The Stone of Blood by Tony Nalley Page A

maybe it was unlucky for him, dependin’ upon how you looked at it. I believed Mr. Jones so therefore it must have been true. Although, I’d to admit that I did have my doubts!
     
    I am not sure why he laughed at me when he caught me takin’ a second look at that peach tree though, but I didn’t mind.
     
    I found out a few years ago that Mr. Jones had never married.
     
    From what my mama told me, through old newspaper clippings that had been pieced together and from old letters that he had written and kept hidden away, we found that Mr. Jones had once been very much in love.
     
    She had been beautiful. He had asked her to be his wife and she had told him ‘ yes ’. But in a tragic turn of events, an automobile accident had taken her life.
     
    I could almost imagine him sittin’ there, alone in his room by his bedroom light; as he read and reread her letters.
     
    Though many years had passed, he had never stopped lovin’ her.
     
    They found a picture of me, my mama, my daddy and my baby sister on the top of his television set the day after Mr. Jones went to heaven. We still have that picture. And we will always remember him.
     
    Mr. Jones was a friend of mine.
     
    ***
     
    September 1793
     
    Two men stood in shadows within hallowed chambers, deep within the catacombs beneath Notre Dame Cathedral in Paris , assessing the details of their departure and seeking wisdom from the word of God.
     
    Much had changed within this old city in such a very small, almost infinitesimal amount of time.
     
    While the Revolution had thrown down the Catholic doctrines that had suppressed its people through strife and inquisitions, it had brought with it extreme liberal and atheistic ideologies.
     
    The de-Christianization had begun at first throughout the country of France , with the sacrilege of the Church and its people; churches became stables, warehouses, and pigsties.
    Christian altars were used as urinals. Sanctuaries were desecrated where pagan rituals and extreme sexual perversions were performed and statues of Saints were beheaded. The one true God had been replaced in the eyes of the people via the new French government u nder the leade rship of Maximilien Robespierre.
    Over the course of a few months France had all but eradicated its Christian principles, teachings and houses of worship. Notre Dame Cathedral had itself been turned into a ‘Temple de la Raison’ (Temple of Reason), a temple of a new religion, created to replace Christianity where great liberal minds such as Rousseau and Voltaire sat upon alters of worship.
    Werewolves danced in the open then, in the carnage and fury amidst ritual fires that raged high against the night’s sky! Where whiskey and smoke met with a confused reason, and from where mortal man could no longer distinguish themselves from the animal that was the beast!
    “Un emplacement doit être décidée prochainement….” Un homme déclaré. “…Si notre démarche est d’être un succès.”
     
    “ A location must be decided upon soon…,” One man stated. “…if our move is to be a successful one.”
     
    “Laissez-nous chercher le conseil de Dieu, et prier pour sa sagesse.” Dit l’autre, comme il ouvrit le livre qui se trouvait devant eux et lire les mots, en plaçant ses doigts sur chaque verset.
     
    “Let us seek the council of God and pray for His wisdom.” said the other man as he opened the book that lie before them and read from the words, placing his fingers upon each verse.
     
    “Mais pour la femme a donné deux ailes du grand aigle, afin qu’elle puisse s’envoler vers le désert, vers son lieu, où elle est nourrie un temps, des temps, et une demi-heure, de la présence du serpent.” (Apocalypse 12:14)
     
    “But to the woman were given two wings of a great Eagle, that she might fly into the wilderness, into her place, where she is nourished for a time, and times, and half a time, from the presence of the serpent.” (Revelation 12:14)
     
    The eagle