The Ninth circle

12th October

Last night I dreamed I was in Salem in 1692, on trial for witchcraft. The public gallery was full. There was malevolence… everywhere. Pummelling me in waves from every person in the courtroom. And ill children sitting on a bench together with their parents, too frightened to look at me. The judge walked in and everyone stood up. The muttering died down into silence as the judge addressed me.

‘Gabriel Antaeus, you stand before the court accused of witchcraft. How do you plead?’

‘Not guilty,’ I said.

The judge stared at that, as if my answer astounded him, and an excited murmur went round the court.

‘But you have already admitted to talking to Satan.’

‘No, no, I haven’t,’ I protested. ‘I’ve never even seen him! It was Mephistopheles! He tricked me! He tricked me into talking to him!’

‘So you admit to talking to demons?’

‘Yes, but I never-’

‘And what about these poor children?’ the judge asked, gesturing to the ones sitting on the front bench. ‘Isn’t it true that you cast a spell over them to cause their illness?’

‘No! That wasn’t me, it was Moloch! Look, where is Zadkiel Stephomi? He will speak for me.’

Even as I spoke I saw Moloch standing beside the kids, touching them with his unnaturally long black fingers, leaning closer towards them to mutter words of sickness in their ears.

‘For God’s sake, get those children out of here!’ I cried.

‘How dare you threaten the children in a court of law!’ the Judge roared, rising from his seat.

‘I’m not! I’m not threatening them!’ I shouted back desperately, raising my voice over the outrage of the public in the gallery. ‘It’s not me! It’s Moloch, I can see him right there! He’s cursing them! He’s the one making them ill! Find Zadkiel Stephomi, I tell you, he’ll speak for me!’

‘Silence,’ the Judge thundered, bringing his mallet down on the anvil until the noise in the room subsided. Then he looked directly at me once again. ‘Everyone here knows that a witch is incapable of reciting the Lord’s Prayer,’ he said in a quiet voice. ‘If you truly mean the children no harm, if you truly are not a witch… then you will be able to recite it before us now. If you can do so, you will walk free. If not, you will be burned at the stake for witchcraft and communication with the Devil.’

I gazed at the judge, hardly able to believe my ears. ‘If I recite the prayer, I walk free?’

‘That is correct.’

Relief swept over me. I knew the prayer, of course, knew it perfectly by heart. I took a deep breath and began, ‘“ Our Father, who art in Heaven, hallowed be thy name… ”’ I got that far before I faltered at the sight of Mephistopheles, standing next to the judge and grinning at me. Unlike Moloch, Mephistopheles looked almost like a man, but I knew him instantly for what he was.

‘Isn’t this madness, Gabriel?’ he asked softly. ‘Nineteen men and women in the grave already because of this hysteria. These hypocrites are about to burn you at the stake. You do realise that, don’t you?’

Hurriedly, I continued with the prayer, very aware of the silent court watching me. ‘“ Thy Kingdom come, thy will be done, on Earth as it is in Heaven- ”’

‘Hell’s not so bad,’ Mephistopheles went on, glancing round the courtroom with a sneer. ‘Better than here, anyway. I expect you’ll prefer it.’

‘“ Give us this day our daily bread,”’ I went on, desperately trying to ignore the demon. One slip up, just one tiny inaccuracy in my recital, and I knew these bloodthirsty people would string me up by my neck or tie me to a stake. I could see in their hungry eyes how much they wanted me to fail. They had grown to love the smell of burning flesh. I must not let the demon distract me. ‘“ And forgive us our trespasses- ”’

‘This judge is a pious, hateful little shit, isn’t he?’ Mephistopheles asked, looking down at the man’s face. ‘You’ll hang whatever you do, you know. One of the sick children is his son. Someone has to pay for that.’

‘“ As we forgive those who trespass against us, ”’ I went on desperately, closing my eyes to block the demon out. Just three more sentences. Three more and I would walk free! ‘“ And lead us not into temptation, but deliver us from evil. For thine is the- ”’

Suddenly I broke off, choking. Mephistopheles was by my side now, his hands clamped tightly around my throat. The court murmured with pleased excitement at my very evident distress.

‘Don’t be obstinate, Gabriel,’ Mephistopheles said calmly as I clawed frantically at his hands. ‘Your time is up. You’re going to burn out there today, I’m afraid.’

‘“ The kingdom‚” ’ I wheezed, my lungs burning with the effort. ‘“ The power — ”’

‘No!’ Mephistopheles snapped coldly. ‘This is it, Gabriel. Time to go. Lucifer has sent for you.’

‘Take him out and burn him!’ the Judge was roaring.

No! I screamed at them in my mind. I can finish it! I could recite it perfectly if only Mephistopheles wasn’t strangling me! How can you not see him? It’s not the prayer that’s choking me to death, it’s the fucking demon!

I desperately tried to draw enough breath just to say the last few words, but I couldn’t get any air at all now. There were tears running down my face — from the extraordinary pain of being unable to breathe and the awful knowledge of how I was going to die. The demon would never let me finish the Lord’s Prayer. He wouldn’t let me prove my innocence to anyone. I couldn’t prevent my body from twitching, jerking horribly, desperate for oxygen I could not get. The agony of it was unbelievable. People were on their feet now, running towards me, roaring with glee and pious bloodlust.

My vision blurred alarmingly and my head went light, but no sooner had my knees hit the floor than I was being dragged up again by the mob and Mephistopheles’ grip was gone, the air rushing back into my starving lungs, burning like acid. ‘“ And the glory, ”’ I gasped at last, but it was far too late by then. They were going to tie me to a stake and burn me until there was nothing but dust and ash left. They dragged me out of the courthouse to the stake driven into the ground outside. It had been used before: the blackened body of a man was even now being taken down from it. And although most of his skin was gone so that I could clearly see the skull beneath the flaking flesh, it was quite clear to me that this burned out corpse had once been Zadkiel Stephomi.

‘ No! ’ I screamed, waking myself up at last. ‘ No, no, I can say it! “ Our father, who art in Heaven, hallowed by thy name…”’

I wasn’t a witch! I wasn’t a witch! I didn’t talk to demons! I could just see them, that was all. That was all! That didn’t make me something evil, did it? I pushed back the sheets, switched on the lamp and stood before the full-length mirror in my bedroom, still reciting the Lord’s Prayer. I recited it five hundred times, absolutely perfectly. I proved to myself I did not deserve to burn. It was only a nightmare. I could recite the prayer for ever and never make a mistake because I held God close to my heart and was loyal to Him. Indeed, it was only the sun coming up and shining through the windows that made me realise how long I had been standing there repeating the prayer, and then I broke out of the trance. I had already more than proved my point.