CHAPTER I

THE TEMPLE

BY BARRY REESE

Tibet - April 1933

The snow was blistering, whipping past the exposed portion of his face. He had no idea how far below freezing the temperature was, nor did he truly care. The horrors of the expedition lay far behind him now… ahead lay the summit of his dreams, the culmination of years of study and research.

Inch by inch, he ascended the side of the mountain. His muscles ached from the exertion and there was a pounding in his ears that threatened to overwhelm him. "Just a little bit more," he whispered to himself. Those words had been a mantra for him, repeated over and over again over the last few days. They were the only words he'd spoken since the last of his expedition party had died screaming in the frozen wastes, torn apart by-

He pushed those thoughts away from his mind. There was no point in dwelling on those who had lost their way along the path. After all, he'd known it would come to this in the end.

Of all those who had undertaken the search for Lucifer's Cage, none had shared his dedication. This was far more than a mere archaeological quest; this was the end of a spiritual journey that had begun in his freshman year at the university. He'd found one particular professor who'd opened his eyes to the glories of the past, to the forgotten lore of the world. There was a secret history at play, one that kept in the shadows by men who embraced science over spiritualism. Jacob Trench had found this new world beguiling. He had devoured every text his professor could put before him and had then abandoned the university altogether, realizing that the kind of knowledge he sought would never be learned in a classroom setting. To the ends of the world he'd traveled, selling everything he'd ever owned, betraying his parents' good faith until they no longer could trust him with money.

And it had all led him here, to the snowy mountaintops of Tibet.

Jacob pulled himself over the edge of the mountain with a grunt, his hands feeling like two huge blocks of ice within their gloves. Rope was slung over one shoulder, a mountain axe held tightly in the fingers of his right hand. He felt naked as he rose to stand before the temple, like he'd come unprepared to an important meeting. "Just a little bit more," he whispered, a smile making his frozen lips crack open.

Staggering, he pushed past the wooden door, not even noticing that it was open already, as if someone had been expecting him. Jacob felt heat radiate from within, warming the blood in his veins. The temple consisted of only one large room, with a series of mats along the exterior of both sides of the room. These were for the monks whose task it was to guard the sacred relic housed here…but there were no monks to be seen today. Jacob felt this was a good sign.

In the center of the room lay a single pallet, upon which rested a small wooden pedestal. Atop the pedestal was a crystalline object, about the size of a milk jug. A fiery red glow emanated from the interior of the object and Jacob felt himself growing stiff in his trousers, his penis responding to some horrible lust for the thing before him. He could feel the touch of women all over him, could smell their sex and their perfume. A laugh rang through the room, like the beckoning call of a whore, summoning him into her bed.

Jacob fell to his knees, his legs unable to bear his weight any longer. His shaking hand reached out for the object, his dry tongue snaking out to lick at his cracked lips. An awful yearning made him whimper like a starving child, desperate for sustenance.

Just before his fingertips made contact with the crystal, a wooden staff came down hard on his hand, shattering his knuckles. Jacob howled in surprise and pain, twisting around to look at the source of the attack. There was a man there, dressed in black robes. The man's bald head was speckled with liver spots and his long white beard trailed down past his waist, curling at the end.

Jacob pushed himself backwards awkwardly, unable to stand. He fumbled in his clothing for the pistol he knew was there but he couldn't seem to find it and the old monk was fast approaching, staff raised high. His broken hand throbbed painfully and his other hand no longer seemed capable of functioning.

"Please," Jacob pleaded, his eyes fastened on the end of the staff. He could easily imagine it splitting his head open like a watermelon. "I've come so far…."

The old man paused, his lips parting in a leer. Rotten teeth were exposed to Jacob's eyes and a scent like spoiler meat seemed to pour forth from the man's mouth. "You think you have suffered?" he asked, his English sounding thickly accented.

Jacob blinked in relief. If the man spoke English, he could be reasoned with. "I've come looking for Lucifer's Cage. I want it," he explained, knowing how foolish he must sound.

The old man nodded slowly, the staff still raised. "You are the first to make it so far in centuries. All those who have come before you since my master built this temple have died, either on the mountainside or just outside the temple. I have slain many myself. Others have died by Yeti."

Jacob nodded, the fingers of his non-broken hand finally finding hold on the gun. He didn't draw it out, but he felt confident he could do so before the man struck again. "I saw them. They attacked us."

"But you fled, leaving your fellows to be eaten." It was not a question and Jacob didn't answer, though his eyes widened. The old man began to lower the staff. "You bankrupted your parents to fund your research, murdered your professor in cold blood so you could take his papers and now you have betrayed the fools who came with you in search of the great prize. Is all this true?"

"Yes, it is. How did you know?"

The old man laughed and it sounded like the cracking of dry leaves. "Because I have waited for you. You are the one." He gestured towards Jacob's wounded hand. "You have not yet begun to suffer. But in time, you will gain the favor of our master and you will free him from his prison. He slumbers, waiting for your voice to awaken him."

Jacob turned back to the crystal. Its glow once more reached into his soul and stirred him. "I'll do anything."

"Such passion," the old man chuckled. "It will serve you well in the days and weeks to come. Rise, Jacob Trench. I am K'ntu and I will prepare you."

TO BE CONTINUED...

Lucifer's Cage stories & The Rook © Barry Reese. HTML © Tim Hartin.

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