The Ceiling Man II
The Ceiling Man II
Secret Stories of the Vatican
1508
Rome, Italy
Perhaps it was because he was a supernatural being or that the plot just needed to move along, but shortly after the bats were slain, the sturdy chapel doors slammed against the marble walls and the silhouette of a sexy alpha male was revealed. As soon as I laid eyes on him, I knew he had it going on. He was handsome, he was responsible, he was punctual, and most importantly, he deserves a promotion! I’ve never seen such excellency embodied in a man quite like him. his skin glowed under the refractions of the chapel’s mosaics. His blood soaked robes robbed the interior of its color and his eyes glowed crimson red as the moon on an eerie night. It was like a work of art inside a single individual. I knew from that moment onwards I was in capable hands. After that, the dashing man and the stinky demoness that was holding me captive locked gazes and upon their encounter, they exchanged the most epic of dialogue.
“Oh? What do we have here? A little bat that’s left its cave? Well I suppose this chapel looks like a cave with the ceiling being so ugly and all so in that case… you’ve RETURNED to your cave! What brings you home, little bat?” she said with a threatening tone.
“I’m here to kick ass and buy clay figures, and I don’t see any clay figures” the man retorted.
“Ahhh, so not only does the Catholic Church like to steal ancient artifacts, but they like to steal movie quotes as well… there’s a special place in Hell for you lot”.
“Let go of the ceiling man. I won’t ask twice”.
“Now why would I do that? As a mat—”
The man let out a smirk and then at a blink of an eye, appeared in front of the demoness for a killing blow. He raised his arm up revealing sharp nails akin to teeth of a rampaging beast and slashed a perfect diagonal line across, from the shoulder-point of her clavicle to the end of her hip. Not only did he cut her off mid-sentence, but he had also cut the mid-section of her body.
“I warned you”, he said.
Although she was able to dodge, she had to let go of me in the process. The demoness quickly recovered into a defensive stance anticipating the next attack. Strangely enough, she kept her right hand behind her as if she was about to draw a blade, but there was nothing there. The vampire decided to attack her from the left side seeing his initial attack favoured more of that area of her body than the right. But the demoness knew he was going to do that and as he lunged for another attack at supersonic speed the vampire realized an error in his judgement. At the same breath, it’s as if time slowed down tenfold for the two combatants because in that small moment in which their eyes met, he saw a smirk born from her correct prediction and a face that she can only describe as one that discovered a horrible truth. She blocks his attack with her left hand and grabs it to keep him in place and while he was still suspended in the air, she revealed her right hand to him as it was glowing with energy and whispered,
“I am the serpent, the serpent who coils the world”.
In a split second, it transformed into a small black sphere then finally, into a spear. She strikes and the impact of the blade to his flesh carved out a wide hole in the vampire’s flank. With her hand still firmly gripping his arm, she hurled him towards the benches as if throwing a small skipping stone. Shortly after, clapping can be heard from the other row of pews.
“Bravo, lady. You defeated one of my clones. That was only one percent of my power”.
“If you think that your cheap tricks are enough to stop me you’re sorely mistaken”, she said with a determined look on her face.
The vampire scoffed at her and said, “Maybe you should take a good look at the ground”.
When she looked down she only saw her reflection. The demoness was standing in a pool of blood. She was confused, blinking as if something was supposed to change in the split second she couldn’t see. At first, she figured it was the blood of the clone but when she looked over at the body, there wasn’t anything coming from the hole she left. It was her blood. It was pouring out of the gash like a raging waterfall. She thought she had dodged the initial attack in time to at least avoid a mortal wound but in fact, he had lacerated her from the beginning. A horrible truth indeed. As it was still gushing out of her, she hunched over to close the wound and took a knee.
“But why… Why didn’t I feel it?”, the demoness said with a low voice, focusing on her breathing rather than anything else at the moment.
“They say when the body is exhilarated, it briefly nullifies the pain receptors to compensate for the shock it will or it just received. I guess you can say you were dying to fight me. MWUAHAHAHAHA. Laugh. That was funny”.
At that moment, the demoness fell to the floor and with all the energy she could muster said,
“That…. Was…. Shii…iiiit”.
Then her body disintegrated into dust and died.
Such a display of witty banter and top notch fighting skills. He accurately deduced that the fight was over the moment she let me go and instead, let her succumb to her injuries rather than expending more energy to fight himself. His salary must be huge! But it must grow larger! Speaking of growing larger, every time I think about him something grows large in my pants as we—
“Ok that’s enough”, one shadow said.
The painter was actually being held for inquiry at the same spot the battle took place by two members of the Church after the attempted capture. Their forms were obscured by light shining down on the chapel windows and the rays created a soft radiance that outlined their shapes. Although their figures were human, the painter thought they were closer resembling that of divine beings. What’s more is that at the same moment, he could’ve sworn he saw large tendril-like appendages from one of the shadows. But he dismissed it without a second thought as a trick of the eye from the light and a worn-down mental state. As they pulled back from the painter, their figures became visible once more. It was a woman and a man. The woman, who was wearing the same blood-red garments as Beret, stared at the painter with great suspicion while the man, a much older looking gentleman in a white cassock, was busy surveying the room.
