Chapter 4: Lucius Barrington

“I told you, Grace. Don’t be frightened, but you were possessed by a demon a very long time ago. It is now predestined. You will be the Mother of Evil…”

Grace’s eyes went wide and her skin turned white. She took an apprehensive step back. It looked like Barrington had slithered his way completely under her skin. The whole conversation was like the dialogue out of a badly written horror movie, but it agitated her nonetheless. It seemed as if our operation was on the verge of collapse.

“Come on Grace; let’s go check out the church. Why not? It’ll be fun, like Halloween,” I said with a smile.

Grace seemed completely transfixed under Barrington’s hypnotic gaze.

“I… I don’t know…” Grace said.

Mr. Jefferson stepped forward. I could see the look of concern in his eyes.

“Excuse me Mr. Barrington. While you’ve been talking to Grace, we’ve kept your private room open for the last 30 minutes. You’ll need to proceed there now, or I’ll have to assign the time slot to the next patron. There are several people here who I know are anxious to hear you speak.”

“Yes of course, Mr. Jefferson. I’m sorry for the delay. I was distracted by your charming submissive. Lead the way…” Barrington said.

There was a small stage with a chair set up in the middle of the room. Barrington sat down, as if upon a throne. His two sycophants stood obediently at his side. A small crowd of curious patrons were assembled. Barrington began his strange sermon.

“Good Evening Ladies and Gentleman. First may I say, Happy Thanksgiving, if you do in fact celebrate it. I don’t mean to start things out on a sour note, but I never quite understood the whole turkey day thing. It is a rather gruesome holiday you must admit, giving thanks for the near extinction of the Native American Indian by smallpox while we stuff our faces with the flesh of a massacred bird. I think it ranks a close second to the crucifixion of Jesus as the vilest of Christian holidays, but enough of my opinions.”

Barrington stood up from his chair and appeared much taller on the raised platform. He proudly raised his chin.

“If you don’t know me or those who came before, you will soon. My name is Lucius Barrington, a Warlock and High Priest of the Worldwide Church of Satan. I hold meetings of the occult every Friday evening at midnight at my temple, The Church of the Anti-Christ. All are welcome to attend. These are my two witches, who serve my needs. Their names are unimportant. If you plan on attending midnight mass this evening, ask either of them and they will give you the location of our sanctuary and answer any questions you might have about our cult. Our host here at Obsessions, Mr. Jefferson, has kindly donated this room for us to congregate this evening. Thank you, Mr. Jefferson.”

Mr. Jefferson nodded stiffly.

“Whenever people see me or hear the name of my church they usually ask in dismay, “Are you the Anti-Christ?” The spiritual world holds its secrets my friends, but I will tell you this. I am not the one chosen to rule the world for the next 1000 years. However… the demon’s seed is within me. I am descended from the great archangel Lucifer, one of the Fallen Angels of Old, whom God will wage a spiritual battle with at Armageddon, in the End of Times.”

A few patrons immediately left the room. Barrington surveyed the small dwindling crowd.

“Many of you chose not to listen. So be it. I realize you may not like me or find my appearance distasteful. You may not like the way I look or the words you hear, but it doesn’t mean what I say is not true. Though I am an outcast in your world I too have a role to play in God’s eternal plan. But there is one among you tonight, with us in this room right now who will play the most important role. And I am here to tell you Our Father in Hell holds you in high esteem, my dear,” Barrington said, showing his forked tongue and glaring wickedly at Grace.

I really had no idea who Barrington was or thought he was and I really didn’t care. He seemed like your typical run of the mill psycho to me, swept away like most men in a position of power by their own grandiosity, but in the end a rather innocuous individual. I was certain of two things, however. He was cruel and he was a real asshole. It was obvious he knew Grace was in a vulnerable state of mind and he seemed to like mentally tormenting her for his own amusement. Whatever happens, the guy deserves what’s coming to him, in my opinion.

He paused in his long speech as one of the witches handed him his drink. He took a sip and handed it back to the drug-addled woman, who bowed before him before resuming her place at his side.

“Listen to me, those who have ears to hear. Though I am no longer held among the most favored in Heaven, my kind was once seated in honor at God’s Right Hand. As the apocryphal texts reveal, some of my ancestors were tempted by the great beauty of the Daughters of Men and did not keep to their proper dwelling in Heaven. They lusted after these women and defiled themselves with them. From these unholy unions giants were born, called Nephilim, who roamed the Earth before the Great Flood, devouring the flesh of man. So angry was God at His rebellious angels that He banished them from Heaven, casting them into a deep pit in the Earth, chained into the abyss. As the Book of Revelations predicts, on the Day of Judgment, when God commands his angel to sound the Fifth Trumpet, the abyss will open and the fallen angels will be released from their captivity to torment those without God’s seal… Ladies and Gentlemen, the time has come. The Day of Judgment is at hand.”

Zardooz rolled his eyes at me and I had to stop myself from laughing. What a load of self-righteous horseshit! The Warlock was so into his speech he didn’t notice everyone had gotten so bored with the sermon they had wandered off to another section of the club. Lucius Barrington was apparently even too weird for the eccentric patrons of a sex club. No one other than us had remained to listen to his crazy banter. He kept droning on for several more minutes until I thought I was back at the Mosque my Mother and Father always dragged me to as a child, listening to the pompous Imam’s endless and incoherent lectures on the Qur’an.

For most of his sermon Barrington stared in his creepy manner at Grace, who sat absolutely still next to Mr. Jefferson, her hands folded in her lap and eyes cast down to the floor. She looked paralyzed with fear under Barrington’s spell. Her face was pale as if drained of blood. She seemed to be taking Barrington’s sermon far too seriously. I was worried about her.

“Do you believe this guy Grace? Anti-Christ, End Times, demons, giants. That’s some Loony Toons shit, right?” I whispered in her ear.

She looked in my eyes like a lost angel.

“No, it’s true. The Pastor at First Assembly preached about it every Sunday,” she said quietly.

“What? Grace, did your parents take you to a Fundamentalist church growing up?” I asked.

Grace nodded.

“Well, it’s all nonsense. None of it is true.”

Grace shook her head slowly.

“The abyss, the Fifth Trumpet, the Day of Judgment. It’s all in the Bible…” she uttered, as if under a spell.

Grace looked back down at the ground. Our plan was going nowhere so I decided to take the initiative. When Barrington appeared to be finished with his sermon, I stood up and approached the altar. I bowed down close to him showing plenty of cleavage, looked up into his eyes and whispered.

“I know it’s not me you want, Lucius. It’s Grace, isn’t it? I noticed how you were looking at her. I don’t blame you if you’re obsessed with her, she’s so attractive. You’re not the only one who likes her, obviously. So here’s what I’ll do for you. I’ve always been turned on by black magic and demons. So has my Dominant. If you take me back to your temple tonight and convert me into one of your witches, I promise I’ll get Grace to come along with me to your church next Friday and you’ll have your chance to win her over. Deal?”

Barrington put his finger to his lips and tapped on them.

“Hmmm. Tell me Deborah. I’m curious. What did you just say to Grace Madsen? I saw you whispering something to her,” Barrington asked.

“Oh. I just asked if she believed what you were saying about the Anti-Christ and the End Times,” I said.

“And what pray tell did your friend say in response?”

“She said she believed every word of your sermon.”

“I see. Well, Grace always was a rather impressionable girl… Perhaps I will take you up on your kind offer, Deborah. My church is an extension of my family and I’d like nothing more than for you to join my coven tonight.”

“Thank you Mr. Barrington. I’m so excited,” I said.

“Is that your Dominant?” Barrington asked, gesturing to Zardooz.

“It is. I call him Master Z,” I said.

“Master Z? Please approach the altar,” Barrington said.

“Certainly,” Zardooz said, coming forward.

“Deborah has just confessed of her wish to be initiated into the First Degree of Contemporary Witchcraft. I must ask your permission to take your submissive within the Circle of Power at my temple this evening and give her the five-fold kiss, the forty strokes of the scourge and the oath of secrecy.”

“You have my permission,” Zardooz said with a complete seriousness.

“Then shall I give you a ride to my temple? My limo is waiting right outside the club. I’d like to invite all of you to ride over as my guests for this evening,” Barrington pronounced.

“A limo? How nice. Is that OK Master Z?” I asked.

“Sure, we’d love to come,” Zardooz said.

“Under one condition, however,” Barrington said. “I will be glad to take you to my temple and allow you to join my coven Deborah, but only if Grace agrees to attend your initiation ritual. Would you be so kind to accompany us to witness the ceremony of your friend this evening, my wayward little angel? It would be my honor and the honor of my entire congregation to have you in attendance…”

We all waited a moment for her response. Finally Grace nodded and Jefferson helped her to her feet. We put on our winter coats. Grace appeared limp in Jefferson’s arms as the group left the club together.

We climbed into the back of a black stretch limo. Barrington sat on a plush leather seat between his two witches while Jefferson, Grace, Zardooz and I sat directly opposite. My Handler must have gone ahead separately to run the operation. Barrington continued to direct his creepy gaze at Grace.

“Is everyone warm and cozy,” Barrington asked.

“Yes, My Lord,” I said, unbuttoning my coat and revealing my cleavage. “Very cozy…”

I tried every female trick in the book to get Barrington’s perverted eyes away from poor Grace, but nothing worked. He was obviously smitten with her.

“I’m so happy you decided to join us Grace. I hope you find my church as spiritually uplifting as First Assembly of God.”

“I don’t go attend that church anymore,” Grace said.

“Apparently not. Of course, neither do I,” Barrington responded, leaning toward her with a wicked grin.

A long silence followed. Barrington sat back in his seat.

“Am I… frightening you, Grace? I am, aren’t I? I really don’t mean to make you afraid of me. Quite the opposite. I wish you would feel relaxed and look at me occasionally. Can’t you look me in the eyes, just once, Ms. Madsen?”

Grace slowly looked up at Barrington with terror in her eyes.

“See, that’s not so hard, is it?” he said.

Suddenly, Barrington slapped his hands together which made Grace flinch.

“Where are my manners? My deepest apologies to one and all. Would anyone like a drink from the minibar? My witches will fix you a cocktail. They make a mean martini, with or without a garnishment. Would you like a cocktail, Grace?”

She shook her head no.

“Oh yes, I’ve quite forgotten. In the purity of your Christian soul, your lips refuse to touch alcohol, though they apparently don’t mind coming in contact with… other forbidden areas,” Barrington said, winking at Jefferson.

The Dom stiffened his jaw.

“I wouldn’t mind a drink, My Lord,” I said.

Completely ignoring me, Barrington took out a small mirror hidden under the seat. On it was a small bag of white powder, a straw cut in half and a razor blade. Bring out the illegal drugs. Good job Lucius.

“Would you like to snort a line of coke with the coven, Grace?” Barrington asked.

Grace shook her head no.

“Well, even though you don’t wish to indulge, I must feed my witches or they are sure to become cranky. And believe me, you don’t want to be around a cranky witch,” he replied with a chuckle.

Barrington divided the powder into two lines with the razor blade.

“There you go. Dinnertime, my pets…”

The two women took turns snorting their lines and frantically rubbing the remainder of the powder on their gums with their fingertips. I’d seen addicts shooting up or snorting coke, but even so, the way the two emaciated women attacked the powder was rather grotesque. Barrington placed the mirror back under the seat and leaned in closer to Grace.

“If you ever want anything from me Grace, anything, please don’t hesitate to ask. Whatever blessings I’ve been given, all my worldly possessions, I wish to share with you. Everything I own Grace, is yours. You don’t know it yet, but we’re family, you and I…”

Our operation wasn’t going well, to say the least. Grace had a look of sheer terror in her eyes and Jefferson looked like he wanted to reach across the limo and twist Barrington’s head right off his shoulders. I tried to calm the situation by leaning in and whispering into Grace’s ear so only she could hear.

“What a wacko, right? Do you believe this shit?”

Grace glanced at me and tried her best to smile.

“Would you care to share with us what secrets you just whispered into the ear of our pretty friend, Deborah?” Barrington said.

“I just told Grace I thought your limo was cool. I’ve never ridden in a limo before, Sire,” I said.

Barrington nodded. We rode the rest of the way in silence, except for the occasional sniffling of the two women. The limo finally pulled to a stop in front of what looked like an underground theater or comedy club. A small eclectic crowd of shady characters milled around outside the building, smoking and talking.

“Welcome to the Church of the Anti-Christ. I rent out the entire building as office space, but the basement floor is my hidden enclave where the meetings of the occult are held, where our magical circles are formed. Sisters, please open the front doors of the temple and let in the worshippers. Then prepare yourselves for the service. I will take care of our friends here. There is a secret entrance, reserved only for the High Priest, his Queen and her honored guests. Please follow me everyone.”

Barrington got out of the limo with his two witches. The witches went down a flight of steps and unlocked and opened the front doors. The crowd filed in. Some men in suits got out of cars and started walking toward the building. Two unmarked police cars were also parked close by in the shadows. Everything was set up for the bust.

Barrington waited near a stairway on the side of the building, several feet away. Grace seemed to have difficulty getting out of the car and Jefferson held her close to him. She looked pale and unsteady on her feet.

“This way everyone,” Barrington said, waving at us like a helpful, though demented looking crossing guard.

We followed Barrington around the side of the building toward his “secret entrance”. I walked beside Grace and put my arm around her waist.

“Grace is such a pretty name,” I said.

She didn’t respond.

“Look, I know you’re upset and afraid, but all this crazy shit will be over in a few minutes and we’ll have a big laugh about this guy later. Plus, we have plenty of backup. See those men walking toward the building? Those are undercover CIA agents. The two cars parked across the street are unmarked police vehicles. No matter what happens in there, remember you’re helping us get this guy off the street so he doesn’t harm any other women. Look at me Grace. Are you going to be OK?” I asked.

“I’m OK, Agent Milani.”

“It’s Brittany. Are you sure?”

“I’m just a little dizzy, Brittany. That’s all.”

“Just take a few deep breaths. You’ll be fine, I promise. You’re taking the ravings of this lunatic too seriously.”

“I know. I don’t know why he scares me so.”

“There are no demons, Grace. This guy’s a joke. He’s just trying to get into your pants, like everyone else. Just relax and play along. It’ll be a piece of cake.”

She took a deep breath and looked a little calmer.

“OK…” Grace said.

We caught up to Barrington and he held the side door open for us. We entered the building and went into a dark room. I held Grace’s hand. Barrington flicked on a lighter and lit some candles. The two witches were illuminated in the shadows, wearing long flowing black skirts and no top to cover their breasts. They walked around the room, lighting candles. There was a table in the center of the room with robes neatly folded upon it and some glass votive candles.

“Mr. Jefferson and Master Z, please follow me,” Barrington said. “For the ceremony, you will each be required to wear these black hooded robes and hold a glass candle between your hands. Grace, you will not wear a robe or be required to hold a candle.”

The men put the robes on in the shadows.

“We will go in and join the others now. Sisters, you may prepare Deborah for her initiation ceremony and come directly in when she’s ready. Please follow me everyone,” Barrington said.

Around Barrington’s waist, I noticed a curious curved knife with a black hilt latched into his belt. They walked out as a group, like extras on the set of some B-grade horror movie. I continued to worry about Grace. Then the two witches approached me. With stern faces they unbuttoned my white blouse and removed my skirt and panties. After I slipped out of my heels, the two women twisted my wrists behind my back and placed them tightly together in handcuffs. With one witch holding each arm, they escorted me completely naked and bound out of the shadowy room. It was show time, I assumed.

We walked into an open space where the crowd gathered in a large circle, each person holding a candle. At first I was nervous about whether the hidden surveillance equipment would be able to capture images of the ceremony in the dimly lit room, but thanks to the ego of our host, Barrington stood illuminated in the center of the circle, lit from above by a bright spotlight. The freak seemed to like being the center of attention. Perhaps deep down our demon always wanted to be a theater actor, but never got the chance.

The chain of bodies opened to allow us into the circle. I saw a small table in the middle and a whip with leather tassels upon it. Grace stood apart inside the circle, across from Barrington. I winked at her and she gave me a brave smile, but I could see she was frightened. Even though my naked flesh was completely exposed to the crowd, I was surprised not to pick up a sexual feeling in the room, other than from Zardooz, who couldn’t help but devour me with his big Persian eyes. The witches placed me at the left side of Barrington and the High Priest delivered his introduction in a surprisingly chipper voice.

“Are we all assembled? Wonderful. Master Z, please feel free to join us in the middle of the Circle of Power. I may need your assistance in the ceremony.”

Zardooz nodded and walked into the middle of the circle a few feet away from me. I was happy to have my new partner close by, even if was ogling me. Barrington continued to stare at Grace in his diabolical manner.

“Thank you, Master Z. Good Evening, Ladies and Gentlemen and welcome to our mass. Let me begin by saying the practice of contemporary witchcraft and devil worship is perhaps the most misunderstood and reviled of all religions in the world today. Thanks to the misinformation about us in the media, people come here expecting to see me drinking the blood of virgins out of a human baby’s skull. I assure you my friends, this image of us could not be further from the truth. Though we do summon demonic power and magic for good and ill, we also mean to call upon angels to come to us in human form and join us in the Inner Circle, such as our new friends here. Now, before we begin the initiation of our lovely Deborah, whom you see standing before us, chained and naked as the day she was born, I wonder, good people of the occult, do you have any idea who else of significance stands before us today?... No? I shall explain. The prophecies foretold in the Book of Revelations are coming to fruition on this very date right before our astonished eyes. Though she doesn’t yet realize it, this comely young woman that stands before us in the center of the circle… is none other than our future Witch Queen, from whose womb will be born the Son of Satan, the Anti-Christ, who will rule the Earth for the next 1000 years! Bow to Grace Madsen, the Mother of the Evil One and Daughter of Satan.”