‘Part of the Ritual’

                                                       by Peter Walsh

 

 

Part Three

 

Sofia Van De Nord looked at the clock and smiled.  In ninety minutes she could switch to her alter ego.  If only her students knew.  Doctor Van De Nord, Doctor of Philosophy, who ran the course ‘Man, Myth and Magic’ at the University of Sussex.  Academic by day, Rock Chick by night.

 

Sofia was alone in the University library.  It was still two weeks before the new term began.  Sofia was doing what she loved second most in life, next to thrusting her body every which way to a dirty guitar riff.  Her first love was research.  In the last six weeks she had been reading up on the local legends, nothing like domestic folklore to bring a certain relevance and interest to the syllabus.  She had the half-acre which was the library and study area to herself, a rare occurrence in term time.  It was empty save for her and every sound she made took on a strangely amplified quality.  She smiled again when she thought that in two weeks the library would be once more filled with the eager and the pressed.

 

It was Sofia’s second year at the university and she was looking forward to resuming her classes with her students.  Sofia knew she was fortunate, the girls in her class admired her and the boys lusted after her.  At twenty eight Sofia was the youngest on the staff of the lecturers and if she was allowed a little indulgence on the vanity front-the best looking by a long way.

 

Sofia was Dutch but felt at home in England.  She liked living in Brighton, it had more than enough history to interest her but it was also crowded, loud and garish which appealed to her non-learned half.  Apart from dancing  Sofia had spent the summer months gaining expert knowledge of the local legends.  She was now well versed in the local tales of devils, ghosts, festivals and rituals, the town and surrounding countryside was alive with them.

 

She got up from her desk and hefted the heavy, dusty and slightly smelly tome that was ‘The Southern Threshold-The Magic and Legend of Sussex’

by Henry W Watts back onto the shelves.  Sofia set her teeth as her boot heels had difficulty finding purchase on the polished floor, she could dance in her boots but not stand it seemed.   As she settled the stout volume back on the shelves Sofia tossed back her long and unusually unfettered auburn hair and smiled as she considered her appearance.

 

Her smart trouser suits and blouses had given way to a sleeveless and very tight red top which showed off her pert breasts to their best advantage.  A tiny black leather skirt with a teasing little split was cinched about her narrow waist.  Knee high boots of black suede with challenging four inch heels perfectly complimented her long legs.  She wore lots of dark eyeliner and her eyes were like pools of melted chocolate and her lips were painted a blood red.  She knew she looked good and willed herself to get on with the tasks in hand, ‘The Kerang Club’ was beckoning.

 

‘The Kerang Club’ opened at ten but really kicked into gear after eleven.  It was located in the large basement of an old theatre club off the North Lanes.  The DJ’s played anything that rocked loud and hard and some great unsigned bands performed there.  Sofia had her favourite bands, Metallica, Korn, Pearl Jam and the Red Hot Chili Peppers and the club DJ’s never disappointed her.  A local band, Touched with Fire, were playing that night and Sofia was eager to check them out.

 

Sofia often wondered if any of her students might spot her there, it was an amusing thought as she reached up for another hefty book off the overloaded shelf.  She then stopped and froze as she heard the sound.

 

Footsteps.  Heels clicking across the floor.  They were coming her way.

Sofia frowned, the cleaners were gone?   The firm which provided the security for the university buildings had already done their first check of the night?  They were boot heels making the noise, it had to be a woman.  She walked past the shelves and looked beyond them.

 

A tall woman, dressed in a black leather jacket and trousers, was walking towards her.  The woman was slender but powerful looking and had long black hair which had a glint of red in it.

 

Sofia became rooted to the spot as if somebody had glued her slender boot heels to the well buffed floor.  Her chocolate eyes then widened in recognition also with some fear.

 

‘Christina?’

 

‘Hello Sofia or should I address you as Doctor Van De Nord?’

 

The woman halted in front of Sofia.

 

‘How long has it been Sofia?’  She smiled. 

 

‘I-I don’t really know?’  Sofia looked around her, she was alone with this familiar stranger.

 

‘Eight years-I think?  My-I do like your outfit!  It does become you, even though it may not be quite appropriate during the academic term’.

 

‘Why are you here Christina?’ 

 

‘Do you recall The Sisterhood?’

 

Sofia breathed in deeply.  ‘That was years ago and we were stupid playing with things that we did not understand’.  Sofia’s mind was suddenly flooded by dark and dangerous.

 

‘Whoever said we were playing?  We saw things, you cannot deny that?’

 

‘Things we were not meant to see, things we should never see’.

 

‘Dear Sofia, you became a teacher, you mean you believe nothing of what you teach?’

 

‘I believe that knowledge offers the best protection against that which should remain confined to other realms’.  Sofia suddenly felt her palms start to perspire and her heart to beat faster.

 

Christina Carnez stepped closer and Sofia’s dread grew even greater when she saw the look in the almost black eyes in that cruelly beautiful face.

 

‘I believe that knowledge is power and by fortuitous chance I have the key to that power that we glimpsed all those years ago.  The Sisterhood is now just you and I’.

 

‘What of the others?’

 

‘They are gone’.

 

‘Dead?’  Sofia gasped.

 

‘Only to this world but I am finding replacements. I intend to have that power Sofia and no one must challenge me-certainly not you’.

 

‘I no longer use the magic-I’ve lost the skills’.

 

‘I know’.  Christina smiled.  ‘You still have your uses to me’.

 

‘Lilith will destroy you’.

 

‘You shall help me Sofia.  I want you to come with me’.

 

‘I will do no such thing!’

 

‘You will’. 

 

Christina then reached a hand inside her leather jacket and it swiftly emerged holding a stainless steel pistol with an attachment to the muzzle.  The latter was pointing right between Sofia’s dark eyes.

 

‘This is a Sig-Sauer P230, it fires a 9mm short round and as you can see it is fitted with a silencer.  It is a useful tool for persuasion’.

 

‘You won’t shoot me Christina-you said you needed me’.

 

‘I will shoot you-I just won’t kill you, how would you like your knee caps destroyed?’

 

Any thoughts or further gestures of defiance then left Sofia.  She knew Christina meant every word she said.  Sofia realised what danger she was in, Christina Carnez was again dabbling with diabolical forces, she had terrible plans and Sofia was part of them.  If she went along with her tormentor's plans she had a chance-for now.

 

‘We’re going for a little ride Sofia, sorry if I have ruined your plans for the evening’.

 

‘Where are you taking me?’

 

‘Nowhere far, now please-may we go?’  Christina gestured with her gun.

 

Sofia sighed and started to move.  She had gone a mere four paces when something white, soft and damp exploded in her face.  The cloth pad was soaked in a cold, sweet smelling liquid and it was firmly clamped over her nose and mouth.  Christina was doping her with chloroform.  Sofia’s hands shot up and tried to pull the drugged cloth off her face.  She had little or no chance of avoiding her immediate fate and in a few seconds Sofia Van De Nord was aware of nothing at all.

 

 

 

Clare Connor looked over her fellow captives once more.  They were both pretty girls, particularly the one with the long dark hair.  The fact that all three of them were gagged denied the opportunity for any introductions.

Clare had done quite a few ‘Bonding sessions’ in her life but this was the first one actually with any real bonds.  She saw and heard the blonde girl, bound back to back with the dark one, weeping.  Tears would not help the situation.

 

What was the Carnez woman playing at?  Kidnapping and false imprisonment was against the law-was she aware of that?  Clare was one third angry, one third frightened and one third fascinated.  Being chloroformed, abducted and bound and gagged was definitely a first for her.

 

Clare had an idea where she and her fellow captives were being held.  It had to be ‘The Rambles’.  She knew that the house possessed a cavernous cellar.  Despite acting as the agent for the property, Clare had never ventured into the cellar.  Visualising it as dark, damp, foul smelling and with all manner of horrid things scurrying across the floor acted as a strong deterrent against further investigation.  In reality it was certainly dark but the glowing decoration on the floor under her high heeled feet was an interesting feature.

 

The tight cords which held her forcibly to the chair were uncomfortable only if she wriggled against them, Clare willed herself to stay as still as possible.

The chair was wooden with a high rest, with arms tied tightly, at the wrists and elbows to the chair arms.  There were cords about her waist and further bindings above and below her breasts which were causing deep creases in her expensive jacket and blouse.  Her knees were bound together and her ankles had been pulled over and tied to the stout left leg of the chair.  Clare saw that her skirt had ridden up and that the patterned tops of expensive Dior stockings were visible.  Her eyes narrowed in the dim light, was that a run in the right leg of one stocking?  She made an angry but muffled sound through the gag.  The gag was perhaps her main source of torment.  Clare was a girl who like to get her points across and for that she needed the use of her mouth.

 

Christina had already finished tying her up when she started to recover from the effects of the chloroform.  She had blinked at her new surroundings, saw the two captive girls a few feet away, jerked against her bonds and opened her mouth to make a loud comment on the situation.  A black gloved hand had swiftly slid over her mouth trapping it closed.

 

‘Silence!’  Christina Carnez whispered loudly. ‘If you will not be quiet I shall be forced to use the chloroform again, nod if you understand?’

 

‘Mmmmmph!’  Clare nodded with the hand gripping her face.

 

‘I have to gag you, so do all that I say’.

 

Clare nodded again.

 

‘When I remove my hand-open your mouth’.

 

The leather clad hand was gone from her mouth, Clare complied with the previous order and opened her mouth.

 

‘Ummmmph!’  Clare exclaimed as her mouth was suddenly packed with cloth and crammed into position by leather clad fingers.  At least the cloth was clean as Clare felt it subdue her tongue and fill her cheeks.

 

‘I’ve lost my roll of tape so I have to resort to more traditional methods for your gag’.  Christina Cranez whispered in her ear.

 

Clare felt a narrow strip of cloth being drawn between her lips and teeth trapping the packing in her mouth, she also felt the stricture being made fast with a tight knot at the back of her neck.  Her jaws were cleaved open with the cloth packing and the strip securing it fully visible.  A wider, black band of material was then drawn about the lower part of Clare’s face covering her mouth, concealing the first layer of gagging.  It was tightly tied in position.

 

‘There!’  Christina giggled and patted the top of Clare’s head.

 

Clare looked up at her and gave her the blackest look possible along with a string of stifled curses.  Christina Carnez laughed and then turned on her boot heels and walked away past the circle of candles and off into the darkness.

 

Clare sat bound and gagged and wondered why she had been kidnapped?

She could pay a sizeable ransom for her own release but she was the sole source for such a sum to be paid.  She was a quick and usually correct judge of character.  Clare knew that Christina Carnez had not abducted her for money but for another purpose.

 

Clare cast her eyes down to the floor again and looked over the glowing lines which formed the five pointed star in which she and the two other girls were captive.  She did not understand what was going on and finally true fear started to well up within her.

 

 

End of Part Three

 

 

 

 

Chapter Four

 

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