Mad Gods - Predatory Ethics: Book I (14 page)

“Please, let me go! Let me go!” Rosanna wanted to be
as far away from the house and the cursed child as possible.

“What’s the matter? Is that little monster after you?
Huh?” Paula could see Rosanna was in hysterics and thought that the little
monster had finally gotten to her.

“No! No! I can’t stand it any longer. He’s barely six
months old and he just got up and started walking, as though he had been doing
it his whole life.” Her words were almost incomprehensible and she looked
defeated and downcast as she gasped fearfully.

“I knew it! I knew that boy was cursed. I knew it!”
Paula had been waiting for a chance like this for months. She was waiting for
an opportunity to do God’s work.

“He’s only six months, yet he looks like he’s two
years old.” Suddenly, this old woman looked like the only salvation for which
Rosanna could hope.

“Six months? Who told you he was six months old?
Jose?” The poor little girl. She was in the pit with vipers and a husband who
lied to her about his demon son.

“When we first got married, and he was crawling, he
said the child was three months old.” She was puzzled; the old woman seemed to
be asking such strange questions. What could his age have to do with anything?

“That little devil was crawling when he was but one
week old?” Paula crossed herself and said a silent prayer.

“A week? What are you talking about? He was three
months old when we got married, which was more than two months ago.” This
simply could not be possible.

“Child, Jose’s son was born in February. He killed
his mother at birth. I know, because I was at the delivery.” She realized that
she would have to act as the hand of God. This was a grave responsibility, but
the other saints had not shrunk from their destiny.

“He’s barely three months old and he walks?” Rosanna
felt faint and leaned on Paula for support.

“When he was born, I told them that he was cursed! I
told them!” Paula held the quivering girl and felt a peculiar satisfaction. She
had always known she was destined for greatness.

“And the way he looks at you… it’s as though he knows
what you’re thinking. It’s not natural.” This old woman knew. She would help
her. What had she gotten herself into? She held onto Paula like a drowning
woman. She could not go back to her aunts; they hadn’t even come to the
wedding. Rosanna was alone.

“He should have been exposed when he was born, before
his father knew.” Paula’s life was dull and monotonous. She craved recognition
— globally and religiously. As a child, when Paula sat in church, she had
always pictured herself in the throes of agony for her faith. Her parents would
see. Everyone, whoever made fun of her, would see.

“All along, Jose knew the truth, yet he married me to
look after his demon-spawned son.” Could she even trust her husband anymore?
Had she ever been able to? It must be the boy. He must hold his father captive.

“Child, now that you know the truth, what will you
do?” Paula determined to help this poor unfortunate. She would battle the evil
in Sao Paolo. God had chosen her to take up His standard. Paula’s husband and
children wouldn’t laugh at her anymore. They would all look up to her when they
saw her as the saint that she was.

“I don’t know. What should I do?” Yes, the son was
making the father do his bidding. He needed a mother and Jose had gone out and
gotten one for him. He had known that Rosanna would never have agreed to the
arrangement had she known the truth, so he made Jose lie. He had endeared
himself to her, acting all cute and darling. Oh, why hadn’t she listened to her
aunts? They had known. He probably silenced them too. One look from him and
they both had fallen silent.

“Put your faith in God, child. Go to the new church
and ask for the new priest from America, Padre Pewter. He will help you.”
Everyone would look up to her. She would be respected. This girl’s agony would
be Paula’s salvation.

“A priest! Yes! Thank you, Senora! Thank you!”

Rosanna turned to leave. She intended to visit the
church, but for some reason, stopped and returned to her home, where she found
Nino, asleep in his crib. Fearfully, she approached him, wondering how he had
managed to climb back into the crib. Was he also able to fly?

She glanced at the pillow and wondered how easy it
would be to just smother him and be done with it. For an instant, she glanced
away from Nino and reached out, knowing that Jose would never suspect the cause
of death. As she moved to pick up the pillow, she saw the creature staring at
her and lost her nerve.

The Darkness within him had sensed her murderous
intent. Her black thoughts alerted and touched his own. It prompted a palpable
wave of malice and made her drop the pillow.

She stood transfixed. Until now, Rosanna’s fears had
been based on imagination, no matter how it was fueled. This defense proved
they were fact. The looks and abnormally quick development could be
rationalized, especially if she lived with them. Now she realized the cause of
all her anxieties and fears. This broke her trance and she bolted away, leaving
the baby — and the dual presences which defined him — to look after
her. This was the second time she abandoned him and the emptiness had became
familiar. If a person starts early enough, he can get used to anything.

John Haggios saw Rosanna run out of the house for the
second time that day. This time, he hoped that she would continue until she could
no longer see the house. His heart soared when he saw that she kept running.

Crossing the street, he entered the house and stood
over the baby, who looked up and stared. Excitement kept him from instantly
reaching down and taking him into his arms. He was looking down at his Savior,
his God. The Darkness within the boy recognized a kin.

Haggios was so focused on the boy, and finally being
so close, that he didn’t feel the corded forearm wrap about his neck until it
was too late. His last conscious sensation was of a hand, closing around his
head, then the snap of his neck.

He was raised off of the floor to lessen the
struggle. The owner of the corded forearms did not let him fall. He handled him
like a sack, tossing him onto a shoulder. He crossed the floor and stepped
through the open door. It was as though he had never been there.

When Rosanna returned to the house, she knew that she
could not approach Nino by herself. As before, she looked after his needs, but
only when Jose was with her. When she was alone, she would place food in front
of him and back away. When he first fed himself without instruction, she nearly
bolted for the door again. As time went on, she remained as distant as she
could. It was rare that she ever came close enough that she could brush him
with her hand.

Later in his life, one of the boy’s friends told him
a story about a dog that was always chained in a yard. He was only fed from a
distance and never felt human contact. He didn’t live long, but his short life
was filled with anxiety. If someone came near him, the thought of a touch would
make him start barking nervously. In fact, he barked so much that he frightened
everyone away.

Nino’s situation was similar — a viciously
cyclical pattern. The longer Rosanna stayed away from him, the more agitated he
became. He simply couldn’t help it; he craved human contact. She watched him
closely for signs of evil, while he watched her closely for signs of contact.
His gaze became so intent that she would look away, more fearful than ever.
Finally, the craving for affection subsided into a chasm, whose bottom nobody
saw.

Rosanna decided that she should tell Jose about the
unnaturally quick growth and development. She knew that he had serious fears
about his son, and wanted to bring those insecurities to the surface. She was
going to save Jose from his damned son.

Finally, he saw the unnatural, instant understanding
behind the baby’s eyes and the way he quickly grasped anything that was placed
in front of him. Maria would’ve seen it from the beginning, Rosanna told him.
Jose should do something about the evil within his son. It was this evil that
had killed Maria.

The days turned to weeks and then to months. Slowly,
Rosanna pushed the fear to recognition, understanding, and finally, belief.
Jose did not need much prompting; he wanted to give in to his fears. Rosanna
gladly gave him good reason.

After eight weeks of distancing father from son,
Rosanna made her husband agree to come with her and seek spiritual guidance.
They left him alone, at less than six months old. They decided that since he
was so self-reliant, a few hours by himself was not going to kill him.

When someone simply refuses to do something,
rationalization is the best, and most interchangeable, of excuses. Nino’s
current parents wanted nothing to do with him, but could not turn him out.
Their morals were too ingrained. Whatever else they felt when they were with
him, however real it was it could always be pushed aside with the reality that
he was still an infant.

What could a baby do? Even one who was cursed? What
could a baby do?

- Faith: Father Figure -

They left Nino alone and walked to their salvation.
They went to a vehicle that could carry them away: to a church that would only
increase the distance from their son. As they entered the front double doors of
the church a small, bent man approached them with a cloying smile and took
Rosanna’s hand.

“Yes, how may I help you?” The little man seemed to
be ready to break under his own weight. His eyes shone with the fanatical zeal
that kept him upright. His frailty was not to be believed; he would continue
living until he decided to die.

“Are you Padre Pewter?” At once, Rosanna was taken
aback by this man’s fervor, yet drawn to it. She hoped to find the same power
for herself.

“Oh no, the father of this parish will be here
shortly. Until then, can I be of service?” The eyes continued to hold her
entranced.

“May we wait for him here and pray, Senor?” Jose
asked.

“Yes, yes of course, please come, and be closer to
God.” The old man finally glanced away from Rosanna as he answered. He then
turned away from the couple and gestured toward the front of the pews. He left
the Savourez’s alone and passed a man who was deep in prayer.

The praying man, unnoticed, looked up at the couple.
The face was slim and clean-shaven. Patient eyes watched and waited for a
proper time. Behind him, the pastor was changing the half-burned candles on the
layered candelabras. He looked at the man and continued with his work.

The candelabras were placed on either side of two
icons, depicting the final station of the cross and Christ’s subsequent
ascension. They did not invite the worshiper to be soothed by their devotion to
the subject, but showed a different savior.

The one depicting His crucifixion showed Him, not in
meek acceptance of His fate, but in ecstatic, revelation of it. Gazing skyward,
His eyes were triumphant at the majesty that would turn Him into the most
powerful man to have ever walked the earth. Six Roman soldiers were beneath,
one impaling Him with a spear, two others trampling and gambling for His robe,
while the remaining three were bullying the Virgin Mary, Joseph and Mary
Magdalene. He was shown to welcome the trials, knowing they would bring Him
glory beyond compare. It showed Him as a man who went to the most extreme
lengths to attain His destiny.

The other depicted Jesus, ascending to heaven, while
blinding light enveloped Him. He gazed downward with glee in His eyes, those He
had left behind becoming smaller. The light that enveloped Him blinded and
impaled the same soldiers who had, before, brutalized Him. His was a vengeful
ascension, which struck down those who wronged Him, but also belittled any who
knew Him. The ascension was portrayed as a thing to be flaunted over Mary Magdalene,
Joseph and the Blessed Virgin, who were shown on their hands and knees in
terrified humility.

After they took in the interpretative depictions of
these two most pivotal Christian scenes, Jose and Rosanna both sat and began to
pray. Jose was slightly unnerved by the ecstatic expression with which Jesus
was depicted, but Rosanna found solace and courage in the way their savior was
shown vanquishing His tormentors and receiving His fearful adoration. This was
the Lord she needed to follow. He was a savior who was decisive, and had the
strength to put down any dog that did not cringe away.

They lost themselves in their prayers, while in the
background; another clergyman approached the aging Pastor Jorge. The new figure
was also dressed in full black robes and, as Jorge pointed to the kneeling
couple; he walked over to them while Jorge returned to his work.

He slowed as he neared the praying man; both men
exchanged nods and the priest continued towards the couple. He was younger and
taller than Pastor Jorge and had thinning hair. The round lenses in his bookish
glasses reflected the candlelight. He approached the Savourezes and, sitting
beside them, waited until they sensed his presence and were snapped out of
their trance.

“I’m sorry to disturb your worship, but Jorge told me
you have come to see me?” Father Pewter had just heard about this couple. Jorge
said that they were recently married and they had problems with their child.