Forward
Hello, this is Joshua Ciminello. I am the author of the WORK OF FICTION you are about to read... First off, I want to thank my family who encouraged me to actually sit down and start writing some of the crazy book ideas that pop into my head from time to time. Mom n dad, this one’s for you! Anyway, once this book was picked up by the publisher, and all the contract hoops had been jumped through, the release date was finally announced. The book was sent out to a few select reviewers and others to help “plug the new release". About a week or so after the first few copies were sent out I had one of the strangest encounters of my life... Three men showed up at my door. Two were wearing black suits, obvious bodyguard vibes, and an older gentleman in some sort of Catholic preacher robes? Note: I'm not catholic, but it was fancy... I know he wasn’t the pope, but figured he was someone really important with the Catholic Church. Fancy Catholic guy asked if he could come inside to talk. I told them to wait a moment, put my dogs up and the three of them came inside and sat on my couch. One of the “bodyguards” pulled out a piece of white cloth and put it down for the priest to sit on. As I went to sit on the smaller chair across from the couch, I noticed a very nice black limo parked in the street. The priest, looking rather uncomfortable, cleared his throat and started to ask me a LOT of random questions. He asked me where I've lived, and what years I lived in this area or another. He asked me if I went to church. He asked me about any “ODD” dreams I may have, and so many other things I can't even remember 90% of what they were even about. He would ask me a question about a topic then change topics completely then go right back to the first topic. I was completely honest with him because first off, I had nothing to hide from them and, second I was basically just confused and baffled by the questions. I'm normally somewhat guarded, I don’t really like people. I also HATE feeling like I need to justify myself to anyone, yet alone a complete stranger who just showed up at MY DOORSTEP and started interrogating me. Make no mistake either, this WAS an interrogation... However, I have also never felt more at peace in my entire life than when I opened the door. I just had this odd and overwhelming sense of joy, peace, and love. It was really odd but I just wanted to tell the priest my entire life story if I could get him to stay long enough. So after two or three hours, I couldn't really remember what time they got here… The Priest closed his eyes, leaned forward, placed his hands together like in prayer and just sat there silent for probably 30 to 45 seconds. He then opened his eyes, stood up and said “Thank you for your time Mr. Ciminello. The book you wrote is a work of FICTION and nothing more. I never want it referred to as anything else, are we clear on this fact?” I slowly nodded and they left... I still have no clue what that was about, or if it was a prank from my publisher or what. However, I figured it was worth mentioning. So again I say, please enjoy this WORK OF FICTION you are about to read. Thank you
The order of Judas
Matthew 27:51
And, behold, the veil of the temple was rent in twain from the top to the bottom; and the earth did quake, and the rocks rent;
Overlooking Golgotha, the night our Savior died.
Judas watched as the man who had been a constant companion for the last few years hung there, nailed to a cross. The night before, they had broken bread together. It was like he knew even this would come. Above his head they had hung a sign mocking him as “king of the Jew’s”. The pain on his face in those final moments was just… unspeakable. Before taking his final breath, he raised his head and cried to the heavens to forgive the men who had done this to him. Finally a guard walked over and stabbed a spear into his ribs, puncturing a lung to check for water and confirming death. Judas had stayed throughout the ordeal, watching it like a nightmare unfolding. He couldn't believe it was real and stood there in shock, expecting at any moment to witness yet another miracle. It had only been a few days since the crowd had welcomed him riding into town. They laid down their coats and placed palms in the path of his mount. They begged for him to rescue them.
Ashamed and feeling a horrid self loathing, Judas wandered about the area long after the crowds had dispersed and the bodies had been removed. He found a tree, and after fastening a noose, hung himself. The fall did not snap his neck and he thrashed violently as tears filled his eyes. There was a loud crack as the rope broke and he hit the ground in a heap. Dazed, he laid there in shock. He examined the road and although good quality, it had snapped. Lost and sauntering again before finally collapsing to his knees in prostration below a star filled sky. He had felt the earth itself quake and had heard the veil of the temple rip.
All this for 30 pieces of silver... I traded the life of my savior for 30 pieces of silver. What have I done... Evil has won. There is nothing to stop evil from taking over earth. My life is forfeit. The world is forfeit. What have I done.... No. I can't leave it like this! I can't let evil win. I can't give up... God, hear me! I have failed. I was so wrong, I can't let this happen. Let me give my life in penance. Let me make this right. “God, bless this silver! Let this become the symbol of my penance. Bless this silver. Give myself and others who would take up the mantle the authority to cast the fallen back to the void. Grant us the strength, agility and foresight to stop the spread of this plague. Forever and always. Amen". As he poured out his soul and his sorrows to the heavens.
Judas Iscariot. The night Jesus was crucified.
Chapter 1
Acts 2;17
And it shall come to pass in the last days, saith God, I will pour out of my Spirit upon all flesh: and your sons and your daughters shall prophesy, and your young men shall see visions, and your old men shall dream dreams.
3:33am Sarasota FL
November.
I woke up in some cheap hotel, again. I was covered in sweat, the sheets were absolutely soaked. Despite the temperature outside being 45° and the interior of the room not being much warmer in spite of the rattling window unit on full heat. That dream, when it comes, is always the same. I must have re-lived that night a thousand times. It was the night my life changed forever. That night I met my new family... The night I was introduced to The Order of Judas.
Roanoke colony 1590.
Mother and Father were asleep. After a long day of working in the sun they wouldn’t be up until the sun rose. It's odd that I'm an only child, although Mother is lucky she survived my birth. She won't speak of it, but Father told me the fever almost killed her and left her weak, unable to get out of bed for over a fortnight. I don't mind it so much, there are plenty of kids my age in the village to play with and I don't have to share my food. It's early morning, maybe a few hours before sun up. I woke up and relieved myself in the privy near the edge of our property. On the way back to the houses I can hear the horses in the stable. They sound spooked. Maybe they smell another wolf, we have lost a few hens and a pig in the last few weeks. Father said it must be wolf's but the tracks were too confusing to follow. I planned on going back to the barn to try and calm the horses down a bit, but first I grabbed Fathers musket. I headed towards the barn while keeping a close eye on the tree line. It's a bright night, with a full moon and no clouds. I can hear an owl off in the woods behind the barn. Hopefully that's a good sign? It was chilly out here and the breeze was cutting right through me. Hopefully I can get out of this wind, and go back to bed soon. When I get to the barn, the smell hits me. It's tannic, as it hits my nose and burns my eyes. It smells rancid like copper and feces, with an overwhelming smell of... Sulfur??
Sarasota FL 3:40am
Some cheap motel I can't remember the name of.
I knew I couldn't go back to sleep, I never can after having that dream. I got out of bed and stripped the wet long sleeve thermal off while walking over to the door to peek out the window. My Jeep was still there, looked fine, and the tape was still on the door handle so I know no one has tried to get into my room. It was that kind of neighborhood, but some mugger wasn't much of a concern for me. Not that anyone knows who I am or why the Hell I'm here, but caution is a habit that has saved my ass more times than I can count over the years. 6 steps from the front door and I was into the bathroom, the stained Carpet giving way to cheap and scuffed linoleum. There's a fuzzy mirror streaked with some sort of cleaning solution to show the maid gave a half-hearted effort. The off white plastic counter top is covered in cigarette burns and the faucet and sink are crusted with hard water stains. I peeled back the thin shower curtain and unwrapped the single-use soap bar they left and turned the water on hot. Tossing the wrapper into the trashcan and setting the soap on the small ledge before I walked 3 steps back into the room, to the foot of the bed and grabbed my custom built 2011 out of my duffle bag. The duffle bag was sitting at the foot of the bed, I always sleep with my gear close at hand. Paranoid much? Perhaps, but I don't think so. I snicked off the safety and pulled back slightly on the slide to make sure there's still a round in the chamber. I then checked the red dot to verify the batteries are still good and the dot is still on "shake wake" mode. I set the pistol on the stained and burnt countertop to the right of the sink before getting into the shower.
As the water hit me I just stood there and thought. I always seem to do my best thinking, or avoiding thinking, in the shower for some reason. I half heartedly went through the motions and soaped away yesterday's failures and the cold sweats that always come with that dream. I paused briefly as the washcloth passed over the lump of scar tissue, just over my heart. I stared at the flesh raised up slightly in the shape of a cross, from the silver cross implanted over my heart when I became a full member of The Order. Hanging over that on a silver chain was a crucifix, also given to me by The Order. In the steam and the fog and the drone of the water hitting the cheap shower curtain I just stood there and thought. Finally gripping myself out of the past, far far too much of the same thing, I let out a deep sigh and lowered my head arching my back. Arms raised above my head and braced against the wall by the spigot I let the water hit the top of my head and run down the back of my shoulders. Watching the bubbles and water swirl around the drain, I thought about why I was sent here and why my target had chosen this place to begin with.
North Sarasota Florida, has Ringling art school and USF new college all within about 10 miles of each other. It's really the perfect storm for something like this. Sarasota is a wealthy area, lots of shopping, golf and beaches. There is plenty to attract tourists and retirees. The strip between the schools is sort of a no man's land. Sarasota starts to go downhill the closer you get to Bradenton. The police patrol the more visible areas so the rich will feel protected. This is further to the south of the border with Bradenton and even a bit west out on the islands, by the St Armand's circle area. Bradenton has some nice areas but they are further to the north of here. The area where north Sarasota and south Bradenton meet at US 41 and University end up as a 10 mile stretch of cheap hotels, drugs and hookers. This line in the sand rarely gets patrolled. The cops mostly look out for the colleges, and make sure the students don't get harassed by the crackheads or crazys. The colleges both have their own campus security and will get a drive-by patrol or two each night shift by local police, but for the most part the area gets left alone. Every august thousands of students flock to the area. By November they are ready for Christmas break and missing home, the two schools see the highest number of freshmen leaving and not coming back. Likely dropping out and running home, to lick their wounds. Many of the missing will go weeks, if not months before they are reported missing officially. Everything gets neatly swept under the rug because if they publicly admit the problem, the schools will go under, so a LOT gets cleaned up quietly.
It's a perfect storm and he knows EXACTLY what they're doing to keep just off the radar. He takes 6 girls every year. No more. No less. I've been following this “man" for a few years now. Hopefully this will be the last year before he vanishes again for another year. This follows his MO, and as cautious as he has been over the years, the location makes sense. I stopped aging at 25 when I became a full member of The Order but with a shave and backpack I blend in easily enough with the college crowd. I wandered through both campuses for a few weeks and saw all the signs. From what I've gathered he has taken 4 so far. 4 girls gone. That's 4 too many but that also means I have to stop him soon before I have to wait another year to get him. I turned the shower off and stepped on the cold floor wrapping a thin towel around my waist. I ran my hand over the mirror enough so I could see my face while shaving. I brushed my teeth and finished getting dressed. Wearing the basic "kid at college" outfit of blue jeans, T-shirt, running shoes and sweatshirt with a band logo on it. I grab my small kit bag, a basic Jansport backpack, load up my pistol and laptop, then head out the door. I put the top down on my Jeep and head to a coffee shop down the road.
Roanoke colony 1590.
As I stood there slack jawed and looking into the horse barn I thought to myself, something has to be wrong... There is an almost overwhelming stench in the air of rot, shit and sulfur. I must still be asleep, or have food poisoning or... I vomited and heave and vomited more, until I'm down on my knees choking and gasping for breath. With eyes that were watering, I looked back up just in time to see Etta, the old plow horse, come apart at the shoulders as her head hit the ground just feet away from me. One of her big black eyes stared at me lifelessly but I couldn't look away. Tearing my eyes off of her ragged head I looked back to see what could have caused such damage. Standing there holding onto what is left of her, head buried where her neck used to be, is a beast unlike anything I have ever seen. Cloven hoofs with knee joints bending the wrong direction. Mottled gray blue skin and patchy hair covering a torso bigger and more muscular than the blacksmiths. Its arms are entirely too long, ending in hands with only 4 fingers. Fingers that are embedded deeply into Etta's hide. The creature slowly lifted his antlered head and turned towards me, a ragged mess of meat hung from his mouth and steaming blood ran down his chin, slowly dripping onto his chest. It stopped and made eye contact with me. Its eyes locked onto mine... I couldn’t look away... The eyes, as black and as deep as a well, pierced into me. I could feel it, boring into my soul. I could feel its hatred, the malice poured off in waves. My vision began to blur and my head started to swim... Just as my vision started to tunnel into a pinpoint the head of The Beast snapped forward and one of the pools of inky blackness was suddenly gone. Smoke began to rise out of the void that used to be an eye, this all took place in an instant before its head suddenly and violently came apart. The last thing I remembered before blacking out was what sounded like repetitive chanting in a strange language.
Sarasota Fl 4:30 am
I pulled onto U.S. 41 and drove south for a little bit. The Early morning is quiet and crisp, a slight breeze coming off the sea feels nice as I sat at a red light trying desperately not to think. It is a beautiful and chilly morning but I'm still too early to “blend” at the local 24 hour coffee shop as a student. I fiddled with the volume knob and drowned out my thoughts to the sounds of Mastodon’s The motherload. The light turned green as the chorus began. I stomped the accelerator to the floor as I sang along at the top of my lungs. “THIS TIME - THIS TIME- THINGS’LL WORK OUT JUST FINE- WE WON'T LET YOU SLIP AWAY- THIS TIME THIS TImmmmmm” is all I can manage to get out before my throat begins to close up as a tear starts to roll down my cheek... “!!!FUCK!!!” I cried out as I punched the steering wheel. The wheel bent forward about 2 inches and my pinky and ring finger dislocated and snapped in a classic boxers fracture. Thankfully I had already disabled the airbag, if I ever needed to use the Jeep as a weapon I didn't want them going off in my face. I turned off the radio and shook my hand as the bones popped back into place. I clenched my fist tightly and slowly opened my hand a few times so I knew the bones were set and the tendons were lined back up correctly again. I took a few deep breaths and bent the wheel back in place. Maybe music isn't the way to go at the moment. “God”, I began to pray out loud as I kept driving south, “I know you have saved me from more than I will ever know.... Thank you for choosing me to be a warrior against the darkness. I need your strength, I have lived through and seen so much suffering... I know my work has stopped even more but there are times, sleepless nights and early mornings like this when I feel as if I am drowning and all I can see is the darkness. Help me focus on the task at hand so that I may spare others from this pain".
I pulled into a mostly empty parking area along the beach just past St. Armand circle. I got out and made sure all my gear was secure before I walked onto the beach and began to jog. I jogged along slowly and steadily but my mind wouldn't stop. Trying to separate emotions from facts I think back to that day and the beginning of my training.
Location and time unknown... 1590.
I slowly awoke to the sounds of waves lapping against a boat. There was a gentle rocking sensation. My eyes slowly opened and I squinted as sunlight poured in through a nearby window. A large man walked over and offered me a cup of water with a sympathetic smile. “whaa... where am I?” I slurred groggily. The tall thin man sat down next to me. His skin was baked from the sun and from what must have been a long voyage. “Hello”, he said, pausing for a moment to look off into the distance. “It's okay, you are safe now. You are with me, and my brothers, we can take you back to the colony’s on the mainland”. He had a slight accent That I couldn’t place but when I realized what he said I blurted out “What! No, I have to get back to my family!” I was panicking, I couldn't think straight. “No no, calm down” he said, placing a firm yet gentle hand on my shoulder and pushing me to lay back down. “You are here on my ship. You are safe... I am deeply sorry, but there is no going back. What is the last thing that you remember?” I couldn't think, it was all so fuzzy. “I.... I remember waking up and going to the barn, I heard the horses and... Ooh oh God Etta.... that wasn’t real was it? That couldn't have been”… I said trailing off. “Yes it was real I'm afraid”, he said. “You are lucky in a way, The Beast had locked eyes with you, if I hadn’t come by when I did you wouldn't have lasted much longer". He was calm and reassuring but I could see this pained him to talk about. “You killed it didn’t you?” I asked shakily. "Yes I did kill that one, however there was more, and when the battle was finally over I'm afraid you are the only one from the village to survive. They will hunt in packs at times, and with the colonies being so isolated it was only a matter of time. Just take some time to heal, and rest. I am truly sorry for your loss but please know that you are safe now, and I will explain everything at dinner. I am Simon”. He said, extending a firm and calloused hand to me. “I'm Tobias, Tobias Beale Sir". I said, grasping and shaking his hand. His words, and the loss hit my gut like a physical blow. I couldn't believe everyone I knew and loved were just gone. In a moment… I was an orphan… It felt like I was in a horrid dream and any moment I would wake up. Unfortunately, I knew what he said was true, what I had seen and felt were all too real. Simon let me be for a bit to gather my thoughts and grieve the loss of my family. He seemed shaken by this as well, although I could tell this wasn't the first time he had to have a conversation like this.
Some time later Simon and I sat down to eat, and he wasted no time getting right to the point. “Last night my brothers and I arrived in your town, we were heading to the new land, but when we got close to the island we could feel the presence of Evil. We were hoping it was an isolated occurrence and not a major outbreak, but unfortunately we were very wrong. As soon as we set foot on land we knew this would be much worse. We ran as quickly as possible to stop the evil... However, by the time we got there and could finish the battle, the Windigos had already killed every man, woman and child there. I had you carried off and placed in the landing boat. That was almost 2 days ago". Said Simon. I sat there and ate without tasting anything, despite the lump in my throat I was absolutely famished. The food tasted like ash but my body desperately needed fuel. I couldn't believe it, my entire family, everyone I knew, just gone. My thoughts swarmed my brain like angry wasps, each sting a new thought. I couldn't string together anything coherent despite trying to pay attention. “What. What did you say, something about Wendigos?? I've heard some old stories being told about them but it was just an old red-man ghost story like the spirits in the trees or the owl who”… “No". Simon interrupted. “Sadly that one is true, there are some men who will do anything for power, and Evil will always take advantage of the desperate".
Shaking my head I said to Simon. “I have no reason to go to another colony, I have no skills. I am only 13, I can't imagine why anyone would take in an orphan. Tell me Simon, what about you... You said you and your brothers fought and killed those things, is this what you do for a living?” Simon answered me. “Yes for some it is a calling.” “How can I help? I have nothing to go back to sir... If you will teach me, I want to help!” I said almost automatically. Simon began to smile and for the first time this one reached his eyes as well. “I thought you may wish to help, I was planning to offer to take you with me when we return to Rome, however I must warn you... This isn't a revenge thing, if you sign on, this is for life.... No matter how SHORT or how long that may be”… Simon told me in a very serious tone. “I'm in no matter what. What happened to me, to my family, that cannot stand. I couldn't live with myself if I had a chance to make a difference and I walked away from that”. I pleaded.
Sarasota FL 5:15 am
As I jogged down the beach I was still somewhat lost in the memories. After they dropped off a few members to the colonies we began the long Journey via boat to Rome, and then finally made it to The Vatican. The boat ride afforded us many conversations, by the time we arrived my informal training had already started. I was to be Simon’s apprentice, and while on the ship he would lecture while we exercised and sparred with each other. I remember, at the time, being completely dumbfounded by his strength, endurance, and stamina. There was only so much that we could do to train on a ship. We also talked a lot and I was amazed to find out that many of the legends were true, at least to some extent. In the middle of my jog my cell phone began to ring. Knowing it was Simon, I tapped my bluetooth earpiece and quickly answered it. “Hello Simon, I am making progress here, hopefully things should be wrapped up shortly”. I said, slowing my pace a bit. “Tobias”, said Simon, I could hear the concern in his voice. “I have something here I need you to look at, a Brother in Singen Germany, by the Swiss border was cleaning out a rather large Vamp infestation... I think the symbol was found again. I'm emailing you pictures now. I know you found the first case several years ago and I need to know what you think. If this is legitimate it seems whatever is happening is accelerating. This would be the third case in 6 months”. I let out a deep sigh, I knew why he was worried, “I will check now” I said while grabbing my phone out of my pocket and opening my email. As soon as the image file was downloaded I saw it. With my heart pounding even more than from my run I clicked and zoomed in, double checking just to be sure. “Yes Simon, this is the same thing I saw. I don't know what it means, but we need to bring The order up to speed and have everyone else be on the lookout”. I ended the phone call and I stared at the image on my phone. It was a somewhat typical vamp nest, a bit larger than normal but the most concerning part was what almost looked to be a shrine, there was a large quarter ring of candles in one corner. On the left wall at about chest high was a 30 inch tall capital D made of 3 straight lines carved into the wall colored deep red, an effect achieved by carving the letter and filling it with blood. The tip of the D where the two diagonal lines meet, also met up with the corner of the wall. On the right wall was a letter P in reverse so the tip of the D and the tip of the P met right at the corner. Not knowing what DP could possibly mean, or why we have been finding it more and more I walked back to the jeep and headed to a coffee shop. It was time to wrap things up here. I'm beginning to have a really horrible feeling about this DP thing.