So yes... just another Camerlengo story I came up with. And again I've to say that my English is not perfect. This story is just the translation of my original fanfiction written in German.

I think you should understand that little bit Italian and everything else is translated. I use the names from the book like in my other story. So if you just know the movie: Cardinal Mortati is the same person like Cardinal Strauss. Everthing else should be clear. If not, just ask me ^^

Maybe the story is a little bit puzzling at the beginning. So to explain: It starts almost with the ending.
Hm... I don't have to say anything else. So have fun reading this :D
May you leave some comments? :D

Darkness. Impervious darkness. And nothing else. Carlo felt like someone had pushed him into the ice-cold floods of an ocean. There wasn't anything but a constant whispery noise. Where...where am... I? What happened? His thoughts appeared in his mind slowly and in some way supinely. Just to form a simple notion seemed hard, to form one with any meaning nearly incredible. Carlo tried to move - in vain. He felt disembodied. Was he dead? Maybe in Heaven? Had he lost consciousness? But why?

O my God...what happened? I...I cannot remember...
Carlo tried to think about what occurred last. What was his last memory? Remember! You have to remember!
Blurry memories took form in his mind. His father...dead...Father! He destroying the fisherman's ring... A man and a woman in the popes office... Carlo didn't know, who they were, but two names appeared abruptly in his mind. Robert Langdon. Vittoria Vetra. Who are they?
He tried to concentrate, which was harder than he had thought. And...What happened next?
Then there was another picture, flashing up before his eyes. She. Crying. And he knew he was the one to bear the blame. But his memories were incoherent, didn't make sense.
Remember!
Antimatter... Conclave... For Heaven's sake, conclave! Wherever he was, he had to wake up! Immediately! But how...?
"Carlo!" the voice sounded distant. Who was this? "Carlo!"He wanted to answer, but he could not. Far away appeared a light, first dimmed then becoming brighter and brighter. The voices around him grew louder. Carlo was surrounded by blending light and felt himself brought back to this hospital...after the explosion, his mother's death. Back then he had thought he was in Heaven, now he knew he was not. Unavailingly the camerlengo tried to cover his eyes.
While the light became brighter and brighter and he sensed his vicinity more and more, something different arose... Pain. Incredible pain. Carlo never felt such agony before. It was like fire running through his veins, deflagrate his flesh, his skin...everything. His world was drowned in flames. I am burning!
A scream arose in his throat, but he remained silent...not even a chocked wheeze left his mouth. I am dying! It was over. Everything was over. God help me!
Then the light began to vanish, the darkness came back. And it took away every pain. "Carlo, everything will be all right...", a soft voice whispered quietly, like an angel. Who is this...? Did he hear the voice of God? His mother? An Angel? But he had not to know to see that it was the truth. Everything would be all right... He was in the hands of God.
Carlo fell deeper and deeper into a dark abyss, was surrounded by cold. Currently he...he...could see it. Carlo was chilled to the bone, because now he understood. This was not Heaven.

A nearly eerie silence just broken by quiet footsteps surrounded Cardinal Mortati, when he strode closely followed by Chartrand to the office of the camerlengo. In silence he nodded briefly at the young guard next to him. Yonder opened the rambling door. Out of the camerlengo's office warm sunlight which bathed the room in a friendly atmosphere flowed towards them. The cardinal let his view sweep around. A great cherry-wooden desk dominated the room, except of that, some other pieces of furniture and a cross on the wall the office seemed nearly empty. But that just brought out its dimension and let it appear brighter. In some way it seemed to match the camerlengo's personality perfectly.

Nothing here was touched since the events even Cardinal Mortati could hardly understand. It seemed like nothing had changed. Like it was all the same. But it just seemed so, that was the point. Everything had changed. And nothing was the same like before. But the camerlengo's office didn't show only one of those incredible things. It remained unchanged.
"Pack the camerlengo's personal belongings into boxes, Chartrand", he said, almost hesitating.
"Monsignor?" The guard looked asking at the cardinal.
A commiserative smile appeared on the old cardinals face. He knew the young guard had respected and liked Carlo Ventresca a lot. And the youngest events had to have shocked him. Like us all... "I think, he will not need it here, in the Vatican, any longer."
Chartrand nodded. "Natürlich, ich werde mich darum kümmern. I will see to it at once", he murmured in German.
Like Chartrand Mortati himself didn't know how to handle this situation, he had to admit he was overburdened. The camerlengo's decision had left everyone in Vatican City shocked, no one seemed to understand the youngest events. And so did Cardinal Mortati.

He nodded at the guard, before he left the room. In spite of everything happened he was anything but anxious about seeing Carlos belongings packed uncharitably in boxes in order to disappear beyond the walls of the Vatican and leave the city, its home forever. It felt simply wrong. Surely these things would find another place to belong to. But in some way Cardinal Mortati refused to accept the camerlengo's choice. No, Carlo's choice. Finally he wasn't il camerlengo anymore...

As recently as the guard had finished his work and left the office the cardinal dared coming back. The room in front of him appeared colder and more empty he had ever seen it before even if the sunlight shone brightly and warmly through the great windows. Cardinal Mortati looked at the cardboards which were filled with everything that belonged to Carlo Ventresca. Photos, clothing, a bible.
From one photography two men smiled at the cardinal. One of them was quiet young, maybe twenty years old, and wearing a simple black cassock. Unlikely for a priest his dark hair was youthfully chaotic. But his intense almost radiant green eyes didn't seem as young as he actually was. They shone with a nearly wise brightness. The older man next to him, wearing a bishop's robe, had placed his hand fatherly on the younger one's shoulder. The camerlengo and his adoptivefather ... no, his father. In the background there was a beautiful garden and afield a steeple.

Cardinal Mortati smiled slightly, when he laid the photo down. In one box he discovered an almost creased sheet of paper. Frowning he picked it up and even if it was the last he should do, started to read the accurate italic writing.

Angelo mio,

Please, promise me to read this, even if you hate me now for what I have done. Maybe we will never meet again in this life. Maybe not after it, as well. Murderers do not have a place in Heaven. But you, angelo mio.
You have to hate me now, after all I have done. How could it be different? I have done everything wrong. But I thought that I am doing the best. I thought I am doing what's God's will.
Could you expect what I was about to do? Could you see that before? Back then as we first met? Surely you couldn't. You always see the good in all the people. But that even demons can appear like angels... you did not know this, did you? No, definitely not. And so did I until now. Maybe we're not meant to discern between good and evil.
Sometimes I wish me back to the old times. It doesn't matter how aberrant these thoughts are.
Please, forgive me. I know I demand far too much. But please forgive me for the last time. Maybe I cannot even forgive myself. But now it is probably too late, when you are reading this.
I know I was blind, but I loved you. Always. And back then I hated myself for doing this, for granting you that place in my heart which should never belong to anyone but God.
Cara mia, can you believe how wrong I was? How stupid I was? I also was wrong at the time we first met. I do not know how to apologize, because there is nothing I can apologize in any way. What I have done admits of no excuse.
Maybe you can remember that time long ago? If not, I now remind you. Wasn't life easy back then? All I wish is that some day you can remember me like I was then, not like I am now...like this demon I became.

Carlo

Cardinal Mortati wondered if this letter reached the person it was meant to. Who was she? And what... No! Determined not to take a hand in this matter he shook his head. That is not your business, Saverio! After all he was not allowed to read this. Even if it didn't matter. Mortati wanted to put the letter back. While he did, he caught a glimpse of a simple leather-clad book. Without any inscription... like someone didn't want to let anyone know about its content. And actually so it was, the cardinal noticed after he flipped the book open. It was the diary of the camerlengo.
Flittering a little object fell to the floor. The blossom of a rose?, Mortati asked himself while staring at the item on the parquet floor. It had to have been for years in this book.
Before realizing what he was about to do and how wrong this was, Cardinal Mortati sat on one of the chairs and was deepened in the diary of Carlo Ventresca.

Today I first met her...