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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/853183-The-Inner-Circle---Chapter-1
Rated: 18+ · Chapter · Thriller/Suspense · #853183
A man going no where joins a cult full of promises for him.
Introduction

This story is based on an album entitled “The Inner Circle” by one of my favorite bands, Evergrey. The story’s foundation, some lines and dialogue, and chapter titles are based on the songs from that album, but the names, a few characters, and many of the details are of my own creation. Also, there are three live acoustic songs included on the CD’s special addition release, which are tracks from a previous album. I will add just a slight bit from those live tracks into the story as I feel they fit slightly with a bit of tweaking. I would like to properly credit all who’ve had anything to do with the creation and release of the “The Inner Circle” and “Recreation Day” albums from band manager to the guy who cleaned up after the band after each recording session. I’d especially like to thank the genius minds of the members of Evergrey; Tom S. Englund, Henrik Danhage, Michael Hakansson, Rikard Zander, and Jonas Ekdahl, their great ideas made this all possible and more. If I left anything out that I should have said, I apologize to any effected by my error.

Chapter 1
A Touch of Blessing

Deacon Trellman sat on his unmade bed in his dark room. He took a puff off of his cigarette and blew the smoke into the growing haze above him. The clock/radio yammered on about some current event, Deacon wasn’t listening. The rain outside created a steady rhythm against the window. A flash of lightning lit the room; the dark metal of the revolver in Deacon’s hand glowed in the brief brightness. Quickly following the flash came the crack of thunder, drowning out the radio personality’s monotone speech and the tapping of the rain. Deacon took no notice, he just stared at the gun, stared at it as he had done for the passed week. For seven days he had slept for at most an hour each night, he’d wake up, light a cigarette, and stare at the gun.

Twice he had pressed the cool steel against his temple, once he even pulled the hammer back, but he had resisted squeezing the trigger thus far. How he held back from this temptation he did not know, as far as he could tell, he had nothing left. His job paid just enough for rent, food, and booze and barely enough for that anyway. His ‘love’ had just ran away with her dealer to some city, he didn’t care where. What he cared more about was the ring he had bought her that she took with her. The only thing he had left in life were alcohol and the couple of friends he had whom he went and drank with every weekend.

He lifted his right arm and put the gun to his head, the barrel combined with his sweat chilled him. His short, dark hair was drenched with perspiration. He puffed his cigarette again and clenched his brown eyes shut. He sat there, for how long he didn’t know. Finally, he let the gun slip away from his head. He stood up with a sigh, switched off the radio, and replaced the revolver in the drawer of his nightstand, next to the dusty crucifix he had put there a long time ago.

It was Saturday morning now and he was going to see his friends tonight, which he did look forward to. He sat down at his kitchen table with a beer and the television. He drank deep from the bottle, and at the circle designs at the bottom, he saw himself. He was wondering endlessly and aimlessly. Every path, every turn, every direction took him to the same spot. He was going nowhere. He needed something more in his life.


Father Herald Perry, head of the Inner Circle for fifteen years now, walked the halls of his inherited mansion. Mike Judd, Herald’s assistant, walked at his side. Herald was an older man; he joined the Inner Circle when he was twenty-five at the prospect of salvation from the true God. He quickly found favor with the head priest and when he tragically died five years later, Herald was given everything. Judd was next in line to succeed Herald. He was devoted to the Inner Circle, easily abandoning his friends, a surprising feat considering he joined two years ago at the young age of twenty-four.

Everyone who passed them greeted Herald with praise, everyone wore white robes, Judd’s garbs had silver trim on them and Herald’s had silver and gold, this easily signified status. They passed one of the many patrons of the Inner Circle; a woman named Tanya, heading towards the exit in outsider clothing.

“Where are you off to, Tanya?” Herald asked softly.

“Just going to collect some necessary supplies for my family and I, Father Perry, I won’t be gone long.” She smiled at them, an odd kind of smile that seemed to have been out of habit, not will. Herald bowed to her, “We will long for your return, go in peace.” She nodded to him and walked away. Herald and Judd walked the distance to Herald’s office. Herald sat down behind his desk; Judd stood near the door.

“I am proud of all this, Mike, very proud. God must be smiling upon us everyday that we have such progress. We are growing and we will continue to grow, until the Inner Circle will reign supreme, and God will shine down upon the earth.” Herald said in genuine pride.

“It is growing particularly well, sir, five new members in two weeks is wonderful. Regina and I are looking forward to our contribution to the Circle.” Judd had a monotone voice, barely any emotion at all.

“Yes, of course, that will be essential to our spiritual development. I thank you for agreeing to it.”

“Anything for the Circle, sir.”

Deacon had great fun with his companions. Maybe it had been a little too much fun. He passed out in the gutter on the way home. A woman carrying a bag passed him by, but then stopped. She looked at him, tried to shake him awake to no avail. She thought for a moment and she took out a notepad and pen. She jotted down something on a blank piece of paper and slipped the note into Deacon’s jacket pocket.

Deacon awoke out of his stupor two hours later and it was still dark. On the bright side, he was no longer drunk and that was the longest sleep he’d had in a week. He checked his pockets to make sure no one had stolen anything from him. He didn’t expect to be short, the town was fairly harmless, there was very little crime. He found his wallet in tact, but there was a piece of paper he didn’t recall having. He took it out and inspected it. It was folded in half, there were words reading ‘Dear Lost Soul,’ upon it. It was some notice from some wandering passerby. He crumpled it up and went to throw it away, but something told him not to.

Someone took the time to write it, so he should at least take the time to read it. He opened it and read through it, it said ‘Do not worry, brother, there are people who care for you. The Inner Circle cares for you. We will accept you no matter what. All is not lost. Salvation and love awaits you.’ Under the note was an address that Deacon knew was way out on the outskirts of town, a mansion he believed. Also, the word ‘Veritas’ was written.

He had heard that word before, in movies and such, but wasn’t sure what it meant. But, something about those words compelled him. It promised him everything he wanted. Acceptance, a family, love, salvation. ‘The Inner Circle,’ he thought to himself, sounds special.

“I’ve got to see about this.” Deacon walked over to his motorcycle and took off in the direction of the address.


About an hour later, Deacon was at the gates of the mansion he thought was abandoned. He walked his bike over to the gate and they were locked. He found a bell with speaker and pushed the button. A crackling voice of a male came through the speaker, it asked, “What’s the password?” Deacon wasn’t quite sure, but he tried out his hunch anyway. He pressed the button and spoke into the machine, “Veritas,” there was a pause. Then, the voice returned, “Enter, brother,” there was the sound of gears turning and the gates began opening. It was a fair distance to the mansion still, so Deacon hopped back on his back and sped down the drive-up road.

He found a large parking lot and left his bike there. He approached the large front doors and pushed the buzzer he found. That same voice asked for the password again and he answered the same thing again. There was a buzz and he tried the doorknob. It gave way and he stepped in. It was a grand lobby, beautifully decorated with paintings and rugs and stuff he couldn’t identify. On the left was a room with a glass window looking into the lobby, probably the security that let him in. The two men in there weren’t dressed in uniforms though; they had white robes on. One of them signaled him over.

There was a speaker in the glass, the man who signaled him talked into a microphone, “Welcome, brother, we would like you to go up those stairs,” he pointed to the large staircase in the center of the lobby, “go into the doors at the top and go down the hallway until you reach a door that says ‘Father Herald Perry,’ step in and explain that you are new. He’ll talk to you and see if you’re what we’re looking for.”

“Thank you,” Deacon replied simply. He followed the directions and found the door. He knocked on it and a voice from inside called him in. He opened the door; there was a man around his mid-forties sitting behind a great oak desk. Standing beside the desk was a younger man, about his own age.

“Welcome,” said the man behind the desk, “are we a new comer?” He stood up.

“Um, yes, sir. I was passed out drunk on the street and someone left a note with me saying that I should come here for salvation, among other good things.”

“Ah, it must have been Tanya, she was the only one out last night that I know of, a good heart on that one. So, what is your name, brother?”

“My name is Deacon Trellman, sir.”

“Ah, good,” he came around to the front of the desk, “I am Fr. Herald Perry, I am the head of this great, God-filled organization,” he took Deacon’s hands in his and gave them a firm shake. “This,” he motioned his hand towards the man standing beside the desk, “is Mike Judd, my successor.”

“Pleased to meet you,” Deacon said with a slight nod.

“And I you,” Judd said in his usual, monotone voice.

“Well, Deacon, you are seriously considering joining us in the Inner Circle?” Herald asked.

“Oh, yes, the note I received promised exactly what I’ve been looking for.”

“I am happy at the prospect of having you, but you must know, salvation comes at a cost.”

“Oh, um, I have no money, I…”

“Oh no, friend, we aren’t looking for that, as you can see, we’ve enough of it,” he laughed. “What we need is full cooperation, time, and most of all loyalty. You will move in here, only leave when you need something personal, otherwise we provide all necessity, and I must tell you most of your outside connections will be lost. You must fully agree and be willing to make these sacrifices.”

“I am perfectly OK with that,” Deacon smiled; he was in.

“Well, then, that’s great. I will show you your quarters, I will supply you with your white robes, you can go ahead home if you like and retrieve anything that you would like here as this will be your new home. But, I must warn you, you will be on a probationary period for the first few weeks, just don’t screw up, or you’ll be out.”

“I won’t screw it up, Father.”

“Then, welcome to the world of greater learning, my son. You’ve left meager things behind for a greater journey and joined a community with a higher purpose. You will receive a touch of blessing which no one can take away.” They shook hands and Herald took Deacon around the mansion. Deacon felt better already, could it be? Could he have finally found something?


 The Inner Circle - Chapter 2  (18+)
Deacon finds he may be worth more in this world than he thought.
#853316 by Abominae
© Copyright 2004 Abominae (ledzep at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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