The Devil's Game

Chapter 12

Margate, England

A drenching rain beat down on the taxi's windshield. Charlie's body was slumped in the back of the car. He was barely able to keep his eyes open.

"That's one hundred and eighty-seven quid," the taxi driver said in a distinct cockney accent.

"That's a bit high, don't you think?" Hokfield said in a sharp tone.

"Sir, we drove more than one hundred miles."

"Thief," Hokfield snapped, throwing the money at him and getting out of the taxi.

Looking down the dimly lit, countryside street, Charlie was unsure if he was awake or dreaming. He could see several cars parked outside a small cottage. Hokfield pressed Charlie's hand tightly.

He sensed that this moment meant something to Hokfield. He was unusually quiet and concentrated and did not share one word with Charlie during the entire eight-hour flight, nor the two-hour drive.

"Where are we?" Charlie asked, entering the cottage.

"Shell Grotto," Hokfield replied.

They walked down a narrow stairway leading into a chalk passage. The walls were illuminated with gas lamps.

Charlie rubbed his eyes. The walls of the room he stood in were completely covered in seashells. Every wall was covered with them, forming mosaic panels of crocodiles, owls, and turtles, to name a few. They moved through the room down another corridor toward a distinct sound of chatter. They entered another room. Candles illuminated the interior. The room was filled by several people wearing matching black capes and hoods.

Charlie took a step back.

He saw a skeleton made of multiple shells on the wall.

"Don't be afraid. He brought us together for a reason," Hokfield said with a crisp nod, laying his hand on Charlie's shoulder.

"He?" Charlie said and bit his lip slightly.

"The great teacher, Satan."

"Satan?" Charlie's shoulders tightened.

"I know what you are thinking, but all that you know is wrong. Remember our conversation? I explained to you that Satan isn't evil. It's man who's evil," Hokfield said and moved in closer to add, "Don't be afraid."

"Yes, I remember," Charlie said, looking at the circle of people in front of him.

"It's time that you're officially to become Baal," Hokfield said and continued, "This will be your true christening."

Charlie trusted him and felt that this ritual would strengthen their bond.

They joined the circle of people. In the middle of the circle lay one very small bowl and one slightly larger bowl, a writing quill, and an antique-looking golden dagger. The others opened their hands toward the middle of the circle, inviting Charlie to step inside. The people circling him starting chanting simultaneously, "Baal, you Guardian Demon of Charlie, join us to welcome our brother into our midst and become one of us. Become one of the Lord's soldiers."

Hokfield handed Charlie a sheet of papyrus.

"Read it out loud to enter The Thirty-Six Legions of Demons."

Charlie bit the inside of his cheek as he looked at the paper. With a high pitched voice, he started to read out loud, "Before the almighty and ineffable God Satan Lucifer and in the presence of all Demons of Hell, who are the True and the Original Gods, I, Charlie, renounce any and all past allegiances. I renounce the false Judeo/Christian God Yahweh, I renounce his vile and worthless son, Jesus..." Charlie stopped and scratched his eyebrow. He looked at Hokfield.