THE CHURCH OF BLOOD

Chapter Two: Beginning Stages

     Professor of philology, Xavier Wallcliffe, looked up from the test papers he was in the process of grading when Father Clark knocked on his office door.
     "Ah!  Long time, Dylan my friend," the professor beamed as he stood to shake the priest's hand.
     "It has been a while," the Father agreed.  "Good to see you, Xavier."
     The professor gestured to the chair across from him.  "Please, sit down.  Can I get you some water or coffee?"
     "Oh, no.  I'm good.  Thank you," Father Clark answered, sitting down.
     Professor Wallcliffe reclined back in his chair, preparing his smoking pipe.  "So.  I assume from my secretary regarding your phone call yesterday that you had something of extreme importance to discuss."
     "Yes."  Father Clark removed the piece of paper handed him by Anita at the hospital from his pocket.  "I have a patron from my parish who's son is ill in the hospital.  She gave me this.  It was found near the young man as he lay collapsed on the floor in his bedroom and I am curious as to what it could mean.  I thought someone of your profession could make some sense of it?"
     The professor took the paper handed to him and unfolded it, adjusting his glasses.  He leaned forward, a confused yet curious look on his face.  "Strangely peculiar."
     "As I so thought," Father Clark attested.  "Anything come to mind?"
     The professor placed his unlit pipe down.  "I don't have the slightest clue.  However, the writing scribbled in the border between the two circles appears at least to be Hebrew."
     "I agree.  The drawing itself is what is quite puzzling."
     Professor Wallcliffe glanced over at the priest.  "Quite.  Excuse me."  He reached over to the right side of his desk and opened a drawer, removing a magnifying glass.  "Old eyes," he joked.  He peered through the glass at the image, turning the paper slowly as he attempted to read the Hebrew-styled calligraphy.  "Yes.  Definitely Hebrew.  Possibly Aramaic."
     "I think the drawing itself is of an occultic nature," Father Clark suggested.
     "I know of a colleague, not of this here institution, but one who is quite skilled in occultic studies," Professor Wallcliffe offered.  "May I make a copy to send him?"
     "Bye all means."
     The professor addressed his secretary over the intercom and instructed her as to his plans for the drawing when she entered the room.  When she was handed the paper, she stopped in the foyer on her way out as she stared at the drawing with intense eyes.  She then turned, a questioning look on her features.
     Professor Wallcliffe noticed her hesitancy.  "Yes?"
     "I've seen this before, I think," she confessed. 
     "Can you remember where you might have seen it?" Father Clark questioned.
     "I read books on ancient history and culture in my spare time," Tabitha explained.  "I think I can find it and bring it in, if you like."
     "Yes, most definitely," the professor stated excitedly.  "That would be a great help, Tabitha."
     Tabitha smiled agreeably and left the office.
     The professor eyed the priest incredulously.  "I never knew," he replied, gesturing toward his secretary.  He shook his head.  "Not the slightest clue."
     Father Clark chuckled.  "You have a gem of value," he agreed.
     "Yes."  The professor picked up his pipe and methodically placed it between his teeth.  He pondered a moment.  "You said that the lad of the distressed matriarch at the hospital was unconcious with that drawing laying beside him in his room?"
     "Correct."
     "And you think it has something to do with the young boy's condition?"
     "Yes."
     "May I inquire as to why you assume that?"
     "The boy's mother said he had been convulsing and foaming at the mouth when she and her husband checked in on him the second time.  She spoke of her son's strange behavior that night, secluding himself for so long a time which she admitted was unlike him.  Mother's instincts, you understand."
     Professor Wallcliffe nodded understandably.  "Anything else you might conclude?"
     "Not at this time, no."
     Tabitha returned.  "Here you are."  She placed the paper on the professor's desk.  "I will be delivering the copy to Professor Hempstead this afternoon.
     "Thank you, Tabitha," the professor said.
     "Anything else, Professor?"
     "Uh, no.  That'll be all."
     Tabitha left.
     Professor Wallcliffe picked the drawing up again.  "May I keep this?"
     "By all means," Father Clark replied.  "I have my own copy in my files."
     "How is the boy doing?  At the hospital?"
     "He's doing fine.  Looks like he'll pull through.  After his recovery, I'm hoping to gather some information from him regarding the image.  I never suspected the young man to be interested in the occult."
     "You're quite convinced it is definitely occultist in nature?" Professor Wallcliffe questioned.
     Father Clark thoughtfully nodded.  "Indeed I do.  Very much so."

                            ***

     Tabitha quickly returned to her desk and sat down, cautiously watching the professor's office entrance as she opened a nearby drawer and withdrew a copy of the strange drawing that she had made for herself.  She grabbed the phone receiver and cradled it in the crook of her neck as she hurriedly punched the keypad. 
     She snuck another furtive glance at the professor's door as the other end clicked in response.  "Hey.  It's Tabitha," she whispered, a smile spreading across her well-contoured face.  "You know that pentacle you've been looking for? Well, I have it."

©2017 Robert Sticek