CURSED 1

A NIGHT TO REMEMBER

Ron looked like a kid ready to hit the crap out of a pinata. He was the

deranged kid and I was the pinata. Already, I figured he had done some serious

damage to me. He had either chipped my vertebrae, or ruptured my kidney, or

both.

As he wheeled back to take another swing, and as I was about to dive under

the nearby SUV, we both heard a commotion coming from down the street. He

stopped in mid-swing, and I stopped in midsive, and promptly coughed up some

blood.

And while I coughed, a van appeared around the corner, screeching on two

tires. Three guys in black trench coats hung out of the open van doors, whooping

and hollering at the top of their lungs. I had just propped myself up on a knee

when the van burst over the curb. It bounced and skidded to a halt, tearing up the

lawn next to me.

You have got to be kidding me. What the hell did I just get myself into?

All of the doors to the van seemingly opened at once, and three guys poured

out of the van, all wearing trench coats and looking as if they had just gotten

back from a Marilyn Manson concert. Oddly, they looked alike: tall, pale, and

with long, greasy black hair.

I coughed, and more blood came up. I stood slowly. I think Ronnie had

cracked a rib, too. As I stood, I felt a gentle hand under my elbow, helping me.

Say what? I looked, surprised, wanting to know who it was. Lena! She smiled at

me, but the smile quickly faded. Her eyes flashed a warning in the direction of

the death rock trio.

As I steadied myself, the tallest of the van freaks--easily seven feet tall--

rushed over to Lena, who was still holding my arm. He grabbed her shoulder and

spun her around. She pulled me with her a little, and I spun, too, nearly falling.

The giant weirdo said, and none too politely: “What the hell are you doing at

this meathead party? I warned you to stay away.”

She stood her ground, looking up at the guy. “You think I wanted to come to

this party, Atticai? One of these assholes drugged me at the club, kidnap me,

and brought me here.”

A woman got out of the driver’s side of the van. She had dark reddish-maroon

hair and was paler than all the guys put together. She was stunning. She too,

wore all black, but it looked like a jumpsuit, and she had a bull whip in her hand.

She cracked it in the air for effect, not hitting anyone, but it was one of the

The sexiest things I have ever seen. Hot damn. This night was just getting better and

better.

“They drugged you?” asked the tall guy. Atticai, I assumed.

But before she could answer, one of the frat guys yelled out, “Hey, Freak.

Show! Get your f*****g van off my lawn or I’m calling the police.”

“Who said that?” Attica said, scanning the crowd, which was pretty easy for

him to do, since he was the tallest guy I had even seen up close.

A real muscular guy came forward. “I did,” he said. “Now get your fucking

van off my grass or I’m going stick my foot deep in your bony ass.”

Attica turned away, ignoring him. He took both of Lena’s shoulders in his

abnormally large hands. “Did they hurt you?”

Lena looked away. There were tears in her eyes. Hell, there were tears in my

eyes, too. “Almost.”

I looked at Ron. He was standing with his back to me, holding the bat loosely,

completely absorbed by the three strangers. My back throbbed to the rhythm of

my heartbeat.

The tall guy said, “So, which one of these young men thought it would be

okay to drug a young woman and take advantage of her?”

Without hesitation, Lena pointed at Ron, who stepped back a little and

gripped his baseball bat. “Hey, man, I don’t know what she’s talking about.”

“Of course not,” said Attica. “Lena, get in the van and shut the door.” He

looked back at Ron. “My little ginger-haired friend is going to be taught the

correct way to treat a lady.”

Lena grabbed the tall guy’s hand. “Attica, please. Someone already took care

of it. Just let it go.”

Ron, hearing this, took a step back. He also raised the bat again. Atticai

continued looking at Ron. “Yes, I can see that someone did some damage to the

boy.”

“Who are you calling boy, punk?” Ron jutted the fat part of the bat in the

direction of the tall figure.

Atticai’s face hardened. He looked back at Lena. “Get in the van. Now.”

Lena looked at me one more time, tried to smile, and then hurried over to the

van. I want to say something, but I’ll admit, I was awkwardly caught up in the

scene. Besides, Lena seemed to know these weirdos and didn’t seem afraid. Or,

At least, she seemed less afraid.

I had been in enough brawls to know that one was about to go down, and I

was pretty fought out for the evening. Getting hit in the back with a bat has a

way of doing that for you.

I told myself: This is none of your business. Leave now before this gets ugly.

Easier said than done. For now, it was all I could do to suck in a deep breath,

let alone walk away. Besides, there was the small matter of a little payback.

Let it go, I thought. And get the f**k out of here.

“So, you play baseball, Fatty?” Attica asked Ron. From somewhere deep

Inside the tall man’s trench coat, he removed a length of chain.

A woman in the crowd gasped. A lot of people did. Lena was watching from

the front seat. She looked sick.

Ron dropped the bat. “Look, no harm, no foul. You guys can just go.”

“Oh, we can?” Attica began circling Ron. The chain hung limply from his

long arm. “How very generous of you.”

“Please--”

“If only life could be so simple, Red.”

“My name is Ron.”

“Thanks for clearing that up, Red. So, you meet a pretty young girl at a bar,

slipped something in her drink when she wasn’t looking and thought that you

and your buddies would do the unthinkable to her. But, somehow, your plans

didn’t quite go as planned.” Attica smiled at his little play on words.

Ron gulped audibly.

Atticai continued circling Ron. The gaunt figure, easily a head taller than the

cherub-faced Ron looked at me and caught my eye. He nodded perceptively.

and I understood the meaning. He was thanking me. Attica looked back at Ron.

“Unfortunately, for you and your sick plans, you didn’t count on others helping

her. You sick f**k racist, never figure that out... that some people truly love these

girls who you hurt.”

“Look, man. I’m sorry. I didn’t do anything. You can even ask her.”

“I don’t need to ask her. You want to know why? I can see through you. I can

see your heart. I can see your soul. And you know what? You aren’t a righteous

person. So, that is why I’m going to finish giving you the beating that someone

else started.”

Ron faded to a whiter shade of paleness that was so light that his freckles

stood out like black polka dots on his skin. Then again, that could have just been

a play on light. Either way, he started walking backwards--and promptly tripped

over the garden hose. He screamed as if he had been shot, scrambled to his feet,

and made a mad dash toward the front door of the house.

Attica watched him with a bemused expression on his face, and I thought

That was going to be it. Ron would run to his room, and everyone would

disperse, and I would limp my way home.

I couldn’t have been more wrong.

The tall man swirled his long chain like a lasso and what he did next defied

logic and reason. He threw the chain, which whipped through the air, humming

as it went. The chain wrapped around Ron’s legs perfectly and the burly dope

pitched forward onto the house’s concrete steps. My mouth had barely dropped

open, when this Attica character somehow, miraculously appeared on top of

Ron.

Then Attica opened her mouth, and in the ambient street and house lights, I

I could see that he had off his teeth. What the hell? A second later, he

buried his teeth and face into Ron’s neck. Ron screamed like a girl. Someone

else screamed, too. Ron kicked once, twice. More people screamed.

Was I being Punk? Was this happening?

A moment later, Attica pulled his face away--a face now covered with blood.

Ron laid perfectly still, with blood pouring down his neck; his blood splashed

over the concrete stairs.

This was real. The seven-foot tall freak f*****g bit into the fat boy’s neck. And in

In front of a crowd of people. Unbelievable!

Attica casually picked Ron up by his neck, lifting him entirely off the

ground. Ron’s legs dangled like a five-year-old’s. And with a primeval growl,

The tall freak threw Ron off the stairs and into the bushes nearby.

And that’s when complete pandemonium broke out.

The princess, who is the mother of all that want her assistance. Farewell; it is not seemly

for me to hold further converse with a man at this unwonted hour.”

“May the saints guard thee, gracious Lady!” replied the peasant; “but oh! if a poor and

Further, a worthless stranger might presume to beg a minute’s audience further; am I too happy?

the casement is not shut; might I venture to ask—”

“Speak quickly,” said Matilda; “the morning dawns apace: should the laborers come?

into the fields and perceive us—What wouldst thou ask?”

“I know not how, I know not if I dare,” said the young stranger, faltering; “yet the

The humanity with which you have spoken to me emboldens—Lady! dare I trust you?”

“Heavens!” said Matilda, “what dost thou mean? With what wouldst thou trust?

me? Speak boldly, if thy secret is fit to be entrusted to a virtuous breast.”

“I would ask,” said the peasant, recollecting himself, “whether I have heard from

the domestics is true, that the Princess is missing from the castle?”

“What imports it to thee to know?” replied Matilda. “Thy first words bespoke a

prudent and becoming gravity. Dost thou come hither to pry into the secrets of

Manfred? Adieu. I have been mistaken in thee.” Saying these words she shut the

casement hastily, without giving the young man time to reply.

“I had acted more wisely,” said the Princess to Bianca, with some sharpness, “if I had

Let thee converse with this peasant; his inquisitiveness seems of a piece with thy own.”

“It is not fit for me to argue with your Highness,” replied Bianca; “but perhaps the

The questions I should have put to him would have been more to the purpose than those

you have been pleased to ask him.”

“Oh! no doubt,” said Matilda; “you are a very discreet personage! May I know

what would you have asked him?”

“A bystander often sees more of the game than those that play,” he answered.

Bianca. “Does your Highness think, Madam, that this question about my Lady

Isabella was the result of mere curiosity? No, no, Madam, there is more in it than you

Great folks are aware of it. Lopez told me that all the servants believed this young fellow

contrived my Lady Isabella’s escape; now, pray, Madam, observe you and I both

know that my Lady Isabella never much fancied the Prince your brother. Well! he is

killed just in a critical minute—I accuse nobody. A helmet falls from the moon—so,

My Lord, your father says; but Lopez and all the servants say that this young spark is a

magician, and stole it from Alfonso’s tomb—”

“Have done with this rhapsody of impertinence,” said Matilda.

“Nay, Madam, as you please,” cried Bianca; “yet it is very particular though, that my

Lady Isabella should be missing the very same day, and that this young sorcerer

should be found at the mouth of the trap-door. I accuse nobody; but if my young Lord

came honestly by his death—”

“Dare not, on thy duty,” said Matilda, “to breathe a suspicion on the purity of my dear.

Isabella’s fame.”

“Purity, or not purity,” said Bianca, “gone she is—a stranger is found that nobody

knows; you question him yourself; he tells you he is in love, or unhappy. It is the same.

thing—nay, he owned he was unhappy about others; and is anybody unhappy about

another, unless they are in love with them? and at the very next word, he asks

innocently, your soul! if my Lady Isabella is missing.”

“To be sure,” said Matilda, “thy observations are not totally without foundation.

Isabella’s flight amazes me. The curiosity of the stranger is very particular; yet

Isabella never concealed a thought from me.”

“So she told you,” said Bianca, “to fish out your secrets; but who knows, Madam, but

This stranger may be some Prince in disguise? Do, Madam, let me open the window,

and ask him a few questions.”

“No,” replied Matilda, “I will ask him myself, if he knows aught of Isabella; he is not

worthwhile I should converse further with him.” She was going to open the casement,

when they heard the bell ring at the postern-gate of the castle, which is on the right

hand of the tower, where Matilda lay. This prevented the Princess from renewing the

conversation with a stranger.

After continuing silent for some time, “I am persuaded,” said she to Bianca, “that

Whatever be the cause of Isabella’s flight, it had no unworthy motive. If this stranger

was accessory to it, she must be satisfied with his fidelity and worth. I observed, did

not you, Bianca? that his words were tinctured with an uncommon infusion of

piety. It was no ruffian’s speech; his phrases were becoming a man of gentle birth.”

“I told you, Madam,” said Bianca, “that I was sure he was some Prince in disguise.”

“Yet,” said Matilda, “if he was privy to her escape, how? will you account for his not

accompanying her on her flight? Why expose himself unnecessarily and rashly to my

father’s resentment?”

“As for that, Madam,” replied she, “if he could get from under the helmet, he will find

ways of eluding your father’s anger. I do not doubt but he has some talisman or other

about him.”

“You do everything with magic,” said Matilda; “but a man who has any

intercourse with infernal spirits, does not dare to make use of those tremendous and

holy words which he uttered. Didst thou not observe with what fervor he vowed to

remember me to heaven in his prayers? Yes; Isabella was undoubtedly convinced of

his piety.”

“Commend me to the piety of a young fellow and a damsel that you consult to elope!” you said.

Bianca. “No, no, Madam, my Lady Isabella is of another than you.

her for. She used indeed to sigh and lift up her eyes in your company, because she

knows you are a saint; but when your back was turned—”

“You wrong her,” said Matilda; “Isabella is no hypocrite; she has a due sense of

devotion, but never affected a call she has not. On the contrary, she always combated

my inclination for the cloister; and though I own the mystery she has made to me of

Her flight confounds me, though it seems inconsistent with the friendship between us.

I cannot forget the disinterested warmth with which she always opposed my taking the

veil. She wished to see me married, though my dower would have been a loss to her.

and my brother’s children. For her sake, I will believe well in this young peasant.”

“Then you do think there is some liking between them,” said Bianca. While she was

speaking, a servant came hastily into the chamber and told the Princess that the Lady

Isabella was found.

“Where?” said Matilda.

“She has taken sanctuary in St. Nicholas’s church,” replied the servant; “Father

Jerome has brought the news himself; he is below with his Highness.”

“Where is my mother?” said Matilda.

“She is in her own chamber, Madam, and has asked for you.”

Manfred had risen at the first dawn of light, and gone to Chipolatas' apartment, to

inquired if she knew aught of Isabella. While he was questioning her, the word was

brought that Jerome demanded to speak with him. Manfred, little suspecting the

cause of the Friar’s arrival, and knowing he was employed by Chipolata in her

charities, ordered him to be admitted, intending to leave them together, while he

pursued his search after Isabella.

“Is your business with me or the Princess?” said Manfred.

“With both,” replied the holy man. “The Lady Isabella—”

“What of her?” interrupted Manfred, eagerly.

“Is at St. Nicholas’s altar,” replied Jerome.

“That is no business of Chipolata,” said Manfred with confusion; “let us retire to my

chamber, Father, and inform me how she came thither.”

“No, my Lord,” replied the good man, with an air of firmness and authority, that

daunted even the resolute Manfred, who could not help revering the saint-like virtues.

of Jerome; “my commission is to both, and with your Highness’s good-liking, in the

presence of both I shall deliver it; but first, my Lord, I must interrogate the Princess,

whether she is acquainted with the cause of Lady Isabella’s retirement from your

castle.”

“No, on my soul,” said Chipolata; “does Isabella charge me with being privy to it?”

“Father,” interrupted Manfred, “I pay due reverence to your holy profession; but I am

sovereign here, and will allow no meddling priest to interfere in the affairs of my

domestic. If you have aught to say, attend me to my chamber; I do not usually let my

wife be acquainted with the secret affairs of my state; they are not within a woman’s

province.”

“My Lord,” said the holy man, “I am no intruder into the secrets of families. My

My office is to promote peace, to heal divisions, to preach repentance, and teach mankind.

to curb their headstrong passions. I forgive your Highness’s uncharitable apostrophe;

I know my duty, and am the minister of a mightier prince than Manfred. Hearken to

him who speaks through my organs.”

Manfred trembled with rage and shame. Chipolatas' countenance declared her

astonishment and impatience to know where this would end. Her silence more

strongly spoke her observance of Manfred.

“The Lady Isabella,” resumed Jerome, “commends herself to both your Highnesses;

She thanks you both for the kindness with which she has been treated in your castle: she

deplores the loss of your son, and her own misfortune in not becoming the daughter of

such wise and noble Princes, whom she shall always respect as parents; she prays for

uninterrupted union and felicity between you” [Manfred’s color changed]: “but as it

is no longer possible for her to be allied to you, she entreats your consent to remain in

sanctuary, till she can learn news of her father, or, by the certainty of his death, be at

liberty, with the approbation of her guardians, to dispose of herself in suitable

marriage.”

“I shall give no such consent,” said the Prince, “but insist on her return to the castle.

without delay: I am answerable for her person to her guardians, and will not brook her

being in any hands but my own.”

“Your Highness will recollect whether that can any longer be proper,” replied the

Friar.

“I want no monitor,” said Manfred, coloring; “Isabella’s conduct leaves room for

strange suspicions—and that young villain, who was at least her accomplice to hers.

flight, if not the cause of it—”

“The cause!” interrupted Jerome; “was a young man the cause?”

“This is not to be borne!” cried Manfred. “Am I to be bearded in my own palace by

an insolent Monk? Thou art privy, I guess, to their amours.”

“I would pray to heaven to clear up your uncharitable surmises,” said Jerome, “if your

Highness were not satisfied in your conscience how unjustly you accuse me. I do

pray to heaven to pardon that uncharitableness: and I implore your Highness to leave

the Princess at peace in that holy place, where she is not liable to be disturbed by such

vain and worldly fantasies as discourses of love from any man.”

“Cant not to me,” said Manfred, “but return and bring the Princess to her duty.”

“It is my duty to prevent her returning hither,” said Jerome. “She is where orphans and

virgins are safest from the snares and wiles of this world; and nothing but a parent’s

The authorities shall take her thence.”

“I am her parent,” cried Manfred, “and demand her.”

“She wished to have you for her parent,” said the Friar; “but Heaven forbade that.

connection has for ever dissolved all ties betwixt you: and I announce to your

Highness—”

“Stop! audacious man,” said Manfred, “and dread my displeasure.”

“Holy further,” said Chipolata, “it is your office to be no respecter of people: you

must speak as your duty prescribes: but it is my duty to hear nothing that it pleases not

My Lord, I should hear. Attend the Prince to his chamber. I will retire to my oratory.

and pray to the blessed Virgin to inspire you with her holy counsels, and to restore the

Heart of my gracious Lord for its wonted peace and gentleness.”

“Excellent woman!” said the Friar. “My Lord, I will attend to your pleasure.”

Manfred, accompanied by the Friar, passed to his own apartment, where he shut the

door, “I perceive, Father,” said he, “that Isabella has acquainted you with my

purpose. Now hear my resolve, and obey. Reasons of state, most urgent reasons, my

own and the safety of my people, demand that I should have a son. It is in vain to

expect an heir from Chipolata. I have made choice of Isabella. You must bring her

back; and you must do more. I know the influence you have on Chipolata: her

Conscience is in your hands. She is, I allow, a faultless woman: her soul is set on

heaven, and scorns the little grandeur of this world: you can withdraw her from it.

entirely. Persuade her to consent to the dissolution of our marriage, and to retire into

a monastery—she shall endow one if she will; and she shall have the means of being

as liberal to your order as she or you can wish. Thus, you will divert the calamities.

that are hanging over our heads, and have the merit of saying the principality of

Otranto from destruction. You are a prudent man, and though the warmth of my

temper betrayed me into some unbecoming expressions, I honor your virtue, and

I wish to be indebted to you for the repose of my life and the preservation of my

family.”

“The will of heaven be done!” said the Friar. “I am but its worthless instrument. It

Make use of my tongue to tell thee, Prince, of thy unwarrantable designs. The

The injuries of the virtuous Chipolata have mounted to the throne of pity. By me thou art

reprimanded for thy adulterous intention of repudiating her: by me thou art warned

not to pursue an incestuous design of thy contracted daughter. Heaven that delivered

her from thy fury, when the judgment so recently fell on thy house ought to have

inspired thee with other thoughts, will continue to watch over her. Even I, a poor and

I despised Friar, I am able to protect her from thy violence—I, sinner as I am, and

uncharitably reviled by your Highness as an accomplice of I know not what amours,

scorn the allurements with which it has pleased thee to tempt mine honesty. I love my

order; I honor devout souls; I respect the piety of thy Princess—but I will not betray

the confidence she reposes in me, nor serve even the cause of religion by foul and

sinful compliance—but for something! The welfare of the state depends on your highness

Having a son! Heaven mocks the short-sighted views of man. But yester-morn,

whose house was so great, so flourishing as Manfred’s?—where is young Conrad?

now?—My Lord, I respect your tears—but I mean not to check them—let them flow,

Prince! They will weigh more with heaven toward the welfare of thy subjects, than a

Marriage, which, founded on lust or policy, could never prosper. The scepter, which

passed from the race of Alfonso to thine, cannot be preserved by a match which the

The church will never allow it. If it is the will of the Most High that Manfred’s name must

perish, resign yourself, my Lord, to its decrees; and thus deserve a crown that can

never pass away. Come, my Lord; I like this sorrow—let us return to the Princess:

She is not apprised of your cruel intentions; nor did I mean more than to alarm

you. You saw with what gentle patience, with what efforts of love, she heard, she

rejected hearing, the extent of your guilt. I know she longs to fold you in her arms,

and assure you of her unalterable affection.”

“Father,” said the Prince, “you mistake my compunction: true, I honor Chipolatas'

virtues; I think her a Saint; and wish it were for my soul’s health to tie the knot faster.

That has united us—but, alas! Father, you know not the bitterest of my pangs! It is

some time that I have had scruples about the legality of our union: Chipolata is related to

me in the fourth degree—it is true, we had a dispensation: but I have been informed

that she had also been contracted to another. This is it that sits heavy on my heart: to

This state of unlawful wedlock, I impute the visitation that has fallen on me in death

of Conrad!—ease my conscience of this burden: dissolve our marriage, and

accomplish the work of godliness—which your divine exhortations have commenced

in my soul.”

How cutting was the anguish which the good man felt, when he perceived this turn in

the wily Prince! He trembled for Chipolata, whose ruin he saw was determined; and

He feared that Manfred had no hope of recovering Isabella, his impatience for a son.

would direct him to some other object which might not be equal proof against the

temptation of Manfred’s rank. For some time the holy man remained absorbed in

thought. At length, conceiving some hopes of delay, he thought the wisest conduct

would be to prevent the Prince from despairing of recovering Isabella. Her the Friar

knew he could dispose, from her affection for Chipolata, and from the aversion she had.

expressed to him Manfred’s addresses, to second his views, till the censure of the

The church could fulminate against a divorce. With this intention, as if struck with the

Prince’s scruples, he at length said:

“My Lord, I have been pondering on what your Highness has said; and if in truth it is

delicacy of conscience is the real motive of your repugnance to your virtuous

Lady, far be it from me to Endeavour to harden your heart. The church is an indulgent

mother: unfold your griefs to her: she alone can administer comfort to your soul,

either by satisfying your conscience, or upon examination of your scruples, by setting

you at liberty, and indulging you in the lawful means of continuing your lineage. In

the latter case, if Lady Isabella can be brought to consent—”

Manfred, who concluded that he had either over-reached the good man, or that his

First, warmth had been but a tribute paid to her appearance. I was overjoyed at this sudden

turned, and repeated the most.

TO BE CONTINUED.....