Demongelics The Temple of VERITAS

Demongelics

The Temple of VERITAS

DeAnrus McCallister

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Smashwords Edition

COPYRIGHT 2012 DeAnrus McCallister

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DEMONGELICS THE TEMPLE OF VERITAS

Demongelics Series - Part One

ISBN 978-0-9846613-1-2

(ebook) ISBN 978-0-9846613-2-9

Book design by Wojciech Zwolinski

Copyrighted Material

Chapter 1

Dorian Berringer walked the property of the manor one last time knowing, before long, his father Drake would have him summoned for this mysterious ceremony to take place later that evening. He took several deep breathes in an attempt to calm his nerves as he looked down the hillside toward the lake.

It was already dusk, and he sat under his favorite tree that allowed him an overview of both the lake and the Manor, which had the look of a castle with its towers and peaks covering the main building of 28,000 square feet including 34 bedrooms. He had absolutely no idea what the total could be if he included all the other buildings on the sixty acre estate.

He usually took a swim in the private indoor pool, but tonight swimming in the lake, even though it was becoming cool with September upon them somehow, felt right. Dorian laid down on top of his linen black robe allowing the breeze to air dry his naked body. It was always quiet and peaceful in this place, which he had returned to so many times before. Dorian always lived on the estate for the full eighteen years of his life, barely stepping outside its fortress stone walls.

He ran his hands through his long mane of dark hair, removing it from his face. It was often unruly, but he didn’t mind, being it was practically the only hair that covered his pale skin. Besides, he often went about his business with his hood drawn down covering most of his face. He wondered if anyone outside of his father even knew what he looked like, being his mother had been removed when he was born. All he was told is that she was simply an anonymous surrogate.

Dorian felt such an overwhelming obligation toward his father and the Temple. He was well aware that he was being groomed for leadership and would one day be expected to fill his father’s shoes. On one hand, he was grateful that his father was only 52 years of age. He knew this meant that it would be a great deal of time before the responsibility landed on his shoulders.

On the other hand, it meant many years ahead of study, dedication, loyalty, and perseverance standing at his father’s side. He was literally at his beck and call, barely able to make a single move without his permission. Dorian most often stayed on the compound, only leaving to travel with the council when they had speaking engagements or conferences.

Even then, he was his father’s protégé following close, serving in any way he was asked for the intended purpose of their travels. Most often, no one spoke to him directly. His father didn’t want him tainted by any outside distractions or negative influences. Dorian usually stayed focused on books having fast tracked his education, being schooled by scholars in the Temple’s educational center on the estate.

Dorian’s thoughts drifted all over the place, eventually landing on a conversation with his father that happened several years ago. He was grateful that he could be so open about his homosexuality. Drake began to question the fact that he appeared uninterested in the female body. He would comment that it was unusual that he never gazed toward the opposite sex.

Having grown up in an open community, nudity wasn’t foreign to him in certain circumstances. Yet, Drake could see a clear and present disinterest toward female companionship. He knew his father’s mistress Elaina had her own sleeping quarters because his father was openly sexually active with other casual acquaintances within the congregation. Dorian had witnessed his father’s desires first hand. He was well aware of his unending urges that never seemed to be fulfilled.

Dorian cringed at the thought of being touched by his father and felt conflicted because he longed to be in the arms of someone who truly loved him. He agonized over the sad fact that he might never find love due to his restrictive lifestyle. Who could he ever confide in? Who would dare to stand in the way of Drake? Their intimacy was a private matter between them that he wasn’t allowed to discuss.

The breeze picked up, stirring his senses and redirecting him to the present moment for which he truly was grateful. His swim in the lake had been exhilarating; the walk through the pasture of rescued horses had been heartwarming. He so loved nature and appreciated his father’s dedication toward the resurrection of creatures that had been neglected or even abused.

He had become so consumed in his thoughts, he hadn’t realized two men from his father’s security detail were fast approaching. Startled by a voice in the distance, he opened his eyes. Sitting up, he quickly engaged protection into his robe. He could see one man waited at the bottom of the hill as Vincent Gomez, the guard seemingly assigned to him, continued ahead. Fully clothed, Dorian stood.

Good evening, Dorian, Vincent said. I’m afraid it’s time to go back to your chambers.

The past several weeks had been agonizing leading up to this final evening. Drake had practically put him in lock down, asking him to remain solitary. Dorian had been ordained as a Monk by his father with the Temple when he had become a teenager. Drake was the High Priest and the head of the order since his own father had passed.

Dorian looked toward the manor and could see in the far reaching distance headlights through the trees. He suspected they were bumper to bumper as they entered the gates and down the long drive, waiting for the valet parking to assist them with their vehicles as they pulled in front under the breezeway.

Vincent, how many are we expecting this evening? Dorian asked, hoping he would tell him something.

I’ve been advised that it will be standing room only, Vincent replied, wishing he could say more.

Dorian pressed forward in his usual gentle tone. Is there a formal dinner being served before they gather in the Temple?

Vincent held his arm out in the direction back toward the gentleman patiently waiting at the bottom of the slope, who was now on his radio checking in with another guard at the front gate.

Yes, Dorian, a formal dinner is being served while the Priests prepare for the congregation to enter the Temple. Tonight is by private invitation only; you know the drill, the council, top donors, etc.

Dorian could feel his heart beating out of his chest in anticipation. What is it again we’re celebrating tonight?

Vincent reminded him that when they entered the rear courtyard he must return to silence. They caught up with the second guard, who began walking behind them.

Vincent abruptly stopped and grabbed Dorian’s shoulders, and could feel his slight built beneath the robe. If I could tell you, you know I would. I’m bound to secrecy because Father Berringer wishes for you to arrive with innocence and purity in a full state of grace.

He pulled Dorian’s hood forward in an attempt to cover his face more, knowing his father’s expectations. He could feel his trepidation and wanted to comfort him in some way. He was quite fond of Dorian. Vincent enjoyed his innocence and appreciated his odd sense of humor, even though he never engaged him. He was concerned that his father was too harsh with him, but never revealed his opinion or questioned Father Drake’s position.

Dorian teased, Alright, how about this? If you tell me, I’ll approach my father about assigning you to a post that’s more intriguing than watching over me. Surely, there must be a position far better suited for you that requires a bit of brute strength.

Vincent shook his head, quickly looking around with uncertainty, wondering if there were already eyes on them. Young man, after tonight, no one will need security more than you. Well, maybe the front gate will draw the crazy people when this gets out. You know how the media can be.

I don’t understand. What exactly does that mean? Why is tonight different from any other service? Please, I can’t bear it, Vinnie. You must tell me something, he pleaded.

For the very first time the man embraced him and whispered softly in his ear, You’ve come of age, Dorian; your life will soon change forever.

~ ~ ~

Chapter 2

The prayer rituals were fully operational. All the Priests and Priestesses along with their Priesthood holders had completed many symbolic traditions in accordance with the scriptures and tenants of the Temple.

Many had travelled worldwide, arriving for this special occasion which they had all been preparing for since Drake had assumed full leadership of the congregation after his father’s death. The convergence of the light and dark was upon them all, soon to be embodied before the elite members of both the Temple of VERITAS (which in Latin means truth) and The Berringer Foundation.

The Temple held space for 800 to be seated, ultimately able to house 1000 in these times of special circumstances. Every seat to the charity banquet had been filled for the reception dinner. The manor was all lit up, and the ballroom brimmed with a formal elegance and excitement in the air.

The main building was to be housing sixty guests, and there were additional accommodations available on site in other building structures suitable for more guests. This event not only fulfilled its prophecy, but it had become immensely profitable, allowing the Foundation to continue to rise far beyond its initial expectations.

This pleased Samuel Thornton very much, who was in attendance with his typical crew who worked as his staff, not only for the Temple and Foundation, but for his own Enterprise as well. Introductions ensued as usual during the reception, the part that Samuel despised most about social functions. He could see his overweight Cousin Newton Fuller and his new wife approaching.

Samuel politely offered a firm handshake. Evening, Newton.

Newton, being somewhat obnoxious in Samuel’s opinion, responded, Well, hello there, Cousin. It’s the big night tonight, huh? What a terrific turnout. Looks like everyone showed.

Yes, it does, Samuel countered, knowing he had to introduce his staff hovering around him. Newton, you know my Assistant Ramon Garcia, and my Regional Director Shelby Nielson, right?

Of course. Yes, pleasure to see you both tonight, Newton said, kissing Shelby’s hand. What a lovely lady you are, Shelby. It’s especially good to see you again, my dear.

She smiled in response, removing her hand as quickly as she could, remembering Samuel mention he was a pervert. Shelby listened to Sam suggest they go get a drink, seeing that Newton moved in close wanting to bend his ear as usual.

Samuel stared toward the entryway hoping someone he knew would walk in the door to help aid his escape. So, how’s married life treating you, Newt?

His new wife Jessica was engaged in a conversation with the people behind them. Fairly well, Sam. Sorry you couldn’t come to the ceremony. It was a beautiful event.

Samuel couldn’t help but notice his new wife was voluptuous, to put it nicely. Sorry about that, Newt. You know how it is when I have to travel overseas.

Jessica turned around. Oh my God, Sam, so good to see you again, stranger.

She instantly wrapped her arms around him, offering an unspeakable embrace. He felt as if he literally couldn’t breathe for a moment. He looked down, being she was quite a bit shorter than he, and felt as if he was drowning in her bosom that was bursting forth from her lavender gown.

Look at you, Mr. Chief Investment Officer, in your fancy black tuxedo. Tall, dark, and handsome; so many ladies here tonight have their eye on you. Are you going stag this evening?

He’d known Jessica for some time, not sure why Newton married her. He was hoping he would have landed someone more subdued to tone him down. Instead, this woman made him far more pronounced, as they seemed to compete for floor time with each other.

Jessica blurted out, Was that your gay assistant standing here with you before? Not waiting for an answer, she purged on, He’s one of those Hispanic fellows, with the strong accent. He sounds like that Dog Whisperer guy that I love, what’s his name?

Samuel rolled his eyes. Yes, he’s my assistant, Jess, and I believe it’s Caesar Milan that you’re referring to.

Just then Sam’s closest friend and associate came up behind him. He was hoping to have seen him first so that he could escape.

Hey there, Mr. Omaro, Newton said boldly.

Sam turned around and shook his hand. Apollo reached out and pulled him in, offering the proverbial shoulder press and back pats. Hey, buddy, good to see you, man. What’s up there, Newt? Can you believe this shit? I was in a procession line for over a fucking hour trying to get in here.

Samuel smiled. Yeah, she’s packed to the rafters tonight. Did you come with Clarissa?

Apollo scoffed, Yeah, I did, you little prick. Next time you can ride in the stretch with your own fucking mother. That’s all she did the whole way in from the city was talk business. She’s a demanding woman, my friend. It reminds me why I don’t talk to my own God damned mother.

Samuel couldn’t help but laugh. Did the good doctor join you?

Apollo grabbed two drinks off a tray of champagne being offered, handing one to Sam. He took a long sip. Crystal, nice; although I’ll need something stronger in a moment. There’s Dr. Hammond as we speak. Ask him yourself about your mother, if you don’t believe me.

Sam looked over now, seeing Clarissa working her way across the room seemingly guest by guest, which bought him some time. Hey there, Elliott. Sam shook his hand, widening the circle allowing the doctor to join in the conversation.

Good evening, gentlemen, Elliott said.

Greetings ensued all around. When Apollo noticed Jess had moved toward another conversation, he lowered his voice. Jesus, Newt, is Jessie’s ass getting bigger or am I fucking seeing double?

Always the wise guy, Apollo, Newt snapped. At least I can remember her name after I’m done.

Apollo shot back, Well, that’s real good, Newt, and when your legs get tired, her ass can also be used as a seat, being it sits out like a fucking shelf.

Sam shook his head, Alright, people, let’s remember why we’re here and dial it down a notch.

Elliot offered, Has anyone seen Dorian this week? I haven’t been able to get anywhere near him. I was hoping to examine him one last time before tonight to see how he was doing, but Drake wouldn’t let me even look at him.

Samuel just listened to the others, feeling as if he didn’t really know Dorian. He’d seen him on occasion pass by in a crowd, not sure what he even looked like being he was always fully covered in that black robe.

Elliott continued, Last I saw him he’d dropped a tremendous amount of weight, and I understand he’s been fasting for almost a week, according to my sources.

Samuel looked at him with a quizzical expression. Sources, Elliott? What is this, espionage?

Apollo chimed in, What the hell, Doc? Why don’t you give us the down low about what’s happening tonight. Have you heard anymore specifics in regard to how they plan on doing this union of light and dark?

Elliott stated, Gee, Apollo, my guess would be that you and Newton would know more than I being you both sit on the Advisory Council. Moreover, Samuel, you sit in on the board meetings.

Samuel responded, Yes, but I only work on the financial aspect. I don’t get involved with the ceremonies. That’s more council meetings, in terms of the Priests and so forth.

Apollo jumped in. Yeah, right, Sam, they just have you working on their bake sales.

Newton offered, I wish I knew what Samuel did. He holds the real seat of control. Money is the true pulse that keeps the organ in organization flowing.

Samuel tried to bite his tongue by ignoring Newton’s perceived ignorance. Clarissa seemed to arrive right on cue.

Boy, she can sure sniff out the scent of money, even if just in conversation. I bet she knows exactly what’s going on tonight, Apollo remarked.

Good evening, fine gentlemen, Clarissa greeted the group in an organized fashion.

She offered her cheek to each individual, ending with her son. Samuel, my darling, don’t you look devilishly handsome this evening. She turned to Elliott. Is it not hard to believe that my son is still unattached? He’s the youngest one standing here. What are you now, dear, 28 years old?

Samuel offered a blank stare, never being a real fan of his mother. I assume you were there, mother; unless I need to be calling you by a different name.

She smiled, wiping a slight smear of lipstick off his cheek. Yes, 28 years. I can hardly believe my son could possibly be that old. Perhaps if you’re this sarcastic toward the women in your life, it would be no wonder that you’re still single.

She turned her attention to Apollo. In fact, I haven’t seen my son date anyone in quite a long time. Have you, dear? Is he secretly keeping his affections hidden from his mother?

He tapped his glass to hers. Only I’m keeping my affection from you, my dear girl.

Oh, my darling escort to this joyous occasion, if only you were a tad younger, we might just be able to make that work. She brushed her finger down his nose. Now be a good boy and fetch me some scotch from the bar.

Of course, love, as soon as you dish me the itinerary for this evening. Apollo was face to face with her, hoping she would open up. He watched the others step in closer. He knew full well she always obtained privileged information.

She only offered, My beloved husband would have loved to be here this evening. He was the first board member of the Temple to join Drake Sr. when he founded this blessed society. He worked hard to build the foundation from a real grassroots effort. He drew in so many affluent members here; I now see many fine families bringing forth their children, some of whom now work quite progressively to keep the Temple and the Foundation in good form.

She continued as she gazed out at the large mass of people socializing while consuming cocktails. I’m grateful to have taken his seat on the board and am proud my son is the backbone of this fine establishment. He’s Drake’s second-hand man when it comes to building funds and creating colossal mergers with other members and their businesses. There are so many, I can hardly remember all their names any longer. Samuel, you’re a true genius.

She raised a new glass of champagne, offering a toast to her son for keeping their financial vision alive and well. We’re all reaping the rewards of our hard work, including our dearest leader, Father Drake Berringer.

They all toasted Drake when Apollo persisted, So what’s the story with Dorian? What’s his fate this evening?

Clarissa answered in a sincere quieter tone, knowing full well what the night’s celebration was all about. I can only tell you that Drake is making an honorable offering to this body of believers, involving both Dorian and Skylar, his daughter. I believe in my heart we’ll all experience the true essence of both light and dark. This is the ultimate merger, that not even my own talented son or deceased husband could ever have accomplished.

Just then the honored guests were being asked to enter the dining hall to enjoy their dinner. Samuel didn’t even have to look to know that Ramon had been standing by his side. He felt the need to head off toward the Temple to see if he could find Drake and speak with him before the event to offer his best. He knew it would mean a great deal to him in the absence of both of their fathers.

~ ~ ~

Chapter 3

Skylar Berringer, Dorian’s half-sister, sat pensively in her mother’s office outside the Temple. She, too, had been asked to remain solitary the last several weeks, not being told anything about what was to come.

Her mother Elaina Lakeshire, Drake’s mistress, and the High Priestess, entered the room in an elegant black gown, with her long blonde hair endlessly flowing from a Tierra placed upon her head. Her father Drake was in step, following right behind her.

Elaina hung a garment bag on the back of the office door, slowly shutting it to close them in. Skylar, your father and I wish to speak with you now.

Drake, dressed in black formal attire which he traditionally wore for service, seemed somewhat more elegant looking as well tonight, hair neatly greased back almost shining like glass, his goatee and mustache equally as black as the hair on his head. He was adorned in ornamental pieces displayed proudly on his jacket, along with rings on