Conversations with the Light Bearer (Religious Satire)

CHAPTER XVIII - Friends

CHAPTER XVIII

FRIENDS

I woke up to the sound of searing water, whistling away inside a kettle. A wooden cross hung sentinel on the wall across the bed, the room reeking of sick people and sanitizing alcohol.

"Sorry, Dad. Your girl's mine now," Mammon had said before I lost all consciousness that night. The memory blazed as clear as day, the night circling in my head over and over again. "She's mine! All mine!"

I hate hospitals. I always did. The high pitch persisted as the door creaked and swung open. "Henry! Your water's boiling," the visitor said in his raspy voice. I couldn't see the man clearly, for my vision was still in quite a haze, but what I could make out was a large man with a corresponding large stomach.

"Yes, yes," the priest said. "Been a long time, my friend."

"Sure," the man said, placing the fruit basket on the table. "You look good, Henry."

Father Lim shook his hand. "So how's business? Heard your club's doing well."

The outline of the visitor began rubbing his round tummy. As I made out a gold bow tie, it suddenly came back to me. It was Old Sam, my friend, the Grigori. "Oh it is, my friend. You should definitely come visit sometime. Just don't wear the collar. Most of the regulars don't like drinking with the clergy, if you know what I mean."

I tried to speak but I was still too weak, and the racket only increased as the door burst open once more.

"Oh, Rom-Rom, you're such a gentlemen!" said a teenage girl in a gothic ensemble, wrapping her arms around him. Her companion was a very tall lad. I recognized him as Romulus, one of Samyaza's brood.

"Oh, besty," Romulus pinched her on the cheek. "Sorry but you're just not my type."

"Ehem!" Old Sam cleared his throat. "Romy, m'boy. Can you go down and buy us some dinner? And some whiskey, perhaps. That is if Father Henry can still handle a bottle."

"I'm not as old as you, you old goat." Henry jested.

They laughed together and Henry went down with the Nephilm.

Still recovering from my injuries, I simply closed my eyes, feeling safe in the company of dear friends, a feeling I have not felt in a very long time. Then, as the girl sat down on the chair beside me, Old Sam proceeded to make use of his charms, whatever was left of it anyway. "So. . . How are you related to dear old Lucifer?"

"Vincent," she said. "He doesn't want people calling him that."

The fallen angel coughed. "Oh, forgive me, my dear. I didn't know you were that close."

"It's okay. I don't think he thinks too much of me," she said, "especially when that other girl arrived. I mean, he said he was gonna kill her, y'know? Like really kill her. But. . . But somehow. . . I knew he wasn't going to. Master is really a nice person, Sir. People are so afraid of him, but really, he's just trying to help everyone."

The teenager held my left hand, caressing it. I could feel her hair dangling over my face.

Lilith. . .

In a while, Samyaza spoke. "As we have ample time to chatter, would you like to hear a good old story, my dear?"

"What story?" the succubus asked.

"The truth, my dear. Nothing but the truth."

"Well, go on then, Sir."

"Oh, just call me Sam, for goodness sake." The Grigori coughed. "No need to make me feel older than I am, eh?"