The Church of Asmodeus

From the time I was a young boy in Greece, I'd heard about the gold treasure of Scythia. Those chosen to guard it stole it and fled to a distant world. According to legend, once a year, several days before All Hallow's Eve - for a few hours only - a sign appears, a road, and an ancient church where the gold can be found. This is the only time and place it is possible to locate the greatest treasure ever amassed in one place.

The rest of the year it is frozen in the Nether Regions of that other world.

The gold is so well protected that only one man has ever entertained the idea of trying to find and recover it. However, the treasure eluded him. During my journeys, following the legends and the ancient writings to learn more about the treasure, I met this remarkable man at a monastery in Tibet where he lay dying.

I told him how much I admired him and assured him I intended to seek the treasure also.

He removed a unique ring from his finger and gave it to me. He explained that the ring had been formed in the time of the birth of the Arabian Desert, and that it had a magic with which the powerful Phoenix could be summoned forth. The ring, he said, was the only thing that could save me if I found the gold and came face to face with the demons who protect it.

Over the years, I became an expert in Mythology, hoping to trace the fabled horde. After studying cryptic symbols on an ancient scroll discovered at a monastery on Mount Athos, my research brought me here to this little town. Near here is where I expect to find that legendary Scythian treasure.

I continually checked the charts until I was sure I was in the right place and certain that the right time had come. I drove south out of town on an old bypass road seldom traveled.

I came to a narrow stretch of broken pavement that was suddenly thrown into deep shadow, even though the sun was bright. An oppressive heaviness and a soft frightful keening came from the very trees and foliage.

Slowing the car, I carefully studied the side of the road. And there it was! An almost hidden weather-beaten sign, gray with age, pointing to a turn-off overgrown with briars and hedges. The faded letters, difficult to read, formed the words: Church of Asmodeus 2 mi.

I reached for the city map to see what lay beyond the turn off, and was not too surprised to discover that the map did not show the area at all. It showed a dead-end and a bayou. According to the map, I was in the bayou.

A sudden explosion of blistering heat burst upon my car. Although the interior was not scorched and I wasn't burned, the smell of hot metal hung in the stifling air all around me. My heart plummeted, and I knew I was indeed on the right track.

I followed the sign's direction and entered a densely wooded area. As I drove deeper into the darkening copse, my apprehension grew and my enthusiasm waned. A sudden chill hit me, and I thought about turning back, but I was horrified to discover there was no longer a road behind me and no place to turn around.

Darkness rapidly descended, casting the area into deep gloom, and fear hit the pit of my stomach like a fist of iron. The trees thinned. I came to a drop-off of jagged stones that descended into a clearing surrounded by rock walls on all sides.

I got out of the car and tried to ignore the eerie whispering and wailing that rose and fell, settling a knot in my throat and sucking the breath from my lungs.

My feet somehow carried me to the edge of the rock ledge. I looked down and saw - straight out of a horror movie - an ancient church immersed in a strange yellow mist. Bats flew about the belfry, and an unkempt graveyard behind it revealed leaning and toppled gravestones.

Tackling the stone cliff, I couldn't shake the feeling I was descending into the pit of Hell. The feeling intensified when a dank sulfurous odor, intermingling with that of rot and decay, caused my already queasy stomach to churn.

The night sounds suddenly ceased as though the world held its breath, and I shuddered. My knees grew so weak I could barely hold my weight off the sharp stones that sprouted from the earth. I clung desperately until deep breathing restored a bit of my self-control. Yet, stronger than my fear was the lure of the gold treasure urging me on.

I completed the painful descent and approached the church that seemed to shimmer in the pale ghostly light. The weird yellow mist floated to the back of the building and hovered over the ancient graves.

I tore my fascinated gaze from the eerie sight and crept hesitantly through the door and into the church. My eyes became accustomed to the dim light after a few moments, and I saw a multitude of candles burning in iron holders. But the faint illumination they cast could not overpower the darkness.

I grew hot, then cold, and my head swirled. My strength seemed to flow out of me, and I became overwhelmed with waves of darkness.

I'm not sure what happened next. I must have passed out. When I became alert again I found myself helplessly bound to the altar rails. Alarmed, I was aware I had pursued something beyond human comprehension, something best left alone.

My frantic gaze swept over the ill-lit interior. Behind the altar an immense sculpture, aglow with candlelight, captured my terrified attention and held it. Frightening stone images stood in awesome gray silence, their sightless eyes intimidating and chilling.

The alarming figures suddenly sprang to life, and I prayed I was delusional. In the center stood a creature so incredible as to defy even my most horrendous of nightmares. I recognized it as the Griffin who had been ordained to guard the treasure.

Even as I tried to convince myself this couldn't be real, the beast - three times the size of a normal man - glared at me with eyes glowing like live red coals. Ten black-hooded, black-robed figures crowded around him. It was only then I noticed the fabulous wall of gold and the now brilliant gemstones glinting like cold stars in the blackness of the church interior.

The hooded figures knelt before the creature and intoned mystic words in a demonic tongue. Wings outspread, it responded with a man's voice, and I understood its words.

"Burn incense to me," the thing said, "and honor me with the heart of this mortal. On the night of All Hallow's Eve, our vultures and crows will seek those who belong to the Master and will bring them to me for initiation. All others caught out that night shall be put under a spell and bled. Their blood will sustain me another year. The only warning allowed those mortals shall be a rustling of wind, and a flutter of invisible wings. But no one will take heed. No one ever takes heed. They will be out laughing, scaring themselves and one another, and looking for treats. Little do they know they shall become the treats."

The monster's eyes studied me as though I were an insect pinned to a card. The thing moved toward me and I struggled to bring my hands together so I could reach the ring. I jerked my wrist so hard it bled, but I finally managed to touch the ring of gold, set with its magic bloodstone, to invoke the death defying Phoenix to save me, as the legend said it had the power to do.

I rubbed the stone of the ring until my fingertips tingled, and watched, mesmerized, as a thin green vaporous smoke curled up from the precious dark red stone. Opening my mouth to speak the sacred words, horror struck me. My mind had gone blank! I could not remember the magic words!

I struggled to control my panic, searching the darkness of my mind. "Think!" I silently screamed. "Think quickly or die!"

The horrid creature panted toward me, its fangs dripping death, and the words sprang to my mind. Ignoring the sweat beading on my forehead, I rubbed the ring a second time. Even as the hot breath of the Griffin blew over me and his claws reached for me, I shouted the sacred words. "Atli Cosmos, Atli Phorendi."

No sound came from my stiff lips and I collapsed back against the altar rails expecting to die at any moment, but the green smoky vapor exploded and shot to the wall, enveloping it.

To my everlasting gratitude and relief, the gold wall behind the altar broke open with a thunderous crash. A gigantic Phoenix rose from the ashes and flames within the crevice, flames that burned but did not devour.

The Griffin and black-robed priests growled and roared, swearing great blasphemous curses, but could not withstand the power of the Phoenix that turned them once again to stone and hid the wall of gold for another century.

In a booming, echoing voice that froze my blood, the Phoenix bellowed, "Foolish Mortal! Leave this world and do not look back! Even my power cannot long hold these demons from you."

He raised his great head. His eyes glittered in my direction, and my bonds burst free. I fled, stumbling, falling, crawling, praying. I cannot recall how I got back to my car, how the car got back on the road, or how I made it home. All I know is I'm no longer interested in the treasure.

I thought I must have lost my mind entirely, or dreamed the whole thing. I retraced my path the next day and was relieved I couldn't find the cutoff. I wonder if it ever existed. It must have, I'm still wearing the ring, and it's still pulsating with the green radiance. I'm aware, deep inside, that the ring saved my life, if not my sanity.

I've told no one what happened. Who would believe it? But I can't forget the hidden danger that awaits the masked and costumed revelers on That night.

So, I'm telling you now. If, in the darkness of Halloween night, you hear a high-moaning wind and a flutter, you'd better run like you've never run before. Or better yet, stay inside with the doors and windows shut and locked.

The blood gatherers will be out that night in great numbers.

© 2004 Margery Casares