The Scarlet Gospels by Clive Barker

Author:Clive Barker
Language: eng
Format: epub, pdf, mobi
ISBN: 9781466859555
Publisher: St. Martin's Press

13

Being in the fog had very little impression on Norma. The Hell Priest had done as she had asked him, and whatever protection he was using to seal himself off from the fog’s effects he had extended to her. She heard, all too clearly, however, the ghastly noises behind her made by those who had been subjected to the fog’s influence. Some were simple grunts made by creatures in pain, others begged more articulately for help, but most pitiful of all were those who—upon seeing the Hell Priest’s imposing figure emerge from the muck—requested with as much civility as they could muster that he please put them out of their misery.

Suddenly Felixson began to shout. Norma, who had clutched at his garments, felt the fabrics torn from her hands.

“Oh God in Heaven, no!” he shrieked. “I can smell the fog. It’s getting in my eyes. My mouth! Lord! Master! Help me!”

Norma stopped dead in her tracks.

“Hello? What happened? I thought Felixson was protected?”

“He was,” the demon said, near to Norma’s ear. She jumped at the sound of his voice. “But I’ve stopped.”

“What? Why?”

“His story is at its end. His service to me is complete. I have, in you, all that I need.”

“You can’t! I beg your mercy, on his behalf.”

“You do not want to assume such a debt.”

“He eased my pain.”

“Because he did not wish to carry you.”

“I know. I knew even then, when he was doing it. But still, he did it.”

“Very well. All he need do is ask. Do you hear, Felixson? Ask, and ye shall receive.”

There was an answering sound from the magician, but it did not resemble any words known to Norma. Norma reeled in the direction of Felixson’s gasps.

“Speak!” she said. “Felixson, listen to me! Your Lord called your name! Answer him. That’s all you have to do.” She took a step in the man’s direction, her arms extended. The tip of her right shoe came in contact with him first.

“Can you hear me?” she begged, bending forward and searching for the magician.

A gaseous grunt was all she received by way of reply.

“Felixson! Speak the words.”

She heard pitiful sounds indicating his final attempts. Then she heard nothing.

“Felixson?” she whispered into the darkness.

“He can’t hear you,” the Priest said.

“Oh Lord in Heaven,” Norma muttered. Her fingers, not yet believing what her mind was still only realizing, continued their search for Felixson’s body. She had taken a knee when her fingers made contact with something hot and sticky. Instantly she pulled her hand back, her mind’s eye already painting an unwelcome picture of flesh ravaged by the carnivorous fog.

“I don’t understand,” she said. “This man was loyal to you.”

“What have I to gain by feeling anything?”

“Isn’t there anything you care about?”

“All is death, woman. All is pain. Love breeds loss. Isolation breeds resentment. No matter which way we turn, we are beaten. Our only true inheritance is death. And our only legacy, dust.”

So saying, he turned and walked on, leaving the dead man behind. Norma said a

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