Tag Archives: Rome

3.23 Out of the Frying Pan

Book III: Chapter 23
November 13

At the revelation of my rescue attempt, a newfound hope was evident on the faces of my friends – therefore I repeated my earlier question, “Are they safe? Do you still have The Nails?”

The Nails of Jesus

At that point the smiles fell from Alan and Miriam, and I didn’t need to hear them answer to know that it wasn’t good.

Even still, Alan advised, “After we left you, we went to Rome. We found Miriam’s Letter from La Papessa. Unfortunately Cardinalate Marrollo found us.”

Cardinal Marrollo

“He forced us to see Benedict.” Miriam took up the tale. “We thought Marrollo gave The Pope La Papessa’s letter and that Marrollo was working for Benedict.”

“The good news – at the time anyway,” Alan added, “was that Benedict convinced us that he was NOT The Second Helper and that all of his overtures to support Bates in the world spotlight were just a ruse – meant to allow him to keep tabs on Bates. Sort of a keep your friends close and your enemies closer type of a deal.”

“Well, given what went on out there tonight, I’m not sure we can trust Benedict anymore.” I replied. “This is a VERY private meeting and he would have had no reason to show his support for Bates’ Ma’bus persona… unless he really meant it.”

“That’s what we feared.” Miriam agreed. “We could hear all the shouting when they were sentencing us.”

“OK. OK. But what happened with you and Benedict?” I tried to change the subject.

“Naturally he wanted our Nails.” Alan answered. “We told him we would go get them and bring them back, but after we left him we chased after Marrollo instead. For although I could do nothing to stop him, I realized that Marrollo never gave La Papessa’s letter to Benedict but instead used a slight of hand to slip him a worthless re-creation.”

Marrollo’s slight of hand was good but not this good, eh?

“So you noticed that ruse too, eh?” I smiled. But when he didn’t understand how I could have know about the trick, I added, “Never mind, please continue.”

“So anyway, when we learned that he did not in fact give La Papessa’s letter to Benedict, we surmised that Marrollo was actually in league with Bates.”

“And we reasoned that if Benedict was not the Second Helper, then Marrollo must be!” Miriam added.

“So we chased Marrollo to Baghdad.” Alan continued. “Miriam used her mind tricks to help us to infiltrate the infamous Dr. Ma’bus’ palace. She tracked down both of our villains and then we stormed in upon them in one of Bates’ private chambers — ready to send The Beast and his Helper back to the Fiery Pits! But then…”

A long pause.

“And then?” I prompted (now regretting the fact that my power of Sight had been taken from me!)

“To this day, I still am not sure what was really was going on there.” Miriam eyes were distant. But it was a scene I will never forget…”

“Well, did you find Bates in there or not?” I asked urgently.

“Oh, we found Bates…” Alan explained, “And Marrollo… and they were indeed in the Chairman’s chambers. Furthermore, they were quite… distracted – which allowed us to sneak in on them. But they were not in fact alone – Mystery was there too.”

Mystery

“Mystery, but why?” I asked.

“Because Marrollo was crucifying her to an upside down cross right there within Bates’ bedroom!” Miriam blurted. “And all the while, Bates was looking on… and laughing.”

Ma’bus or Jafar?

“Oh how Mystery writhed in agony upon that cross.” Alan closed his eyes tight against the image. “Regardless of the fact that she was an evil wench, the sight itself was horrible. The blood… the screaming… her eyes…”

“Yes. Yes. I get the picture.” I replied anxiously. Then, running back to the door to listen, I urged my friends, “We’re running out of time here. What happened next?”

“This is where it gets confusing.” Miriam answered. “As we barged in, Bates was handing Marrollo the case that held Alan’s Nail. Marrollo was wearing some sort of glove that apparently allowed him to pick up The Nail and he grabbed it just as Bates turned around to face us. And then it was as if we all got caught up in a sea of… er… emotional mystery.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“It’s hard to explain.” Alan said. “Mystery was barely alive and when she saw us barge in, for a brief moment, a ray of hope crossed her face. But when she recognized us, and especially when she laid eyes on Miriam, she knew we would NOT be saving her from her fate.” Here I noticed that Miriam couldn’t help but smile even as Alan spoke on. “As for Bates, he stopped laughing and instead began to rain down curses upon us.”

“But none of this sounds too surprising to me.” I interrupted. “They reacted just as I would have expected.”

“Let me finish. You are correct — Mystery and Bates didn’t do anything that surprised us.”

“It was Marrollo!” Miriam couldn’t resist. “As he was holding The Nail, and while Bates was facing us — with his back towards Marrollo – I caught hold of the cardinal’s eyes – if only for a moment. And… I caught a glimpse into his mind… and the <thought> I saw there was amazing!”

Nobody said a word as Miriam took a moment to collect herself, “I would swear on my life that, in that moment, Marrollo was contemplating using The Nail… to stab the demon that has become Ghaz al Ridwan Ma’bus!”


Continue Reading

24 – Into the Fires
Book III Table of Contents

2.31 She Knows

Book II: Chapter 31
July 13

My vision about Lazarus’ Resurrection Day faded to black, yet my Sight continued.

Once more I found myself looking at the present day — my friends were apparently still on their flight to Rome and Miriam’s head continued to rest upon Alan’s shoulder.

But just as quickly, I remembered something else – an inkling of a memory of Alan’s that I got just before The Negrido ended back in my workshop a few days ago.

At the time, I didn’t think much of it, but now I realized that it was important — for, as the quirkiness of life sometimes churns out, I realized that the piece of Alan’s memory that came back to me concerned that same fateful day which I had just re-lived!

I wasn’t really honest with her that day.

That’s what Alan’s mind kept screaming during The Negrido over and over.   

(OK, it’s time you understand something – even I knew that Alan, nee Lazarus, had been harboring a secret from Miriam, nee Mary of Magdala, for a long time, and while it might have been truthful for Alan to tell Mary that he had heard Jesus’ calling to him, asking him to come back and help her in a mission to save the world, when you discover the whole truth, I think you’re going to agree that Alan was a bit deceptive in the description of the afterlife that he related to her).

Peace? Love? Fulfillment? Alan’s mind had chided himself during my ritual. Ha! More like Uncertainty, Regret, and Longing. I made Miriam believe I was in Heaven, when in reality I was only in Purgatory!

But that’s not all Alan’s mind revealed. I remember him also harboring this secret…

Had I told her that Jesus offered me the opportunity to escape the sorrow of Purgatory simply by agreeing to come back and aid her, how noble would that make me look? Certainly it wouldn’t prove how much I loved her!

Do YOU see the problem here?

Alan didn’t believe the truth was dynamic enough to attract Mary and so he embellished it to make his sacrifice appear more noble – apparently because he knew he was competing against Jesus himself for Mary’s heart.

Yet, if I’ve told Alan once, I’ve told him a thousand times – chivalry doesn’t pay.

Unfortunately the fool would never listen to me. He always wanted to be the Shining Knight who came to save the day – too bad for him, he never played that role very well.

I then remember Alan’s thoughts turning blacker – even as my Negrido reached its climax.

Where has all my chivalry gotten me? Alan lamented, his soul refusing to respond to my alchemy. Miriam still doesn’t love me. She’s still saving herself for The Teacher. How can she do it? What kind of a life is that? Oh, why didn’t I just tell Mary the truth? I thought when Jesus called me from the grave I would have it all – an escape from Purgatory, a chance to be with the woman I love, a glorious place in history after fulfilling His mission, and upon death – an immediate entrance into Heaven!

And still Alan’s mind kept on, Instead nothing has gone as expected – we failed in our mission, and more importantly to me, I never did get my time with Mary! For twenty centuries I did my best to win her heart, but to no avail. What more could a man do to prove his love? Alas, she never wanted me.

I also recalled that, as The Negrido wore on, Alan started sinking into a dangerous state of self-loathing — fighting against me pulling him back to life.

But that was a battle I refused to let him win – for that would have meant he found a way to die without me!

In desperation I forced him to drink a poison potion — essentially what you might call a happy pill. I know it sounds crazy, but hey, an alchemy master like myself has a lot of tricks up his sleeve.

(What’s that – why don’t I take my own medicine and just be happy? Enough questions!)

NO, these are the thoughts of a madman! Alan’s mind had told himself during my ritual – after the effects of my special potion began. I am Lazarus. Jesus of Nazareth was my friend, my teacher, my Lord. I DO BELIEVE!

And that was the very moment that I successfully pulled Alan out of his stupor — when I knew The Negrido had been a success!

(Naturally I didn’t tell Miriam all of this. Hey, let her wonder a bit, right?).

All this I now remembered as I look at Alan and Miriam on that plane to Rome. (And by the way,  all this movement with the Sight and my memories was making me pretty dizzy – just in case you’re wondering!)

At first glance, both of my friends appeared relaxed.

But of a sudden, Alan’s eyes opened wide in revelation, “My God, She knows!”

Miriam stirred but didn’t wake up.

Softly Alan continued to himself, “She knows my secret. She didn’t need her mental powers to guess it. Jesus must have told her way back when. She knows the truth — and she has always known!”


Continue Reading

32 – Two Roads Diverged
Book II Table of Contents

2.29 Leavin’ on a Jet Plane

Book II: Chapter 29
July 13

The good news is that my friends finally went away.

The bad news it that I did not get to work in peace as I’d hoped because the very next day I had another vision forced upon me – ironically it was about Alan and Miriam (gee whiz, how do I get rid of these guys?)


“Why did we bother to come through JFK?” Miriam complained, fiddling with her face mask.

“Hopefully the delay won’t be much longer.” Alan soothed, he too donning a face mask as per the requirements for air travel that had been mandated since back in 2020. “Meanwhile, let’s take this time to plan our next moves.”

Despite the delay in the plane’s arrival, my friends had been able to book the flight quickly because their Freedom Passes and social credits were still flagged as Platinum status – this was based on the fact that both of them had received every round of their semi-annual Covid top-off vaccines since 2021, had no record of any crimes, had no record of social media hate speech, were both on record as bleeding heart liberals, had taken all their White Privilege re-education programs, and had never missed a daily virus test on their phone (that last was a tally I’d ‘corrected’ during their visit to me in order to account for the time they missed while Miriam was rescuing Alan – it was a task I happily undertook because it fit with my plans to get rid of them!)

“Oh, Alan, always the analytical mind.” Miriam replied. But then, as if realizing her possible faux pas, she added, “Er. I didn’t mean that in a mental telepathy sort of way.” And seeing her friend’s face redden around his mask, she stammered, “Alan, please know that I did NOT go through your private thoughts. I never have in the past and I never plan to. You mus–”

(Don’t believe her, Alan).

“Hush. I trust you, Miriam. But let’s just make a pact so we can save ourselves further embarrassment – no more telepathy, mental probes, or other mental tricks.”

(Amen to that!)

Miriam nodded, “If I have anything to say, I’ll say it out loud.”

“Amen!”

(Copy cat).

“Alan,” Miriam’s grew thoughtful. “How long has it been since we’ve last talked? I mean really talked.”

(Oh no, when a woman says she wants to talk that’s never good).

Alan thought for a moment, “The last time we were together — before you rescued me from Ma’bus — was in 1945 – April 30th to be exact.”

“The day Hitler shot himself – alas another Antichrist theory which didn’t pan out.”  

“And yet, I wonder…” Alan mused. ”Unlike most, we saw Hitler’s remains – at least what his people claimed was his remains – which, as you’ll recall we had certain unanswered questions about at the time. Nevertheless, even though we determined that Hitler was not in fact our Antichrist before he died, we still worked hard to drive him out of his mind in order to rid of the world of his evil.”

“I’d say so.” Miriam interjected. “After all, even though the world never knew, it was you, John, and myself who succeeded in pushing Der Fuhrer down the suicide path.”

(I realize this probably all news to you, but actually it’s quite true).  

“Ah, but don’t forget — Hitler shot himself two days before we thought he would.”

“So?”

“Let’s not forget – none of us actually saw him take the shot. And while we did see his charred corpse, I told you back then I wasn’t comfortable with they way everything played out.”

“But nothing more happened. We all agreed the Hitler File was closed.”

(Actually I agreed with Alan at the time — I wasn’t 100% sure Hitler was really dead, but I didn’t feel like fighting Miriam, so I didn’t say anything).

“What if we were wrong?” Alan mused.

“What do you mean?”

“What if Hitler never did kill himself?” Alan whispered. Then leaning in closer he said even softer, “Miriam, is it possible Hitler actually stayed alive and has now re-emerged as… Dr. Ma’bus?!?”

The color drained from Miriam’s face, yet before she could respond, Alan pressed ahead, “Let me take it a step further. Miriam, in the course of the last few decades, I have been postulating a new theory — in the past, whenever we’ve been presented with a potential Antichrist emerging, how did we evaluate that candidate to determine if they were truly The Beast?”

“I’m not sure I understand — why are we talking about men whom History has proven NOT to be antichrists?”

“Has it? Think about the men we were once CONVINCED were The Beast: Nero, Attila, Arnulf, Weishaupt, and Hitler. I want you to—“

Nero
Attila
Arnulf
Weishaupt
Hitler

“You forgot Martin Luther.” Miriam interjected.

“Actually, I left him out on purpose. There is no question that we were wrong about him and luckily John caught our error in time.”

(Well, at least someone gives me some credit around here. Thank you, Alan).

“Agreed.” Miriam consented as much, but her face told a different story regarding her true feelings Martin Luther. However rather than argue the point, she encouraged Alan to continue, “OK, so what?”

“Miriam, what if ALL of them really were The Beast?”

“How could that be? They all died – and stopped causing problems.”

“And yet, in every case there is a nuance that left me unsure. Consider Nero’s death – a supposed suicide in which he drove a dagger into his own throat – albeit with the aid of his personal secretary Epaphroditus. And yet Epaphroditus then conveniently disappeared from history?”

“Even still, Nero’s death seemed pretty convincing.”

“Death of Nero” by V. S. Smirnov

“Was it? Or did Nero switch with his aide and disappear himself?”

“But, why? For what purpose?”  

(Duh? Miriam, are you so obtuse?)

“Let’s table that and examine the other candidates. Next there was Attila — his demise is still controversial: was it internal bleeding caused by years of heavy drinking or did he die at the hands of his wife Gudrun?”

“What does it matter? Either way, he DID die.” Miriam rebutted. ”And did you forget that Attila was buried in a triple coffin made of gold, inside of silver, inside of iron – all to keep him locked inside?”

“And supposedly his army then diverted a section of the river Tisza over his grave site – yet all those men were later killed by Attila’s son Ellac in order to keep the exact location of the grave site a secret.”

(Hmm. I’m starting to see where Alan’s heading. What about YOU?)

“Attention passengers of Lufthansa Flight 1501 to Rome,” came a voice over the Terminal speakers, “Please proceed to Gate A31…”

“Hey, they changed our gate!” Miriam arose and began to hastily gather her belongings. “That’s at the other end of the terminal!”

“Moving on,” Alan trotted after Miriam, continuing his discourse between breaths as they waded through the crowd. “Arnulf’s death – still a mystery. Same goes for Weishaupt. And we already discussed Hitler.”

“Ugh, Alan, just spit it out — what are you trying to say?”

As they stepped onto moving walkway, Alan whispered urgently into her ear. “Just this, Miriam — what if all of those evil men really were the SAME man?  What if we did correctly identify the Beast each time, but due to our actions or just some unexpected turns of History, Satan chose to delay his rise?”

Miriam suddenly stopped in her tracks – causing a backlog on the tight walkway behind Alan.

“Sorry, friends,” Alan turned to apologize to the many passengers behind him who were now complaining at the stoppage, before quickly urging Miriam ahead towards the end of the moving walkway.

Once they got off, Miriam pulled Alan aside, “My God, Alan, what if the spirit of Satan’s son possessed the bodies of those men and merely used each as a vessel?”

(ARG! Do you see what she’s doing? As always, Miriam can’t accept someone else’s idea, so she has to change it to make it hers. Just like a woman – never satisfied until they have their own way!)

“Hmmm… that I can’t answer,” Alan replied, “But one thing is sure. Lucifer is a master manipulator – for something as important as the rise to power of his son — and his own subsequent release from the prison of Hell — surely, if he felt for even a moment that everything wasn’t going exactly as planned, he would pull the plug and start over later, right?”

“Indeed. For Gabriel always said that once The Antichrist attempts The Armageddon Rite, he will have one chance at it – just ONE. That was the agreement Satan worked out with God. Although why The Lord would allow Himself to be bound by such a possib–”

“Attention passengers of Lufthansa Flight 1501 to Rome,” came the airport voice again. “All passengers should be at Gate A31 ready to board.”

“Oh, let’s hurry, Alan. We can talk more on the way to Rome!”


Continue Reading

30 – Dead Man Walking
Book II Table of Contents

2.27 A Rose by Any Other Name

Book II: Chapter 27
July 12

My last jibe did not disappoint – and with both Alan and Miriam wfhite-faced, I went for the kill, “Lighten up, people. I know we can’t switch sides. But if Michael wants to do his thing – fine. And if you two want to stop Bates or Ma’bus or whoever he is – also fine. Just leave me out of it.” Then I clicked on the TV – hoping they would finally get the hint.

Miriam walked over, rudely snatched the remote (yes, the remote that I had just recently learned how to use!), and then turned the TV back off. “Stern discipline awaits him who leaves the path, John! You’re not listening.”

“WHAT?” I roared. “WHAT DO YOU WANT ME TO KNOW?”

“Don’t you see — Michael’s offensive is a SECRET attack! I wrote about this in my letter to La Papessa. In the end, after consulting the scriptures, she marked my letter signum eternus and locked it within the most secret of the Vatican’s vaults – where it been ever since.”

“The Biblioteca Apostolica?” Alan asked. When Miriam shook her head, he wondered, “Then your letter must be in The Archives of the Apos–?”

The Vatican Archives

“Alan,” Miriam interrupted. “It’s not in any location under the control of The Apostolic Penitentiary.

“Then what other secret vault could you be referring to?”

“I’m referring to the… the… Sacra Crypta.” Miriam whispered.

The Sacra Crypta

(Bingo! That’s what I was trying to remember when Joseph was considering Cardinal Marrollo for Confuto Penitentiary – a post that would give him access to the Sacra Crypta. Damn, it’s all starting to make sense now).

Alan’s eyes narrowed, “My dear Miriam, remember who you’re talking to – you don’t seriously expect me to believe that such a warehouse has remained outside of MY knowledge for lo these many centuries?”

“I’m not sure what to say, Alan, but The Sacra Crypta does indeed exist.”

“Then where is it located?” Alan snapped, clearly embarrassed.

“Beneath the church of Santo Stefano degli Ungheresi.

“Impossible. That church was pulled down in 1776.”

“True. But what else do you know about it?”

Santo Stefano was established by Charlemagne in the 9th century.” Alan recalled. “And I was in attendance when Pope Sylvester II later granted it to King Stephen I of Hungary back around 1000. In fact, that church was a key diplomatic link between Hungary and the Vatican for centuries.”

“OK. OK.” I tried to move the story along. “What happened next, Professor?”

“Hmm.” Alan tried to remember. “I moved away from Rome again around 1100, and by then the church fell into some disrepair. In 1776 Pope Pius VI pulled down Santo Stefano and built a new sacristy for St. Peter’s.”

“If you loved it so much, why didn’t you stop this?” I teased.

“John, as you might recall, we three were tied up dealing with Weishaupt at the time. Regardless, Saint Stephen’s church was torn down – so now all that remains are its Roman columns – which I convinced Pius, by letter, to place in the new sacristy of the St. Peter’s.”

“Alan, you’re correct on all of that.” Miriam agreed. “I know how much you loved that chapel. However, you overlooked one thing.”

“Oh, what’s that?” Alan asked, an eyebrow raised in disbelief.

“There was a secret cellar under Santo Stefano.”

“What?!? That’s impossible.” Alan was offended. “Why, I’ve been there a thousand times, how could I never have known about it? There wasn’t any such feature in the original construction.”

“She said it was a secret.” I laughed.

Alan’s look at me was pure ice, yet it was Miriam who spoke again. “I’m sorry I couldn’t tell you. I was sworn to secrecy.”

“Who built this vault? Who kept you from telling us?”

“The answer to that question is one and the same.” Miriam began.

But it was I who filled in the blank, “Don’t tell me — Pope Joan?”


Continue Reading

28 – The Bible Code
Book II Table of Contents