( THE PRIEST OF SANTA MARIA ) - [ CHAPTER 48 ] - { PT. 3 }


 { PT.  3 } - When they finally reached the top, an explosion of mass proportion sent a crippling tremor through the vessel. Seismic vibrations rumbled through their bodies as the ship wavered from side to side, enough to send them bouncing against the railings behind them. Frya grabbed the handle and pushed on the bulkhead door. Its weight felt like a ton of scorched metal. It's stuck, she yelled. Angelica pushed the door with all her strength. It relented but an inch. There's something on the other side. Behind them, the fire crawled towards them as if its conscious purpose was to seek out and devour the living. Sounds of whipping, crackling and buckling grew ever closer as did the rise in humidity and the diminishing oxygen. We don't have much time left, yelled Frya. Christiano stepped forward and gave the door a kick. The obstacle on the other side moved slightly before bouncing back. He followed with a succession of hard kicks--giving little chance for the object to rebound onto the door--until there finally appeared a gap large enough for the women to pass. Angelica was the first to slip through, tripping over the hindrance at the doorway. She looked across to see the Chief Officer's corpse--his left eye a black, empty hole, his right wide and vacant. She squealed, kicking back with her legs. Frya followed behind her and caught sight of the dead body. This is the work of the Cardinal, yelled Angelica. How did he find us? Frya helped her to her feet. 

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

THE PRIEST OF SANTA MARIA - [ CHAPTER 48 ] - { PT. 7 }

Image
  { PT.  7 } - Kristoff's eyes widened; his black dilated pupils covered their entire sockets. He raised the knives in the air. The reflection of the flames set the blades on fire. They flickered in his eyeballs. This kill is sanctioned by God. You carry an abomination, and you must die. Angelica maintained her composure, her fearless gaze focused on eyes that looked like empty sockets, ablaze. She looked across at his hands futilely quivering with determined force, yet Kristoff's arms remained suspended in the air. He stared at them as if they were alien, trying to move them with all the strength he could muster. He turned his dumb-founded gaze on Angelica. What are you? he managed to say before he found himself taking off through the air. Firmly attached to his hip was Christiano, ramming him with all the might of a bull. They landed several feet away on the sloping ground and wrestled in a tangled embrace as they tumbled down the deck. Christiano! cried Angelica, watching he
Read more

THE PRIEST OF SANTA MARIA - ( CHAPTER 48 ) - { PT. 8 }

Image
  { PT.  8 } - It's going to get rocky. Frya blocked the door and made her way to the helm. The next explosion tore the ship in two. The screeching metal carcass careened to an extreme angle sending cargo containers the size of coaches spilling into the sea. Frya frantically pumped the release lever, and the lifeboat slid off its davits. It nosedived into the water like a playful whale, submerging into the sea and causing crashing ripples around them before it sprung to the surface. It danced on the stormy waves as Frya steered the boat like a native seaman, taking them a safe distance from the swirling vacuum. Only the four of them had made it to safety. A tortured Angelica rose from her seat and pushed her way past Achilleus. She pulled the door open, slumped on the flood and looked towards the sinking mass before her. The ship's mast, now a flaming beacon of the ship's existence--the rest of its body submerged beneath the ocean. Christiano, she whimpered unable to steer
Read more

THE PRIEST OF SATAN MARIA - ( FOUR-AND-A-HALF YEARS EARLIER ) [ CHAPTER 49 ] - { PT. 8 }

Image
  THE TWO MEN ROLLED -  ( CHAPTER  49 )  -  { PT.  8 } - like tumbleweeds down the sloping deck, speeding through fore and knocking against sharp, unidentifiable obstacles--both maintaining their grips like two vices. Their descent to the ocean depths was shielded by a large cargo container loosely hinged in mid-air. It creaked beneath their weight as if this one more pressure was just too much to bear, and at any moment it would plunge into the sea and take them with it. Both men were indifferent to the danger. With Kristoff pinned to the ground, Christiano had the advantage; his hands clamped around his neck in an indomitable grip. The assassin's hands were cemented to Christiano's wrists, pushing against him with all his strength. The sweat on their bodies sizzled. The heat from the scorching fire was hazardously close. The groaning cargo container continued to hinge up and down like a seesaw. Each movement threatened them with imminent death. Sweat dripped from Christiano&#
Read more