Serpents's Heart

“Not a word about this is to be said to the outside world. What happened here must never be known.”

This has to be a record for the longest, most uncomfortable silence. Here I am with my American grad student, in a luxury vehicle on my way to the Vatican City library, accompanied by a member of the clergy. Myself, a stout Atheist: travelling in the middle of the Catholic Church’s playground. This must be my lucky day. It is a nice city, I’ll give them that.

We’ve been tasked to look over some recent finds by the Church’s own scholars, and to verify them as legitimate works of the Church from the sixteenth century. Granted, in my field I am an expert on such things, but I’m not entirely sure why they’ve asked someone outside their own faith to investigate. I’m not complaining mind you, as I’ve been told there’s a significant payday in it for me and the chance to look over something so rare, possibly dormant for a few centuries, is rather exciting. I just wish I didn’t have to be escorted the entire way from London.

As we passed under an archway, the bishop glanced out the window. “We’ve just passed the main gate to the study you’ll be working at, Dr. Hunter.”

“Excellent,” I replied. “I look forward to starting right away.”

“Once we get to the building you will be escorted by guard to a restricted storage facility within the library,” he continued. “Once there, you are not to leave unless in the presence of a guard. If there is anything you need for your task, all you will need to do is request it, and it shall be done. About how long can we expect it to take?”

“I cannot answer that,” I answered. “It all depends on the parchments’ conditions, language used, age...”

The bishop nodded. “I understand. Just please have it done as soon as you are able.”

“No need to worry, we will work as fast as we are able,” I reassured. “However, there is one thing I wanted to ask. I thought the Vatican housed some of the most prominent Biblical Scholars on earth. Why do you want an outsider like me to authenticate documents? Especially considering I don’t share in any of your beliefs…”

“You are one of England’s, if not Europe’s best with such matters. As much as I’d rather use our own people in this matter, there comes a time when outside help is needed,” he replied sternly. “If the task requires that which is outside the Church, we will do what is needed. As for the reason we need your assistance, it should become clear when you actually see the documents.”

The car pulled up to a small brick building with no real identifiers, far secluded from much of Vatican City. The outside was plain, save for a large cross above a large metal door. My grad student and I were let out of the car with nothing but a quick good luck before it retreated back through the gate. Standing outside of the building was a guard draped in a red uniform who approached us.

“Good afternoon, you two must be the researchers,” he said, extending his hand.

I nodded, taking his hand. “That we are. My name is Doctor Robert Hunter, and this is my assistant and grad student, Virginia Wreeth. We are eager to get started.”

“I shall be your escort for now, if you would please follow me,” the guard said, opening up the doors.

We entered the main room of the building, which unlike its plain exterior, was actually quite lavish. It was a library with books stacked up on shelves reaching from floor to ceiling, decorated in gold trim, with portraits of Biblical events and characters. The guard led us down the main room past many robed men scouring through books and penning notes in journals.

“Whatever knowledge is contained in these books is at your disposal,” the guard advised as we walked. “Just request what you need, and the men up here will find what you need even if it is not contained within these walls.”

“Why can’t I just come up here myself?” I asked.

“I’m sorry, that is not possible. It’s out of my hands,” he replied.

We came upon a small door at the back of the library. When unlocked, it revealed a small spiral staircase. At the bottom lay a secondary, smaller library, a table, and a small wooden box. The box itself was unremarkable but very old. It was about a foot long and six inches high, not large, but enough to carry some important documents. The outside was stained, remnants of paint that had either rotted or faded with time. Virginia and I knew whatever was in this box was what we had travelled to see, and it carried significant importance to the entirety of the Church.

“I will be waiting outside,” the guard said, handing me a radio. “Should you need anything please do not hesitate to ask.” The guard climbed back up the stairs and exited the room. The door lock clicked, sealing us in as it shut.

“This place gives me the creeps,” Virginia said, digging through our bags. She pulled out a box of latex gloves and approached the table, pulling her red hair that fell normally to her shoulders up into a small ponytail. “I think it’s high time we find out what all the fuss is about.”

“I couldn’t agree more,” I said, also donning a pair of gloves. “Let us see what history has forgotten.”

Gingerly, I removed the lid to the wooden box, making sure that I treat it as if the wood may crumble to dust at any moment. Inside was something wrapped in a piece of cloth. Carefully I unwrapped its contents, and what lay within the cloth was a small stack of now yellowing paper. I took a page out and laid it on special felt covering. The writing on the paper was made by hand, not by press, and the ink was remarkably vibrant as if untouched by the hand of time.

“Doctor Hunter, I believe I recognize this script,” Virginia said after examining it. “I think this is Enochian.”

“I believe you are right,” I said, “the ‘language of the Angels,’ first penned by self-proclaimed mediums John Dee and Edward Kelly in the late sixteenth century.”

“But wait… What’s this character?” Virginia asked.

That was a surprise. Indeed there was an odd character penned within the paper. In fact, there were hundreds. I’d looked over many sixteenth and seventeenth century documents containing Enochian Script, but never had I seen these character variations.

“Is this still Enochian?” she asked.

“I believe it still may be,” I replied. “I know they went through various versions of the script before coming to what is now considered to be true Enochian. What we are looking at may be in fact some of the oldest of the script itself. This may be why the scholars at the Vatican were unable to authenticate it. What we have here is something that may have been forgotten by history.”

None of this made any sense to me. The more I studied the documents beginning to end over and over, the more puzzling it became. It was Enochian Script, without any doubt, but it was peppered with these odd symbols that aren’t part of the language. Regardless of how much I looked at it, I just couldn’t put any meaning to those symbols. This must have been the reason they wanted me to look at these documents. If I didn’t know, surely the Vatican scholars wouldn’t have known, either.

Virginia had since gone to sleep on some crude cots they set up for us. I suppose I shouldn’t have been surprised we couldn’t get a bed, considering we were not allowed to leave until I had something to show for my work. I should have probably slept too, but with a puzzle like this, all I would do is to lay in bed awake, thinking about the symbols taunting me. My time was better spent researching, in my opinion at least.

Though I may have been stumped on the strange characters, I was able to translate what was between them. As I translated the Enochian I knew, it was clearly a retelling of Genesis, specifically just the story of Adam and Eve. It wasn’t a direct copy of actual Scripture, but rather a condensed version ending abruptly the moment Adam and Eve were ejected from the Garden. Unlike the rest of the pages, the final page wasn’t completely full of text. It ended a little over the quarter of the way down the page. It felt like there should have been more text, but they couldn’t or wouldn’t finish it. It was the last line of the retelling that was the most interesting to me:

Then the Angel slew the Serpent and Mankind’s damnation was ensured.

“What does this all mean?!” I vented in frustration.

“Are you still looking at that?” Virginia asked, yawning and walking over.

“I’d be able to sleep better if I were any closer to figuring out this enigma,” I sighed, “so I’m going to get some sleep after a bit. What time is it, anyhow?”

She pulled out her phone and chuckled. “A little after eight in the morning. You’ve been up all night. Did you at least find anything?”

“It appears to be a condensed retelling of the Eden saga,” I replied, “but it ends strangely. It feels like there is supposed to be more.”

“Nothing on the strange characters?” she asked.

I shook my head. “Nothing. I’m stuck. I’ve not been able to find them anywhere, and I’ve not been able to find anything that remotely resembles them.”

“Well we know what the documents say, why not just go with that and let’s get going?” she suggested.

“There’s more to it than that. They want the truth, and these pages are saying more than they first reveal,” I said. “It’s about my intellectual integrity. If we can crack the code here, we might find a wealth of new knowledge lost to us by time.”

“I should have realized. You’ve always been like this. Go sleep, and I’ll take over for now,” she smiled.

I nodded. “Thanks, Virginia. If you find anything, don’t hesitate to wake me.”

I rested my weary bones on the cot… the uncomfortable cot… I suppose it was better than the floor. I shut my eyes and tried to sleep. Even though as exhausted as I was I just couldn’t fall asleep that easily. As long as the puzzle remained, rest eluded me. “Now it’s not just those strange symbols. What does that last passage mean?”

Then the Angel slew the Serpent and Mankind’s damnation was ensured.

In every version of Genesis that I’ve ever read, there was no mention of an Angel killing the serpent in the garden. Why would they have added that? “The Serpent in genesis is often thought to be Lucifer himself, though it is never stated. Could a simple Angel actually kill Lucifer? Is there really no devil lurking in the pit of Hell? And what does it mean by our damnation? Aren’t we all entitled to be whisked away into heaven should we repent?”

I couldn’t wrap my head around why that was so important, and why nothing followed it. Maybe it was the threat of heresy… Then why leave that sentence intact? That’s when I had an interesting thought… Those characters…

“The missing passage!” I shouted as I leapt from the cot, running to join Virginia.

“Doctor? It’s only been an hour, shouldn’t you be resting?!” Virginia asked with a confused look.

“There will be plenty of time to sleep when I’ve uncovered all there is to know about these documents… or if I die. Either or, I can’t sleep now,” I replied. “I believe these symbols are hiding the rest of the passage that abruptly ends. There are enough characters peppered about the seven pages to easily fill that space and then some. The questions are: why were they put here and what do they say?”

“Well perhaps I can point you to an answer,” Virginia said. She went over to a picture of one of the letters, magnified. “I believe these aren’t new characters, Doctor, but rather made to look as such. What do you notice?”

I carefully scrutinized the image, and after a moment I realized what she had found. “Absolutely remarkable!” I gasped with reverence.

They indeed were still Enochian characters. Whoever penned these documents managed multiple, perfect, overlapping strokes of the same character, each at a differing orientation, hiding its original form. There must have been five or six different angles, but once I saw the image it was clear as day. I grabbed the document she took the picture from. It was barely visible, to the point that if I hadn’t seen the enlarged image I would have never guessed it was just a simple trick of the quill that had me stumped. It was magnificent. Never in my studies had I seen this. Hundreds of times this writer did this… But the question of why still remained.

“There must have been a reason they did this,” I said. “We have to uncover the meaning behind these.”

It took us a bit longer than I had anticipated to correctly identify each of the hidden characters. Each one had a distinct cover, and it took our combined efforts to determine its original form. Our efforts, however, paid off. With each character we unveiled, the tale it was trying to tell became ever clearer. Several days later we had completed the hidden message. What it finally revealed was rather fascinating…

The Angel took his holy sword and cut into the flesh of the Serpent. The Angel reached into the Serpent and pulled out its still beating heart. The heart then hardened into a ruby of unequaled brilliance. However, the Serpent still lived. The Angel then tore the Earth beneath his feet asunder, a path to the realm of Hell.

“With the Serpent’s Heart I curse you! With the Serpent’s Heart I curse Man!” proclaimed the Angel. “By the touch of a mortal hand, your bond to hell will be broken and you will be freed. Your kind may ravage the mortals, and suffer they shall, but by the hand of Man you will be cast back into the pit forever more.”

Before the very eyes of the Serpent, the Angel threw the ruby over the horizon, its destination unknown.

“You may send me back to the pit but my return is all but inevitable, my brother. You know that eventually Man will succumb to greed,” the Serpent spoke. “As the sun does rise, so too I shall return to reclaim my heart, and may my wrath be upon all Creation!”

The Angel dropped the Serpent back into the depths of Hell and sealed the passage into the pit. Upon his return to Heaven, the Angel was greeted by the wrath of the Almighty. Angered by the Angel’s motives to punish both The Tempter and Man, God cast the Angel from heaven, and commanded him to watch over the Serpent’s Heart. Should love for Mankind return within him, only then may he return to Paradise. A warning to all mortal men who yet walk the Earth: the game has begun.

“Quite… grim,” Virginia noted. “Not anything I’ve ever read in the Bible.”

“And for that very reason I assume why it was hidden within,” I added. “You would die if you proclaimed your heresy back then. I’m still unsure of its meaning, but I suppose that’s something we’ll need to find out on our own.”

“I guess that means we’re done here?” she asked.

I nodded. “All that is left is to test the age of the ink and of the paper. I believe we can verify this document is real without any doubt. No forgery could have been done this well. Plus we have the added bonus of the translation to give them. Perhaps that will equate to a better payday! Please, prepare the tests, and I will go inform the guard to have our most gracious host return.”

Virginia nodded, and started setting up the final phase of our authentication as I climbed the stairwell to the door. Normally I’d have used the radio, but I preferred to deliver the news of our completion in person. It’s just the kind of professionalism I enjoy. I knocked three times in quick succession, and the door was unlocked and opened by the guard.

“Good morning, Doctor Hunter,” the guard said with a smile. “What can I do for you?”

“I would like to get some breakfast for us two if you don’t mind, and while you’re out can you pass on a message to our employer?” I asked.

“Of course!” he said, grabbing a pen and paper. “What’ll it be?”

“We will have everything ready by this afternoon, and I wish to present our findings.”

As I returned to our specimens, Virginia had gotten the tests ready, waiting for me to return. “I never imagined this would be how I studied for my PhD,” she noted.

“Well that’s what you get when you are paired up with England’s premier researcher, my dear Virginia,” I snickered. “Didn’t Harvard have anything for you when you went back from studying abroad?”

“They did, but when the opportunity came up to work with you, I couldn’t pass up the chance,” she replied. “Besides, travelling with you I’ve learned far more than I could by choosing what I had at home, which was nothing more than observing someone who would just be reading over some old Civil War-era documents and nothing more.”

“Dreadfully tedious,” I nodded. “Not everything you’ve done with me was exciting, but I do suppose my pedigree does drag me all around Europe and beyond.”

We donned our goggles, took a few very small snippets of the documents, and placed them in three beakers of clear liquid. After a few moments they changed color and Virginia carefully removed them from the chemical soak. “It should only be a few moments until we know for sure.”

“How is that fiancée doing?” I asked.

“It’s been hard… me being over here for an extended period.” she lamented. “But we know it’s all worth it in the end when I come home.”

“That is if you ever get back home, my dear,” I said with a grin.

“What are you implying, doctor?!”

“Nothing seedy, I assure you. I have been thinking about this for quite some time, and you’re perhaps the best graduate student I’ve ever taken on, Ms. Wreeth. Not only am I going to recommend you for your doctorate, but I would love for you to become my full time assistant. However, that would require a tremendous sacrifice on your part.”

“I’d have to move to England, wouldn’t I?” she asked.

“I’m afraid so. However, the choice is yours. Do not rush the decision. Give me your answer when you have it.”

She nodded with a sigh. I knew the choice would be hard, but I knew she would come to the best decision. Within a few hours, from our tests, we concluded that these documents were the real deal. The paper and ink were made from materials from the time, so we were confident that we had the findings we had been sent to obtain. We organized our data and awaited the visit from our hosts, who arrived in the late afternoon.

Though the bishop who had accompanied us since our arrival in Italy was in the small group that had come, the person who actually sent down the orders to have us look at these documents was a much older member of the clergy. I estimated he was in his seventies. He dressed in a vibrant red robe, trimmed in gold. He hobbled down the stair case on a wooden cane, using one of the men with him to help him descend. He was stoic and emotionless, his gazed fixed upon me.

“Doctor Hunter,” he said slowly. His voice was raspy and quiet. “I have come to see the fruits of your investigation. What do you have for me?”

A little perturbed by the lack of an introduction I nodded, and motioned for them to gather around the table on which we had placed the artifacts. I shot a gaze to Virginia, and took a deep breath.

“Well, let’s start with the physical documents themselves,” I began. “As old as these documents are, they are in absolutely remarkable condition. I was frankly quite amazed to see how delicately they’ve been stored, and even more so how well they are preserved, if they indeed have not been removed for some three or four centuries. The paper has more than started to yellow, and is no longer pristine, but the ink that is on the pages hasn’t shown any signs of aging.”

“Naturally, I would assume that means they are forgeries,” he commented.

“Normally I would agree, but in this case they are authentic,” I continued. “The contents that make up the paper and the ink are positively from the era they were supposedly drafted. No materials in either are used in the modern day.”

The old man paused, rubbing his chin. “So if I understand you correctly, what we have here are true documents drafted by the church some three-hundred years ago.”

“Possibly, but we have no way of proving who authored the documents,” I said. “Regardless of its anonymity, however, perhaps what is most interesting are what they tell us. Please take a moment and read for yourselves.”

I passed out a cleanly typed sheet containing our translations of the Enochian Script, and each person eagerly took it to read over what we had found. What first started off as a look of excitement shortly turned to horror and dismay.

“What is the meaning of this blasphemy?!” one cried out.

“This is surely some horrid joke! They contain lies!” another said.

Soon the room erupted in angry protest to the document. It looked bad. The old man finished reading, and he sighed just a moment. He held up his cane and slammed it against the stone floor, quieting the room.

“You are regarded to be the best of your field, Doctor Hunter,” the old main said. “You are certain this is what is contained in the documents?”

I nodded. “I may not share the same beliefs as you, but that does not mean I will drag the name of your most beloved beliefs through the muck. What you have in your hand is the God-honest truth of what is contained in these documents. You may hold me to my word.”

The old man closed his eyes for a brief moment, taking in a deep breath. “What you have given me is indeed troubling, but through no fault of your own. You were merely the man who brought the words into light. As you said, great care was taken in preserving these documents, so I must confer with my superiors on the meaning of this text, and what should be done with them.” He pointed the cane to the table. “Gather up everything pertinent to the investigation. Not a word about this is to be said to the outside world. What happened here must never be known.” He hobbled over to Virginia and me, and handed me a folded sheet of paper. “Before you leave Vatican City stop by this address, and you shall receive your compensation. Please gather your things, you are free to go.”