THE PRIEST OF SANTA MARIA

{ PT.  1 } Two gaping holes on fire blazed from the devilish eyes of the beast pinning Christiano to the ground. It flashed its serrated teeth as it inched closer. The smell of rotting flesh repelled his nostrils as a dense, sebaceous liquid dripped from the beast's mouth and slid across Christiano's cheek. He gawped in terror as it sprouted two more heads with extended necks. Each head turned to the other menacingly before it returned its demonic gaze on him and zigzagged its way to his face. A furnace of fire exhaled from each mouth. Chrisriano's eyes shot open. He whipped his head round the dim hotel room, his breathing laboured and his body dripping with sweat. From the sofa where he lay, he could see Angelic sound asleep on the bed, her chest rising and falling in rhythmic beauty. He exhaled with relief and flopped his head back on the pillow. But he was still restless, and his mouth tasted like sawdust.                    ...

CHAPTER THIRTY  -  PRIEST OF SANTA MARIA { PT. 1 } - Marcello's car cruised along the country lane with an anguished Christiano   at the wheel. Sixteenth-century farmhouses rose in the distance sculuded behind stone walls bearing cracks and fissures that mirrored the worn face of time. His glazed eyes were mesmerised only by the road markings rolling by in a precise, hypnotic rhythm. Angelica was sound asleep with her head pressed against the door. Flashing past her window was an intoxicating sea of bountiful vineyards bearing swollen grapes ripe for the picking and budding vines that a fine bouquet. Christiano peered at her, catching the image of her hair highlighted with a dazzle of orange flecks from the sitting sun. He took a deep breath and forced himself to look away. He was angry about what he had been forced to do, yet when he wanted to do was to save her. He felt himself sinking deeper into the pit of quicksand that had become his life, and he could see no way ou...

[ CHAPTER  TWENTY  NINE ]  { PT.  1 } - Age-old trees of oak, beech and poplar soared high above Enzo's car as he sat with adrenaline-fused eyes, chewing gum and staring into oblivion. A breathtaking sight of a red-orange hue filtered through the branches and the dawn had set the sky on fire, but his only concern was how the hick he was going to get himself out of this one. He was growing too old for a life that left a bad taste in his mouth and an ever -mounting body count. He wanted nothing more than to retire. The phone rang, waking his from his stupor. The caller ID flashed with Don Primo's name. He took a deep breath, braced himself, and answered the call. Boss. What happened at the house? I didn't hear from either of you. We didn't want to wake you. We were driving all night to get to this cabin where the priest's mother told us he would be. You're there now? We just got here. What happened back at the house? The message was delivered and received. Who was...

[ CHAPTER  TWENTY ]  -  THE PRIEST OF SANTA MARIA { PT.  1 } - Marcello's car bumped against every rock and lump of protruding mud on the dirt track leading to the cabin. The towering trees trapped the darkness around them. It was like being inside a sarcophagus. Christiano reached a row of poplar trees which offered the perfect seclusion and parked. Well this is it! he said, switching the engine off. The eerie sounds of the indigenous night creatures screeched through the silence. the car's headlights illuminated a small cabin in the distance. He cut the light, enveloping them in blackness. Angelica's haunted eyes stared into the shadows. What is this place? It's not as scary as it looks. He reached his hand to the back seat and retrieved a large torch. I spent many a night here with my grandfather. This is where he gave me the knife I carry. Some of my fondest memories are here. How long ago did he die? Many years ago. I was just fifteen. We kept the cabin as a fam...

CHAPTER  TWENTY  SEVEN                                                            ( PT.  1 ) - The afternoon sun made its last tribute to the day as the car journeyed back to Christiano's hometown. Enzo rubbed his bloodshot eyes while Ricardo concentrated on the his face. I knew I should have killed the priest, but that she went crazy and you stopped me. It would have taken me a few seconds to pump some rounds into the back of that truck. And what about the old man driving? He would have been a witness. Would you have killed him too? Listen to you. Enzo's face was contemptuous. As far as I'm concerned I made the right call. The police were fast approaching and we would have been caught. I would have shot them too. So Don Primo pulls a few strings. It wouldn't be the first time. Enzo rolled his eyes. Okay tough guy, next time...

{ PT. } -    Sammel Gruner sat on the umber-coloured sofa in Don Primo's office sipping ice-cold water from a glass beaded with condensation. As a seasoned veteran, working as a body-guard for the rich and famous, he was accustomed to danger and fully trained in combat. However, ten to one did not carry good odds. He was outnumbered and in someone else's territory with only his wits as his weapon. Beneath the cool exterior of his dark suit and shades, he excelled in concealing the knot of dread wringing his guts into a twisted mass. From behind his desk, Don Primo scrutinised him for any weakness, any sign that he could use to his advantage. He saw none. I gather my money's in the case. Sammel's legs gripped the brief-case at his feet. That is correct. He spoke in a sharp, accented tone that was a stiff as a corpse, to the point, and replete with effciency. The briefcase contains one million euros, the second instalment as arranged with His Eminence. Don Primo's eye...

( CHAPTER TWENTY FIVE )  -  { PT.  1 }                                                             As mid-morning smiled on the old Tuscan town, Christiano realised he was starving. He rummaged in his rucksack for one of the sfogliatella he has purchased from Maria and bit into the crumbly pastry. His stomach welcomed the influx of food as the bitter-sweet marzipan settled on his tongue. All the while he maintained a vigilant eyes on the building opposite. Enzo had been the first to arrive at around nine. He had parked next to a white Mercedes, which Christiano guessed belongd to Dom Primo. As he satisfied his appetite, a car reached the electric gates and entered the car park. Two stout men in their way through the restaurant's side door. Soon after, another car arrived, and for about half an hour the gate sporadically open...

{ CHAPTER  TWENTY  FOUR }                                                                                       { PT.  1 } - Christiano reached the hilltop town in the early hours of the morning. He parked on the outskirts of a medieval citadel of monotone stone buildings that stretched up to the crest of a hill. Each structure progressively towered over the next and continued higher and higher as if on a quest to reach the heavens. He took two painkillers, waited for a few more minutes until seven o'clock and then left his vehicle. He made his way on foot along the tapered winding pathways. The sun's basking rays warmed his shoulders as he walked beneath aged stone archways and continued along a succession of circuitous roads, in what seemed like an infinite s...

[ CHAPTER  TWENTY-THREE ]  -  { PT.  1 }                                                     Spasms of pain struck like lighting bolts through Christiano's brain, rousing him to consciousness. With each attack, he could see kaleidoscopic veins of light in his minds eyes. His eyes cracked open to a haze of colours and unfocused shapes. He's awake, said t tearful Rosa. Christiano! Just give him a moment, said Emilio. His vision gradually focused. His mother and father stood over him. Their faces were worn with concern. What happened? he croaked. I'm sorry, son, said Rosa, sobbing. In an instant, his memory transported him back to the moment he left the barber's shop. Angelica! He swiftly sat up. Every inch of his body screamed in protest. His father tried to calm him. Rosa burst into tears. I turned away for a moment to sample some olives, a...