‘Part of the Ritual’
by Peter Walsh
Part Two
Clare Connor sighed and stretched her curvy frame as much as the
space between her chair and desk would allow. It had been a slower day
than most but productive nonetheless. She checked the time and decided
for the first time in what seemed like a long time that she would leave her
office early. She had lost count of the number of twelve hour plus days
she had worked recently. As usual she had no plans for the evening.
Was all work and no play making Clare a dull girl? She smiled, no-it was
making her a wealthy girl.
‘Clare Connor Property Services’ of Queens Road, Brighton or
www.ccprop.co.uk was her very own successful business. She was her own
employer and was reaping the benefits. She knew that it had been a shrewd
move quitting her job as Human Resource Manager with Dell Computers. The
recent boom in the property market across the South of England had meant little
free time for Clare but huge commissions. It also meant a threeway affair
between Clare, her laptop and her mobile phone. However tonight she would
put the latter relationship on hold. A date with a good, cold Chardonnay,
a pizza and the Brad Pitt video which was already a week overdue at
Blockbuster.
Clare stood up from her desk. Though she felt creased, hot and
maybe a little bothered a quick check in the mirror discreetly located on the
wall adjacent to her desk confirmed that everything was just as it should
be. At thirty one, Clare knew she looked better than she had done at
twenty. Smartly cut honey blonde hair framed a face of striking
conventional beauty. She had good skin, intelligent grey eyes and a
generous mouth. Her work kept her trim and she was almost satisfied with
the shape her five foot six frame was in. She favoured smart suits with
tight, short skirts and classic black court shoes with a three inch heel.
She wore a lilac suit that day over a white silk top, it had made it through
the day almost intact.
She diverted her phone to voice mail and switched off her PC and
made ready to leave. It took some character to quit early, the sense of
achievement through running a successful business on her own was a heady drug
but she only had so much energy. Clare had put so many things on hold in
pursuit of her goals and this included a male companion. She mused that
the latter was a little sad but vowed it would not become a permanent
situation.
She went and locked the front door of her office, put down the
screens and set the alarm. Her red Jaguar XJ6 was parked in her space in
the discreet little yard at the rear of the premises. She would have to
endure the early evening press of traffic out of the centre of Brighton to her home,
a renovated cottage at Plumpton. The cottage still needed work, at least
she had the money if not the time.
She gathered up her things and made ready to leave, the keys to
Jaguar jingling in her right hand. Clare then looked up, gave a small
gasp and came to an abrupt halt.
A tall woman in black stood in front of her.
‘Christina? How did you-’.
The woman smiled.
‘Sorry to startle you Clare-you are leaving?’
‘Yes?’ Clare’s brow creased. ‘Look-it’s nice to see you
again but how did you-’.
‘You very kindly told me if I needed any further assistance that I
come to see you?’.
‘I know’. Clare replied. ‘However it would be best if
you made some type of appointment. Well? Now that you’re here-how
is the house?’
The woman Clare knew as Christina Carnez tossed back her long,
almost scarlet mane of hair and laughed.
‘Perfect! It is everything I hoped for and more’.
Christina Carnez had taken ‘The Rambles’ on a six month
rental. She had paid in advance. Clare had been grateful for this.
‘The Rambles’ was a large Edwardian house which stood on it’s own at the end of
an uneven track off Dyke Road on the outskirts of Brighton. Several tall
oaks blotted out the light to the place, it had high gable ends, fifteen rooms,
boarded up windows and in need of major refurbishment.
The house also had something of a reputation in the area, a little
bit of dark history, some said it was haunted. Clare thought these tales
were stupid but she had no desire to visit ‘The Rambles’ after
dark. The house was part of the estate of a dead recluse, a man whose
life details were rather sketchy. His relatives-what there were-lived in
the USA and their legal representatives had instructed Clare to sell ‘The
Rambles’. Despite a low asking price, there was nobody interested in the
place. That was until Christina Carnez appeared and a lengthy rental
looked a good interim arrangement for the house.
The tall and beautiful woman from the Mediterranean had said she
wanted a large secluded house where she could practice her arts undisturbed.
‘Arts? What type of arts?’ Clare had asked her.
‘Very ancient ones’. Christina Carnez had replied and then
paid her in cash in advance for renting ‘The Rambles’ for six months.
Back to the present, Clare asked her. ‘Why did you come in the
back, I think you’ll find it was locked?’
‘So it was’. Christina Carnez told her. ‘I have to be
discreet as I need your help’.
‘How can I help?’
‘This way’. The woman smiled at Clare. Clare never saw
it coming. Christina’s arm blurred, there was a flash of white and the
damp pad descended over Clare’s face, covering her nose and mouth. ‘I
need you Clare’.
‘Hmmmmmph!’ Clare’s grey eyes became as big as saucers and she
dropped her car keys and her bags. Christina seized her and pressed her
attack home. Clare struggled in the womans strong grip and fought the
drug on the cloth pad pressed over her face. It was all over in perhaps
twenty seconds. Clare’s eyes fluttered closed and her body relaxed in
Christina’s arms.
Christina kept the chloroform soaked pad over Clare’s face for a
further thirty seconds to ensure the drug worked it’s full effect on her.
She thrust the pad inside a special airtight pocket on her dark jacket.
With one arm under Clare’s shoulders and the other under her knees, Christina
picked her up like a child. Clare’s head lolled back, her breathing soft
and regular. Christina Cranez smiled down at her, it was time to leave.
Nobody saw Clare’s red Jaguar leave the yard at the back of her
office, let alone the fact that Clare was not driving it.
Toni Tyrell tried to keep calm and breathed slowly and steadily
through her nose. She again tested the tightness of the ropes binding her
to not only the chair but to her friend Shannon Masters. They’d been
kidnapped, bound and gagged and were imprisoned in what was probably a cellar.
If it was all a joke, Toni did not find it funny one iota.
Shannon began to weep softly again. Toni could hear her and
almost feel her but could hardly see her. She twisted her neck
again. All she could see was the blonde head and the tight knot of the
gag at the back of it.
Toni’s mouth was packed with cloth and taped shut. Her gag was
uncomfortable and shut off any sound she might care to make but Shannon had
fared worse. The poor girl had probably started screaming. Toni
knew Shannon was a sweet thing but was prone to get loud when excited or
stressed, hence the gag being a little more severe in its application.
Toni had awakened from her drug induced slumber as the woman had
been tying her up. She had already been secured to the obviously antique
but very strong chair to a point where any resistance was futile. There
were bindings about her wrists and elbows to the arms of the chair. Her knees
were secured together and the woman was putting the finishing touches to an
elaborate tie which moored her ankles to the front of the chair.
Toni blinked at her surroundings, there was a pain behind her
eyes. There was darkness all around them but something at her feet was
glowing. The woman in the black leather tied a tight final knot on the
cords about Toni’s ankles and then straightened.
‘Good! You are awake! How do you like your new
home?’ The woman was smiling.
Toni looked up at her. ‘Where are we?’
‘Somewhere safe and look-your friend Shannon is here!’
‘Mmmmmph! Ummmph!’ Shannon commented from over Toni’s
shoulder.
Toni frowned up at her captor.
‘Who are you?’
The woman tossed back her splendid mane of hair.
‘You may call me Christina and I am your new friend’.
‘Friends don’t kidnap people and tie them up, both of us-we’ll be
missed’. Toni told her.
‘True,’ The woman replied with another icy smile. ‘But
not for a while and that give’s all the time I need’.
‘For what precisely?’ Toni was already tired of the game.
‘For me to fulfil my destiny’.
‘Which is?’
‘A big surprise for you, your friend and the others-in fact all of
you who are going to help me’.
‘Forgive me for asking so many questions but exactly what form of
medication are you on?’
The woman called Christina laughed. ‘A ready wit, I like
that! You are very fortunate you know? You shall be the witness to
something great and-’. She leaned her face close to Toni’s, it was like
she was going to kiss her, their noses were nearly touching. ‘Something
terrible!’ If Toni had never really been scared before in her life, she
was now.
Christina pulled away from her and reached inside her jacket.
Her hand emerged with a large piece of white cloth. She started to fold
it over until it formed a sizeable wad.
‘Do not attempt to struggle Toni, I know how to tie my captives and
now I am afraid that I must complete your imprisonment with the application of
a gag’.
Toni sighed. ‘What if I promise to be quiet?’
‘I would not believe you, now open your mouth as wide as you can’.
Toni raised her eyes to the dark heavens and did as she was
told. She felt Christina cram the cloth wadding into her mouth, it was
very large, trapping her tongue and filling out her cheeks. Christina’s
gloved hand brought her lips to close about the cloth packing in her
mouth. The hand was replaced in an instant by a long and wide strip of
tape. The tape was smoothed into place. Christina added four more
strips over the first length. Her long gloved fingers with almost loving
motions worked to ensure all the tape fully adhered to Toni’s mouth.
Toni’ blue eyes glared furiously at her tormentor as the finishing
touches were put to her gag.
‘There! Silence in church as it were. This is not holy ground but
it is equally deserving of your respect’.
Toni continued to glare at her.
‘Now my lovely friends I must leave you, I have texts to read and
the other assistants to collect’. Christina then turned and walked off
into the darkness. Toni heard the crack of her boot heals on the floor
and then the sound of a door opening and then banging shut, finally the rasp of
metal on metal as bolts were rammed into place.
She tugged at her bonds which brought a grunt from Shannon.
Toni then cast her eyes down at that which was glowing on the floor. It
was a bizarre shape and through it’s eerie illumination Toni made out it’s
shape. Toni knew what it was.
It was star shaped with five points.
She and her friend were captive inside a Pentagram or was it a
Pentacle? They were the same thing. Toni knew about
Pentagrams. As a student she had explored alternate lifestyles and these
had included reading about certain practices.
The Pentagram held an important place in ritual magic. It was
like a portal or transmitter between various states-at least that what the
books said. The books also had said something else. In certain
rituals of a diabolic nature the Pentagram could also be used to bring unholy
things into the world-Demons!
Toni suddenly felt the cold fear seep through her body. Both
she and Shannon were in terrible danger and there was nothing either of them
could do about it.