The Archangel of a Black Feather. Al Crown
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Mount Olive, where Jesus spent his last night.
The priest did not carry enough water or food, and his body was already suffering for dehydration around 1 PM. He kept going until coming across the first lake on the left side of the trail, he rushed to drink its cold water, instantly freezing his abdomen.
PART II
His stomach was in pain. Larry’s muscular walls writhed in anguish, while he recoiled displaying a reluctant expression, “I feel sick! Cramps! How naïve I was. In my mind I have the old crypt I discovered in Italy, so cold and wet inside. The frescoes were my guide, but now! Ouch!”
Thirteen little lakes were all around the area, down east of Cypress Park, close to the triangle mountain formation he was looking for. Larry one by one tried to distinguish the lagoon for which he was longing, remembering all his notes and studies. He wrote about Friday the thirteenth, and its meaning, connected with the Knights Templar course and the number of lakes up there.
Thanks to the two Lions’ peaks, the triangle paring was possible…otherwise the male shape would have prevailed. The summits were seated as if they were scanning the west side, close to Black Mountain. For Larry it was not a mere coincidence, but a prophetic symbol perpetrated by destiny. The lions were signs of universal spiritual meaning, symbolizing the strong fire of love and courage. The lion is a proud emblem, loved and feared at the same time, while the lioness reflects maternal sensuality. Its eyes are always opened and never sleep, to guard and protect the sacred hills. Larry crooked, managing to overcome a wide bush, thrusting his right hand against the abdomen. He then surveyed: “The two Lions peaks are facing the two lions positioned on the Gate Bridge, dividing the north mountain range from the City of Vancouver. From up here it is clear. The symbol of Christ’s resurrection is a lion in the New Testament! While in the Old Testament, lions are depicted as vicious evil. What an opposite meaning and ambiguity at the eyes of God…”
The priest was mumbling, huddling strenuously his feet upon, “I did not expect all this snow, it is killing me, and my legs are so tired. My stomach is driving me crazy! I was a fool! I drank the cold water like a little kid.”
An oval-shaped lake was the one Larry needed. The lagoons were all different, and the last one was down east of Black Mountain, close to Shore Glades. A light fresh wind was blowing, while the sun moved farther west close to the island. Larry felt a sensation of solitude and isolation, neglecting the time. It was four o’clock and his legs were wasted, Larry was reproaching himself for being too confident in going up there alone. He sat, he quit, relinquishing and admiring the sunset, the last sunset of his life. A cold breeze of darkness was approaching as twilight fell on the ancestral wilder- ness, covering the triangle above his head. He stood up, trying to find the Baden Powell Trail, while he lost his religious objects.
A severe pain burst in Larry’s liver and spleen, forcing the man to walk slowly, while his hands were still alternately pushing against the left side of his abdomen. A silent prayer was following his desperation, checking in a spasmodic way the clock, 6.30 PM
An eerie mist grazed upon the leaves, emerging from nowhere. It was the Black Lagoon’s grotesque fog searching for the curious impostor. A white dense atmosphere encircled Larry, as if was touching him. He turned, hear- ing a creepy giggle, a child’s giggle. An amorphous figure was advancing, enfolded in the mist, absorbing the humidity. Larry discerned a little girl with long hair holding a red rose, slightly detached from the ground. “It’s the girl dwelling in the crypt, the frescos the flower… away from me evil spirit!
The opaque ghost freed the red rose, as if falling from a cliff. A relented downfall blossom dissolved, as did the girl. The haze condensed, ghost deliquescing in a puddle of water, while a flabbergasted priest felt its wet touch.
Larry merged his numb hand in the tiny pond, feeling a live warm water of life: “It is warm! She was alive! It is not a ghost that I saw but… blood? What is that? My Lord! Petals, those are red petals!” The clock stopped immediately, and sunset came on time. Larry felt a noise from a distance, the northwest side precisely. He whispered, “It is coming! It is true! God help me…courage!”
The resonance was approaching like a distant relentless avalanche of darkness, embodied with rolling rocks, slithering roots, and watering slashing…dragging the steps of wet logs. A strong gale was raging in Vancouver, entering through the sacristy slightly open window; papers were gradually falling on the creaking wooden floor, revealing additional information on the sunset of his life.
Uppercase omega and lowercase alpha letters were positioned facing each other, represented with the number one (the first letter of the Greek alphabet) and twenty-four (the last letter of the Greek alphabet). “1” remained “1” and “24” was transformed into “2+4 = 6.”
The previous writing was overlapped by a second one, displaying several ciphers, and the remarked letter Y juxtaposed with a cross. Besides, the letter was reverted as was the cross, followed by two names, mountain names: Mount Elsay, Mount Yasle.
Larry was petrified, clutching his only cross, hearing inverse exhale sighs. He distinguished a muttering double eldritch “suspirium” as one, and when he came closer, he realized was Latin! He was in a state of absolute terror…he was in hell.
“Ego sum hic”—Here I am! A voice was swallowing itself in the abyss of pandemonium. Larry turned around perturbed, and two yellow irises closed and opened, while a penetrating cold rock struck his left side, ripping his organs. Larry walked backward, shivering and fainting, feeling water dripping from above. His organs were on his legs, while a muffled scream came from his mouth. A hand with six sharp long rocks shattered his skull from the top, rotating inside his brain while still alive. The shattered gathered neurons forming the gray matter were transmitting the last signals of terror, using the smashed axons of the white matter. Water and fat were mingled violently by the rock blades. The man fell dead on the ground soon after, while some roots wrapped around his body, dragging the mauled corpse away from that place. A prowling contorted figure was approaching the northwest woods, retreating where it belonged…hauling and yanking behind its abominable obscurity was the rotten remains. It was plunging slowly in the death pool of endless damnation.
That same evening a person entered Larry’s sacristy, stealing from his hidden box all his precious documents and papers, walking soon after brusquely out of the room, trampling on the ground sheets. The imprint of the shoes embossed upon the documents, smearing ruinously a name, a mysterious anagrammed name.
The stranger was reciting a prayer of mourning in his aboriginal language, crossing his chest three times (three as the three hundred years of Christian persecution, before Roman Emperor Constantine recognized Christ the King of Kings).
CHAPTER III
The Outsider
PART I
September 2016. The West Vancouver sport teams were beginning the training season, welcoming the new players joining the club for the first time. The fields were located between Ambleside Park and Marine Drive, facing the spectacular North Mountains Range, and the Pacific Ocean. Stanley Park was connected to the North Shore area by the Lions Gate Bridge.
The seaside was overwhelmed by people playing volleyball on the beaches, and kids swimming in the water. Some of the guys living in the North Shore had been playing with the clubs for a long time, while others joined later, after they moved to this part of town.
One of them was a 21-year-old Claudio Verallo, who at the age of 19 moved from Italy to Canada with his widower father Giacomo and his best friend, golden Labrador Leon. His mother Lidia died on 17 September 2010 of a malignant pancreatic cancer, whereas his older sister Laura remained in Italy after obtaining a significant position in the Vatican State. Giacomo had a younger brother named Tony (Antonio) who had moved to Canada in 1996, when he was offered the chance to work as an electrician for the City of Vancouver.
After working as an apprentice electrician, Tony acquired the red seal trade certificate, becoming in time a superintendent of