LORD SCALES. You floated down the stairs? Perhaps you were still asleep. Did you have dreams about this orb? Could you have dreamt it?[i]
RICON. No. It wasn’t a dream.
LORD SCALES. How do you know it wasn’t a dream?
RICON. I remember: it wasn’t a dream.
LORD SCALES. You are quite sure of that?
RICON. Yes, I saw it.
LORD SCALES. But are you sure it was reality?
RICON. Quam certissime. [As sure as it can be]. I saw it with my own eyes; it lit up the whole precinct. I thought the moon had fallen down.
LORD SCALES. It was real?
RICON. It was real! I saw it!
LORD SCALES. So you floated down the night stair.
RICON. Yes, I floated – out into the cloister, down the alley, through the passage and across the precinct toward the abbot’s lodging.
LORD SCALES. You went by your own volition?
RICON. No: I was taken there.
LORD SCALES. By the orb?
RICON. First it was an orb – then it turned into hat, and then a trencher.
LORD SCALES. The orb turned into a trencher? What, of bread?
RICON. No! Of light!
LORD SCALES. A trencher of light? What do you mean to say? Like a shining disc?
LORD SCALES. Then what happened?
RICON. Then the creatures appeared.
LORD SCALES. Creatures? You mean nocturnal animals? Bats? Frogs? Or owls, perhaps?
RICON. No. They were not of this Earth.
LORD SCALES. Were they comely?
RICON. Not by any means; they were exceedingly ugly, pale and altogether quite monstrous!
LORD SCALES. Yet Jacques Vallin insists they were angelic.
RICON. On the contrary, they were Demonic.
LORD SCALES. But how do you know?
RICON. The moment I set eyes on them, I knew. When they came out of the disc, I froze in terror.
LORD SCALES. They came out how? Down steps?
RICON. No, they floated.
LORD SCALES. Like feathers?
RICON. Not exactly. Their legs were moving, but they hovered above the ground – as if they were treading water.
LORD SCALES. And how many demons were there?
RICON. I counted three.
LORD SCALES. They came out all together?
RICON. No, one by one. Oh! Terrible! I was turned to stone.
LORD SCALES. And what did these demons want?
RICON. They asked to see my lord.
LORD SCALES. They spoke with you?
RICON. Yes, but they had no lips.[ii]
LORD SCALES. Yet they spoke? How?
RICON. We spoke mind to mind.
LORD SCALES. In Latin or French?
LORD SCALES. Extraordinary. And as an Adamite, you thought these demons were of God – just as the Devil is of God? [iii]
RICON. No, these demons were not of God.
LORD SCALES. What makes you so sure?
RICON. My heart told me.
LORD SCALES. I see. And what did your heart say?
RICON. Be afraid! Be very afraid!
LORD SCALES. Fear of God is one of the seven virtues. Ergo, how do you know they were not of God?
RICON. Believe me, they were not of God.
LORD SCALES. What did they look like?
RICON. Hideous. They were like wild he-goats with fiery eyes, and gangly arms that almost touched the ground… Yet they were not all there.
LORD SCALES. Not all there? How so?
RICON. They were transparent – like isinglass.
SATYR. And you spoke to these creatures in Latin, you say?
RICON. Aye, Latin.
LORD SCALES. You used your mouth?
RICON. No, I’ve already told you! They read my thoughts!
LORD SCALES. And what were your first words to them?
RICON. The Paternoster!
LORD SCALES. These demons were clearly no illusion. But perhaps you did not meet them in the material body. Perhaps, like Jacques, you travelled in an aerial body – that vaporous part of yourself, which issued out of your mouth whilst you were sleeping, and by the existence of which, you were in two places at once… After all, the laws of space and time do not exist for the mind, and the aerial Body of which I speak moves with the swiftness of thought. So perhaps you were dreaming after all. ‘Whether in the body, or out of the body, I cannot tell,’ said Saint Paul.
RICON. No, I was in the body, most assuredly so.
LORD SCALES. How so?
RICON. Because I cut my left foot on a spade by the abbot’s lodging. I still have the scar to prove it…
LORD SCALES. I see. And then what happened?
RICON. I called for my father and ran upstairs; but his chamber was empty. ’Twas then I saw the trap-door lying open by the hearth.
LORD SCALES. You went inside?
RICON. Of course. I had to get away. The demons were coming up the stairs; and things were flying about the room.
LORD SCALES. What things?
RICON. Goblets, plates, spoons, knives, buckles—all whirling in the air. So I lit a torch by the fire, then entered the trap, closing the latch behind me. I ran down the stairs as fast as my legs would carry me. Round and round I went, twenty fathoms down, into the depths of the catacombs.
LORD SCALES. Did you find the ossuary of deformities?
RICON. Aye! A terrible place! Terrible!
LORD SCALES. And the Titan skull?
RICON. A fearsome thing to behold! ’Twas then I heard footsteps in the darkness…
LORD SCALES. Aye, go on…
RICON. I turned to see a light flickering in the abyss. I called out for Lazarus. My echo rang ten times over, down and down, and still on down. But there was no reply. I felt forsaken and utterly alone. Then came the same eerie tones I heard in the abbey, ringing all around. I was so overcome with dread, I could barely string my thoughts. At that moment I supposed myself dead and within the muzzle of the Hellmouth. I longed to turn back, but feared the demons had followed me.
LORD SCALES. You saw them?
RICON. No, but I sensed them, creeping on their gangly legs. I prodded the gloom with my torch and sought a way forward. There were tunnels leading off in all directions. I slipped and stumbled many times, for the rocks were wet and slimy. After wriggling down a narrow sump, I spied a ghostly light gleaming through a chink. ’Twas pale and cold like the moon. I scaled a rift and crept toward it. My flesh tingled with fear. Before me was a gaping tunnel, full of light. And there was a figure in the distance…
LORD SCALES. Who did you take it to be?
RICON. Lazarus. His horned silhouette was unmistakable. Then a terrible suspicion arose in my mind: that Lazarus had summoned the demons himself, and I was just a pawn in their evil game. I should tell you, that light was eerie. Very eerie. The dimensions of the deep were so vast and formidable that they made me reel in awe. I determined to turn back and hide in a hollow. But then my torch snuffed out in a wind. I was lost in the darkness. There was no going back. I had no choice but to go on, toward the mysterious light. So I followed Lazarus into the tunnel…
LORD SCALES. Describe it to us.
RICON. ’Twas like a bridge over chaos: a viaduct of rock, that stretched across a yawning abyss. The pavement span was twelve feet wide with fatal fosses either side, exceedingly deep, dark and dreadful. Great cliffs of iron-grey rock sprung from the chasm, full of winding hollows, pillars and passages. Limestone walls towered above, and arched overhead like ribs of melted wax. ’Twas all glistening in spectral light, with rocky spurs and clefts. I could see a great orb hovering at the tunnel end; I cannot tell why, but I was drawn toward it.
LORD SCALES. And being the fool that you are, you followed after…
RICON. Indeed my lord. I could not help myself. I had no choice in the matter. I was compelled to follow. Even though the light was terrible, it was also very beautiful.
DEMON DOCTOR. Objection my lord: I think this statement is completely worthless; it has about as much value as the confession of a witch who swears she was dancing with Satan whilst her husband held her sleeping body, clasped in his arms.
LORD SCALES. Overruled. The witness has already convinced me that he was neither dreaming, nor in the aerial body, as is evidenced by the scar on his left foot. Continue Ricon.
RICON. Demon doctors, I know it sounds like a dream; but ’twas not a dream – as Lazarus will testify himself. For he was surely on that bridge as you are standing here now.
JACQUES. Ricon speaks the truth. He called me by name.
RICON. Aye, I did. I pleaded with him to return, but to no avail. He just ignored me and ran ahead. I followed him for a thousand paces or more, across the bridge to the other side. But then he vanished behind a buttress. What happened next was most mysterious, for the light began to sink down a great hole.
LORD SCALES. Describe it to the court.
RICON. Well, I say hole, but ’twas not a natural hollow. ’Twas more like a gaping well, wider than the nave, with hewn walls, rimmed with giant steps.
LORD SCALES. Steps? What, you mean like a spiral staircase?
RICON. Not exactly my lord, no.
LORD SCALES. You are not making any sense. It had steps which spiralled downward?
LORD SCALES. Well that sounds like a spiral staircase to me.
RICON. If you would just let me describe the mouth of this antediluvian well: ’twas like the funnel of a pitcher plant, some eighty feet across and set with radial tablets of stone, cut with such precision as to make the joints almost invisible. But the steps did not meet in the centre – they were set around the perimeter; whilst the shaft went down the middle – just like a well, as I said before. It spiralled down and down, deep into the bowels of earth – further than the eye could see. Deep calleth on deep, and I was sore afraid to stand near the edge of that bottomless hole, for the incline, which was shallow at the outer rim, dropped off to vertical in a matter of yards. The only way in or out were the aforementioned steps, but these were too vast for mortal feet, and could not be scaled without ropes.
LORD SCALES. Just how big were they?
RICON. I estimated each step to be more than twelve cubits high.
LORD SCALES. Extraordinary. And what did you take this Cyclopean edifice to be?
RICON. I couldn’t tell what it was, or who had built it. But it scared me. I thought it would swallow me whole; it made me giddy just to stand near it. And far below, that ghostly orb was still descending, glimmering in pits of dark. Yet there were other smaller orbs spinning above, turning in gyres amid the stalactites – the very pillars of the earth.
LORD SCALES. And where was Jacques? Sorry, I mean Lazarus – as he was called then – where was he?
RICON. He was standing on the outer rim, communing with a most terrible beast.
LORD SCALES. Beast? What beast?
RICON. ’Twas the size of a cow and black as coal, with great paws and claws, rearing up on its hind quarters. Lazarus was speaking in tongues, running his hands through its fur. When I saw the big eye of him, and his scaly legs, I called on Jesus Christ.
LORD SCALES. An Adamite calling on Christ? You jest!
RICON. I was fickle and weak.
LORD SCALES. You were nothing but a faithless sceptic! And your Adamite faith was naught but a contrivance to indulge your illimitable satyriasis! How terrified you must have been, to call on The Christ!
RICON. I approached Him on my belly as a worthless worm. And I begged him to quell the beast. For the faithful say that in the name of Jesus every knee shall bow, of angels that are in heaven, of men that are on earth, and of devil’s under the earth.[iv]
LORD SCALES. And did the beast bow?
RICON. No, it roared – then Lazarus came at me like a ravenous wolf…
JACQUES. That’s a lie! He crept up behind me. There was no beast. I was communing with the Light.
LORD SCALES. And what did the Light say?
JACQUES. I it am, the might and the goodness of the Fatherhead; I it am, the wisdom and the kindness of the Motherhead; I it am, the light and the grace that is all blessed love; I it am, the Trinity; I it am, the Unity; I it am, the high sovereign goodness of all manner things; I it am that maketh thee to long; I it am, the endless fulfilling of all true desires… [v]
RICON. I it am, the devil! Trinity? What a load of shit! ’Twas a snarling beast, I tell you!
JACQUES. This Adamite is blind to all manner of spiritual wisdom. I was in ecstasy.
DOCTOR BUCKET. Ecstasy? Are you sure?
JACQUES. Yes. I was bathed in a great Light, wherein my soul was utterly submerged and immersed. But Ricon broke my trance; and when I awoke, his hands were about my neck.
LORD SCALES. Is that true Ricon? Remember: you are under oath.
RICON. My lord, I cannot recall precisely what happened. But I know this: I was in fear of my life. We struggled and fell; rolled over several times. ’Twas a desperate dirty fight, full of clawing, gouging and biting. Somehow I got the upper hand and pinned Lazarus between my thighs. I sat upon his chest and grabbed a rock. As Christ is my witness, I was about to smash his skull but something struck me from behind: the rock flew from my grasp and I was flung towards the precipice.
LORD SCALES. Flung? By who? Lazarus or the beast?
RICON. Forgive me my lord, but I see no distinction between them, as both are agents of the Devil.
KREW. Objection! This Adamite is in no position to hold judgement over the accused. And his wicked attempt to influence the jury should be struck off the record.
LORD SCALES. I concur with the Cyclops. Scribe, strike that last remark from the transcript. Ricon, you will leave your personal opinions of the accused out the matter and restrict yourself to answering the questions. Any attempt to sway the verdict will not be tolerated. Let us continue from your previous statement. You had been flung by an unknown agent toward the precipice. Would you please give an account of what happened next.
RICON. I landed several yards away, perched on the funnel rim. Then slowly but surely, like a fly in a pitcher, I began to slide inward. The stones were smooth as glass. Try as I might, I could find no purchase. I begged for mercy but Lazarus just stood there, cold and unmoved.
SATYR. He did naught to save you?
RICON. Save me? The fucker killed me!
SATYR. Do you deny it Jacques?
JACQUES. He got what was coming. Besides, he had discovered the souterraine, so how could I let him return to the abbey? The abbot’s alchemy was afoot. Telluric currents were stirring…
LORD SCALES. You think the Janus summoned Grazide?
JACQUES. – Or Grazide summoned him. I would have followed her orb to the bottom that night, but Ricon followed instead. In death. I watched him struggle for a while, grappling for a foothold. He pleaded for forgiveness but I had none to give. All I could hear was Margot whispering: “Kill him!” My poor dead mother; I had to avenge her Cistercian prostitution; her sordid nights in the gorge, sating the flesh of this Adamite whoremonger! So I stamped on his fingers and watched him plummet like a stone.
RICON. Murderer! He admits it! He condemns himself! And he doesn’t even care!
JACQUES. Ricon, you must be a fool to imagine that your death draws any tears from me. Return to Hades, you filthy dog.
i. The dialogue for this exchange is based on the hypnotic regressions of many “UFO” abductees. For example, see ‘Final Report on The Experience of Cesar Augusto Valdivieso’ Arial Phenomenon Research Organisation [APRO microfilm reel 1 – Peru, 1952.]
ii. Here ends the exchange based on the previously mentioned reference(s).
iii. Of course, historically, the “Adamites” were not known as such in southern France. But in 1335, during the trials at Carcassonne, a shepherd name André Cicéron confessed to saying Mass naked so as to invoke the demonic powers necessary to make a magical salve from the Eucharist, insisting that this was how Adam sacrificed. This foreshadows the doctrines of the fifteenth-century Adamites in Bohemia. (Witchcraft in the Middle Ages, by Jeffrey Burton Russell, p.181). Just because there is only historical evidence of a sect in one particular location at one particular time does not mean that their doctrines were not practiced by others at an earlier time. In this particular context “Adamites” also refers to Abbot Adam, the leader of the sect, who is an allegorical embodiment of both Lilith and Adam, and his heretical belief in the preadamite world.
iv. Philippians, 2:10.
v. Mother Juliana of Norwich.
Copyright © Nicholas Shea 2010 (including Nefilim cinematic visual montage).