Disclaimer: None of the characters are mine. Only the plot.
Thank you for reviewing.
I'm sorry if the facts in my fic aren't correct. I've never been to Jerusalem so I've never seen St. Anne's church inside and I don't know if the church is still in use.
I know this is a bit late but I had a huge writer's block. I do hope you enjoy and please let me know if you do.
The Darkened Heart
He still couldn't believe it although he had known it more over eighteen hours already. There was nephilim blood in him. A part of him was something he had been taught to hate from his childhood. He had forgotten to ask her which one of his parents she was related to not that it would make any difference for the outcome was still the same. Perhaps he would never know. Perhaps it was one of the things that were better left unknown, hidden somewhere in the labyrinth of human mind.
He had been forced to sleep over the night because St. Anne's church was already closed by the time he got back to his hotel. Without another thought he had let himself fall over the bed and had been asleep almost immediately. He had slept better than in a long while and woken up rather late this morning. He had used his free time walking the streets of the Old City of Jerusalem and when it had been closer to 3:30pm he had returned to his hotel.
He had taken his Boran X from his hotel room and now stood in front of St. Anne's church wondering whether or not to go in. If he wouldn't go soon the church would be closed. The church itself wasn't very ornamental but he felt eerie standing in front of the building. It's magic wasn't created by large icons and gloriously decorated statues of angels and their battles with the darker side. It was the very feeling one caught standing near to the church and Kurtis had to admit he felt the same way when he was visiting his father's grave. Here as well as there he had the feeling that he was being watched. He turned around trying to see a glimpse of someone disappearing behind a building or fading in the shadows but he had never been able to see anyone. In the end he knew there were three options: there really was no one there, they could read his mind and hide quickly enough or they were invisible. Before the stay in Lara's mansion he wouldn't even thought the last option possible but now it seemed there really were invisible beings not bound by the rules of this earth.
Carefully he opened the church door hoping he'd find someone inside. The church was dimly lit by candles leaving room to shadows and totally dark corners. He walked down the aisle and though he had never had enough time to study architecture he had to admit that the interior of the church was breathtakingly beautiful. The aisle was lined with pure white pillars and on top of them were painted pictures carved to the wall. There was a single, large painting in the church right at the end of the aisle. There was a woman in the painting but she wasn't the thing that caught Kurtis' interests - it was the carvings above the pillars. Each one of them portrayed the same angel in a different stage or at least Kurtis thought it was the same angel. In the first he had his wings, white and beautiful and he looked longingly at something beyond the borders of the painting obviously wanting to reach it but something held him back. The one next to it showed the angel looking down from the heaven admiring earth and all of its beauty. Stage by stage the pictures showed the angels corruption and his wings turning to black. In the last one the angel was desperately trying to hold on to a cloud while a demon tried to pull him down from heaven. The angel's eyes were filled with fear and they seemed to have lost the spark they held in the first picture. He knew what was coming and also that he had brought it down on himself but to the very end he fought against his fate. Kurtis knew the story portrayed in the pictures far too well. He had had all his childhood to learn it. It was the story of how the Nephilim came to be and how the angels who brought them into existence were punished. Doomed to an exile from the heaven cause of their lust and love.
"Can I help you son?"
Kurtis almost jumped when he heard the voice right behind him and turned around almost expecting that no one would stand there. He was startled when he saw there was a man standing there, a man in his late thirties wearing common clothes, and was secretly thankful for remembering to put his coat on to hide his weapons. Kurtis knew he was a priest from the way he had called him but there were no other signs of it. The man had once had brilliant black hair and now there was some gray in them. His eyes were green, warm and understanding. He wore quite large eye glasses and had a small beard.
"Actually you can, father." Kurtis had never really liked the son-father language used in church but he was willing to give in this one time for he needed the priest's help.
"I see you are interested in the art of this church"
"Quite" was all that Kurtis answered. "Do you understand them?" he asked a little while later.
"There have been many who have tried to learn their meaning but they've all just given up in the end"
"What do you think?"
"I have always thought they portray the fact that innocence is easily lost and there is a little seed of corruption in everyone, even angels. There's something mysterious in them" Kurtis just nodded and let the priest continue "In the story they tell the angel realizes too late that he went over the border and desperately tries to repair the damage he's done. But there's no absolution for him anymore. He used his chance and ended up with wings as black as coal as punishment for crossing the line"
Kurtis nodded again. "That's what I thought" he said lying a bit. He had no meaning to tell the priest about beasts called the Nephilim. He didn't need to know and Kurtis wasn't about to shatter his thoughts about the world. "What about the woman in the painting? Who is she?"
"She is thought to be Anne, Jesus' grandmother. This church has been built on the spot where her and her husband Joachim's house was located or at least it's believed it was located here. This church was built by Crusaders around 1140 after Christ's birth and in the late 12th century it was turned to Islamic Law school by conquerer Salah el-Din. In 1856 after the Crimean war the Sultan of Istanbul offered the church to French government as a token of gratitude for their assistance during the war. The French government restored the church putting it as close as possible to its original form. Another restoration was performed in 1967"
Kurtis really didn't need any history lesson of events that were true only partially but he let the priest go one if there just happened to be a hidden point in the story somewhere.
"Today she stands as a symbol for all those women who in spite of injustice, suffering and death keep on hoping and passing on life"
Coming to the realization that their conversation wasn't going to lead anywhere Kurtis quickly changed the topic.
"Why is it that people have wanted to bring in to the light the mystery behind the pictures so badly?" he asked still looking at the painting of Anne.
"Through the centuries the art of this particular church has astonished everyone who have stepped through the doors, even the art historians. The reason, I think, lies in these pictures carved in the stone and the tale they tell. There's nothing strange in the painting of Anne because this church is dedicated to her memory but the idea behind all the other art work in this room is very much questioned. They're not usual church art because they portray how even something so heavenly as the angel is weak in spirit and has flaws of human beings. Even more strange is the fact that God banished him from the heaven even though he's supposed to forgive sins if he is asked to and I believe the angel asked and even begged but still he wasn't judged in the same way as human beings with whom he had wanted to walk among. Some art historians claim that the angel in question was envious of humans' free will and for once wanted to feel something he wasn't entitled to. Someone has even said that the pictures should be read from the end to the beginning and so they would portray hope but then the question why is he looking somewhere so longingly remains"
"So it is a mystery that has never been solved". It wasn't a question. It was just a simple statement. The priest just nodded as if waiting Kurtis to continue. When the continuation never came he decided to break the silence.
"In the end it all comes to the very humane want to have everything, even the things that are forbidden" Noticing his mistake the priest corrected himself. "Mostly the things that are forbidden. It's about the little seed of doubt about grass being greener on the other side in each one of us"
Kurtis sighed. "Are there any stories about this church? 'Cause I've always been interested in them", he lied a bit but thought that what the priest didn't know couldn't hurt him.
"Strange that you happened to ask that. Some of the people who have worked here late in the evening have sworn they've heard voices"
"Voices?"
"Wailing, begging, crying soft voices filling the room. No one has managed to understand what the voices are saying but they've said that desperation and pleading are so evident in the voices. Sometimes they've been heard to scream so loud that the people had to seal their ears not to hear the sound anymore. The ones who said they've heard the voices said they couldn't sleep the few following nights hearing the sobbing in their heads. What I've heard is that the pain in the voices is so strong that some of the people who have heard it have had headaches and seen the angel cry" At this point the priest stopped as if to see would Kurtis laugh but to his amazement the American didn't even smile. When he didn't hear a thing the priest continued. "At first you might think that they have lost their minds but if you look at the pictures really close you can see the faint lines caused by tears under his eyes"
Kurtis walked closer to one of the paintings but couldn't see much because it was way too dim but somehow he believed the marks were there. Perhaps the angel still did cry at nights not because of the pain in the voices but because of the knowledge that he had been one of the angels that had brought these monsters in existence and caused them their pain.
"There is an altar dedicated to St. Anne in a crypt below this church and it symbolizes..." the priest never got to finish his sentence because he found Kurtis' hand in front of his mouth as a sign to stop him from speaking.
Almost silent sigh filled the church and was soon joined by another voice which was only a little louder but the acoustics of the church made it sound like loud moan. Kurtis stepped back but found his way blocked by a pillar. The priest didn't move and stood where he was like a statue of salt unable to move. If the situation would've been something different Kurtis would've found the priest's way of action strange. A man who had taught all of his career others to believe in something that couldn't be seen or heard was now afraid because he heard voices not from this earth. Then something happened that neither of them had been expecting: A loud wailing and screaming filled the church forcing both of them to try to protect their ears. It was then when Kurtis felt something moist dropping on his cheek. First he didn't care about but soon another drop followed. In spite of the noise he moved his other hand and touched the liquid. It felt sticky and when he looked at his hand there was blood on his fingertips. Quickly he stepped away from the pillar and looked at the painting of the angel. Instead of droplets of tears the angels eyes formed droplets of blood. He turned around to look at the priest who stood there mouth open, hands on his ears staring at him or better said staring behind him, staring at the angel.
Suddenly the voices grew quieter and both of the men lovered their hands to their sides and stood for a moment without making any noise. Only thing that could be heard was the almost silent howling noise in the background. As Kurtis watched the priest he noticed that the man's eye glasses were broken.
"Erm...your glasses", he said walking closer to the priest and pointing at the broken eye glasses. The priest just stared at Kurtis as if he was air. It seemed that the man of the cloth couldn't really hear the American and Kurtis had to admit he felt a bit sorry for the man. The priest's world had collapsed because of one voice, all lost because of one damned voice. Kurtis reached out his hand and shook the priest's shoulder thus making the man look at himself. What Kurtis saw in the priest's eyes shocked him. The warmth that had resided in them was gone and his eyes were just staring in front of him. It was certain that the man was in shock. Sure that the man wouldn't know or even remember he took his Boran X and slammed it against the priest's head sending him into oblivion. Looking at the motionless body on the floor Kurtis felt a little sting of conscience.
"Sorry but that's the best place for you now", he said and put his weapon back into its holster. He looked around anxiously trying to catch something little out of ordinary to his sight. "There has to be something in here", he muttered to himself. Carefully he searched the walls trying to find a lever of some kind, a mechanism that would open a secret passage. After he had searched a while he understood that there was nothing in the room, at least not on his level. He had tried to pull the everything that looked a little bit of lever ending in breaking a candelabra. He had even used his farsee ability to search the roof and upper walls. Nothing seemed to trigger anything. He was already giving up when he remembered the priest's words. Something about a crypt with an altar dedicated to St. Anne. Where was it? What had the priest said about it? Was it below the church? The door! There had been a door near the main entrance which Kurtis at the time had thought to be a closet of some kind. Now that he thought of it the idea of a closet in a church like this sounded very strange. He rushed to the door and opened it only to be greeted with inhuman shrieking voice what made him loose his hold on the door and cover his ears. He yanked the door fully open with his foot and descended the stone steps to a small room with a shrine standing in the middle of it. The crypt itself was round and somehow very distressing. In this place Kurtis felt as if death itself was present lurking in some corner just waiting its chance to harvest more souls. The shrine had a rock incorporated into it. In front of the shrine was an area surrounded with rocks and in the small circle inside the small stones was nothing except smooth stone. The shrine itself was a large stone that looked like it had grown from the ground. When he got closer to the shrine a loud scream filled the room forcing him once more to block the noise from entering his ears.
He didn't know how long it had taken the screaming to stop but eventually it died as suddenly as it had began and again Kurtis moved closer to the shrine and especially the magnificent glowing stone incorporated in it. In some strange way he felt drawn to the stone as if it was calling out for him. The glow emanating from it was soft and filled with serenity the rest of the crypt so badly screamed for. Kurtis reached out and touched the stone's surface feeling strange warmth flowing from it in to himself like it had been waiting for the touch many years. At the same moment the warmth disappeared Kurtis heard a grinding sound as if something heavy was moved. He laid his eyes on the small circle of stones and gasped when he found out that the smooth interior that had been there no more existed. In its place was now a hole and stone steps leading downward. Slowly Kurtis let go of the stone and started to descent the stairs only to end up in a room with a small pond.
The pond's surface was smooth and not a single wave traveled on it. What caught Kurtis' attention was the simple fact of the water being black. He crouched by the water and touched the liquid with his hand. There was nothing wrong other than the color and how cold it made him feel. Not bodily but emotionally like the water held so much evil in it. When he was pulling his hand away a shriek filled the room and a shadowy hand reached out from the pond trying to grab Kurtis'. He jumped backward not wanting whatever the thing was touching him. From his new place he watched as the humane figure slid on the little time ago so still surface wailing as if it was in pain. Soon it was joined by another such figures which in vain tried to get a handhold and climb out crying as doing so. It made Kurtis think that the water was either freezing or boiling hot. Was this the reason he had come here? For this he had knocked out a priest? He was already leaving when he remembered the poem and its first line.
"Beneath the darkened heart lies the shadow"
He turned around to see the pond one last time and for the first time he looked at its shape. The rough edges formed a heart or at least it looked like one to Kurtis. Beneath? Was he meant to go swimming in there? With all those things? It wouldn't be good for him but if he had to do it he'd better get on with it. Slowly he took of his coat and laid it down on the stone floor and after it he removed his shirt showing the thin bandage around his waist. Taking off his pants proved somewhat painful but he managed even though all that bending over didn't do him much good. Standing there in his boxers only he felt chilly all of a sudden and started having second thoughts about diving in the pond. He was Lux Veritatis damn it! Why was he so afraid of one pond? He took a couple of steps forward, inhaled deeply and dove.
The water was cold and it was hard to see forward because of the darkness. Something grabbed his leg starting to pull it but he managed to shake it free only to find more greedy hands traveling on his torso. They were greedy for the life in him, life that they no longer had. They were doomed to inhabit the pond for rest of the times to come. Kurtis found it harder and harder to swim as the creatures were blocking his way and stopping his limbs from moving. Just as he was beginning to give up he saw light in front of him and started to struggle harder and he felt the creatures growing weaker. One by one they let go knowing they couldn't keep something that didn't belong there, something that was too strongly attached to life. Sighing in relief in his mind Kurtis swan harder to reach the small hole in the stony roof.
He pulled himself up in a brightly lit room and yet he saw no candles. Where was the light coming from? What gave it the power to glow so brightly? He noticed he was standing in a small room much like the crypt was but instead of the shrine there was a table in this room. A table on which a woman lay unmoving but yet looking like she had died yesterday. Seeing and sensing no traps in the room Kurtis walked toward the table trying not to look at her. When he was by the side of her final resting place he laid his eyes on her face only to be shocked. Eyes opened on the table was the same face, the same woman who had looked at him through the window and let him inside the house in Prague. Her eyes were opened but they didn't see anymore. Her chest rose as if she was still among living but her mind made no notice of that fact. She looked as she was asleep but her eyes were opened. She was imprisoned in time, in a place where time lost its meaning and everything seemed to last for eternity. Looking at her he remembered her words: Because all of us aren't monsters. The truth in her words came crushing down on him.
Sadly Kurtis turned his face away from hers and noticed something floating in the air - A hilt of a katana. Just a hilt with no blade. When he took the hilt in his hand he saw the blade. A faint shadow traveled from it to her chest and to the place Kurtis thought her heart lied. Looking at her one last time Kurtis began to pull the katana out of her body. As soon as the whole blade was removed the room where he was standing grew as it its power source had run out. In the midst of all the darkness he noticed a small source of light that soon disappeared and couldn't stop a small smile taking over his lips. All she had suffered because of her race was forgotten and she was forgiven for being Nephilim.
Thank you for reviewing.
I'm sorry if the facts in my fic aren't correct. I've never been to Jerusalem so I've never seen St. Anne's church inside and I don't know if the church is still in use.
I know this is a bit late but I had a huge writer's block. I do hope you enjoy and please let me know if you do.
The Darkened Heart
He still couldn't believe it although he had known it more over eighteen hours already. There was nephilim blood in him. A part of him was something he had been taught to hate from his childhood. He had forgotten to ask her which one of his parents she was related to not that it would make any difference for the outcome was still the same. Perhaps he would never know. Perhaps it was one of the things that were better left unknown, hidden somewhere in the labyrinth of human mind.
He had been forced to sleep over the night because St. Anne's church was already closed by the time he got back to his hotel. Without another thought he had let himself fall over the bed and had been asleep almost immediately. He had slept better than in a long while and woken up rather late this morning. He had used his free time walking the streets of the Old City of Jerusalem and when it had been closer to 3:30pm he had returned to his hotel.
He had taken his Boran X from his hotel room and now stood in front of St. Anne's church wondering whether or not to go in. If he wouldn't go soon the church would be closed. The church itself wasn't very ornamental but he felt eerie standing in front of the building. It's magic wasn't created by large icons and gloriously decorated statues of angels and their battles with the darker side. It was the very feeling one caught standing near to the church and Kurtis had to admit he felt the same way when he was visiting his father's grave. Here as well as there he had the feeling that he was being watched. He turned around trying to see a glimpse of someone disappearing behind a building or fading in the shadows but he had never been able to see anyone. In the end he knew there were three options: there really was no one there, they could read his mind and hide quickly enough or they were invisible. Before the stay in Lara's mansion he wouldn't even thought the last option possible but now it seemed there really were invisible beings not bound by the rules of this earth.
Carefully he opened the church door hoping he'd find someone inside. The church was dimly lit by candles leaving room to shadows and totally dark corners. He walked down the aisle and though he had never had enough time to study architecture he had to admit that the interior of the church was breathtakingly beautiful. The aisle was lined with pure white pillars and on top of them were painted pictures carved to the wall. There was a single, large painting in the church right at the end of the aisle. There was a woman in the painting but she wasn't the thing that caught Kurtis' interests - it was the carvings above the pillars. Each one of them portrayed the same angel in a different stage or at least Kurtis thought it was the same angel. In the first he had his wings, white and beautiful and he looked longingly at something beyond the borders of the painting obviously wanting to reach it but something held him back. The one next to it showed the angel looking down from the heaven admiring earth and all of its beauty. Stage by stage the pictures showed the angels corruption and his wings turning to black. In the last one the angel was desperately trying to hold on to a cloud while a demon tried to pull him down from heaven. The angel's eyes were filled with fear and they seemed to have lost the spark they held in the first picture. He knew what was coming and also that he had brought it down on himself but to the very end he fought against his fate. Kurtis knew the story portrayed in the pictures far too well. He had had all his childhood to learn it. It was the story of how the Nephilim came to be and how the angels who brought them into existence were punished. Doomed to an exile from the heaven cause of their lust and love.
"Can I help you son?"
Kurtis almost jumped when he heard the voice right behind him and turned around almost expecting that no one would stand there. He was startled when he saw there was a man standing there, a man in his late thirties wearing common clothes, and was secretly thankful for remembering to put his coat on to hide his weapons. Kurtis knew he was a priest from the way he had called him but there were no other signs of it. The man had once had brilliant black hair and now there was some gray in them. His eyes were green, warm and understanding. He wore quite large eye glasses and had a small beard.
"Actually you can, father." Kurtis had never really liked the son-father language used in church but he was willing to give in this one time for he needed the priest's help.
"I see you are interested in the art of this church"
"Quite" was all that Kurtis answered. "Do you understand them?" he asked a little while later.
"There have been many who have tried to learn their meaning but they've all just given up in the end"
"What do you think?"
"I have always thought they portray the fact that innocence is easily lost and there is a little seed of corruption in everyone, even angels. There's something mysterious in them" Kurtis just nodded and let the priest continue "In the story they tell the angel realizes too late that he went over the border and desperately tries to repair the damage he's done. But there's no absolution for him anymore. He used his chance and ended up with wings as black as coal as punishment for crossing the line"
Kurtis nodded again. "That's what I thought" he said lying a bit. He had no meaning to tell the priest about beasts called the Nephilim. He didn't need to know and Kurtis wasn't about to shatter his thoughts about the world. "What about the woman in the painting? Who is she?"
"She is thought to be Anne, Jesus' grandmother. This church has been built on the spot where her and her husband Joachim's house was located or at least it's believed it was located here. This church was built by Crusaders around 1140 after Christ's birth and in the late 12th century it was turned to Islamic Law school by conquerer Salah el-Din. In 1856 after the Crimean war the Sultan of Istanbul offered the church to French government as a token of gratitude for their assistance during the war. The French government restored the church putting it as close as possible to its original form. Another restoration was performed in 1967"
Kurtis really didn't need any history lesson of events that were true only partially but he let the priest go one if there just happened to be a hidden point in the story somewhere.
"Today she stands as a symbol for all those women who in spite of injustice, suffering and death keep on hoping and passing on life"
Coming to the realization that their conversation wasn't going to lead anywhere Kurtis quickly changed the topic.
"Why is it that people have wanted to bring in to the light the mystery behind the pictures so badly?" he asked still looking at the painting of Anne.
"Through the centuries the art of this particular church has astonished everyone who have stepped through the doors, even the art historians. The reason, I think, lies in these pictures carved in the stone and the tale they tell. There's nothing strange in the painting of Anne because this church is dedicated to her memory but the idea behind all the other art work in this room is very much questioned. They're not usual church art because they portray how even something so heavenly as the angel is weak in spirit and has flaws of human beings. Even more strange is the fact that God banished him from the heaven even though he's supposed to forgive sins if he is asked to and I believe the angel asked and even begged but still he wasn't judged in the same way as human beings with whom he had wanted to walk among. Some art historians claim that the angel in question was envious of humans' free will and for once wanted to feel something he wasn't entitled to. Someone has even said that the pictures should be read from the end to the beginning and so they would portray hope but then the question why is he looking somewhere so longingly remains"
"So it is a mystery that has never been solved". It wasn't a question. It was just a simple statement. The priest just nodded as if waiting Kurtis to continue. When the continuation never came he decided to break the silence.
"In the end it all comes to the very humane want to have everything, even the things that are forbidden" Noticing his mistake the priest corrected himself. "Mostly the things that are forbidden. It's about the little seed of doubt about grass being greener on the other side in each one of us"
Kurtis sighed. "Are there any stories about this church? 'Cause I've always been interested in them", he lied a bit but thought that what the priest didn't know couldn't hurt him.
"Strange that you happened to ask that. Some of the people who have worked here late in the evening have sworn they've heard voices"
"Voices?"
"Wailing, begging, crying soft voices filling the room. No one has managed to understand what the voices are saying but they've said that desperation and pleading are so evident in the voices. Sometimes they've been heard to scream so loud that the people had to seal their ears not to hear the sound anymore. The ones who said they've heard the voices said they couldn't sleep the few following nights hearing the sobbing in their heads. What I've heard is that the pain in the voices is so strong that some of the people who have heard it have had headaches and seen the angel cry" At this point the priest stopped as if to see would Kurtis laugh but to his amazement the American didn't even smile. When he didn't hear a thing the priest continued. "At first you might think that they have lost their minds but if you look at the pictures really close you can see the faint lines caused by tears under his eyes"
Kurtis walked closer to one of the paintings but couldn't see much because it was way too dim but somehow he believed the marks were there. Perhaps the angel still did cry at nights not because of the pain in the voices but because of the knowledge that he had been one of the angels that had brought these monsters in existence and caused them their pain.
"There is an altar dedicated to St. Anne in a crypt below this church and it symbolizes..." the priest never got to finish his sentence because he found Kurtis' hand in front of his mouth as a sign to stop him from speaking.
Almost silent sigh filled the church and was soon joined by another voice which was only a little louder but the acoustics of the church made it sound like loud moan. Kurtis stepped back but found his way blocked by a pillar. The priest didn't move and stood where he was like a statue of salt unable to move. If the situation would've been something different Kurtis would've found the priest's way of action strange. A man who had taught all of his career others to believe in something that couldn't be seen or heard was now afraid because he heard voices not from this earth. Then something happened that neither of them had been expecting: A loud wailing and screaming filled the church forcing both of them to try to protect their ears. It was then when Kurtis felt something moist dropping on his cheek. First he didn't care about but soon another drop followed. In spite of the noise he moved his other hand and touched the liquid. It felt sticky and when he looked at his hand there was blood on his fingertips. Quickly he stepped away from the pillar and looked at the painting of the angel. Instead of droplets of tears the angels eyes formed droplets of blood. He turned around to look at the priest who stood there mouth open, hands on his ears staring at him or better said staring behind him, staring at the angel.
Suddenly the voices grew quieter and both of the men lovered their hands to their sides and stood for a moment without making any noise. Only thing that could be heard was the almost silent howling noise in the background. As Kurtis watched the priest he noticed that the man's eye glasses were broken.
"Erm...your glasses", he said walking closer to the priest and pointing at the broken eye glasses. The priest just stared at Kurtis as if he was air. It seemed that the man of the cloth couldn't really hear the American and Kurtis had to admit he felt a bit sorry for the man. The priest's world had collapsed because of one voice, all lost because of one damned voice. Kurtis reached out his hand and shook the priest's shoulder thus making the man look at himself. What Kurtis saw in the priest's eyes shocked him. The warmth that had resided in them was gone and his eyes were just staring in front of him. It was certain that the man was in shock. Sure that the man wouldn't know or even remember he took his Boran X and slammed it against the priest's head sending him into oblivion. Looking at the motionless body on the floor Kurtis felt a little sting of conscience.
"Sorry but that's the best place for you now", he said and put his weapon back into its holster. He looked around anxiously trying to catch something little out of ordinary to his sight. "There has to be something in here", he muttered to himself. Carefully he searched the walls trying to find a lever of some kind, a mechanism that would open a secret passage. After he had searched a while he understood that there was nothing in the room, at least not on his level. He had tried to pull the everything that looked a little bit of lever ending in breaking a candelabra. He had even used his farsee ability to search the roof and upper walls. Nothing seemed to trigger anything. He was already giving up when he remembered the priest's words. Something about a crypt with an altar dedicated to St. Anne. Where was it? What had the priest said about it? Was it below the church? The door! There had been a door near the main entrance which Kurtis at the time had thought to be a closet of some kind. Now that he thought of it the idea of a closet in a church like this sounded very strange. He rushed to the door and opened it only to be greeted with inhuman shrieking voice what made him loose his hold on the door and cover his ears. He yanked the door fully open with his foot and descended the stone steps to a small room with a shrine standing in the middle of it. The crypt itself was round and somehow very distressing. In this place Kurtis felt as if death itself was present lurking in some corner just waiting its chance to harvest more souls. The shrine had a rock incorporated into it. In front of the shrine was an area surrounded with rocks and in the small circle inside the small stones was nothing except smooth stone. The shrine itself was a large stone that looked like it had grown from the ground. When he got closer to the shrine a loud scream filled the room forcing him once more to block the noise from entering his ears.
He didn't know how long it had taken the screaming to stop but eventually it died as suddenly as it had began and again Kurtis moved closer to the shrine and especially the magnificent glowing stone incorporated in it. In some strange way he felt drawn to the stone as if it was calling out for him. The glow emanating from it was soft and filled with serenity the rest of the crypt so badly screamed for. Kurtis reached out and touched the stone's surface feeling strange warmth flowing from it in to himself like it had been waiting for the touch many years. At the same moment the warmth disappeared Kurtis heard a grinding sound as if something heavy was moved. He laid his eyes on the small circle of stones and gasped when he found out that the smooth interior that had been there no more existed. In its place was now a hole and stone steps leading downward. Slowly Kurtis let go of the stone and started to descent the stairs only to end up in a room with a small pond.
The pond's surface was smooth and not a single wave traveled on it. What caught Kurtis' attention was the simple fact of the water being black. He crouched by the water and touched the liquid with his hand. There was nothing wrong other than the color and how cold it made him feel. Not bodily but emotionally like the water held so much evil in it. When he was pulling his hand away a shriek filled the room and a shadowy hand reached out from the pond trying to grab Kurtis'. He jumped backward not wanting whatever the thing was touching him. From his new place he watched as the humane figure slid on the little time ago so still surface wailing as if it was in pain. Soon it was joined by another such figures which in vain tried to get a handhold and climb out crying as doing so. It made Kurtis think that the water was either freezing or boiling hot. Was this the reason he had come here? For this he had knocked out a priest? He was already leaving when he remembered the poem and its first line.
"Beneath the darkened heart lies the shadow"
He turned around to see the pond one last time and for the first time he looked at its shape. The rough edges formed a heart or at least it looked like one to Kurtis. Beneath? Was he meant to go swimming in there? With all those things? It wouldn't be good for him but if he had to do it he'd better get on with it. Slowly he took of his coat and laid it down on the stone floor and after it he removed his shirt showing the thin bandage around his waist. Taking off his pants proved somewhat painful but he managed even though all that bending over didn't do him much good. Standing there in his boxers only he felt chilly all of a sudden and started having second thoughts about diving in the pond. He was Lux Veritatis damn it! Why was he so afraid of one pond? He took a couple of steps forward, inhaled deeply and dove.
The water was cold and it was hard to see forward because of the darkness. Something grabbed his leg starting to pull it but he managed to shake it free only to find more greedy hands traveling on his torso. They were greedy for the life in him, life that they no longer had. They were doomed to inhabit the pond for rest of the times to come. Kurtis found it harder and harder to swim as the creatures were blocking his way and stopping his limbs from moving. Just as he was beginning to give up he saw light in front of him and started to struggle harder and he felt the creatures growing weaker. One by one they let go knowing they couldn't keep something that didn't belong there, something that was too strongly attached to life. Sighing in relief in his mind Kurtis swan harder to reach the small hole in the stony roof.
He pulled himself up in a brightly lit room and yet he saw no candles. Where was the light coming from? What gave it the power to glow so brightly? He noticed he was standing in a small room much like the crypt was but instead of the shrine there was a table in this room. A table on which a woman lay unmoving but yet looking like she had died yesterday. Seeing and sensing no traps in the room Kurtis walked toward the table trying not to look at her. When he was by the side of her final resting place he laid his eyes on her face only to be shocked. Eyes opened on the table was the same face, the same woman who had looked at him through the window and let him inside the house in Prague. Her eyes were opened but they didn't see anymore. Her chest rose as if she was still among living but her mind made no notice of that fact. She looked as she was asleep but her eyes were opened. She was imprisoned in time, in a place where time lost its meaning and everything seemed to last for eternity. Looking at her he remembered her words: Because all of us aren't monsters. The truth in her words came crushing down on him.
Sadly Kurtis turned his face away from hers and noticed something floating in the air - A hilt of a katana. Just a hilt with no blade. When he took the hilt in his hand he saw the blade. A faint shadow traveled from it to her chest and to the place Kurtis thought her heart lied. Looking at her one last time Kurtis began to pull the katana out of her body. As soon as the whole blade was removed the room where he was standing grew as it its power source had run out. In the midst of all the darkness he noticed a small source of light that soon disappeared and couldn't stop a small smile taking over his lips. All she had suffered because of her race was forgotten and she was forgiven for being Nephilim.