gns.cannibalcult-第15部分

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search　of　the　astral　plane。
　　
　　Mark　or　Quentin　Sabat；　he　had　not　forgotten　the　technique。　He　took　a　deep　breath；　let　it　out　slowly。　Usually　relaxation　came　easily　but　not　this　time；　as　though　some　inner　obstruction　was　determined　to　prevent　him。　Quentin's　soul　was　reluctant　to　let　him　be　transported　to　the　astral。　Why？　There　was　nothing　to　fear；　good　or　evil。　The　risks　were　the　same　for　both；　the　danger　of　being　trapped　there　and　leaving　an　empty　shell　of　a　body　at　the　mercy　of　mortal　men…death　due　to　natural　causes。
　　
　　Sabat　had　to　relax　before　it　was　possible　to　concentrate。　He　tried　to　reflect　upon　his　past　life；　a　means　he　often　used。　A　turmoil。　The　shame　of　adolescence；　fleeing　to　the　protection　of　the　Church。　Another　disturbing　phase；　the　sheer　hypocrisy　of　the　Church's　hierarchy。　Was　not　Royston　Spode　an　example　of　that？　The　SAS。　Brutal　efficiency。　Learning　to　kill　and　having　no　conscience。　Catriona　Lealan　。。。　hell；　he　was　getting　an　erection　now。　Madeleine　。。。　Sabat　sweated；　became　angry　with　himself。　They　all　had　some　sort　of　hold　on　him；　had　found　a　chink　in　his　seemingly　invincible　armour。
　　
　　OK　he　was　weak；　had　succumbed　to　numerous　temptations　and　he'd　do　it　again。　He'd　join　them　in　their　Walpurgisnacht　unholy　feast；　resign　himself　to　being　one　of　them　because　there　was　nothing　he　could　do　about　it　He　would　not　fight　against　it。
　　
　　He　felt　himself　starting　to　relax。　Evil　had　found　its　own　level；　he　wasn't　fighting　it　anymore。　He　was　being　drowsy；　eyes　closing。　His　mind　was　calmer；　his　breathing　slower。　He　might　just　have　been　going　to　sleep。　Everything　seemed　so　tranquil；　such　a　natural　state　of　affairs。
　　
　　Subconsciously　he　knew　he　was　on　the　brink。　A　void　where　there　was　impenetrable　darkness；　utter　silence。　Then　a　light；　far　off；　being　brighter。　Dazzling；　blinding；　making　him　cringe。　His　relaxation　came　back　in　a　soothing　wave　and　he　was　listening　intently；　waiting　for　something；　a　signal　of　some　kind　maybe。
　　
　　He　had　no　recollection　of　having　received　that　signal；　only　that　he　was　moving。　Airborne；　hovering　up　against　the　chapel　ceiling　looking　down　on　his　own　sleeping　body；　noting　the　peacefulness　of　his　own　expression。　He　had　done　it；　he　could　travel　where　he　fancied　with　no　chains　to　fetter　him！
　　
　　He　was　naked　but　instantly　clothed　himself；　a　drab　office…type　suit；　it　would　do　for　now。　One　last　look　down　at　that　coffin　and　its　hideous　contents。　For　the　moment　Louis　Nevillon　was　dead；　he　could　not　follow。
　　
　　Sabat　was　outside；　now　in　the　form　of　a　hovering　kestrel　poised　above　the　tiny　chapel；　so　insignificant　amidst　the　giant　pines。　He　delayed；　almost　decided　to　try　and　find　Madeleine　and　Andre　Schmid。　The　latter　would　be　at　the　mune　only　a　mile　or　two　away；　the　former　could　be　anywhere。　It　was　not　worth　wasting　the　limited　time　at　his　disposal　to　try　and　find　her。　No　purpose　would　be　served　if　he　did。　He　knew　only　too　well　where　he　had　to　go。
　　
　　Soaring。　Alternately　thick　cloud　and　bright　spring　sunlight；　the　land　below　him　being　so　distant　that　it　was　almost　indistinguishable。　He　hastened　on　his　way；　a　peregrine　falcon　travelling　with　the　speed　of　an　archer's　bolt；　a　new　urgency　to　his　journey。
　　
　　Once　he　passed　another　soul；　a　middle…aged　woman　with　a　sagging　wrinkled　body。　A　recent　death；　perhaps　only　minutes　ago；　and　she　was　totally　unaware　of　her　nudity。　Eventually　she　would　learn　how　to　clothe　herself。　She　had　received　a　summons　and　she　was　answering　it　to　the　exclusion　of　all　else。
　　
　　After　a　time　Sabat　saw　nobody　at　all；　just　endless　blue　skies。　Eternity　that　began　somewhere　and　ended　nowhere。　You　just　accepted　it　and　kept　going；　didn't　think　about　it。
　　
　　Just　one　moment　of　apprehension。　Could　he　find　the　place　he　sought？　Circumstances　were　different；　he　was　different。　Then　relief　as　ahead　of　him　he　spied　the　burning　wasteland　of　a　desert　that　was　akin　to　eternity　itself；　a　parched　landscape　that　went　on　and　on。　A　place　he　recognised！
　　
　　Sabat　alighted；　changing　back　to　human　form；　a　warrior　clad　only　in　a　tattered　loincloth。　Indeed　he　would　have　been　as　well　naked。　His　bare　feet　scuffled　the　hot　sand　and　as　he　looked　down　he　found　himself　tensing；　drawing　back；　wanting　to　flee。　His　skin　was　a　dark　hue；　almost　negroid　black。　A　strangled　cry　escaped　his　lips；　a　tremor　ran　through　him；　left　him　shaking。　But；　of　course；　it　had　to　be　this　way。　In　this　land　there　were　only　two　races；　the　fair…skinned　warriors　of　Good；　the　dark　ones　of　Evil。　In　the　astral　he　had　no　choice。　He　now　belonged　to　the　scattered　forces　of　Iniquity　who　were　fighting　a　ceaseless　battle；　victors　one　day；　vanquished　the　next。　The　eternal　struggle　of　Armageddon　where　souls　suffered　and　died　but　rose　again　to　fight　the　following　day。
　　
　　Sabat　was　weary；　walking　with　bowed　head。　The　sweat　on　his　body　evaporated　as　soon　as　it　was　formed；　his　throat　was　parched；　constantly　tortured　by　mirages　of　lakes　and　streams。　This　was　hell　itself；　its　fires　that　huge　ball　of　scorching　flames　in　the　sky　above。
　　
　　He　came　to　the　scene　of　this　day's　battle；　scarcely　gave　it　a　glance　as　he　picked　his　way　between　the　strewn　bodies。　Dark…and　light…skinned　lay　entwined　after　their　bitter　hand…to…hand　struggle；　deathlocked；　the　only　movement　bloated　vultures　gorging　themselves　on　human　carrion；　watching　this　newer；　willing　him　to　stumble　and　fall　so　that　their　razor　beaks　could　gouge　and　tear　the　flesh　from　his　bones。
　　
　　Sabat　continued　on　his　way；　no　longer　trying　to　measure　distances　as　he　had　once　done　when　he　first　started　ing　here。　For　this　was　a　timeless　place　on　the　borders　of　eternity　and　only　the　Day　of　Judgement　would　bring　it　all　to　a　halt。
　　
　　The　corpses　were　fewer　now；　just　those　that　had　fled　and　collapsed　with　the　heat　and　the　agony　of　their　wounds。　On　into　the　desert；　the　sun　past　its　zenith；　scrub　trees　beginning　to　cast　the　first　of　the　evening　shadows。
　　
　　Those　shadows　were　lengthening　when　Sabat　came　upon　the　ruined　city；　crumbling　edifices　towering　above　a　wall　that　had　long　collapsed　in　places。　He　clambered　over　the　rubble；　more　wary　now　because　this　was　a　place　he　had　not　visited　previously；　a　sacked　city　where　the　inhabitants　had　either　been　slain　or　fled。　Dereliction　all　around　him；　sun…whitened　bones　littering　the　streets；　no　sign　of　life　because　even　the　vultures　had　deserted　this　place　when　the　flesh　was　all　gone。
　　
　　Sabat　did　not　know　why　he　had　e　this　far。　He　had　just　wandered　on　searching　for　something。　Often　in　past　visits　he　had　e　upon　groups　of　survivors　from　both　sides；　or　loners　crawling　away　to　die。　Today　it　seemed　that　nobody　was　left。　Armageddon　had　destroyed　itself！
　　
　　He　lingered；　would　have　returned　to　his　physical　body　had　it　not　lain　in　that　deserted　chapel　along　with　that　terrible　guillotined　corpse。　He　had　his　freedom；　even　in　a　burned…up　land　that　was　something　to　be　savoured。　He　didn't　want　to　go　back。
　　
　　Suddenly　he　heard　a　sound；　a　faint　noise　that　seemed　loud　in　a　land　of　eternal　silence；　a　whisper　that　hung　in　the　still　atmosphere；　a　rasping　cry　of　despair。　Sabat　wheeled；　saw　a　gaping　black　void　in　the　ground　that　might　have　been　the　entrance　to　eternal　damnation　itself；　a　jagged　hole　down　which　a　flight　of　broken　steps　disappeared　in　the　darkness。
　　
　　He　stepped　forward；　experienced　a　fleeting　sensation　of　terror　but　shrugged　it　off。　It　might　be　a　trap　but　it　was　unlikely。　He　peered　down　into　those　black　depths；　heard　rasping　breaths　and　the　rattling　of　phlegm　in　tortured　lungs。　Slowly；　he　began　to　descend。
　　
　　At　first　the　darkness　was　impenetrable　but　as　he　progressed　it　became　lighter；　a　murky　greyness　akin　to　that　of　a　foggy　November　morning。　He　knew　not　whence　the　light　came；　but　had　long　since　learned　to　accept　everything　in　this　hellish　land。　Down　and　down；　the　steps　twisting　and　treacherous；　until　at　length　he　arrived　in　an　elongated　dungeon　that　also　seemed　to　have　no　end。　The　contrast　in　temperature　had　him　shivering　and　he　had　almost　decided　to　reclothe　himself　in　warmer　garments　when　he　spied　the　man　slumped　against　the　wall。　And　even　as　he　stared　in　amazement　Sabat　saw　the　head　move；　raising　up；　wide　eyes　that　mirrored　pain　and　hopelessness。
　　
　　The　other's　skin　was　of　a　pallid　texture　and　even　a　warrior　of　darkness　chained　down　here　for　long　periods　could　not　have　had　so　sickly　a　plexion。　Long　fair　hair　or　was　it　grey？　It　was　difficult　to　be　sure　in　this　half…light。　Wasted　flesh　had　rendered　the　frame　virtually　skeletal。
　　
　　'I　knew　somebody　would　e　one　day。'　The　voice　was　strained　yet　mellow。　'I　heard　your　footsteps　above；　stranger；　yet　even　you　cannot　help　me　for　I　cannot　return　to　my　own　people。　I　see　you　are　one　of　the　dark　ones。'
　　
　　'Why　are　you　here？'　Sabat　was　curious；　noted　that　this　man　was　not　chained　to　the　wall　like　the　long…dead　skeletons　he　could　see　on　the　other　side。　'Surely　you　could　have　escaped。　Even　frail　as　you　are；　you　could　have　crawled　up　those　steps　into　the　open！'
　　
　　'No；　I　cannot；　I　dare　not　leave　here。'　A　pathetic　whine。
　　
　　'Can　you　not　return　to　the　white…skinned　forces　who　live　and　die　daily？'　Sabat's　eyes　narrowed　and　again　he　suspected　a　trick　of　some　ki