I moved to Hickleover recently. Everyone called it a gated community, but I didn’t mind, I felt it was good for people like myself to mix with others. Yes, we didn’t have a lot in common on the surface, but life would be so boring if all of us were the same.
My neighbour was a lovely fella for the most part. Our early exchange was a little awkward but that was totally fine; I was an open book and happy for people to ask me anything they liked, really.
“Welcome to the neighbourhood, I’m George!” he said, with a beaming smile accompanied by a box of Celebrations, which was thoughtful.
He was an imposing man, a very large figure to be polite. He could run through me; I giggled on the inside.
“Thank you very much! You can call me Abhi, everyone finds it easier.”
“Hahahaha, oh yes, not to worry, Dev used to say the same thing,” George cackled.
“So, what’s it like around here?”
“We’re a close-knit community, everyone is very friendly. Never had any serious problems in our area, there was a thing which happened with Dev…” George held his tongue as his eyebrows made a triangle shape.
“Sorry, what happened?”
“Hu Ha Hah, oh nothing much really. On Dev, he’s not around anymore but he was a good lad, you remind me a bit of him.”
“OK…that’s great, I suppose. It’s almost sunset, I best get going, don’t want to miss prayer,” I said, slightly bemused.
“Carry on Abhi ahaha, nice to meet you. I have a prayer this Sunday if you care to join?”
“Oh, sorry. I’m not…”
George seemed to be taken aback a little, his smile wasn’t there anymore and he just looked at me intently with his expanded, fish-like eyes. I didn’t want to come across as the sort of guy who wasn’t integrating.
“But you know what George, it’s alright. I’ll come, it’s great to experience different faiths,” I said.
“That’s fine, no pressure ahaha but it’ll be great to see you there. Take care anyways, good luck with the prayers!”
“See you around” I smiled.
***
That evening, as I sat on my brand-new Chesterfield sofa, taking a sip from a can of Coke Zero, I digested my conversation with George and reflected a bit on the past. One may have thought what a guy like me was doing in a place like Hickleover, but I came from Little Heath.
In Little Heath, the community was diverse, we tended to lock horns more often than not, but everyone had an understanding for each other. I came from a small family of three; my dad passed when I was young, and Mother raised me and Harry. We had to work hard from an early stage to support Mother, especially when she got sick. I did majority of the heavy lifting to be frank. While at university, I worked at the petrol station, and when I graduated, I’d retire from my day job and head to the depot to load parcels in a trailer all night.
Harry was a bum; while I scratched and clawed, he made excuses. We all faced some highs and lows, but I wouldn’t give up. Straight out of school, Harry messed up and never made much of an effort at college either. Soon, he briefly worked as a sales assistant in several supermarkets but was sacked due to laziness. For each failure, he cried racism; it was always because of how he looked or what he believed in and never him.
Sometimes I thought it was partly due to the crowd he hung around with. His friend Mo was of a similar vein, barely held a job, smoked weed all day and spoke vividly of a number of conspiracy theories.
“They wanna keep us down bro, they don’t like how we look! I swear, if I was white, I’d be a top shotta in them glass buildings bro,” Mo would say when he’d come over for Harry.
I’d desperately try to hold my laughter inside at his sheer stupidity and pressed a little as to why or how they “wanna keep us down”. Mo would reply, “They control the banks and governments bro, you’ve seen what’s happening around the world, divide and conqueror bro.” Harry shared the same views, and I just saw him and Mo as people with too much time on their hands. When Mother passed, I wasn’t going to let Harry lean on me anymore. I had enough, I had to get out.
***
Later in the week, George had stopped by briefly to make sure I was ready to attend prayer with him on Sunday. I wasn’t one to let people down, and before I knew it, Sunday had arrived. George gave my door a gentle knock, and I was out with excitement. After hopping in the car with George, we soon exchanged some pleasantries and started our journey towards some worship.
“Hey Abhi, many apologies for how we first met aha. It’s just that I’m very passionate about my beliefs and in fact I’m pretty fond of Coloureds,” he said.
I forced out a smile while thinking to myself, ‘Coloureds’? That wouldn’t go down too well in Little Heath, but surely George must’ve meant well.
“Ah not to worry, we all get passionate at times. Speaking of your fondness, may I ask why you feel that way?” I asked.
“Oh Abhi! My fondness goes beyond all of our species being one of the same, for she who gave us our daily bread, has promised us her glory through the promised one. The Mahdi, our dark knight,” he said.
Sometimes such religious waffle made people seem a bit crazy, but that was a stereotype, and I found some common ground with George. Being a man of God and all.
“That’s very interesting, in my faith we believe in the Mahdi to. It is said that he will appear during the end of time and it will be a sign of triumph over evil in the world,” I said very seriously.
George laughed a little and gave a nod before cautiously leaving a slip road. Then, there was a long period of quiet, and with me not being the earliest of birds, I took a nap which would end when I was awoken by the diesel engines clatter coming to an abrupt halt.
I opened my eyes, a little dazed.
“Hey, George, are we here?” I asked.
“Oh yes, indeed aha, looks like you had some nice shut-eye.”
There was pitch black darkness outside, I could barely see much. The landscape was vast and covered in a sea of greenery. A pathway was sandwiched between two fields, with grass which was almost taller than me.
As we walked along the pathway, an unsettled gust of wind pressed against me and grew in strength. This was reinforced by an increasing rattling noise coming from the tall grass which danced with enthusiasm in the fields.
“How long now George, couldn’t we have just driven directly to the place?” I asked, sounding a little disturbed.
“Our land is holy, Abhi. Each step we take on foot towards her glorification, is met with a great reward indeed. We are half a mile out; can you see the temple?” George said with eagerness.
“I think so…”
I could feel the lens of my eyes expand as I stared hard in the distance. I could see an orange glow form a semi-circle around a rectangular building.
As we got closer, I could see the temple better and unfortunately, smell it, too. It was a building with two storeys coated in a white paint and render which were peeling away. Of what remained on the windowless walls, mould sprayed the structure with darkness. As for its scent, it smelled like dung.
It would appear that the light I had noticed earlier came from a number of hooded figures which were surrounding the temple whilst holding a flambeau.
“Who are they George?”
“Family. I’ve known them my whole life. They are our brothers of true faith and the protectors of our holy grounds, be not afraid my friend,” he said.
I wasn’t afraid, but just found it a little odd. Interestingly, the ‘brothers’ knelt and formed a guard of honour as I approached the temple’s double-door. I didn’t know how to respond but I nodded at them.
Inside, the temple was well lit and the setup looked rather ordinary. I didn’t visit the Church for obvious reasons, but remembered singing the Lord’s prayer in symphony at primary school. There would be an uproar if they made the kids do it these days.
Anyway, the nave area had the usual long bench setup. But ahead of the pulpit, there was an altar table with what seemed like a hole in the centre.
“The temple is very pleasant, George, very excited to learn more.”
“That you will my friend. Please take a seat here in the front row and we shall begin very shortly.”
As I got more comfortable, the brothers swarmed in and filled the nave area in seconds. On my row, I was sat on the edge. As each brother passed me, they gave a firm handshake with both hands and bowed slightly. I felt very special.
I know I mentioned the awful smell of the building while we were outside, and maybe it was cow manure or animal excrement in the fields which clouded the temple, but it was even worse on the inside.
George stood behind the pulpit and started what appeared to be a sermon of some kind.
“The grace of our saviour, and the love of the All-Mother, and the fellowship of our peoples, be with you all,” he said.
“She gave us bread and we gave her grace. She broke the bread, and provided it to our brothers and said, have this, my servants and eat it. For this is my being, which will be given up for you,” George said with inspiration.
I was surprised by collective gasps in the audience. The “brother” next to me was very animated; he had leapt from the bench and cried, “Glory be to Nora!”
George continued.
“When the feast was ended, she took the chalice.
Gave the chalice to our brothers and said, ‘Take this, all of you, and wash thy orifice’
This is my sweat, the sweat of the eternal covenant.
This will be released for you and for all servants who seek my forgiveness.
Do this to honour me.”
The brother next to me began to ring a bell maniacally.
Then, everyone in the rows along the bench got up and began to form a queue towards the pulpit.
I didn’t know what was happening while I was in the line as my view was blocked by a tall brother in front of me, but each person appeared to walk up to George as he said “Body of Nora”, each time.
As I tried to get a glimpse from the sides of my line of sight, I could tell that when each person got to George, they seemed to face their back towards him and went into a crouching position. I began to feel a little nervous.
Soon, I reached the front of the line and was shocked to find that the brother in front of me had pulled his trousers down…WTF? He casually bent over with his behind facing George.
I couldn’t believe my eyes. George then walked over to the brother, holding a chalice. He spilled a few drops on the brother’s arse as he said, “Body of Nora”, once again. It was so bizarre. The brother replied “Amen” and returned to the bench.
It was my turn next. I was literally bricking it, and George sniggered. I saw the chalice in his hand, and it was letting off a steam. Whatever was in there was warm and made me hold my nose.
I don’t know why, or how, but I began to slowly reach for the button around my waist. Before I knew it, my denim jeans were below my knees. My pride wouldn’t allow me to remove my boxers, and I stood there, crouched a little, like a gullible animal waiting to be slaughtered. It may sound a tad bit dramatic, but I never felt more humiliated.
George approached me, and was static for what felt like an age. Was he whispering something? And then, pulling my shorts towards him, I felt a tiny stream of a gooey substance trickle down my crack and over my anus. At the same speed, I pulled my jeans back on and retreated to the bench, thanking God this bizarre custom was over, or so I thought.
When we returned to the bench, George made his way to the altar table. Standing before it, with his arms stretched out in welcome, he began a chant, which went something like “huuuu haaaaaah, huuuuuu haaaaa, huuuuuuu haaaaaaah”. It seemed to increase with magnitude and I could no longer see the pupils of George’s eyes. They were plain white, and it appeared he was having an out-of-body experience.
At this point, my eyes were filled with utter disgust as I saw each brother, one-by-one, take turns sitting on the altar table with their trousers down. I couldn’t believe it; they were taking a fucking shit! There was someone who seemed to be struggling and in unison they all chanted “huuuuuuuuuuuuu” in one long gasp before exploding with “haaaah”. That sure helped him!
Although the brothers had finished doing their business, I personally had no intention of taking a shit publicly. “What kind of sick fucks are these people?” I thought. I then approached George, and before I could whisper silently of my withdrawal in their ritual, he spoke to me. His eyebrows were no longer raised and the pupils of his eyes had returned.
“Oh, Abhi my friend, patience!! Hahaha, I love your dedication. Don’t you worry, your time will come. For the greatest offerings are those which come from the Coloureds,” he said.
“I wasn’t going to…”
George interrupted me.
“For in the name of the All-Mother, the prophecy of our Mahdi will be most complete, she will be honoured, and it will be a joyous celebration,” he said. I was fed-up with this strange man. His waffle made little sense to me, and I needed answers.
Just as I was about to use my last drop of energy to question George, I heard a loud wail from somewhere in the temple. Or was it outside? I tried to listen intently, but it lasted less than a couple of seconds.
All the brothers were looking at me as I power-walked to the exit.
Opening the entrance door, I looked out along the path which led to the temple and the fields which surrounded us. There was nothing to be seen or heard.
I wanted to go home.
As I turned around to return inside the foul building, I was startled by George who was standing right behind me.
“Did you hear that, George?”
“Hear what Abhi?”
“That loud cry, it seemed like it came from somewhere close by,” I said, surprised.
“Oh, forgive me my friend, my ears do not deceive me. I think you are in need of a feast and some well-deserved rest,” George said, his expression unchanged.
It was staggering to see him deny what was abundantly clear to me, and it just added to my increasing confusion. It was best I got out as soon as possible.
“Not to worry George, I must be on my way soon, when do you intend to finish from here?” I spoke.
“We intend to remain in the holy grounds tonight, and at dawn, we shall begin our pilgrimage to the Cave of Nora to reinforce our oneness in her. Please, join us in our spiritual struggle. The brothers are expecting you,” he said
After my experiences, I had my reservations. Did I have much of a choice though, seeing I arrived with George and all?
I politely requested to be excused from their feast as I was very tired and wanted some space. I always carried some snacks on me given my own dietary requirements, so it was never a bother.
George took me up a darkened staircase to the first floor that hadn’t responded well to decay and rot. It made me feel uneasy, and I wondered if Dev had been here before.
We made it to the top. There was a long hallway which was stuffed between multiple rooms on each side; I assumed this was where the brothers must have rested. Amid the increasing gloom, I noticed a shine at the end of the hallway. As I moved closer, I could see that it was a door which had been painted in a bloody red.
“Seems like a fancy room George, I bet it’s for you,” I joked.
“Ah yes, they all say that first ha ha hah. It’s the red isn’t it? Stands out. We use the red room for special prayers. Please refrain from entering,” he said.
Not that I was going to, anyway, but I found it odd that he asked me not to enter the ‘red room’. George then showed me my accommodation, if I could call it that. We entered the first room to our right, and immediately, I shivered because there was a drastic shift in the temperature.
It was chilly inside the room, and I could barely make out the large silhouette before me. George startled me by setting a candle, bringing that ballooning smile to light which gave me a minor fright.
While it was still difficult to see effectively, the dim light in the room showcased a small table and a single bed. They were the only pieces of furniture I could make out. The wallpaper was peeling away, there were cracks in the walls, and patches of forest green were smeared on the floorboards which creaked with each step I took.
Worst of all, the foul smell from when I first entered the place was heightened, and I couldn’t open any windows either! I puked a little on the inside entertaining the origin of the stench which stained my very soul.
“Rest well friend. I will bring you breakfast in the morning, and then we shall rejoice in pilgrimage,” George said.
“Ah, thank you. Too kind,” I said, slightly bitter by the state of the room.
I couldn’t help but feel a sense of uneasiness as George left. I decided to lay on the bed, but seconds later my backside was attacked by very rigid floorboards. A revolting odour hit me harder at the same time. It seemed like a prank at first and I was furious, can’t I relax even for a moment?
I pushed myself out and, instinctively, pulled the bedsheets away. That forest green patch I had seen around the room was deeper in the hole within the bed. I retreated in disgust and fell to the floor.
I never felt more alone and broke down in tears. I asked myself, “what am I even doing here? And in God’s name where have I come?”
After calming myself, I found a corner in the room which was reasonably clean. I could finally have a lie down, and Snickers never tasted better to me. What a relief.
It may have been well past twilight when I must have dosed off into a half-sleep, which was interrupted with a nightmare.
My adrenaline-boosted inquisitiveness had me standing in the hallway outside in seconds. I walked slowly towards the red room. Each step made a groan with an echo at the end which stretched all the way down. The sounds were somewhat acceptable within the confines of my room.
Walking down the hallway, my uneasiness had elevated. I was about half way down when I started to hear the familiar, “huuuuuuuuh, haaaaaaaah” chant; it seemed to grow louder the closer I got to the door.
There was an oval-shaped brass backplate with a standard keyhole; the doorknob was made from glass which had darkened. I turned the doorknob which felt rather loose, and the door unlocked with anticipation. I opened it, just a crack, and could just about make out what was inside.
I saw no one and there was no furniture at all in the room. I took note of some candles in the centre of the room which had been laid out in a small circle; they made the oak flooring shine like gold. The room was wide enough for two big double beds, and the plain white wallpaper made the room appear bigger than it was.
A dark and narrow shadow startled me. It interrupted the glow from the oak flooring. It had been cast from my opening of the door. Breathing a little sigh of relief, I decided to enter the room. My footsteps, barely made a sound.
As I approached the centre of the room, I could see the candles enclosed a square trap door which had been embedded into the flooring. Standing directly above it, I could hear faint chanting. I soon found myself pulling on the black handle of the trap door.
There was a ladder, which I began to climb down. I could barely see what was beneath me; I was in a pit of gloom. As I climbed down, further and further, the chanting was getting louder, “huuuuuuu, haaaaaaaaah!”
I felt a chill down my spine.
After what felt like twenty minutes, I reached the bottom. I turned my back and saw a tunnel. It was pitch black as I walked, and the harmonious voices were beating on my eardrums.
The smell of excrement was profound, and it intensified my laboured breathing. After fifteen meters or so, there was a bright gold sparkle. The instant I saw this, the chanting had stopped. I felt like all their eyes were on me. As I got closer, I saw a circular enclosure at the end of the tunnel. There were hooded brothers on each side holding a flambeau, they were all looking in my direction. In the centre of the enclosure, was an altar table which sparkled; it was made from gold and contained an opening full of strangely shaped jewels and emblems of varying colour.
There was someone sitting upright on the altar table. It seemed as though he, or she, was covered in a white sheet which was covered in blood. The stains were focussed in two regions: below the waist and close to the neck or head, which I was unable to make out.
My horror was momentarily distracted by a nude woman who stood just ahead of the altar table. Her skin was pale as snow and her hair was long, thin and black. She wore no expression, and the red dilated pupils of her eyes hypnotised me. I couldn’t help but feel drawn towards her.
I got closer and realised she was holding something; it was the severed head of an olive-skinned man.
***
I awoke in a cold sweat, and my body was shaking uncontrollably, I didn’t remember much else besides the feeling of being paralysed with agitation. Just as I managed to calm myself, I heard a knock on the door.
“Good morning, Abhi, I come bearing fruits, faithfully!” George said.
I hadn’t seen George so happy since we first met, and he couldn’t stop grinning. Wiggling his hips and on his toes, he jiggled his way into my room with a trolley.
“I hope this will suit your delicacies!” he added, while unveiling the breakfast he had bought me.
My eyes were swarmed with dazzling colours. There were raspberries, blueberries, strawberries, blackberries, two bowls of bran flakes, multigrain bread, peanut butter, milk and some fresh orange juice.
“Many thanks George! This is too much!” I said, as my stomach began to make a ‘BRAAP’ sound.
My lips were so dry, and I didn’t wait for George to leave. I went for the orange juice first and downed a whole glass instantly, then I took two handfuls of berries and chucked them in my mouth.
I then let out a huge burp.
“Excuse me,” I said.
“No no, aha, please continue. You must be so hungry. I will receive you shortly after breakfast, and you may join us in pilgrimage,” he said.
“Sure, we’re going to the Cave of Nora right? How far is it from here?” I asked.
“It’s right here Abhi, the journey will be most comforting and a great reward is promised,” George said.
When he said the Cave was right here, a small piece of multigrain toast fell out my mouth, and I bit my tongue.
“What do you mean right here?”
“You shall see my friend.”
George smiled and left the room.
It was the best breakfast that I’d had in some time, yet my apprehension did not ease. I had hoped it would all be over soon, and I would find myself in the warmth of my bed, hot chocolate on my bedside table, and a book in my hand. I don’t like judging or making any generalisations, but I’d rid myself from these strange people and their bizarre practices.
It wasn’t long before George came to get me. He barely spoke a word. In a trance, I found myself at the foot of the red room. George turned the doorknob; it was made from glass and had seen better days. The door opened with ease, and the glare from the wooden oak beneath me was blinding.
I refocused my eyes by blinking a few times and then saw candles in the centre of the room in a circle. There was a trap door in the centre. George pulled on the handle, and we both began to climb down, I could barely see him beneath me and the sound of his feet clanging on the ladder’s metal wasn’t comforting, nor was the indistinct chanting in the distance which seemed to become less audible the further we went below.
It wasn’t easy climbing down; I felt a little groggy and fatigued. My mental deprivation forced me to block out how terrified I was. Compulsion was driving me.
Soon I was at the bottom of the uninviting pit. It was far too muted.
And there I found a long passage.
George pressed forward, and I couldn’t help it as I followed him into the black hole before me. It all felt familiar, as though I’d been here before or maybe the universe was trying to decode a message for me.
I kept pinching my nose due to the foul smell coming from the walls and the depths of the tunnel. It was not something I’d ever get used to in a place like that, but it was the least of my concern. My disintegrating mind made me forget how repulsive the smell was around me, and the thing which made me forget the state of my mind, was fear.
Deep into the darkness, my vision was temporarily blurred by a growing speck of light. I could make out an enclosure as the tunnel began to widen a touch. I began to walk a little slower. George, noticing this, encouraged me to walk in front of him. I then stalled a little when I was close enough to see an altar table. It illuminated the front half of the enclosure with its gold plating and embedded jewels. I could not see much before me, and the silence punctured my soul. The air was getting colder, and it compounded my anxiety.
I must have walked another five meters when I began to make out someone sat on the altar table. It appeared to be a man in his late twenties. He wore nothing but some boxer shorts which seemed to be covered partly in blood. His mouth was taped, and his familiar eyes evoked a terrible tale of crippling misery.
It was Harry, my brother.
His muffled screams for help broke me. At one point, the tape on his mouth became a little loose, and I could make out what he was saying.
“I can’t shit bro, FFS! Let me go! I am fucking constipated!”
He carried on, “I pledge allegiance to the New World Order and the Lord of Darkness! Please leave me!” By then, George had managed to get to him and put the tape back on.
I felt my feet glued to the floor as a tsunami of emotions came over me. Why play such a mortifying trick?
I came out of my shock when I saw George bowing to something in the darkness behind Harry. Each step it took forward echoed through the tunnel, and I felt the resonance in my spirit as it came out the shadows.
It had a medium build and wasn’t taller than five foot ten. It had long, thin hands which stretched to its waist, its fingernails were pointed, and I noticed how both hands were missing a thumb. It wore no fabric, and its dark skin was tough.
It looked at me with its dark red eyes. There was no iris or pupil, just unadulterated evil.
It smirked at me with teeth which could do more than tear and rip food apart.
It pointed at me and then Harry, who had finally come to the realisation of my presence.
His cries grew louder, and he didn’t have the tape on anymore.
“Abhi! Is that you? Are you real?” he asked, clearly petrified.
I couldn’t find the words; I was completely pulverized with terror.
“Don’t leave me!” he shrieked.
“I’m sorry, I love you!” I cried.
With tears streaming down my face, I turned around and ran faster than I had ever done before. Harry screamed even louder, and I could hear him curse me as we separated.
His cries would come to a sudden halt.
It pierced my heart, but I did not look back.
* * *