Page 45 of Muerte
“It’s an island.” Nicolette confirmed my earlier suspicion and fear.
My captivity was rapidly becoming more severe than I thought. To escape wasn't a simple matter of slipping past guards or scaling walls. It meant navigating the unknown waters of an expansive lake. I was a decent swimmer thanks to swimming class in junior high, but I couldn’t exactly swim away from here. Not to mention what might be lurking beneath all that pretty water.
I was practically cut off from the rest of the world right now. But that didn’t mean I was trapped for good.
Alexander had been off this island and the visiting tourists were coming and going somehow. I doubted it was by plane, which meant it had to be by boat. Before I could dwell too much, Esther whisked me away to continue the tour. She guided me through the upper levels and shared its history, explaining that the home had been built here ages ago.
It wasn’t until Alexander assumed his role as Diabolus that it had undergone renovations while still retaining its historical charm. We eventually reached a study with a closed door. Esther gestured towards it and explained in a low voice, "That's Alexander's office. He's there now, working as always."
Knowing he was a mere few feet away, separated only by an embellished door, had me eager to continue. It was Nicolette this time that seemed to understand my silence. With a light touch on my upper arm, she urged me to keep moving.
The final destination of the tour was a lavish and inviting library. The room’s aesthetic fit perfectly with the rest of the house. Dark wooden bookshelves that took up entire walls, richly upholstered furniture, and a grand fireplace that beckoned with warmth. Esther instructed me to sit in one of the chairs while she and Nicolette went to retrieve something.
I settled into the padded seat and closed my eyes, attempting to alleviate the dull throbbing in my head. A soft thud cut my break short. I turned and looked at the ornate table beside me, where a thick black book now sat.
It bore a striking emblem—an intricate, sinister cross centered within a serpent consuming its own tail. A thin but solid chain and a small lock secured it, as if guarding its secrets from prying eyes. The word Impío was carved into the thick leather cover.
“Is this your…?” I trailed off, trying to remember what Alexander had called it.
“This our Codex,” Nicolette confirmed for me. “Otherwise known as our doctrine.”
“Why is there a lock and chain?”
Esther ran a hand over the book, as if revering it. “It’s an original work, a sacred text that has been passed down through generations.”
With the way she was feeling up the thing, maybe I should have asked if she wanted some alone time with it.
“Only a select few are allowed to read this particular edition. Anytime you feel the need to study or learn on your own outside of the Chapel, this will be at your disposal.”
With an exceedingly gentle motion, she unlocked the chain, her actions careful and deliberate. Once the book was placed into my hands, a strange sensation coursed through me, as if the tome itself pulsed with a dark, forbidden power.
It was massive and, judging by the worn leather, close to ancient. I had to force myself to open it, hating the instant intrigue I felt as I held the substantial weight of it in my hands. As I opened the cover, the pages revealed arcane symbols and cryptic wording. I tentatively flipped through the first few, scanning the text.
Some of the sections had been mercifully transcribed, but the unfamiliar and strange language left me perplexed. The more I attempted to decipher the words, the more my unease grew. The images on the pages seemed to shift and writhe beneath my gaze. An unsettling sensation settled in the pit of my stomach.
With a quick movement, I shut the book, the pages falling together with a soft thud. That small glimpse was enough for me. I didn’t want to learn or understand what these passages meant.
I wanted to forget I ever saw them and continue feigning heavy disinterest. I tried to shove it back into Esther’s hands, but she wouldn’t accept, her expression unreadable.
“I know it is a lot to take in.”
“That’s a bit of an understatement,” I replied dryly.
“This is a book of extensive knowledge. It will help you understand our beliefs and the path we follow. It holds wisdom of our faith and our history.”
“Has it occurred to you that I’m not doing any of this because I want to? Honestly, you can keep your secrets. I can’t decipher them anyways.”
Ignoring my objection, she and Nicolette took a seat on either side of me and gently reopened the book. "Let’s start with the basics, our guiding principles and the teachings that shape our lives,” Esther began. “The name of our religion is Impío, which translates to ungodly.”
“And unholy,” Nicolette added, earning an admonishing look from her friend.
“It signifies our departure from traditional beliefs and our embrace of a different path."
“Are you like…Satanists?” I asked, the images on the pages flashing through my mind.
“We are most certainly not,” Esther replied with a giggle. “Our reverence transcends typical notions of devil worship. While Impío has symbolisms that can be associated with satanism, our beliefs and practices are drawn from unique traditions, beliefs, and rituals. To merely label us as satanists would be a gross oversimplification and misunderstanding of our deeply rooted faith in the Lord of the Flesh.”
My brows slammed together. “Lord of the Flesh?”