Apocalypse of Jude

Paul looks up and around at all of them, smiling and pleased.

“Ah. Finally we’re all here. I can’t tell you how long I’ve waited for this rite to take place. You are here tonight to witness the union of Mae in marriage to Dionysus in the underworld so that his spirit may be impregnated into the child of his rite; a child that I believe will bring us to freedom and victory from a dying Church who has laid waste our City and this land; a child who will change the set times and seasons.

“I believe the time has come for the child to be conceived, and I have voyaged far to come to this place. This bough that lies on the table is taken from the sacred tree that was bound to Mae’s spirit at her birth when she was prophesied to bear the child of Dionysus. It was ordained that the one who was to impregnate her would have to present her with a bough of mistletoe that would grow upon the tree, so that they could journey together into the underworld to find Dionysus. There Dionysus would take possession of him for the rite of sexual union to begin.”

Paul’s eyes then rest on Janice and Gary.

“But first, we send out from among us these two miserable and morally destitute wretches. We need to be purified before our paeans and choruses can begin. These two represent all that is evil among us—their lust for power and avarice for riches. Let us send them out from us that they may be beaten and stoned by those outside. Let them tear this whore’s clothes from her. Let them eat her flesh and burn her with fire. And let this merchant weep and mourn over her smouldering body as he realises all his wealth is gone.”

Paul signals to his three heirs, and they move, two to take Gary, one to take Janice. Then one-by-one, the remaining seven gather around them, slapping and scratching Janice, and pummelling their fists like great hailstones into Gary, their screams and groans muffled under their gags. Then they are released from the veranda door, pushed blindfolded and gagged over its lintel into the gathering orgy of people waiting in the garden below.

Through her glazed eyes, Mae looks upon the offering of mistletoe and takes it up. It lays in her hands for a few moments, before she lapses into a yet deeper trance, her voice beginning to babble an endless stream of sounds like that of an unintelligible language. Around them, the ten gather and begin enclosing the circle in dithyrambic chants of praise to Dionysus. For hours the cycle of chants and hymns continue, each one in the circle, on each finished cycle, taking over to lead the next chorus. Their bodies move to the rhythms, their voices spin calling the katabasis ever closer. Within the circle, Jude, Mae and the unquestioned presence of Paul enter the enchanted trance, drifting deeper and deeper into its darkness.

The air is cut with a shriek and from Mae’s depths echoes a mourning, fearful, frightened wail. Her wailing, tearing at her hair, and beating upon her breast continue as she intones the god’s name over and over in mystery and horror. Then suddenly she is silent.

“Come, follow me. First light is here. Hades doors are open.”

In the thorough darkness that suddenly plunges around the three of them, there is an inescapable wall of fire, intense as a furnace, blasting its roar before them. Mae stands impassively before it.

“Have no fear, the fire cannot kill. But no one further goes without passing through this tormenting flame.”

Mae turns to them, her eyes and voice, clearly those of another.

“Put your doubt away. Let us plunge forward. A thousand years within these flames would not singe a hair from your head. It is their torment you should dread.”

Jude watches as she walks in, unscathed by the flame. Paul follows. Then in the shape of a tongue, Jude is enclosed in the fire. Yet it is not that of Hades, but unknown to him, the fire that makes men fair, burning, burning, burning away the cauldron of unholy loves that have enclosed around the presence of light in his soul; that have sought to suffocate it from existence in his life.

Emerging from the flame, darkness plunges around them again, as if they walk through a dark wood. Then they pass an aged elm, where Jude see a chimera of Caul staring searchingly at him. He suddenly knows the urge to talk to this figure.

“You’ve brought me here by I know not what grace or understanding Caul. I almost expect this wasteland to bloom suddenly into flower and song and the Spirit to come meet me rejoicing. It’s as if I’ve passed through the flaming sword of Eden’s guarding cherubim back into paradise. Is it the Spirit that caused you to lead me so unwittingly here?”

The figure looks unwaveringly on.

“I guess you have no more word or influence over me here. But the fires it seems have cleansed me.”

Wasteland Mix: Fragment 81