The Chamber of Sins

“That is interesting,” Robert said.

“The Book of sins is vital for humanity and our realm. A minor mistake, and the world will vanish,” Derek said.

“Why?” Robert asked.

“If the Book is stolen, all sins set free, corruption and immorality will sneak into people’s souls. Earth will become the new Hell.”

“What about a fresh, wandering soul? What is the procedure?” Margo interrupted.

“Are you asking for a friend?” Derek lifted one eyebrow as he glared at the girl. “You put me in a complicated position. It would help if you were in Heaven by now. But, unfortunately, your stubbornness extended your time in the human realm and made Heaven vulnerable,” Derek confessed.

Relaxed in a rented room, the woman moaned and stretched her long legs. She threw a loving glance at the man lying beside her. His handsome face was peaceful, his mouth curved into a smile, his lashes shadowing his pale skin.

She checked the phone for the time as she poured a generous quantity of coffee. A message came on.

We need to talk; she read. Then another one came.

If not, I am going to tell everyone

The woman rolled her eyes in despair and started getting dressed. She kissed the man’s cheek and moved a rebel strand of purely yellow hair from his face.

“Love you,” she whispered. She took her purse and left the motel room in a hurry.

Once in the street, she dialled a number.

“We have got a problem,” she said. “Meet me at the orphanage.”

“Ouch,” Robert shouted as he received the brutal hit of the wood rod. “It hurts!”

“Then fight, don’t daydream like a madame in love.” Durant’s and Stephionee’s laughter followed Dubois’s scoff. Infuriated, Robert grabbed his stick from the floor and pushed it forward. He raised it as he put his lead foot in front.

Dubois stared at him with his eyebrows pulled together. Robert stepped another foot in, this time more firmly. He visualised the man’s shoulders into position. I have to stay focused, the boy thought and kept the stick rigid above his head. His opponent swayed the wooden sword in a flat curve and hit his chest cleanly. A wave of silver energy erupted and threw the man on his back. Durant and Stephionee cocked their heads.

When recovered from slamming against the wall, Robert’s hand reached out for Dubois. The opening door spared everyone from the shameful situation. Taking advantage of the sudden interference, Dubois jumped back to his feet, ignoring Robert’s help.

“Hi,” Lefebvre saluted as he narrowed his eyes at Robert and Dubois. “Am I interrupting something?” He asked, watching Dubois while picking up his training sword. He didn’t wait for explanations and dropped a bag on the floor. It fell with a piercing noise that reverberated in the room.

“Don’t tell me,” Stephionee said. She moved closer to the man. “Did you catch one?” She inquired while opening the bag and digging out an iron container.

“What is that?” Robert said.

“A Kugalen,” Lefebvre said.

“A possession demon? Is it not risky?” Robert kept asking.

“These are holly urns. They contain metal from the Crucifixion nails in their material,” Stephionee said fervidly.

“So, what is going on?” Lefebvre inquired, examining the boy.

“He’s Robert, Blake’s lad.”

The man nodded and proceeded to the armoury.

“What is with the white-collar?” Robert whispered.

“Lefebvre is a priest,” Stephionee said.

“Oh, I get it now - the way he got in possession of the demon - exorcism,” Robert said, peering at Lefebvre admiringly. He brushed the room with his eyes in search of Dubois. The man was polishing his actual sword in the corner. Robert tiptoed to Dubois’ personal space and straightened his voice.

“Mmm, I want to tell you I am sorry for earlier. But, unfortunately, I can’t control the pendant. Yet,” the boy said, his voice lost. The man didn’t respond.

“I-” Robert continued, only to cover the odd silence.

“It is fine. I wonder what happened to the owner?” Dubois stared into the boy’s eyes.

He is busy tearing my life apart; the boy thought and grinned.

Still unsettled, Robert left Dubois, and he looked for Lefebvre. The man was storing the metal tank on a mantelpiece; then did some annotations on the label. Robert knocked on the opened door and entered the storage annexe.

The room was crowded. Iron vessels and antiques were somewhere in the corner; iron chains were protecting them. Lefebvre was arranging the urns on the shelves while cross-checking the list.

“Are you busy?” Robert asked.

“Not really. How can I help you?”

“Well, a friend can see ghosts. This friend of mine is wondering if we can help these lost souls find eternal peace.”

Lefebvre stopped doing his thing and gazed at the boy.

“Did this friend of yours communicate with them?”

“He found out from a friend of his of their existence.”

“Did he? And that friend of a friend is alive?” Lefebvre asked, lifting an eyebrow.

“I couldn’t say,” Robert said.

“So, your friend saw a group of souls wondering because their friend informed them. Where are they?”

“At Midwinters mansion,” Robert said, “Where I live.”

“Alright, then. We can meet there and discuss what to do. But remember you cannot get rid of all at once. Every spirit died in a different place. The ritual requires to be in that specific place to perform. If murdered, will we have to find who did it. It is going to be a long process,” the man said.

Robert noticed a safe well hidden in a niche on his way out. It could have passed unnoticed if the small alarm device wouldn’t flicker its red lights.

“Just nothing,” the man said.

“Okay,” the boy said, still wondering what was in there. “It’s set then. Thank you,” Robert said, veiled by a warm serenity feeling. He couldn’t wait to tell Margo about this. By the way, where is she? He wondered.

Margo watched the man’s ghostly silhouette from afar. She took cover behind an iridescent blue Morgan car. The man kept wandering around the imposing house, not daring to enter. It had been like that for hours.

While watching the tormented soul, Margo caught a sudden movement on her right. She left the older man’s spirit for a second, interested in the commotion.

A small boy was pointing in her direction while screaming desperately.

“That woman is spying on me. She has been there for days,” the boy whooped, his cheeks dark red.

People were gathering, their murmur filling the street.

The girl made the lad a sign, trying to silence him, which was wrong as the boy started yelling with all his strength. Margo stepped in his direction when a powerful arm grasping her hand made her stop.

“Where do you think you’re going?” Derek’s voice rumbled.