Read Online The Ancient Curse by Valerio Massimo Manfredi - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Valerio Massimo Manfredi
Tags: Historical, Novel
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he tried in vain to overcome. His fingers seemed to move on their own, brushing the man’s skull, part of the temporal bone still bearing a strip of the sack in which his head was enclosed during the cruel ordeal. The emotion that had been simmering inside of him exploded with uncontrollable force. Those bare bones electrified him, filled him with a clear, distinct vision of those atrocious moments: suffocated, breathless panting, the crazed beating of a heart gripped with terror. Fangs sinking into live flesh as the man screamed in pain, writhing about blindly, futilely wielding the sword tight in his fist. Blood that with every bite spurted out more copiously, soaking the ground, blood that made the animal more and more excited and aggressive, feeding its thirst for slaughter. He heard the sinister crunching of bones, yielding abruptly to those steel fangs, smelt the nauseating odour of intestines ripped from the man’s belly and devoured still throbbing, while he was alive and screaming, shaking violently in the throes of agony.
Dripping with sweat, Fabrizio could not control the furious beating of his own heart, nor the tears that were pouring from his eyes and running down his cheeks, nor the convulsive fluttering of his eyelids, which were fragmenting that tragedy into thousands of bloody shards that were pricking every centimetre of his body and soul.
He cried out in a hoarse, suffocated voice, the scream of a man dreaming, and he had the impression that his cry had snuffed out the bulb, abruptly plunging him into the gloom of the underground chambers. But soon that silent darkness was pierced by a mournful dirge and became animated by shadowy, sinister presences: ghosts cloaked in black carrying a litter which bore the bloody tatters of a large dismembered body. Behind them growled the beast, its eyes phosphorescent in the dim light and its mouth foaming, held tight by ropes and tethers, yanking its keepers this way and that with immense strength. They were dragging it to its final destiny: to be buried alive with the human meal that would have to satiate it for all eternity.
Fabrizio screamed again and then, tired of fighting it off, let himself sink into a well of silence.
H E WAS unaware of how much time had passed before a light stung his eyes and a voice shook him fully awake: ‘Professor! Professor! Good Lord, what has happened? Are you ill? Shall I call a doctor?’
Fabrizio got to his feet and wiped his forehead. The confused image peering out at him slowly took on the familiar features of a person he knew well: Mario, the security guard.
‘No, no,’ he replied. ‘There’s no need. I must have fainted. There’s nothing wrong, I feel fine, I promise you.’
Mario looked sceptical. ‘Are you sure? You look pretty awful.’
‘Perfectly sure. I was working down here, but it’s so damp and there’s no air . . .’
‘You’re right. This is no place for you to be working.’ The security guard lifted his eyes to the blown-up photo on the wall. ‘Good heavens! What on earth is that?’
‘It’s nothing, Mario,’ said Fabrizio, swiftly rolling up the enlargement. ‘Just bones. Lord knows how many you’ve seen.’
Mario got the hint and changed the subject. ‘Listen, they’re looking for you upstairs.’
‘Who’s looking for me?’
‘That carabiniere lieutenant. His name’s Reggiani.’
‘Do you know what he wants?’
‘He says it’s just to talk with you . . . I’ll bet you anything it’s about that second bloke they found murdered. He’s already asked me not to breathe a word about it. I don’t know how he knew that I know.’
‘That’s his job, Mario.’
‘Anyway, I haven’t spoken to a soul, but people know about it. Word gets around. People are scared.’
‘That’s understandable.’
‘You said it. So should I show him to your office?’
‘Yes, do that. Tell him I’ll be right there.’
Mario walked back up the stairs and Fabrizio turned to look at what
Dripping with sweat, Fabrizio could not control the furious beating of his own heart, nor the tears that were pouring from his eyes and running down his cheeks, nor the convulsive fluttering of his eyelids, which were fragmenting that tragedy into thousands of bloody shards that were pricking every centimetre of his body and soul.
He cried out in a hoarse, suffocated voice, the scream of a man dreaming, and he had the impression that his cry had snuffed out the bulb, abruptly plunging him into the gloom of the underground chambers. But soon that silent darkness was pierced by a mournful dirge and became animated by shadowy, sinister presences: ghosts cloaked in black carrying a litter which bore the bloody tatters of a large dismembered body. Behind them growled the beast, its eyes phosphorescent in the dim light and its mouth foaming, held tight by ropes and tethers, yanking its keepers this way and that with immense strength. They were dragging it to its final destiny: to be buried alive with the human meal that would have to satiate it for all eternity.
Fabrizio screamed again and then, tired of fighting it off, let himself sink into a well of silence.
H E WAS unaware of how much time had passed before a light stung his eyes and a voice shook him fully awake: ‘Professor! Professor! Good Lord, what has happened? Are you ill? Shall I call a doctor?’
Fabrizio got to his feet and wiped his forehead. The confused image peering out at him slowly took on the familiar features of a person he knew well: Mario, the security guard.
‘No, no,’ he replied. ‘There’s no need. I must have fainted. There’s nothing wrong, I feel fine, I promise you.’
Mario looked sceptical. ‘Are you sure? You look pretty awful.’
‘Perfectly sure. I was working down here, but it’s so damp and there’s no air . . .’
‘You’re right. This is no place for you to be working.’ The security guard lifted his eyes to the blown-up photo on the wall. ‘Good heavens! What on earth is that?’
‘It’s nothing, Mario,’ said Fabrizio, swiftly rolling up the enlargement. ‘Just bones. Lord knows how many you’ve seen.’
Mario got the hint and changed the subject. ‘Listen, they’re looking for you upstairs.’
‘Who’s looking for me?’
‘That carabiniere lieutenant. His name’s Reggiani.’
‘Do you know what he wants?’
‘He says it’s just to talk with you . . . I’ll bet you anything it’s about that second bloke they found murdered. He’s already asked me not to breathe a word about it. I don’t know how he knew that I know.’
‘That’s his job, Mario.’
‘Anyway, I haven’t spoken to a soul, but people know about it. Word gets around. People are scared.’
‘That’s understandable.’
‘You said it. So should I show him to your office?’
‘Yes, do that. Tell him I’ll be right there.’
Mario walked back up the stairs and Fabrizio turned to look at what
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