The One Where I Reveal the Next Chapter

© Alexander Charles Lomonte and Lomonte’s Lager, 2012. Unauthorized use and/or duplication of this material without express and written permission from this blog’s author and/or owner is strictly prohibited. Excerpts and links may be used, provided that full and clear credit is given by Alexander Charles Lomonte and Lomonte’s Lager with appropriate and specific direction to the original content.

So once again this is the book/movie idea I’ve been thinking of and working on since 8th grade.

By Alex Lomonte

The Beginning
Germany, 1149

The sounds of fighting echoed through the streets of the city. Shouting filled the night, and up in the highest tower of the cathedral evil was being thought up. The priest of this particular branch of the church had not taken kindly to Dmitri Helsgound’s departure, or his beliefs, or his followers. He was staring intently at the battle throughout the city, but he was deep in his mind. He had thought up an evil he had read once in a scroll given to him on his way from Berlin. The fellow who gave it to him was very gaunt and rather skinny, the priest, was quite the opposite, he was almost pompous, in his looks and his behavior, except at this particular hour. He was going to ruin Dmitri Helsgound and whoever followed him.

He looked out the window for one more second, then tore himself from it almost slamming into the choir boy, Stan. Stan, who almost looked like the man who had given him the scroll, except not nearly as threatening, looked at the priest then blurted out, “Sire, is there anything you require?”

“My boy, you are just in time, I do need your assistance,” replied the priest. Knowing this boy was just who he could use and manipulate. Stan was staring at the priest. “Yes, Stan, you are in great need of me.”
“Anything, my lord.” Stan said with a bow.
“Answer me this first.”
“Son, do you have parents?”
“No, no one but the church raised me.”
“Perfect,” the priest pondered this for quite some time, and realized the opportunity that lay ahead of them. “Now, my boy, you must fetch me a scroll. It has red writing and is stored at the very lowest level, at the top of the book shelf, all the way to the right. Can you bring it to me?”
“Of course,” Stan said, and turned toward the door.
“With great haste, my boy!” shouted the priest at the boy’s back.

Stan was flying down the stairs in the church two or three at a time, not wanting to disappoint the priest. He knew better than most that the priest was not as nice as he appeared. Sometimes late at night in the choirs’ chambers he heard the priest beating poor little ones who did his bidding late at night. Stan did not want to know what he did to the children, and didn’t want to find out today.

He tore down and down, though the grand hall, the kitchens, and jumped down a set of stairs that led to a dead end. The hall just ended, Stan had no idea where to go. He looked on the ground for a trap door, and behind tapestries for a lever, he found nothing. He sighed and threw his head up. He opened his eyes and saw a chandelier. He reached up and could nearly touch it on his tip toes. He walked back up the stairs he jumped off of, and then quickly got back and ran, and jumped grabbing the chandelier, which came crashing down along with a ladder. He clung on to the first wrung and then let go, realizing the absurdity of the task he was about to do. He no sooner turned around when he heard a deafening crash from the floors above. Stan froze in his tracks. He knew the attacking forces of Dmitri Helsgound had breached the Cathedral. Stan turned around once again and jumped up onto the ladder and climbed up to a new set of stairs.

He looked back at the ladder then quickly detached it and snapped the wrungs so no intruder would follow him. Stan then went down and down again. Step after step got more damp and cold. He broke into a run and then the torches quickly died off and Stan sprinted right into a wooden door. He quickly fumbled around with the lock and then pushed the door as hard as he could, which slid forward and revealed the library he was looking for.

The room was rather quaint for the evil it held. It had a warm fireplace that was lit in the corner, there was a couch and a table facing the fire. Behind the couch was another table which was littered with various alchemy instruments. Adjacent to the table was the bookshelf, and atop the ancient piece of furniture was an even older scroll. Stan climbed on the table and removed the devilish literature from its resting place. Stan did not sense the demons that were written on the old parchment. Stan quickly scanned the title and could not understand what was written. He had no further thought on the matter and tucked the scroll under his arm and left the way he came.

Stan traversed up the cathedral with great haste, and surprisingly no hassle, the fighting seemed to have moved elsewhere. He sprinted up to the tower where the priest was cast away in and burst through the door. The priest was being attacked by an intruder, he was held close to a hooded man who snapped his head toward Stan and released the poor fat priest and then he quickly left through the gaping window.

Stan rushed over to the fallen man, he put his hand behind the priest’s neck, who was still breathing. “Stan… My boy…” the priest breathed. “Did you get… the scroll?”
“Yes my lord. It is here,” Stan said as he placed the scroll atop the priest’s chest.
“Good…. Now could you read the passage that is third from the end?”
“My lord… but I can’t re—“
“I cannot read at a time like this… you are a bright lad, you can figure it out. Now, the passage third from the end… read it while holding this.” The priest held out an amulet and Stan took it.

Stan quickly glanced at the amulet, seeing devils and horned creatures actually didn’t phase him. He then turned to the third passage from the end and then the words sprung off his tongue. It sounded devilish in nature but though Stan’s mind was telling him to stop the words were coming out of his mouth with ease. Translated in English they said, “…Condemn the men who betray me to an eternity of damnation and torment. If anyone stands in the way of their damnation they too will perish amongst the power of the zombies and will forever regret their bravery…”

Stan’s satanic voice finished the passage and Stan realized from the words coming out of his mouth that Dmitri Helsgound and his followers were in for a horrible surprise. He knew he needed to redo his wrongs. He turned to the priest, “sir….” He trailed off. The priest was dead. Stan stumbled back and slowly got up, he took a look around the room and had no thought of what he could do next. He collapsed in the room and wept. He wept for a few minutes but it seemed to drag on for an eternity to Stan, he was a choir boy, a church goer, and honest man, he never meant to put any curses on an entire village of people.

He knelt there for a while more and decided to get up to pray for God’s forgiveness. He grabbed the scroll on his way out, he needed to destroy it before anyone saw him with it or near the priest. He made his way down the stairs of the tower and was met abruptly by a strong handsome man with electric blue eyes, Dmitri Helsgound. “Pardon me boy, I must put an end to this,” Dmitri said to Stan.
“If you’re looking for the High Priest, he is dead,” inquired Stan.
“Is he now?”
“Yes, a hooded man came in and fled through the window, I guess your deed is done.”
“It seems so. Say, boy, what were you doing up there?”
“Uh… I… d…did something for the Priest…”
“What?! What did you do for him?”
“I… uh… I read him a prayer in his final moments,” Stan said with as much gusto as he could, trying to force his lie upon the enemy, he tried making the scroll disappear by squeezing it.
“What’s that you’re hiding, boy?”
“N-nothing…. Its something I used to help pray for the priest’s premature death.”
“That’s not just nothing, that’s Satan’s Scroll, the deepest darkest curses are held in there…” A chill swept through the staircase. “What were you doing with it up there?”

Stan thought about what he could say to this man, he knew he didn’t want to confess his sin but before he knew it a voice built up inside him and said, “I did what was right for the church.” It was the voice of the priest, it continued, “I see what you do to your children’s minds, and you poison them with the thoughts of freedom. Life isn’t about freedom, you aren’t free until you’re dead. You have nothing until you’re free of life’s grasp, and the moment you are you can do what you wish! You Dmitri Helsgound, are soon to realize that your afterlife will be enslaved too! You are haunted by me and the scroll of hell! Burn Dmitri! BURN!”

Dmitri unsheathed his blade, white with a rose pedal at the hilt of the grip, he picked it up and ran it right through the gut of Stan, he pulled it out and cut his head with one smooth stroke. He walked back down the staircase and out of the cathedral as cool as night.



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