<\/p>\n\n\n\n
Uncle Antonin, the would-be patron, lost track of his protegee after she and \nher maid moved to humbler living quarters at the Mayfair hotel. While \ndisappointed and unsatisfied, he felt neither guilt nor regret, knowing that \nbeing rebuffed was part and parcel of his predatory style. More often than not, \nwomen had hastily left his mansion rather than falling into temptation, but the \ndozen or so Christian virgins he had converted made everything worthwhile. Never \ndid he experience any doubt that Satan appreciated his efforts, his \nself-sacrifice in the name of the much grander prize of handing over the \ninnocent to the Beast. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
These dimensions he had been discussing at length with Cromwell, who had \ncomplimented him with being a shrewd spiritual advisor and one of the few men he \ntruly trusted. While never in doubt of the man’s sincereness, it had been a \nheartwarming but sobering experience when the magician came to him one night and \nasked for help in planning a genuine Satanic ritual. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Do you believe in Satan?” Antonin already thought he knew the answer, \nbecause the subject had been discussed at length before. He thought it unwise to \ntake anything for granted. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Well, but no,” Cromwell replied. “I believe in Satanic forces and think they \nmust be contained and not misdirected. I think Satan can contribute much to our \nexperiences, that he has much to teach and tell those willing to listen. But \nendorse him I do not, because leaving the atheist path will corrupt and diminish \nour liberty. A libertarian, that’s what I am, philosophically speaking.” <\/p>\n\n\n\n
“You do not worship the devil, then how can you in good conscience encourage \nothers to do so?” <\/p>\n\n\n\n
“I’m a magician, an illusionist. What I want you to help me create is an \nillusion so convincing and compelling that the young recruit will never suspect \nthat it isn’t really a Satanic ritual but a mere masquerade resembling one. \nMasterpiece theater is what we need, it’ll be his birthday present, and he’ll \nyet have to grow much older and wiser before the truth can be relayed.” <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Uncle Antonin looked worried. Satan did not approve of anyone using his name \nin vain, nor would he ever permit his followers to do so. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Tell me Cromwell, why cannot the Satanic ritual be genuine?” he asked. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Because it will take place at Camelot, where any such activity is strictly \nforbidden.” <\/p>\n\n\n\n
“All the merrier,” Antonin said. “Doing this in a forbidden zone will only \nintensify the experience tenfold for those who understand and appreciate such \nthings.” <\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Antonin, I’ve forsworn devil worship and black magic forever.” <\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Break your oath then, Satan welcomes you on board.” <\/p>\n\n\n\n
“It’ll be my neck,” Cromwell replied. “Never again shall a Cromwell lose his \nneck.” <\/p>\n\n\n\n
“Then you must conduct the ritual in person, enact a role play in which \nyou’re a Satanic priest,” Antonin advised. “You must not use a genuine Satanic \ngoat, no holy blood shall be spilled, then Lord Satan will understand that it’s \nnot something to be taken seriously. Maybe he’ll damn you for doing this, maybe \nhe won’t.” <\/p>\n\n\n\n
“You will help me plan it then?” <\/p>\n\n\n\n
Antonin leaned back, smiled quickly, smacked his lips together, and breathed \nout through his nose. “I’d be delighted,” he replied.
<\/p>\n\t\t","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"
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