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(or: The Narration of Professor Greenwood and Mr. Durant)
Notre Dame in Pairs France
The Narration of Professor Greenwood and Mr. Durant
Part One of Three
Mr. Durant and Professor Greenwood were two scholars who lived around the turn of the twentieth century (but the specific time we are talking about is now: 1917) a little less than a hundred years ago in Paris, France; Mr. Durant was once the head of a faction of scholars and Professor Greenwood taught courses at the Paris University.
Up to this point, the time this story too root, both men had lead what you could call: simple and quiet lives; although within the city of Paris, they were well-known by most scholars, and somewhat heard of by the general public, but little more. This was all soon the change, for Mr. Durant and Professor Greenwood for they had found a scarce manuscript, dating to 200 BC, in the cellars of the once lived in house of Victor Hugo (whom was a senator in Paris in the mid 1850s).
"You know," said Mr. Durant to Professor Greenwood in Mr. Durant's library, "this might prove useful in many ways."
"I read it last night," said the professor, "I agree it could be sold for quite a lot of many."
"What should we name this unnamed script?" asked Mr. Durant.
"Yes, it should have a name according to its contents," answered the Professor.
And so they both sat back in the library looking at the ancient manuscript, written in an old Albanian dialect, that had existed perhaps back as far as 7000 BC, rewritten in 200 BC, in a clearer form of the same language, one both Mr. Durant and Professor Greenwood were proficient in.
The professor had been studying languages all his life, and the secrets of the unknown world of the old ones, or otherwise known as the Shinning Ones, the Angelic Renegades, and he knew they had kept records of their magic spells, and Azaz'el, one of the twenty leaders of the two-hundred renegades, taught humans some four-hundred years before the Great Flood had taken place, he taught them how to kill with magic swords and other weaponry. The book explained Azaz'el's methods, spells, secrets. It indicated any living thing could be conquered but first had to gather the energy to do so, and the power of this secret energy within a person could see into both worlds, could withstand the harsh elements of earth and the cosmic universe, could even time travel, and see what ideas were in an enemies mind before the enemy implemented his plans-this is document, or book, or manuscript was really a libretto of spell binding words and lines of words.
Mr. Durant read and reread the book studied the charts of spells in it, for a long time, and today he had brought his ideas with him to the meeting with the professor. And said to the Professor the book should be called, 'Azaz'el's Ancient Set of laws for Warfare.'
"That just might work" said the Professor.
"By implementing these spells, and learning the secrets of the Angelic Renegades of that time, we can be able to make things come our way, without any interference of governments perhaps," said Mr. Durant to the Professor.
They both decided to test this new idea out, but first Mr. Durant wanted to find the proper place to implement his experiment, it was 1917, the Great War was taking place. They were to go to the Western Front, known as Flanders, towards a town called Ypres, the area around Ypres was known as Salient, he picked this area out because it was fought over between 1914 to the end of the war in 1918, unknown of course at this moment in time, except it was ongoing. They both hid in Ypres Cloth Hall, which had been burnt in 1914.
It was on the 30 of July, 1917, Mr. Durant and the Professor found an odd, and isolated little farm near Passendale Church, a small village, five miles north east of Ypres, to rest the night away for the battle which would take place the following day. And so it did, and it stretched out until November 10, and the main thing was, for the professor and Durant, was to read this book with its enchantments, and to mentally build an invisible wall around Ypres so the Germans would not enter it, for it was close to the battlements. And it was said afterwards, Ypres should have been ransacked, but never was, and no one knew why, but the Germans seemed to have erased it from their minds. Yet the Passchendaele church was totally destroyed by shellfire.
All this seemed too perfect for both the Professor and Mr. Durant. Yet they both went back to Paris, hired a young couple to assist them in another experiment, the couples name were Mr. and Mrs. Sexton.
"Yes sir," said Mr. Sexton, "I understand you will be using me and my wife and our apartment for your experiments," and both Mr. and Mrs. Sexton signed an agreement to work for several weeks with the Professor and Mr. Durant, hoping for whatever success they were seeking might help them financially and it did, and all four lived in the apartment for the mean time.
The Professor late in the evening of October 25, 1917, sat quietly in a chair while the young couple was sleeping, and told Mr. Durant what he had done while he was away to London for the past week.
"I'm sure you'll say I should not have done what I did, but all the same, I did cast one of the spells in Azaz'el's volume onto the sleeping couple, each night while they were asleep.
"But why, they'll become aggressive, if not warlike?" said Mr. Durant to the professor.
"He is mentally becoming more aggressive already, and his muscular tone is even becoming more noticeable, as is his reflexes quicker, I saw him yesterday purposely bump into a stranger, trip a kid who was running, he is looking for trouble," said the Professor.
"From what you've told me," said Mr. Durant, "Mr. Sexton will be either a madam or a warrior soon!"
"And so will his wife," commented the Professor, adding, "until I saw the victory in Flanders, I didn't really have confidence in this book of spells, and warfare, and our little experiment now has also added to my faith in the book."
-On the sixth week, Mr. Durant and the Professor moved out of the apartment and back into their homes, paying the Sexton's the $1000-dollars they had promised. They were soon to find out through, in December of 1917, there was a slew of strangling in Paris, most in the Lexington Gardens. Reports about this appeared in the daily newspapers, that a young man and woman had killed seven strangers, some old, a few young, and even a school aged student.
On another occasion, in January in 1918, the Professor and Mr. Durant, having coffee at Caf de Flora, read about this couple running over a crippled man on crutches with his horse and cartage, and not stopping to help thereafter.
It was Mr. Durant that finally put two and two together, connecting the killings with the carriage incident, saying it was to the carelessness of his partner this was taking place, claiming it was the Sexton couple.
"Extra! Extra! Killer kills again near the Eiffel Tower!" A paperboy, by the name of Jack Stars, was yelling.
When Mr. Durant heard this, he grabbed a paper, paid the boy, and he and the professor looked it over, a police officer was now killed, beat over the head with a blunt instrument, and his head cut off.
The Professor was speechless, trembling with a cup of coffee in hand at the outside caf.
"It's that spell of his, everything inside Sexton's head is mad, he will kill his wife soon I expect, I am afraid for you and me!" said the Professor.
"Calm yourself old friend, you shouldn't have done what you did, but you did, and now we must find a solution; it is simple as that."
"I suppose I was too excited to think things through, or to wait for you to come back from London, so I cursed him several nights in a row. We must get to Mrs. Sexton; I do believe she is not as inundated by the spell as he," commented the Professor.
But Mrs. Sexton would not be there when the Professor and Mr. Durant would go to find her at her apartment, already she was gone, had packed her cloths and on her way to the train station, among the things she took was the written spell the Professor had chanted to her night over night. She was going to London to kill her mother, sell her property, and bring it back to her husband.
As she was walked to the station, Mr. Durant and the Professor had ridden by in their horse and carriage. They were feeling sorry for her, and Mr. Sexton was out at a caf eating his lunch.
At the station, she hurried towards pier four, and boarded her train; saw an older lady with her grandson, her heart pumping malice. However, she found her seat, and sat quietly, the old lady and young lad across from her.
The child, a boy of perhaps eleven seemed to have caused a great deal of excitement, it was his birthday and was headed to London to visit his mother and father, the grandmother was caring for the child, he was talking up a storm.
"Good heavens!" said Sally Sexton, to the boy, now sitting alone, "it would seem you should have some cakes and bread to eat, you look famished."
"No, I'm too excited to be starving Miss, but..." before the boy could say a word, Sally was coming back with a cake in her hands for the boy, gave it to him, and Sally sat back in her seat, and fell to sleep."
The Grandmother returned, which seemed to have been an hour or so she was gone, and returned with some bread and water, the boy had eaten what Sally had given him already and he likewise had fallen to sleep, like Sally. After another hour, at last the grandmother woke him up, handed him the bread, and Sally woke up at the same time, started walking around the train, she seemed to have disappeared until the train stopped, and she was seen walking through one of the doors, and then again disappeared. The grandmother had found out, by noticing crumbs from a cake the boy had eaten something when she was gone, given to her perchance by this strange woman who sat across from them-that at least was her best guess, and the one she would tell he police for the boy was very sick, several days later, the London paper read, "Boy dies, poisoned on train from Paris...!" And a poor sketch of Sally was drawn, for the newspaper.
News of this slaying spread quickly, even to the newspapers in Paris.
"This is getting out of hand," said Mr. Durant to Professor Greenwood, both eating at the Lipp's caf.
Suddenly, the Professor was attacked by a pain in his chest.
Just then, Roger Anderson, a novelist from America joined them, said, "I wish I knew this case better, about the so called killing couple, I could write a novel about them, I think this woman is the same one that helps her husband kill their prey in city here, what do you scholars think?"
They both nodded their heads as if it all was Greek to them, continuing to eat their chicken soup, as Roger sat next to them reading the paper, adding, "I know you fellows can't come up with any kind of guess who they are, but I suggest you purchase a gun, and plenty of bullets, in case they try to strangle you two old coots." And he laughed.
-A few hours later, Sally Sexton arrived at her Mother's home in London, met her mother, and they both chatted around the kitchen table. Then she put the few things she had brought with her in a small bag, in the guest room. And she talked aloud to herself, saying: "Now my dear husband, you shall see how a killing should be handled!" And then she walked downstairs again to talk with her widowed mother.
Soon after the Professor and Mr. Durant talked to Roger Anderson, they went to a nearby gun shop; they had been fed a good idea. Each of them purchased a gun, loaded it, and began their second trip back to the Sexton apartment, they were going to put an end to this needless killing (the reason they did not go to the police was they did not want to implement themselves, hence, end up in old age, living their last days behind bars).
The Professor felt the only way to destroy Mr. Sexton was to wait at his apartment, and when he came home to shoot him, Mr. Durant would be watching for him, as the Professor hid behind the second floor corner in the corridor, saying to Mr. Durant, "If we leave this to the police, they will make mistakes and somehow this all will never be settled."
When Mr. Sexton entered the hallway, all was very quiet; Mr. Durant motioned to the Professor, he was coming up the stairs, all of a sudden a rat ran across the hallway, and the Professor thought the noise was Sexton, turned a bit to peer down the hallway, saw Sexton, Mr. Durant hidden under an doorway arch, both of them now looking at one another, and the Professor shot his gun. Then he walked closer to look at the dead man, his face shocked him, he looked in his fifties, and he was actually in his early twenties.
They pulled the body into the apartment, as they had heard footsteps coming up the stairway to the hallway, and so they quickly went out and down the back fire escape.
Meanwhile, Sally was pacing the house, wondering exactly when she was going to kill her mother. She was an only child and knew she'd inherit all there was to inherit. She heard her mother sleeping, buzzing away on her bed, snoring that is, then it came to mind, why kill her with a knife, when she could burn the house down, and her in it, and collect the insurance, save her time from selling the house, she always had insurance, so why not.
"It's done!" she said, and the house burnt to the ground, her mother yelling from the bedroom window, and Sally hiding behind a tree outside.
Suddenly she heard fire engines, and she ran towards the house screaming: "My mother's in there, my mother's in there!"
"What happened?" said one of the firemen as they started to hose the house down with water. Sally was dumbfounded for words, and then a man shouted orders. In a few minutes the house was burnt to the ground, as several firemen carried long hoses to the house.
For a while everyone was busy, then everything was quiet, the fire burnt and filled the area with smoke. One could see rats and cats and dogs running about. A few of the firemen tried to enter the house but it was useless, too much fire and smoke. And after the fire, the body was dragged out of the remains of the house. For her, for Sally it seemed only to be a great adventure, but when she found out the house had lost its insurance policy for lack of updating its insurance payments (evidently the mother was lacking in funds), she said nothing, and simply returned to Paris on the first train she could find out of London, almost indifferent about the whole mess.
"She must also be killed," said the Professor to Mr. Durant, "whenever she returns and most likely it was her who set that fire in London last week. I bet she is in town now. To bad they did not put two and two together and figure out Mr. Sexton was the real killer, thus, we'd not have to do the job of killing her would we?"
Mr. Durant nodded his head in agreement.
Early the next morning, both Mr. Durant and the Professor sat idle in their carriage by Mr. Sexton's apartment building waiting for Sally. In spite of all the havoc she caused in London, and now finding out her husband had been murdered, she still felt she was the cleaver one of the two, perhaps just not finding the proper use of her deadly skills. But her mind would never be the same, and the Professor knew this.
What Sally liked the most was that she was becoming famous, or infamous, only that she'd like to have had her picture taken for the papers, instead of being called the unknown woman with the famous husband.
A few people showed up for the funeral of her late husband, to include Mr. Durant and the Professor. Actually afterwards they had tea and coffee at a local caf.
"How was your experiment?" she asked he Professor, innocently.
"You don't really know?" he commented.
"Now how could I," she said with a smile.
"I would be honored to know," she asked again.
Then appeared Lord Hamcater and sat with the threesome.
"I've been wondering Professor Greenwood where in heaven's name have you two been? Have you not heard of the murders going on in Paris; it is the biggest thing you will ever have a chance to talk about."
As they sat and looked at one another speechless, a new person became interested in the conversation, and stood close by listening, it was Doctor Hucklebone, Mr. Durant's family doctor. He could see the worry on his face, and wondered what had made him that way; he was mostly a happy, unmarried bachelor.
"I get the feeling," said Lord Hamcater, "you've discovered something big, and you are keeping it from us at the club, which you have not been for six months or so?"
"Lord Hamcater, you are an old friend are you not," said the Professor, "and I must be careful of course, so that what I've learned doesn't get out of hand."
"But perchance, we can all benefit from it, tell me what you are up to?" asked Lord Hamcater.
Then Dr. Hucklebone, took note of the woman's name wrote it down, and felt he'd perhaps visit her later, find out what this experiment was all about that they were talking about, he himself knew Mr. Durant and the Professor wrote many articles for the magazines in Paris, and perhaps he could pickup something out of this, and make a few bucks.
That evening, Professor Greenwood and Mr. Durant sat cozy around a fire in a hearth at Mr. Durant's home, trying to figure out their next step.
"Conceivably we should let in Lord Hamcater on our secret, he knows a lot of people that could help us, we really do not know what we are doing," said Mr. Durant to the Professor.
"Well, we end up with the same problem, he will call the police, and we get it now for murder, and no one can prove she did a thing, and I doubt Hamcater will want to be in on this anyhow. He will not care how we created madness in a woman's head, madness she doesn't even know she has. And if I feed this into his head, we got the same trouble all over again. It is best we destroy the book, it is cursed, and perhaps we are also."
"Sometimes," said Mr. Durant, "I think you are right, but should we not be fearful of her, she is in Azaz'el's world is she not, and she can't stop on her own now no matter what, I am a coward, you must be brave!"
-About this time, Doctor Hucklebone took matters into his own hands. He was about the age of the Professor, sixty or so, a short, but large boned man, he arrived by carriage to Mrs. Sexton's apartment. He climbed the stairs, a bit warns out at the top, knocked at her apartment door, and she let him in, after a short introduction.
"I wonder," said Dr. Hucklebone trying to find out what the Professor wanted with the Sexton's, "just what were these two fellows up to with you Mrs. Sexton?"
But he of course only cared about the experiment so he could make money; it was really no concern to him what carelessness he did, and at this point he simply needed to put together the puzzle.
"I'm not sure what he did," commented Sexton, "only that he lived here for six weeks, gave us some money-my husband and I, and hummed at night some chants, which seemed to give me some dreams that brought me back to a period of time where there was a great huge angelic war of sorts, the main person being called by the name Azaz'el, and in my dreams, he commanded a group of angels that taught humans how to war, to kill, such things like that. This Azaz'el one day found me, and made me his dragon, he took me from my husband and made love to me, he became a giant eel, and ate all those around me as if they were sheep-such are my dreams and seemingly reality."
"It seems to me it was more on the order of a nightmare than a dream," commented the doctor.
"I remember in one of these dreams, several angelic beings held a meeting, they wanted to stop Azaz'el, but he was too powerful, and it seemed like the Professor continued to chant at night his spellbinding words, lines of words, and it got to me and I had to dress like those folks in the days when they wore tunics. But I became more powerful by the name being fed me."
The doctor was quite taken in by all this; he drank down the tea she offered slowly.
Meanwhile, Professor Greenwood and Mr. Durant continued their conversation, leaving out their old friend Lord Hamcater. It was the following day the police found Doctor Hucklebone with a broken neck laying sideways in his carriage. And it was at this juncture, Sally Sexton, was starting to figure out, that the Professor had inserted some kind of demonic being inside her by magic spells by way of enchantments, or so it felt. One that seemed she was forced to allow being subjected to its character-will of its invader. As if the demon needed a shell to act out his evilness, and she was it. What little control she had was surfaced seldom, and raised to the surface by chance, and timing, when the invader was off guard.
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