The Pope Of Comber

Chapter 1

The Vatican: The Papal Bedchambers Almost Dawn Easter Sunday 1760 AD.

'You're Holiness...It is...I...Captain Zaccardi of the Swiss-guard.' A small stature of a man stood alone in the gloom of the large room. His uniform was covered in patches of a dark thick blood. He carried a heavy sword in his right hand. He was whispering towards the partly hidden form of a large man. The hefty figure of the man was barely visible within the dim candlelight which illuminated the room. He stood almost hidden behind the thin veil curtains which surrounded a huge four-poster bed which almost dominated the entire room with its sheer size.

'Captain...I thank the lord' a frightened voice responded. The tall figure of the man, whom was slightly overweight for his height, slowly immerged from behind the bed-curtains. He was wearing a long bright-white night robe. Upon his feet was a pair of brightly coloured slippers on his partly balding-head he wore a plain white skullcap. As he came into view the Captain could see the man was tightly clutching a large golden cross in his hands.

'I have bad news you're Holiness...The 'Ancient One' has breeched the walls and all our defences...killing many of my brave men in the process.' Captain Zaccardi quickly bowed his head looking shameful and defeated.

Falling to his knees in front of his Holiness the Captain cried in desperation.

'Forgive me...You're Holiness...for I have failed you.'

'No...Captain it cannot be helped...Stand up...You and your men will be rewarded in heaven for your brave fight against that 'Evil Demon' this night!' His Holiness said, but his voice was still trembling with fear.

The Captain quickly rose to his feet facing the Holiness. He smiled and looked as if he was about to speak. But before he could say anything his expression suddenly changed.

Without warning a large black leathery hand with sharp long fingernails cut straight through the Captains armour breast plate like a hot blade would cut through a block of butter. The Captain was so surprised by his attacker he dropped his heavy sword. The weapon crashed unto the floor making a crashing clanging sound as it done so.

Such was the force of the blow from behind. The unfortunate Captain was lifted a several feet off the floor.

His Holiness was so shocked at the sudden and violent vision before him. He inadvertently dropped the large golden cross he had been holding. It also made a clanging metallic sound as it bounced upon the stone floor at his feet and quickly disappeared under the huge four-poster.

The Captain gripped the leathery hand and its extending forearm with both his hands.

But he knew his efforts were futile. He was by then fully aware that he was now just as helpless as his brave soldiers had been before him.

His Holiness watched as the brave Captain quickly gave up his struggle against the perturbing hand and arm coming out of his chest. But as he watched he saw a determined look flash into the Captains dieing eyes.

'You're Holiness....' The Captain said through gritted teeth 'You know what you must do? There is only a few more minutes of darkness...left!' Those were the last words the brave Captain spoke?

His Holiness stood as if he was frozen to the spot. He watched as the Captain's body was violently flung to the side of the bedchamber like a tiny rag-doll.

He looked in horror as the last of the brave Captain's blood dripped from the hand down along its sharp dark claws and unto the floor. Then slowly the hand disappeared back into the darkness from whence it had come.