In the House of Mirrors (7 page)

PROPERTY OF THE ORDER

OF THE BLACK BOOK

I flipped through it, reading small passages as I went. There were stories about Heaven and Hell. Most of them through the perspective of Lucifer, the first fallen angel. The book was only a few hundred pages. Before I was done skimming it, the man who once asked me for
the word
, took the stage.

“
Ladies and gentlemen of the Order. We will be starting tonight's ceremony momentarily. Please be seated.” He exited the podium and left the altar, disappearing through a small door next to the stage.

That's when I realized Marty Olberstad had joined the party. If he had been dressed like the rest of the group, he might have gone unnoticed. But he was in the same gray suit he was in when he left his apartment, over an hour ago. He didn't get the same introductory treatment I had received. Instead, he was greeted with amiable smiles and handshakes. I knew why. He had been here before. I had not. I was a stranger. An intruder. They knew it. I was stupid to have come. I never felt more alone in my entire life than I had right there, watching Marty Olberstad exchange smiles with the very same girl who had writhed her face at me in the hallway. The only other person in the whole church who wasn't exchanging pleasantries with someone was the girl to my right. The girl in the black sweatshirt, who continued reading from Lucifer's Bible and said nothing.

I actually got up from my seat, fully prepared to leave this place with no intention of ever returning when I spotted someone else. It was my Aunt Danica. I didn't notice her earlier because she was fully concealed in a black robe. She was probably sitting there the whole time. I only spotted her because she faced me when she got up to greet Marty Olberstad. She pecked him on the cheek and quietly whispered, “so glad you could make it.”

5

The Black Mass began shortly after I spotted Aunt Danica. Someone had dimmed the lights, and only a faint glow came from the altar via a dozen candles. A figure appeared in the orange luminescence, a man I would be formally introduced to as Carter Boone, the ring leader of this hellish circus. He was the high priest, the maestro of this demonic orchestra. He also owned the house, and the property surrounding it.

“Welcome my children. Glory be to Lucifer, ruler of Earth, King of our world.”

“
Glory be to God,”
the group replied.

“
Let us pray,” Carter Boone commanded.

I slumped in my seat. Fear set in. My brain conjured up every image, every stereotypical scenario regarding devil worship; animal sacrifices, orgies, the slaying of virgins, and yes, even the consumption of human flesh. I didn't believe any of these things to be true, but if you asked me prior to that night what the chances were that people actually practiced Satanic rituals in the middle of the night, deep within the woods of Central New Jersey, I'd probably say none.

How dumb was I?

“
Dear, Master. Bringer of Light,” Boone's voice boomed through the speaker. “O Commander of Darkness, I command the forces of the Black Abyss to bestow their infernal power upon us. Save us, Lord Satan, from the treacherous and the violent! O, Satan! Spirit of the Earth, God of Liberty! Open wide the Gates of Hell and come forth by these names! Satan!”

“
Satan!”
the group shouted.

“
Beelzebub!” Boone thundered through the speakers.

“
Beelzebub!”
the congregation repeated. 

“
Leviathan!”

“
Leviathan!”

My heart pumped faster. I imagined a hole opening up in the middle of the altar, and the Devil himself ascending. The chanting continued.

“Asmodeus!” Boone continued.

“
Asmodeus!”

“
Abaddon!”

“
Abaddon!”
the group shouted back.

Silence swept over the mass like a plague. Not a word was whispered for at least a minute. Boone stood before the altar, his arms outstretched, as if he were a bird taking flight. After moments of standing like a statue, his eyes fluttered open. “Children of the Infernal Order, our Master is here with us. I can feel his spirit wander through our congregation, surveying the souls of those who worship him. Judging them. Deeming them worthy enough to carry out his commands. Are thee worthy enough to satisfy our Master's biding?”

“We are worthy!”
the Order of the Black Book responded.

“
Are thee worthy enough to seek the truth, and dispel the lies of the so-called All-Mighty one, the one who refers to Himself as the Creator of our World.”

“
We are worthy!”

“
Are thee worthy enough to proceed in the learnings of the Black Book, learn the ways of the Infernal One, and put to use its knowledge and awesome power, not for personal affairs, but for the affairs of our diabolical king.
Lucifer domini.”

“
We are worthy!”

I slouched further in my seat. Petrified, I didn't utter a single sound.

“My children, long will live the days when the heavens rain blood and the Creator's sky is filled with locusts. That much I promise you. With our Master on our side we will conquer the impending doom this planet waits upon. We will never suffer disease or famine, never will our Lord judge us, or condemn us, throw us to the side like unwanted toys. Never will our Lord leave us in darkness, for he is the Bringer of Light.”

I checked my watch to see how much more of this nonsense I'd have to suffer through. It had only been fifteen minutes.
It can't last longer than an hour,
I thought, hoping to sneak out unnoticed as soon as it ended.

“
Let us give thanks to Satan, our Master,” Boone continued, holding a chalice up in the air as if it were a trophy. “We will drink the blood of the two-horned demigod to celebrate our Order.” He drank from the glass, wiped his mouth with a black cloth. “Let us align,” he told the people in the pews. They rose, lining up in front of the altar like Catholics during the Eucharist.

As the line began to move, I noticed the girl in the black sweatshirt rising from her seat. Instead of jumping on the end of the line to receive the goat's blood, she removed herself from the ceremony. I watched her head toward the exit. Before disappearing through the double doors, she caught me staring. I quickly turned my attention to the floor. She was pretty, around the same age as me. Upper twenties. No way she was over thirty. After she left I looked back at the exit. I wished I could have followed her, but I knew I had to stay. At least a little while longer. I was hoping I could catch Olberstad and Aunt Danica in the parking lot, smooching perhaps. I could snap a few pictures, give them to Uncle Bernie, and be done with this detective bullshit.

My attention turned back to the black altar. Carter Boone was at it again.

“
Children of the Black Book. Our mass has concluded. Let us end in prayer,” he said. Boone raised his arms as if to say “repeat after me.” Before he spoke, a smile stretched across his wrinkly face.
“Satanas domino, lux in tenebris...”

6

I cowered in the pew, waiting for it to end, and the crowd to disperse. Some of them left the church as soon as Carter Boone left the altar. They formed a small crowd in the corridor, and to be perfectly honest, the thought of walking past them frightened me. I was an outsider. And who knew what they liked to do with outsiders.

Turn you into next week's goat's blood...
a not-so-happy voice suggested.

After the group had shuffled to the end of the of the corridor and into the small entrance room where the doorman had unpleasantly greeted me, I made way toward the exit. Marty Olberstad and Aunt Danica were walking, perhaps no more than ten feet in front of me, hand in hand. Marty leaned in and whispered something in her ear. She cocked her head back and laughed. The hood of her robe fell back, revealing my aunt's long, curly-brown hair. She twisted her head to the side and planted a big wet one on Olberstad's right cheek.

I writhed my lips in disgust. Poor Uncle Bernie.

Inside the foyer, Danica told Marty she was going to change and she would meet him at the car. He smiled and patted her bottom playfully. Then he headed toward the exit—which happened to be the same door as the entrance—where the unfriendly doorman and Carter Boone bid their visitors a pleasant evening. Boone shook Olberstad's hand and then he disappeared into the darkness outside. Boon turned to me, and his smile faded from his face.

“Newcomer,” he said, his voice booming as if it were still coming through the loudspeakers. “Welcome. First time at one of these?” he asked.

“
How'd you guess?” I asked. My face fixed a smile, but my nerves tingled with uneasy tension.

“
I too, believe it or not, once sat in the back pew, sinking deeper and deeper into my seat, asking myself what the hell I had gotten myself into,” he said. The smile returned. It did not comfort me. Not one bit. “Tell me...” he trailed off, waiting for me to give my name.

“
Ritchie Naughton,” I replied. If I weren't about ready to wet my pants, I would have had the good sense to give him an alias. But my mind was swimming in a pool of thoughts—all of them about my fate if this orchestrator of evil happened to find out that I was spying on two of his members. Every scenario ended up more or less the same; with me either being publicly crucified (Saint Peter style) or my heart being ripped out of my chest, and eaten by a band of Satan-worshiping cannibals. Ludicrous thoughts, of course. Despite the whole Satanic priest thing he had going on, Carter Boone actually seemed—pleasant.

“
Tell me, Ritchie Naughton; what made you find us? Has a particular event happened in your life, to cause you to question your faith in the one who calls Himself God? Or are you just looking for an alternate way to spend your Saturday nights?” He smiled again, a smile I did not fully trust. “Are the bars on the boardwalk not doing it for you anymore?”

His sidekick—Mr. Happypants, who answered doors—was now grinning, exposing his pearly whites, the few he had left. He was missing three teeth (that I could see), two on the top, one on the bottom. Boone's wise crack—which I didn't find particularly funny—made him giggle, which came out more like a rhythmic hum. I paid little attention to him.

“I'm not a big bar person actually.”

“
Then why, may I ask, is the reason you've graced us with your presence here tonight?” I struggled to find one. “I sincerely hope it is not to mock us. To run and tell your friends what you saw here. To make jokes about our religious beliefs. Or maybe it was something to write about perhaps? To write stories about how Devil-worship is all about giant sex parties and slicing open innocent animals as an offering to horned Gods? Contrary to popular beliefs, we are not sadistic people, Mr. Naughton.”

“
Oh, no. Not at all. My intentions are pure. I assure you. I'm not—”

“
Good night, Carter,” a woman's voice said from behind me. “Excellent service tonight.”

“
Danica, my dear. How good it was to see you again. Can I count on your appearance next week?” Boone asked.

I turned to see Danica, whom I haven't seen since I was in diapers. It had been a while. I almost forgot what she looked like. She had always been a gorgeous woman, and the years did little to change that. Although she was never a big part of my life, a part of me had grown concerned that she'd recognize me. The chances were slim. I doubted my mother sent my uncle updated photos of me (I actually don't think my mother had any
to
send), and even if she had at some point, maybe in high school, I doubted my uncle would be one to have them framed and hanging on his living room wall. No, I doubted she'd remember me at all.

“
Of course. Have I missed a mass yet?” Danica asked.

Boone shook his head. “Of course you haven't.” He turned his attention to me. “Danica, this is Ritchie. He is new to the group—a long way from becoming a member—and he was just telling me how much he enjoyed tonight's service.”

“Nice to meet you, Ritchie,” she said. She glanced at me for a second, seemingly unaware that I was her nephew, and then turned back to Boone. I felt like I had dodged a bullet at point blank range. “Carter, speaking of newer members; I was wondering if I could talk to you about a particular matter that has been bothering me.”

“
Go ahead.”

“
It's Aurelia. I don't think she deserves to be... inducted next weekend.”

“
I understand your concern, Danica, but Aurelia has been a solid addition to our church.”

“
Don't you think it's a little premature for her to be going through the ceremony? She's only been coming for a few months. It took me a year to become worthy enough for my transformation. I don't believe she is ready. Plus, in case you haven't noticed, she left early again tonight.”