THE CHURCH OF BLOOD

Chapter Thirteen - Pentacles 29 & 65

Beynolds awoke in the basement of the hospital.  His head hurt, his body ached, and his hands were bloody.  He gingerly touched the back of his head and discovered the source for the blood:  he felt a gash in his skin, most of the blood having dried.

Looking around, he noticed most of the interior dark, the lighting extremely low.  He allowed his eyesight to adjust to the dimness around him before he tried getting up.  A flash of pain rocked his vision and he fell back, grabbing his upper leg near the hip.  It was bruised.

Someone had kicked him there.

"Ah, Reynolds, my boy," a familiar voice antagonized.  "Always striving so hard."

Beynolds stopped, averting his attention to the sound of the voice.

"Captain Dardell?"

The captain of the Philadelphia police department emerged from the shadows, an amused smile on his face.  "Yes, Beynolds.  You guessed it."

"I don't..." Beynolds began.

"...understand?"  Dardell chuckled.  "Well, I guess it's easy to tell that I'm a part of this... I guess you could say, cult quote unquote, if you will.  I was hoping this case would've died out since that cold case thirty years ago but alas! it continued.  And to fall in the lap of one of Philly's finest detectives along withbhis partner, well..."  Dardell shook his head and snapped his fingers.  "So it is."

Beynolds felt for his weapon.

"Don't bother," Dardell said.  "It's been confiscated."

Beynolds struggled to his feet, the pain from the bruise on the back of the head filling his senses.  It made his entire body hurt.

"What do you hope to gain from all of this?" he managed.

"Power, my dear boy," Dardell explained.  "Total, absolute power.  The greatest power in the world!  The same kind of power King Solomon had when he built that temple all those centuries ago.  I mean, the power to control demons, angels, nature itself.  Could you imagine possessing all of the knowledge of the world?  You can be a part of it, too."  He extended a hand to his detective.  "Imagine being part of something far greater than life itself.  Just imagine the possibilities."

"What does any of this have to do withbthose boys killed in that church?" Beynolds asked.  "Even the ones killed thirty years ago?"

"They were the sacrifice," Dardell simply explained.  "The power of three.  Three is a divine number.  Those boys were the key to pull the esoteric power and magic to our realm."

"Father Kyler?  And Father McClellan?  Were they a part of this?"

"No.  Not at all.  They were just in the way.  Expendable.  They were given the opportunity to be a part of it but they declined.  Father Handerson informed me about Father Kyler all of those years ago.  So I could, you know, get caught up."  Dardell snickered.

"Who's Father Handerson?"

As if answering his question, an object struck Beynolds in the back, knocking him to his knees then face down to the floor.  He rolled over painfully onto his back and saw a pipe dangling above him by itself.

"Detective Beynolds, meet Father Handerson," Dardell replied.

Father Handerson materialized much to Beynolds' shock.  He was smiling.

"Pleased to meet you, detective," he said.

"See, son, Father Handerson has unlocked the power of invisibility," Dardell explained.  "His is just one of hundreds of powerful attributes that can be mastered."