four.

What the fuck was going on, my son was in turmoil inside. Everything had a new meaning now, my memory had been suppressed, but why?

My mother had all the answers, I would demand she tell me what was going on, my children were involved!

What did Daddy know? Someone had given them power, but who? Why did Martin set Cliff up, his own brother?

Lawrence and Trenton had the symbols, there had to be two more! I knew the scriptures! Daddy had made me learn them!

I was getting sleepier, just a short nap---my child was disturbed, but I needed to close my eyes, briefly.

I laid down.

I'd awakened and hadn't known how long I'd been asleep. The book was opened to The Demonic Alphabet, the English alphabet was above to translate the encoded symbol underneath, but only the title of the chapter. Was that how I had learned the context? Surely it had been, but I'd never made it that far in the book---only to the third or fourth page, I was always afraid of being caught. The book was prohibited, yet he kept it under the seat; hadn't he?

I looked up from the page and pondered over the stillness in the home. I decided to go back into the library. I remembered the separation between the shelves and knew there had to be a button or key pad that lead to the large safe behind the bookcase---there had to have been one, what else could be there? Something incriminating perhaps?

Barefoot I walked on my swollen feet toward the library, the chandelier yet cast its reflection, but oddly it shone against the opposite wall, how fucking so---as if the sun had moved to change the reflection—-inside. Unbothered by the coincidence but mentally notating it, I thought, maybe I was still tripping, I felt through the gap between the shelves; I soon found a button against the wall.

My adrenaline began to rush---what was back there?

Where was Kerri, and Diablo? Why could I still hear the tune?

I took a deep breath, the waters became louder and my eye ached as if I stared into the sun, its condition would worsen each time I slept.

I strained to reach the button between the narrow space, but my arms were not long enough to press it, I could only brush my fingers against it. I began to look around, noticing the sword beside the door. I walked to it across the marble floor and picked it up. I would push the button and lean the sword back against the wall.

Nervously, this time, I walked back toward the large collection of books, wrapped my dress tail around the sharp blade and felt for the button with the handle. As I had, I heard footsteps but the bookcases moved and separated as the floor spun around before changing formation and turning their backs outward, all together concealing the books on the shelves. The library was no more, instead I was looking at a wall in a room with thousands of symbols, I'd dropped the sword and hoped I hadn't needed anything to get back out, the bookcases had sealed and it had become dark, except for the symbols, they glowed all around the room. Frightened, I fumbled for my phone to turn on the flashlight, claustrophobia was setting in I knew I needed to figure out how to get the fuck out.

I shined the light upward, and saw the depiction of the serpent on the ceiling, there were so many symbols on the wall---I could read each one, the translation petrified me. The fifth Son.

He would lack pigmentation of hair eyes and skin?

Few are chosen.

I began to panic, I screamed! There was a painting of John the Baptist, depicting his head on a platter. I needed to get out!

SO MANY SYMBOLS! Everything was written in the Devil's Alphabet as the book had been, the serpent on the ceiling with the apple in it's mouth was brilliantly designed, its flawless detail had to have been priceless, how did Troy know about behind the bookcase?

I had fucked up.

I was terrified, the context.

My screams seemed effortless, I'd tried to call Troy I had no signal!

The symbols---the context of the book was written on the wall.

Seven angels were named, satanic mockery---all of who had been cast down into earth with him. Murmur was among the mentioned.

Someone had copied the wall, or someone had copied the book. As if I'd written it myself, I translated every symbol, every word---I was product of a horrible curse.

The albino who sat at the table was The Pale Horse.