Sarah England - Baba Lenka - Pure Occult Horror

“A Shadow force, you said?”

She nodded.

“Black winged shadows brought in on a cold wind? Is that what you see?”

“Yes.”

It seemed to me that as we spoke, the room darkened a shade. My mother shivered.

“And you read those rituals, didn’t you? You spoke the words, and you—”

“I learned exactly how to commune with them, yes.”

“Talking to them? Getting answers?”

“Yes, and now they’re attached to me, and I can’t get rid of them. Unlike you, though, I cannot give commands but only be tormented. The gift and title of sorceress was passed to you. You are their mistress in this world, and they expect you to use their energy.”

“Mum.” I glanced at the clock. Fifteen minutes and Dad would be back. “What did Baba Lenka do, exactly? I have to know what lies ahead. Dad said if I knew, it would send me insane, but I have to, don’t I?”

“Your dad read through the other two books when he burned the grimoire. There were two large tomes, thousands upon thousands of pages of instructions and photographs from the Order. Baba Lenka spent a lifetime working for occult sects and satanic lodges at the highest level – with the world’s most prestigious and powerful elite, people you would never imagine in your wildest nightmares could be involved in things like that. There were names in those books, along with photographs – remember she had to recognise them – of royalty, government ministers, military commanders, aristocrats, artists and film stars, top psychiatrists, university professors, judges and police chiefs – people it would shock you to know were involved and whose descendants still are. Killing and even consuming children, Eva. They torture them until their eyes bleed, and drink their blood.”

Tears dripped down her tissue cheeks. “I’m getting cold again, oh so cold.”

From a nearby chair I grabbed a blanket, and on a hot day in a hot room, wrapped it around her shoulders.

“What a trick it is, what illusion, yet humans have such a weakness, such greed and such egos that they are prepared to do such things…”

I felt myself spiralling downwards. “Hell on earth and few people even know about it?”

She nodded. “Oh, it’s hushed up good and proper. Anyone speaking out will either be committed or quietly removed. These people bond together on pain of death. It isn’t a secret that the SS used the dark arts. There were even counter-occult groups sending incorrect information back to them. So more ordinary people than you think know about it, but most have been programmed to believe it’s not real. If they did, they could fight back you see – spiritually.”

We had less than five minutes left. By then, the midsummer afternoon had darkened considerably, the air hot and still. But despite the insufferable heat, goosebumps rose on my mother’s skin and her teeth chattered.

I rubbed her arms in a vain attempt to keep her warm.

“Mum, I get badly ill. What am I to do?”

She gripped my hand. Three small squeezes one after the other. “Most important. Listen. You have to know. It is all in your mind, Eva. It is an illusion, a trick, and nothing is solid. How do you think you get well again so quickly?”

“What? I don’t understand. But others can see I am ill.”

“Step outside of your rational mind for a minute. It is illusion, Eva. Other people see how you don’t eat, that you are thin; they see you tormented and anxious, reacting to pain. But believe me, the power over you is all illusion because they want you to facilitate their agenda. But it only works if you let it! Do you see? This is not real but a spiritual battle between the light and the shadow force – between human creation and the dark, inhuman one. Use light, they hate that. Remember, darkness can only dim the light, but light can obliterate the darkness. Fill yourself with love and hope and all you have been given as a human spirit. Remember there is always a human weakness or flaw that makes it possible for them to ride in. It can be greed or hate, rage or jealousy, take your pick—”

I hung my head, remembering the rage. “Lenka’s was vanity, wasn’t it? She wanted to be admired!”

My mum smiled wanly. “Always there is a weakness or they wouldn’t get in. Everyone calls them demons, their demons… you see… deep down, people do know—”

My dad’s footsteps were in the corridor below, about to come up the stairs.

“How do you know so much, Mum?”

She sighed. “I made it my business. When I’m not out for the count, I try to read and so should you.”

The fire door to the main corridor creaked on its hinges. Suddenly she reached forwards and pulled me close.

“Understand one thing, Eva. Do not, under any circumstances, work for the Order. They are the scum of the earth. Do not fall for what they offer or you will be lost… If it looks too good to be true, it probably is.”

I pulled back so I could look into her eyes, realising on a deep, unspoken level that it would be for the last time. She was gripping my hand like she never wanted to let go.

“I’ll be all right, Mum. Now I understand more. Thank you. I’m going to try and do what you say.”

Her grip tightened, and I kissed her forehead.

“I’ve got a job in a nursing home, did you know? And a few weeks ago I met a really nice lad. Don’t worry, he’s definitely not wealthy, he’s just ordinary and kind and—”

She started to pant, the hair matting to her forehead. “Met someone? Who?”

“His name’s Luke. He’s—”

“He didn’t seek you out, did he?”

“Well, sort of, but—”

“Is he very good looking, charming and funny?”

“Yes, but honestly he’s not—”

“No! No! No! Eva, no—”

Her screams ricocheted round the whole hospital. Dad flew in along with two male nurses.

“Sorry, love, we’re going to have to ask you to leave.”

She was still gripping my hand, but her eyes had rolled back in her head, and her body was contorting violently.

Dad glared at me as I stood up and backed away.

“I knew this would happen. Eva, I told you not to upset her. She might not recover this time—”

“Mr Hart, we need you and your daughter to leave now, please.”

There was nothing about Luke to cause alarm. I worried about what Mum had said the whole way home, but he was about as mundane as they came, with a job in an office somewhere in Leeds. Definitely not a member of the ruling classes, he had a local accent, rode a motorbike and wore jeans and t-shirts. It was true the attraction was strong, but he definitely wasn’t pressing me to learn politics or offering a house!

My heart, so heavy in my chest on the journey back to the flat that midsummer evening, soared at the sight of him leaning on the wall by the bus stop when I got back. A fringe of dark hair flopped over his forehead, his long legs crossed at the ankles. When I rounded the corner, he flicked his cigarette onto the road and held open his arms.

He was the only person apart from Nicky who had ever hugged me, but that wasn’t the same, was it? I mean, Luke, he wrapped his arms right around me and just held me in a great, protective bear hug. I’d never needed it more than I did then, either. Instinctively he knew the visit to my mum had been traumatic, although I had no intention of telling him what kind of burden we had to bear. Like most people, he’d back away and assume it was madness.

I just sank into him, loving that he stroked my hair, soothed by the kind words he breathed into my neck. I wanted to love this man. I wanted more than anything in the world right then to be taken care of, helped, partnered. Mum and Dad had that – despite everything, their love burned more brightly than ever. You could almost see the bond.