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TEMPTATION
(A
Spine Chiller)
By
Vassilis C. Militsis
(This
story is based on an old wives' tale)
Father
Parthenios, abbot of the monastery of Our Beatific Holy Lady, was a
75-year-old man, of middle stature, lean with a snow-white long
beard. His long hair, tied in a knot at his nape and thinning on the
crown, was covered with his monk’s cap. His clear blue eyes
emanated a kind of sweetness bordering to holiness. His worn out
frock had become threadbare and bleached with time’s tear and wear.
He peered into the sky and shook his head contentedly. The April day
was promised a fine one despite the morning mist. Due east, in a
spectacle of changing hues from purple to red to pink and to orange,
the dawn loomed over the distant mountains heralding the oncoming
sunrise. The stars had already faded in a milky sky, the morning star
only being prominent like a diamond pinned on the eastern firmament
and at the same time a full moon was about to set behind the western
mountains. On his right soared the imposing crenelated ramparts of
the southern wall of the abbey. The monastery was founded in the
middle Ages after the discovery of the miracle-working icon of the
Holy Virgin. The icon has survived through the long years and is
still devoutly kept in the church. At an altitude of 2.300 feet above
sea level, the monastery is surrounded by lush vegetation of sundry
species of plants, bushes and trees, the latter mainly being acorn
and chestnut trees. It is literally perched like an eagle’s nest at
the side of the precipitous mountain slope, offering the observer a
captivating vista of the spacious plain extending to the east from
the foot of the mountains.
The
abbot hauled behind him his obstinate donkey by the halter as he
would tax the animal greatly to descend the craggy path riding on its
back.
On
both sides of the path there was an orgy of pale green April
vegetation consisting mainly of oaks, chestnut-trees, ash, and
numerous tufty small bushes. This greenness was in places interrupted
by the white and pink shades of Judas trees. In this orgasm of trees
and plants arose a cacophony of chirps, twitters, warbles, trills and
other melodies of the multitudinous avian throng hidden in the
foliage.
It
would take the abbot about twenty minutes to reach the foot of the
mountain when with the sunrise he would have an easy ride on his
donkey to cover the two hour journey on the flat plain to his
destination, the weekly bazaar in the city.
Arriving
at the market, he mingled with the sundry multitude converging to the
bazaar, not only from the nearby villages of the plain but from
distant mountain hamlets, as well. This entire crowd came to sell and
buy or even barter commodities and after each man had finished his
task, he would return home in the evening, as a good breadwinner.
The
abbot rode off his donkey before an inn and entrusting his beast to
the innkeeper, he hastened to make the necessary provisions for his
monastery. After finishing his chores, he looked forward to meeting
his friend; father Arsenios, also an abbot of a monastery south from
the city. They had known each other for some time and after they both
were done with the shopping, they would meet at their usual tavern
for their frugal meal and a friendly chat.
Father
Arsenios had already been there, sitting at his wonted corner and
wiping with his handkerchief the sweat off his brow. He had also done
his shopping and was waiting for his friend to begin their repast.
Unlike old Parthenios, father Arsenios was a tall and sturdy man,
around forty, having raven-black beard and hair, the latter cascading
to his shoulders. His dark eyes had a piercing, wild look causing
fear. He wore high quality pitch-black frocks and cap appearing to be
made from silk.
Your
blessing, brother, greeted the abbot.
The
Lord may bless you, brother, replied Arsenios.
They
ordered and Parthenios said the grace crossing himself, ignoring the
fact that Arsenios was indifferent to such religious formalities, and
began chatting while eating.
What
tidings from your monastery, brother Arsenios? I’m looking forward
to a visit so that we can say mass together.
These
days we’ve been very busy with repairs and renovations, replied
Arsenios, so it won’t be convenient for your grace to visit us.
Then
I suggest your grace pay a visit to our cloister, where we may spend
some time in prayer and quiet.
Accepted
willingly, brother, Arsenios beamed. Let’s fix it now. How about
next Wednesday, after we’re through with shopping?
Therefore,
it was arranged that father Arsenios was to visit Father Pathenios’
monastery, and each wended his way to his own abbey.
***
It
was already past the middle of Lent and in less than three weeks
Easter was due. As it had been arranged at the Wednesday market in
the town, the two abbots – Parthenios and Arsenios – picked up
their way to the former’s monastery. Father Parthenios proceeded on
his donkey while Arsenios followed riding his tall and stout mule.
The weather was clear and fine; the sun shone bright and warm in a
clear blue sky. It appeared to be rather a summer day than a spring
one. And yet in the process of the two men something was going amiss.
Weird and unnatural things occurred: at the places they were going
through a sinister atmosphere prevailed as though amid all that
brightness a pall of darkness covered everything; suddenly the birds
ceased singing only to assume their twitter after the passage of the
company through their domain. The package animals were also restless
as if they dreaded something.
The
exchange between the two divines was laconic and to the questions of
Parthenios Arsenios answered curtly and in single words as though
reluctant to respond. Parthenios benevolently put down the strange
behavior of his companion to a probable weariness.
They
had already reached the foot of the mountain having covered the half
of their journey. Now they had to trudge on the ascending craggy path
and after two hours to get at last to the abbey of Our Beatific Holy
Lady. The white edifices of the monastery and the dome of the church
figured like a painting on the precipitous slope. Built in the 12th
century, the monastery formed a square block of structures surrounded
by an external wall topped with turrets and battlements. The southern
part of the complex housed the monks’ cells while in the northern
part there were the storerooms, the cellars, the pantry and the
kitchen as well as the barns and the refectory. The eastern part
comprised a spacious balcony over an inaccessible precipice. The
entrance to the monastery was in the western part and dominated by a
huge belfry. On the right of the entrance in the courtyard were the
reception and the guest quarters, where the pilgrims enjoyed the
monks’ hospitality. The byzantine church was built right in the
center of the courtyard. It was covered in lead and had two small
bell-towers and a dome, to the cross of which a lightning rod was
adjusted. Internally it was decorated with rare frescoes and icons
and its iconostasis was a priceless masterpiece of carving.
At
last after a laborious journey both the men and the beasts entered
panting and weary the outer court of the monastery. The weather had
changed; black thunderheads foreboding a storm had accumulated low in
the sky and a chilly wind had started to blow causing an unpleasant
shivering in the bodies. Static electricity made the hairs of the
skin bristle. Father Parthenios had never experienced such a
phenomenon and was seized by an uncanny fear. However, the arrival of
the group was welcomed by joyful tintinnabulations of the bell, as is
wont when an illustrious guest came. While the monk was pulling at
the rope, suddenly the bulky bell cracked and shattered into
smithereens on the paved outer courtyard with a horrible crashing
sound as if the whole belfry collapsed. At the same time a flash of
lightning ripped the air simultaneously with the booming peal of
thunder. A pair of shepherd dogs belonging to the sheep folds of the
monastery let out a shrieking howl and krept groveling at the feet of
Arsenios’ beast as though in obedience. Arsenios, still mounted and
unperturbed accosted his colleague, a sarcastic grin on his lips.
I
could never imagine you to be so faint of heart, holy abbot, to be
afraid of weather elements.
But,
Holy Brother, haven’t you seen the bell? How do you explain it?
This
is simply a coincidence. In the course of time all things wear off
and break down.
After
this incident they proceeded to the inner courtyard, where the monk
serving as host and the other colleagues received with magnanimous
hospitality their honored guest and were eager to treat him to
something. Dissembling fatigue from the toilsome journey, Arsenios
asked to be shown immediately to his quarters.
The
supper at the refectory will soon be ready. After you’re done up
and ready, you’re expected in our communal table, said Parthenios.
Don’t
fret about me; I’d like to dine alone in my cell if you don’t
mind. I’m so dead tired that I wish to retire. Tell the cook to
fix me something handy such as bread, cheese and meat.
But,
father, are you forgetting that we’re fasting as it is Lent? Asked
Parthenios in amazement.
My
health allows no such luxuries as fasting. Then you must be
well-aware of the saying: those
of ill health and wayfarers are exempted from fasting.
Not
only was Parthenios taken aback but was also deeply hurt by the
attitude of his friend. Nevertheless, he directed the dumbfounded
cook to carry out Arsenios’ wishes and retired to his other duties.
Meanwhile an awesome storm broke out and raged on with ripping
flashes of lightning and earsplitting peals of thunder accompanied by
pelting rain and hail. Fortunately, the buildings were protected
against the electrical discharge of lightning by the newly fitted rod
or else the edifices would have been reduced to cinders.
After
the evening repast, from which their honored guest was absent, the
monks one by one retired to their cells to meditate in prayer and
snatch some hours of sleep till the hour of matins. Abbot Parthenios
passed by Arsenios’ cell to check on the high guest while heading
to his own quarters. He was about to knock at the door but he was
checked by something that he could not explain. From the cell a heavy
odor of attar, acid and pitch was given off through whiffs of a gelid
draft of air issued from the door chinks. I’d
better not disturb him; he
thought,
he must be exhausted, so let him rest till matins.
He put down the odors to possible unguents that Arsenios smeared his
body with for medicinal purposes, and the cold draft to an open
window in the cell.
One
hour after midnight the wooden chime sounded the matins and the monks
began to gather in the church for the matins service, apart from monk
Jeremiah, who was charged with the nocturnal patrol of the abbey. But
what astonished the abbot and the monks was the absence of Arsenios
from the service. The
bedcovers must have fallen too heavy on him,
Parthenios mused ironically. In the meantime the storm had notably
abated but the night was pitch-black as the dark clouds were still
dense and low in the sky. Eerily lugubrious howls of prowling wolves
were heard from the surrounding forest and made one’s blood curdle.
The
day came in a downcast sky that sunlight could hardly filter through.
An eldritch silence prevailed. No warble or twitter of birds could be
heard. A kind of foreboding hovered in the air.
The
morning repast being over after the mass, the monks went out into the
courtyard and each headed to perform his daily tasks. The abbot went
to assess the damage caused by the storm. The hail had wreaked havoc
to the vegetables and fruit stripping the trees from their bloom and
leaves. In the middle of spring the spectacle was rather wintry with
the desolate trees. The chicken coops were completely destroyed and
the chicken corpses lay topsy-turvy on the ground. The few fowl that
survived were perched crestfallen in the corners of the coop that had
remained intact. An august monk, Joel, hurried panting to the abbot
to announce that their best milk cow was found dead on the pasture,
possibly struck by thunder. At the same time, brother Jeremiah
approached looking aghast and haggard, his eyes wild and bloodshot,
and trembling in indescribable fear brandished a kitchen knife:
Holy
Father, your blessing. We’ve got to exorcise the evil we have
unwittingly let into our monastery. Last night on my watch I saw him
… the fiend was there, tall and pitch-black in his frock, his hair
disheveled and his ears pointed. He turned around, his face pale,
and looked at me with penetrating and sarcastic eyes. Then he burst
out laughing and his mirth was uncanny. The air around him was
pregnant with a foul smell, an odor of tar. I tried to pray but I
could not as cold sweat ran along my spine in my utter horror. I
rushed to the kitchen and snatched this knife. When I came out I saw
him standing at the main entrance with his back to me. I attacked
him stabbing my knife in his back but to my terror it went through
his body, as in empty air. God save us, Holy Abbot!
As
he was speaking he was cutting around in the air with his knife. The
abbot crossed himself and instructed brother Jeremiah to summon the
rest of the monks into the refectory. He himself went to Arsenios’
cell, which he found it empty. His guest was nowhere to be found.
Then he made sure to seal all the exits with crucifixes and sprinkle
them with holy water. This done, he headed to the refectory.
***
“My
brethren”, said the abbot accosting his monks, “as you have
realized Almighty God has decided to lead us into temptation to test
us. We have the evil in our midst and that is in the person of our
guest. Both brother Jeremiah and I are fully convinced of this.
Therefore, we have to exorcise the fiend. I have already taken the
necessary measures so that the devil cannot escape. Now let us
proceed with the necessary orthodox ritual of exorcism ending up with
the orthodox Divine Eucharist Service”.
***
Being
no possible escape for the demon, the abbot began the exorcism
ritual: in
the name of the Father and the Son and the Holy Ghost… At
that time the terrified Arsenios was attempting to get out of the
court. He sensed however that an inexplicable power kept him away
from the exits and made him tremble in unutterable terror. The
service was going on within the church. Outside Arsenios was feeling
a sort of strange discomfort and at the same time his body began
oddly to change. His face gradually began to grow swollen and red and
as the service went on it went from red to an uncanny purple and his
body was bloating like a balloon. Then from within the church was
heard the petition: Especially
for our most holy, pure, blessed,
and
glorious Lady,
the Theotokos and
ever Virgin Mary.
From without a loud bang was heard as if something exploding. Some of
the monks sprang out of the church in panic and were in time to see
Arsenios explode and shatter into a thousand pieces, which were
dispersed around upon the court cobbles in flames and thick smoke.
Finally the pieces were reduced to ashes which were blown away by a
pleasant fresh breeze. The sky cleared at once and the sun beamed
joyful and warm anew.
The
monks reentered the church, and delivered from evil, gratefully
attended the rest of the mass, at the end of which a Te Deum was
chanted to glorify God and Lord Jesus, Our Savior.
Shortly
the Passion Week was drawing near and abbot and monks were looking
forward to the festivities of the Resurrection of Our Lord.
Vassilis
C. Militsis
(
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)
attended primary and secondary education in Greece and from 1963 to
1965 continued at Apopka Memorial High School, near Orlando, Florida,
where he graduated with the High School Diploma and the Proficiency
Certificate of English of the University of Michigan. In 1973 he
graduated from The Aristotelian University of Thessaloniki, Greece,
with a B.A. degree in English and Greek. He was the owner of a
private language school in Thessaloniki for 18 years. Thereafter he
worked as a teacher of English and Greek at state Greek schools, both
in Greece and Germany. He retired in 2010.
He speaks Greek and
English fluently and possesses a good command of German and Italian,
and a fair command of French. He has also a long experience in
translations ranging from simple professional texts to literary
works. He and Mr. Wolfgang Reumuth are the authors of the Praktische
Grammatik der neugriechischen Sprache, published by Gottfried Egert
Verlag.
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