ANAK CAHAYA- A child of Light

EPISODE 3

ALL SAINTS DAY: CHILIA VECHE, TULCEA, ROMANIA

Five days before Halloween

The passenger ship arrived in the port at the expected time. As every Friday, the ship is crowded by people, mostly youngsters. They are probably travelling from the city, home for the weekend. Their parents or other family members were waiting on the port’s keys, mostly with cars tracked by horses. She remembers the summer holidays she spent with her siblings, and how their uncle or aunt would wait for them with a car pulled by two horses. The town is very rural; there is no public transport available, and roads? More paths than actual roads. Every time the mayor would put stones on the streets, the rain would wash them away, and the streets would turn back into Venetian channels of mud. She slowly made her way through the crowd. Almost every passenger had bags carrying in their hands, with food bought for lower prices from the city. She was only carrying a well-packed backpack. All she needed were basics, a change of clothes, her laptop and money. It all fit in her jeep backpack. She breathes deeply before stepping on the concrete steps of the cliff; memories began to flood her mind. She is not the sentimental type, or at least that is what she’s telling herself; she pretends that she misses no one. But her childhood friends, her family. This is where she spent her first seven years of life; this is where she made her first friends, where she had her first crush, and where she lost her mum in an unfortunate accident. This is where she lived as a child before she had to mature quickly. She felt like a few fine needles had launched themselves into her heart. The time that has passed and that will never return. She climbed the stairs and sat on one of the benches facing the river, waiting for everyone to pass, and for the cliff to become quiet again. The ship whistled twice and left the port for its next destination. Cars and horses hustled into the town, followed by people guiding their ways with torches. She then took out her mobile, turned the torch mode on and followed slowly into the town. The frozen snow crushing under her boots became the only noise. One would say that she is crazy for walking alone into the darkness of the night, in a town where the crime rate is almost as high as the worst neighbourhoods in London. But she has never feared darkness or loneliness. Maybe she just got used to them. Her employers asked her to keep her interactions with people to a bare minimum, and even disguise her appearance. So, whoever would look at her, would see a woman in her early 20’s with shoulder-length brown curly hair and brown eyes. Even her fashion style was completely opposite to her actual style. She looked nothing like herself. She only used a wig, contact eye lens and some controversial clothing. And that seemed to have done the job, almost a decade passed since she last visited the town. One would expect many things to have changed for the better. But under the light of her mobile torch, the town looked even older and sinister than she remembers.

She called upfront for renting a room, but from all the places that were up for rent, only one met the criteria, ‘La Toma’, a bar that has two rooms for rent on the first floor. She does not like bars, but this was the only place that offered such a short rental at short notice. The rented room reeks of beer and cigarettes, badly lit and cold. She turned the heating on, opened one window and sprayed almost half a bottle of her Jo Malone red roses on the bedding and around the room. She left her backpack on the bed, put her long winter coat back on and headed for the church. In a town like this, the priest is the one that knows the most about the community. She collaborated with him for two whole months and is the only person of liaison that her employers allowed her to contact. They agreed to meet as soon as she gets out of the ship. Outside is dark and cold, the sky- covered in a thick black blanket of clouds leaves no star to light the way. The streets are deserted, because of the cold and biting wind that carries frozen raindrops and snowflakes. She walks fast, head bent down, trying to avoid the freezing fire of the wind. Her hands are deep inside the pockets in an attempt to keep them warm, but the keys and the fist of coins that dances in her pockets with every step she takes are not helping much.

“Buna Seara!” [Good evening!] She startled at the old lady’s salute and attempted a muttered reply, more in English than Romanian. The lady couldn’t have heard her anyway. She was already a few steps away, and the wind was too loud. Ella entered the church and sat in a corner, waiting for the service to finish. Not long to wait as the priest shortened the prayer, the church was too cold to be bearable for more than two hours. The magnificent building standing like a sovereign with its five turrets is still bearing the marks of the second world war. The inside of the church is dimly lit by a handful of candles still burning under the icons. It was a little after 7 pm when most of the attendants left. She headed towards St. Michael’s door and knocked gently on the wood.

“Doar un moment!” [Just a moment!] the priest replied in a kind voice. She stepped back and waited. After about a minute and a half, the priest came out. A young man in his thirties, with blue summer sky eyes and a kind face. His light purple embroidered in gold thread vestments made him look so alike to the painting on the door.

“Binecuvinteaza, parinte!” [Bless, father!]

“Dumnezeu sa te binecuvinteze, fiica!” [God bless you, daughter!]

“What brings you here?” The priest asked her. She doesn’t look familiar, and her accent makes her sound like someone of high social status. The priest felt weary about her.

“We exchanged information via email for the last two months. I am Ella.” Ella introduced herself.

“Oh…Ella!” The priest welcomed her in a hug, happy to finally meet her. They retreated in the back chambers of the church to exchange the latest details about the community of women who call themselves witches. Ella showed him the pictures Mikael gave her and, the priest recognized two of them.

“That is auntie Maria!” The priest surprisingly exclaimed, looking at the photo of an older woman. “This can’t be right!” He continued. “She is always in the church taking care of the icons, dusting the chambers, filling up the oil candles, preparing the sacred items for ceremonies; she is like a nun. That really can’t be right!” He defended auntie Maria. It must be a mistake! He told himself. Although this woman standing here and holding auntie’s picture has never shown anything to not worth his trust. He has known auntie Maria since he received the parish. She helped him every step of the way, for almost a decade. This woman, he only met her now, and they only exchanged emails; why would she have a picture of auntie Maria? Why is she saying that the kind woman he knows for almost a decade is in the witches’ society? The priest felt surprised to hear such words from Ella.

“I don’t know auntie Maria, and I really cannot talk about her. But people often have secrets which are hidden even to the closest of their friends or family members. And then, our potential, as humans for doing evil is as great as our potential for doing good, often being easier to do the first.” Ella skillfully tried to avoid any potential conflict. “What about the second picture you recognized? Do you also know her personally?” She continued her interrogation trying to get as much information as possible.

“I don’t know her personally, but we interacted for diverse projects. She is the mayor’s secretary.” The priest informed her.

“The mayor’s secretary? Argh! Those people are very thorough!” Ella remarked. Using the villagers’ superstitious beliefs to create a mysterious unapproachable society, where they are free to plan all sort of mischievous activities? And making sure they have key roles in society!"  Ella felt a strong feeling of injustice upon learning who is the second suspect.

“So, what exactly is this about?” The priest asked, defeated by curiosity and feeling that he is owned to know at least that.

“My employers said that this group of people that calls themselves witches are planning to hurt a large number of people and make it look like an accident.”

“I don’t get it…what do they have to win out of this!”

“Well, in their mind, they think they are releasing a prince of Hell; they call Beelzebub…how far human madness can go, huh?!” Ella mockingly presented the witches’ plan. The priest’s eyes widened in surprise when he heard the name of Beelzebub; he opened his mouth to say something. However, he didn’t. Instead, he rushed into the altar. She looked around confused. Did he just leave me here? The priest returned, holding a golden cup covered with a purple embroidered towel. Don’t tell me he believes this nonsense! Ella thought to herself when she saw the priest walking out of the altar with the cup for the holy communion. But, out of respect, she abstained from bursting into healthy laughter.

“You will require all the strength you can get; I will offer you the holy blood and body of Jesus Christ, and may God provide you with the solution!” The priest told her, before offering her the holy communion.

“May God hear you, father!” Although, part of her laughs in front of religions and the people who follow those religions. Another part of her, suppressed and made small believes with strength and the priest reaction made that part of her feel afraid of this ‘Beelzebub’.

THE ALL SAINTS EVE, AFTER SUNSET

Although her employers told her that she must break the party or stop it from happening, her investigation brought no results. She concluded that the only way to gather strong evidence is to let the party go as planned, hoping to gather evidence during the party. Today, the crystal-clear sky enriched with stars and the moon, lighting the streets like a far made the town appear whimsical. From the old library that now serves as a town hall, the party is loudly echoing through the town’s centre. Crowds of teenagers and young people wearing all sorts of masks and costumes are heading toward the party of the year. The party is being held by the mayor, and she invited everyone. Ella costumed herself into an angel; she always fancied the heroic and mystic nature of the religious characters named angels. Although sometimes she would attribute certain inexplicable events to ‘guardian angels’, she would disregard anyone who will high and mighty argue that they met an actual angel. The music is good and very loud, they even have all sorts of lights and fancy fumes—a party in the real meaning of the word. She enjoyed every moment of it. Just before midnight, the music stopped, and the crowd started cheering and shouting, waiting for the theatre to play the party’s ‘magical show’ as promised. The blood-like curtains uncovered a group of twelve adults dressed in hooded robes and holding lit candles. The actors formed a circle and started chanting in Latin.  It was a good piece of theatre; Ella got so absorbed by the craftsmanship of the performance that almost forgot her task. Seeing the lit candles, they were holding she remembered that the criminals’ MO, from what the file said, is usually involving a fire accident of some sort. She, then quickly took her mobile out and begun to record the show, keeping an eye around as well.  The actors kneeled and placed the candles on the stage, on top of a drawn pentagram, and begun to chant.

“Deus noster, et paremus tibi offerunt hoc sacrificium. Ad hoc mundo, et ave Ellamus eum ad vincendum!

Noster deus qui es in inferno,

Noverunt nomen tuum,

Mors est regnum tuum,

Fiat voluntas tua!

Ita quod infra est,

Voluptatibus huius mundi- dare nobis,

Ut te in omnibus, et libera nos a malo!

Dirige nos in missione!”

[Our master, we obey you and to you we bring this sacrifice. Come to this world, to rule and conquer it!

Our master who art in Hell,

Known be thy name,

Death be thy kingdom,

Thy will be done!

As below so above,

The pleasures of this world- give us,

And help us on all evil as we help you!

Guide us on this mission!]

“CHANT WITH US!” The witches asked the crowd. The people, in excitement, started chanting with the witches, the name of Beelzebub. While chanting and slowly rising from their knees to retreat a man, who until then was hidden behind the curtain, the actor accidentally fell. Right at that moment, two other actors knocked over two candles while trying to get out of the actor who tripped. The knocked candles lit the pentagram from the floor that seemed to have been drawn with some inflammable substance. From the pentagram, the fire extended to the large platform. Black smoke began to fill the hall. The old library was overcrowded with more than 400 young people, some came from the neighbouring villages, and some were from the city, friends with the town’s people. The fire extended quickly, from the curtains to the people that were attending the party. The actors caught fire and were running towards the crowd. The two doors of the building were not enough for everyone to evacuate the building in time. Many young people died burned alive or choking on the toxic fumes. Some were taken by ambulances at the nearest hospital and died on the way. A few escaped. She ran, she ran like she never ran before and didn’t stop until she reached her room. She crunched to the floor, shocked by what happened. Was it really just an accident? Was there something she could have done? Maybe she should have gone to the police. She had information about them, after all! Ella couldn’t shake the feeling of guilt that overwhelmed her. However, her dark thoughts were interrupted by someone knocking at the door. She rose and wiped her tears, slowly making her way to the door.

“Miss Ella!” The lady behind the door called her.

“Yes, madam!” Ella answered, unlocking her door. “What is it?” She asked the lady who was holding a tray with what seemed to be dinner.

“Your dinner, miss!” The middle-aged women answered.

“I am not hungry!” How could she even dare eating when her actions lead to such outcomes.

“You haven’t had any food since this morning, miss. Is not healthy!” The woman tried to persuade her in having her dinner. After all the room also came with meals included.

“I don’t deserve any food!” Ella replied upset.

“What happened, miss? What’s wrong?” The lady asked her. Ella couldn’t bring herself to answer the question. Guilt? Fear? She usually doesn’t experience such emotions. “Listen, miss if it is about a man. The sea has plenty of fish in it; you don’t have to get your pretty eyes wet for such things.”

“Tee-hee!” Ella laughed sarcastically.

“Is about a boy…” The woman concluded, dissatisfied. “Those men, they are all so selfish! You don’t have to guilt yourself because of them. You’re better off on your own. Or with a woman.” She laughs.

“No. Is not a man! If only this was so simple!”

“But what is it then?”

“Did you not hear it yet?”

“What should I hear, miss?”

“The sirens!” She almost shouted,

“What do you mean, miss?”

“Did you not hear them? All that noise and chaos that happened at the old library? You should even be able to see it from here!”

“Indeed, there was quite a party there!”

“No... the candles. The candles burned the place down!”

“I think you had a few too many, miss! Nothing of sorts happened! I was there too!”

“But it did...All those flames burned the people alive!” Ella argued, choking on her words.

“You must have had a few too many! That didn’t happen at all. You fainted, and because I recognized you, I asked my brother to help me bring you here.”

“But?” She was confused. What the lady told her sounded like good news. But what she recalls feels very real.

“I have proof!” Ella suddenly remembered that she recorded what happened. She began to madly search for her phone. “I can’t find it!”

“That’s because that didn’t happen!”

“No. The phone, I recorded what happened on my phone. And I can’t find it now.”

“Eh…maybe you left it somewhere. Give me your phone number; I’ll call your phone.”

“There is no point; I always keep it on silent.”

“I’ll keep an eye for it. How does it look like?” The woman tried to calm her down.

“Is an iPhone…it has a pink Swarovski phone case with hearts and lips on it. The phone is red.”

“You must have fallen asleep and had a nightmare. Have your dinner; I’ll make tea to help you relax.” The woman advised her. She gestured some hand movement with her hand near her head while exiting the room. Another twisted guest, the woman thought.

“Thank you!” Ella reminded herself to thank her, she wasn’t sure that the woman heard her, as she was long out of her room.

In the morning, she visited the town’s hall, just to make sure that her nightmare was not real. All things were in the right place—just small traces of last night’s party where randomly littering the surroundings.