Devil at the Vatican (BL)

Chapter 29

Antonio's house was large, but everything was in one room, which Elio found a bit strange. Near the door was the long dining table which then led to the kitchen area with hanging pots and a large fireplace. The common area was across from that and at the back of the room were four beds. 

A woman greeted them at the front door, Antonio's wife Rosangela. She had long auburn hair with a sharp streak of gray at the front, and a thin wispy figure. They had a daughter as well, around Elio's age, who Antonio called Dolcezza, which Elio now understood as "Sweetheart." Dolcezza looked eerily similar to her mother, with the matching thin frame and straight nose. 

"We will have supper first, and then answer any questions you have for us," Antonio said as Rosangela placed three bowls at the table. There was leftover first stew slowly simmering on the fire. The fragrance of olive oil, lemons, and peppers thickened the air. Elio's stomach rumbled.

Petru, Elio, and Marcel sat at the table, which was long enough to sit eight chairs. Rosangela served them a bowl of the stew, a heaping serving. 

"Are you not having any?" Marcel asked Rosangela and Antonio.

The couple glanced at each other and remained silent.

Dolcezza spoke up with, "There isn't enough for six. Our guests must come first."

"Such hospitality!" Petru beamed. 

"It is the godly way," Antonio said sheepishly. He seemed rather proud of himself. "You have come under the shelter of our roof."

Sound familiar, Elio?

Trying to disregard the demon, Elio gave no indication of his suspicions. He merely sat with his hands in his lap, waiting for someone else to take the first bite. The aroma of the stew was no match for the sight of it. The broth held the deep red color of wine, with white chunks of fish and green flecks of what smelled like oregano and basil. His mouth watered at the sight of the slice of lemon on top. He wanted nothing more than to consume that lemon, rind and all.

"Let us share this meal, good sir," Father Marcel said, standing from the table. 

Rosangela paled. Elio noticed this, though none of the others seemed to. 

The priest gathered three more bowls from their cupboard and brought them to the table. He grabbed each prepared bowl and split the servings. Satisfied with his work, Marcel said, "See? There is plenty for everyone."

Moving slowly, the family sat at the table among the travelers. Dolcezza sat beside Elio and Rosangela sat beside Marcel, with Antonio on the other side of her.

"Let us say grace," Petru said.

Marcel opened his hands, palms turned upwards towards the heavens. Everyone bowed their eyes at once, clasping their hands before them. Elio watched them all do this, fascinated with the synchronicity of it all. Dolcezza gave him a small kick to the shin and smiled at him, urging him silently to join the prayer.

"Bless us, O Lord, and these, Thy gifts, which we are about to receive from Thy bounty. Through Christ, our Lord. Amen."

They all responded, "Amen."

"Amen," Elio said a moment too late.

Dolcezza giggled, revealing a cute set of bunny teeth. Elio blushed. He looked at Marcel, who was already gazing at him. Caught, Marcel cleared his throat and took bite of the stew.

Petru soon followed suit. He moaned at the taste and then cleared his bowl within seconds. Elio stirred his stew, watching the lemon float around the bowl. 

"Is it not to your satisfaction?" Rosangela asked Elio.

"Please eat something," Marcel urged him as he lifted his bowl to slurp up the rest of the broth. 

When Elio lifted his spoon, his arm slammed his hand down onto the table. Don't eat that. I need to know what they want first.

"Is Murmur warning you against it?" Antonio asked.

Petru slumped over into his bowl, but gravity soon pulled him further down and he collapsed onto the floor next to Elio. Father Marcel looked at Petru, but his eyes were unfocused and his breathing faltered. He didn't go down. Instead, he shoved a finger down his throat and vomited up his meal.

The priest jumped up from the table, still unsteady but boisterous, and threw his chair back. He fell against the front door, his eyes wide and searching.

"Tell me what is going on at once," Marcel demanded.

"Tell him," Dolcezza told Elio as she gripped his hand.

"I don't know all the details," Elio said as he simply sat and watched the scene before him. "Something is wrong with the lemons."

"What are you talking about, Elio?"

"There are eight seats at this table. The friars..." Elio looked at Antonio. "Have you been sacrificing people to the lemon grove?"

Antonio smiled, revealing all of his teeth. "As your will. You can taste it can't you?"

"The souls and the blood, yes. Is the whole town in this?"

The family all nodded.

"What do you want from me?"

"We will grant your wishes, O' Great Lord. Fulfillment of your desires is how our blessings shall flow."

Elio blinked away tears. He stared at his bowl of stew. Something had been brewing long before he came here, long before his demon awakened even. 

"Elio, come here," Marcel beckoned him from the door. "We must flee this place."

Elio looked at the priest, smiling as a tear broke down his face, and said, "I want to live."

"You will, if you come with me now."

"And if your Vatican decides I must die to rid the world of this demon inside me?"

Marcel's entire expression hardened. His stance shifted from vulnerable and staggering to knowing and unyielding. The poison had worn off. It's dosage, cut in half by his earlier sharing, was not nearly enough to cripple the priest for long. 

"May God forgive me," Marcel said, forming a cross with his thumb and kissing it.

He rushed Antonio and Rosangela. 

Antonio was ready for him. The man drew a knife from under the table and swung it at Marcel. Marcel unsheathed a metal rosary and slang it around Rosangela's throat, snatching her forward and into the path of Antonio's blade. He didn't have enough time to stop his trajectory, and the blade sank just above her collar bone. 

Her husband drew the blade back. Blood shot into the air, covering the table before them. Antonio screamed and caught his wife's body before it hit the ground. Marcel released her from the rosary and slowly came behind Antonio. The priest strangled him with the rosary without resistance, for the man was too bereaved to care.

When he was dead as well, Marcel stepped aside so that his body could drop to the floor. Dolcezza sat at the table, frail and helpless. Elio stood and blocked her from the approaching priest.

"We see each other clearly now," Marcel said to Elio.