The Curse Of The Moloch (7) "Briri, Riri, Iri, Ri..." The believers listened to the words of the three old hags till they heard the sound of the winged creatures of the night in their call of the hunt. They turned, momentarily, to the cry, but as they returned to hear the words, the creatures in black were not in their sight. The mystic faithful took it as sign and readied themselves for departure. As they left the thick walled, wattled hut near the woods, winged creatures of the night hovered over them, calling out their warning to the mysterious and fearful ways of Shabriri, the demoness of the water. "BEWARE!!" � � Chapter Fifteen "YES!! YES!! I will not forget," screamed the cowering boy between the snivelling flow of tears. His tear-stained faced, covered by one of his elbows, spoke of a deep hidden fear. The terror filled eyes watched every movement of Miz' Jezebel, Jeremiah's bitter and unforgiving mother. Her fleshy body shook as she expressed vehemently her disapproval of her son's being. Her careworn face was a mask of contorted anger. The boy stared fearfully at her rabid features as she lashed angrily at him with her merciless tongue. Jeremiah Micaiah's very body shook and trembled as she continued to shout at him in the loud and fuming tones of her punishing voice. "Jist like yer pa, always fergettin... an' yer shirt tails hangin' over yer britches... White trash ye r'... sloppy y' be an' mighty forgetful... Land sakes what ah'm t' do wit' such a critter!" retorted the furious woman, as she shook her head in anger that tossed her reddish hair askew. She continued, for a added minute or two, to admonish the pathetic creature with her angry tongue. Suddenly, in a fit of pious reverence, the woman dropped on her knees, raised her clasped hands high in supplication and piously called out in prayer; her voice cried out plaintively as she earnestly beseeched the heavenly father to hear her words. The fearful woman was filled with the superstitious terror of retribution for her son Jeremiah in the fiery pit of sacrifice for his so-called sinful acts. Over and over she called out in prayer to the blessed 'Lordy'. "Lordy, Lordy save me lil' an' only son Jeremiah ... Lordy d'ye hear me words. Ah'm a' cryin' t' ye t' save him frum them damned fires of th' Moloch . . . Th' lil' feller meaning no harm, jist a bit fergettin'. Ah hear th' call of th' Moloch threatinin' him wit' th' hell fire fer his sinnin'. Lordy have pity on his poor soul. D'yah hear Lordy save him, ah beg ov ye!" But her plaintive cry was only to spare her son from being her sacrificial lamb for the past trans-gression which she endured in its remembrance; a heavy burden of damning sin she carried in her trying life. Jeremiah Micaiah gazed transfixed in extreme fear as he watched the changing form of his mother as she writhed and twisted on her knees in an appearance of agony. From the depths of her throat a loud shrill voice cried out, "in thick rising smoke burning in sin; he will walk through the flaming altar of the Moloch." The frightened boy cowered in terror at the mention of the evil 'Moloch', terrified of the punishment of the terrible flames of sacrifice for his sinful acts." Terror haunted the pathetic creature as he watched as his mother grovelled along the bare floor on the crook of her elbows and knobby knees, screaming and writhing in a semblance of anguish and torment. "Lordy, Lordy," she screamed from her spittle smeared mouth. Then, sudddenly, silence, as she fainted in an hypnotic trance; her body laid still on the harwood floor with her extended clasped hands still clenched in the form of supplication. Fear gripped him, paralyzing any effort to check on his mother's well being. Jeremiah knew, from past experience, that waking her from a deep religious trance would lead to addditional harranguing from the vile of her tongue, coupled with the curse of the Moloch. The terrified young'un slowly backed out of the room fearful of the terrible vengeance of the Moloch that will come and take him to the fiery altar as a punishment for his so-called act of sinning. Slowly he went. Twice Jeremiah turned his thin-framed body around ever so carefully to have a quick glance at the prostrate form of his mother. With the pulsating fear of the coming of the Moloch beating in the depth of his thoughts, he quickened his pace and ran from the room. His feet carried him swiftly through the poorly furnished hall; the creaking of his steps on the old floor boards under the worn carpeting increased his encroaching fears. Rushing to the stairs leading to the upper floor above, he cast a furtive glance behind. Seeing an imaginative being to his sight in the dimly lit recess of the hall he rushed up the stairs two at a time without pausing to catch his breath; and he rushed quickly into his room, slamming the door tight as a means of false secruity. Jeremiah Micaiah's quavering body pressed hard upon the door. The lanky and pitiful creature, with gangly legs and wiry arms protruding through patchworn clothing, pushed harder and harder on the thin wooden portal, but it was no barrier to his fears racing through his tormented mind. His wide grayish eyes were wide open ever expectant to a coming danger; and the shaggy brown hair shook on his prickled scalp. Jeremiah's very body shuddered at every nerve, fearful of every imaginative thing possessed in his mind. His shaded room was gloomy with closing of the light of the late afternoon hours which slowly turned the shabbily furnished room to one of shadowy fearful terror that filled his tormented mind with the sight of dreaded demons and devils of every shape and colour. The dark shadows on the pine boards were seen through terrified eyes as evil spirits together with demons that were trying to break through the walls and enter. The dim light, which entered the confines of the glominess casted dancing shapes in its weak beams, and saturated his terror, filled mind to added forms of evil and danger. Pulsative fear overcame Jeremiah. He escaped to his cot and covered his head with his pillow to escape the terrors that enveloped him. Every noise increased his fears - the noise of the wind whistling through the cracks around the window frame, the creaking floorboards of the old house, a hound dog baying in the distance. Tighter and tighter the young'un held the pillow against his ears trying with sheer desperation to shut out all sounds, trembling in the very effort. Suddenly the terrified boy heard the drill of music, a cacaphony of blowing horns, the clash of timbrels, the trilling of reed flutes and the booming of taut skin drums. Fear prickled the very core of his body..... The sound of the primitive orchestra grew louder and louder enveloping Jeremiah Micaiah in its raucous blaring. With fearful curiosity he slowly, but ever so slowly, emerged from the covering of his pillow. To his surprise the left side of his room was opened to a brilliant barbaric ceremonial pageant that coursed its way through wide and meandering passages of a rough cavern carved in the rock. A high priest, dressed in elaborate ceremonial vestments, was leading a procession of feverish worshippers. He was attended by twelve alcolytes, twelve in number, both male and female, dressed in their ceremonial dress and carrying feather topped golden staves. Their cadence of march was marked by the pounding rhythm of the following primitive orchestra. As they made their way along the passages of the wide stone rough passages the holy order passionately declaimed in feverent voices, "Abraxas Yah Yah Yahu, Moloch, Moloch - the Moloch is the sun by day and the god of eternal heat of all kinds." Shuffling erratically to rhythm of the blaring of the ecstatic music, the procession coursed its way to the celebration of their ceremonial ritual of the burnt offering. The pagan worshippers had come to the mystic cave for the solemn rites of their deep belief; rites that insured that their transgressions would be absolved through the purity and richness of their offering of the sacrificial lambs to the fire god, the Moloch. As they meandered through the passages of the cavern the faithful called out to the god of eternal fire to hear their prayers. They cried out to the Moloch to accept their rich concecrated gifts of three of their first-born of their loins as an antonement for their moral offences committed in the past. The passionate idolaters feverishly cried out repeatedly to the fire god for pardon for their iniquities. Some were naked, their clothes torn from their bodies in the frenzy of the barbaric worship. They, together with those who were still in the tatters of their garments, pummeled their bodies with repeated blows. They called out again and again their fervent belief in trance-like expressions. Flaming tarry torches lined the rough walls of the corridors. The burning brands flared menacingly and dripped their blazing viscous oily mixture into a tiny stream of fire onto the rough ground. The flickering torches casted macabre shadows on the coarse walls as they leaped and pranced eerily to the movement of the procession. The dancing shadows appeared, at first, as high as the tremulous figures, but as they approached each burning torch, they were absorbed by the shuffling body of the ecstatic crowd of idolaters. Jeremiah Micaiah's eyes widened in curiosity as he scanned the rough and jagged stone walls of the cavern pitted with niches and opening. Within were small images that watched with cold unseeing eyes. The idols were dedicated to assist the fiery and vengeful god Moloch in his reign as the god of fire and storm in the nether world. Some of the idols were sculpted in terracotta relief or roughly moulded in clay, and others casted in bronze or iron. The goddess Tanit, the consort of the fire god, with palms turned outwards, offered protection and benediction. The war god Ashur was ready with bow and arrow. Jeremiah watched as some of the faithful stopped in their hour of devotion to the fire god, and reverently placed votive offerings of different food and drink in front of the idol of their belief. Together with the sacred dedications, the believers placed holy incantations written on small scraps of parchment near their gods. These sacred incantations, inscribed by priests, were pleas to protect the penitent named on the scroll from evil spirits, demons and disease; and a few that called for the blessing of a good and rewarding life. The curious boy stared in awe as the procession drove in agonizing frenzy through the winding underground passages that led to an immense cave; its irregular walls carved from a past flow of water. The rough surface continued the display of wavering shadows of the ecstatic worshippers as they shuffled expectantly to a large altar set on a rough stone platform. On one side of the altar was a massive bronze calf-headed idol depicting the image of the vengeful god, the Moloch, ever-waiting with ready open arms. The fire god was seated on a low stone throne; at the base of the image was a deep fiery open cavity; the glow of the burning embers within emphasized the fierceness of his terrible image. Sulphurous fumes, fetid and damp, spumed from the hollow pit of its body; the fetted stench of rotted burned flesh of past offerings defiled the cave's jagged stone walls with their rank odour. The hushed idolaters watched as the elaborately robed holy man and his submissive acolytes climbed the rough stone steps to the altar platform. Then, with a slight shuffling movement to the rhythm of the primitive orchestra, the servants of the fire-god formed a half-circle around the image of the Moloch and the wide fiery pit. The high priest, with arms akimbo, stood alongside the fierce bronze idol; he raised his arms as a sign for silence. At the signal of the beat of the taut skin drums the shaman called upon the holy attendants to bless the faithful and to purify them with smoking raised vessels of sacred fire. The acolytes turned to vast crowd of worshippers and chanted in low voice the blessing of the god of fire; they waved bowls of sacred fire over the crowd, and the smoke offered its purification. Following the ceremonial rites, the holy attendants lifted their sacred staves high and turned to the bronze calf-headed image of the Moloch, calling to the idol of fire to hear and to accept their pleas and petitions. In an ecstatic frenzy they chanted: "Fire of the Altar! rushing and mighty! Heavy the blow of thy wings sweeping past! Wild wailing wind of misfortune and sorrow to those, that do not sacrifice to the fires of the Moloch." Then the horns blew in a fevered pitch and the drums boomed their rattling cadence. At this crashing signal, three innocent children were led to the fiery altar. They were dressed in simple white tunics with a wreath of sacred olive leaves circling their heads. One was crying softly; the other two were in an hypnotic shock. As the children stood in front of the altar, the head priest with assistance of a attendant led the children, one by one, to the the image of the Moloch. He removed the thin covering and laid the naked body of each child on the raised arms of the unseeing calf-headed idol. Then all the holy ones loudly exclaimed, "Abraxas, Yah Yah Yahu, accept our offering of our sacrificial lambs for the retribution of our sins of the past; accept them in your name so that the coming year will see the fruitfulness of our labours, Yah Yah Moloch." With a firm hand the head priest rolled each child lamb into the yawning cavity. As they slid into the fiery ovens the other attendants danced to the music of flute and timbrels, drowning out the pitiful shrieks of the offered. Then the blowing of the horns and booming of the drums beat their primitive rhythm; it signalled the acceptance of the sacrificial offering to the god of eternal fire and storm. The crowd roared in unison as they witnessed the acceptance of their sacrifice to the Moloch. They chanted in a hypnotic fever and pitched their prayers to the god. Their ecstatic celebrants called out feverently from their hoarse throats, "Abraxas Yah Yah Yahu Moloch, Moloch. To the great lord Moloch, the king of eternal fire, a great and noble sacrifice offered, breath for breath, blood for blood, life for life. Yah Yah Yahu Moloch...." Trance-like Jeremiah watched in horror at the sight of the cere-monial rights to the terrible pagan fire god, the Moloch. His hearing was deafened by the cacophonic sounds of the primitive musical instruments that hovered over the roaring of the frenetic horde of worshippers. As he stared in awe and terror at the final act of the ceremony, a commanding voice called and beckoned in a subdued tone, "Jeremiah, Jeremiah Micaiah." Over and over the whispering sounds of the calling of his name was heard. Jeremiah rose trembling from the cot and he followed the command of the unseen voice. Slowly he entered into the hellish temple and hypnotically made his way along the uneven path to the fiery altar. He footfalls quavered to the very core of his being as he carefully climbed the stone steps to the presence of the terrifying calf-headed image of the Moloch, the fire god of the nether world. Suddenly he returned to a semblance of conciousness when he stood on the rough-hewn platform. In that moment the high priest reached out and grabbed him, and tried to drag him with force to the fiery pit. The boy turned and saw in an instant the face of his mother's grimmacing features in the agony of her priestly duties; her flowing red hair glowed in a fierce rubrical halo of fire. With a quick motion the claw-like fingers of Miz' Jezebel, the fierce avenger against the ways of sin and damnation, grasped his trembling body as she fiercely attempted to bring him to the yawning pit of the sacrificial fire. He fought her with all his strength but her hold was tight as she dragged him slowly, slowly to the waiting bronze arms of the devil god. He screamed and fought deperately as he tried to escape from the clutching, clawing fingers of the priest. Jeremiah Micaiah cried out in the agony of deep-rooted fear. He screamed and screamed as he woke trembling and frightened in his darkened room. � � THE MAGIC OF THE WORDS When the clouds darkened and foul misery rode the winds, the observant folk of the settlement in the hollow swore by the sacred words of the 'Good Book'. They deeply believed that one who has faith in the 'Lordy' "has a part in the World-to-Come." They spoke their belief in the language of tongues as they uttered the 'magic of words' which is inscribed in the holy writings of the ancient prophets and disciples. As a child lay on a sick bed, the ones who kept the faith chanted, "May the pestilence of the body and all unclean spirits of the soul depart, go away, fly off, be closed up, be melted for ever and ever." And the believers knew that the presence of the good 'Lordy' would hear their pleas and heal. They called out the 'magic of words' when the mind is filled with blackness of troubling times, "That the unclean spirit that is in the soul may they depart, go away, fly off, be closed up and never disturb the rest and quiet of the soul. Amen, Selah!" And the believers in the righteous ways of the 'Lordy' knew that the light would shine and clear the troubled mind. The ardent believers of the righteous way knew of the mighty power of the 'magic of words' when they are threatened with evil spirits, " May the evil spirits, the evil eye, the evil tormentors, active and alive, be lossened, be annulled, may they depart and never return with their curse." And those who were true to His spirit knew that the evil that threatened to possess their lives will cease and dissappear forever. They believed and called out the faith of the 'magic of words' as contained in the wonderous text of the Ninety-first Psalm written by those who have deep faith in the 'Lordy': "Thou shalt not be afraid of the terror by night... Nor of the pestilence that walks in the darkness, Nor of the destruction that wastes at noonday. And ten thousand at thy right hand; But it shall not come to thee..."
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