SALVE ROMA! A Felidae Novel - By Akif Pirincci Page 0,64

suit. Maybe for once he had been too cheeky in his macho world and had gotten his comeuppance. Nevertheless, he kept his composure and acted as if nothing had happened. If anything, he was still in the mood for macabre actions. The old baptismal font from the chapel was directly in front of him, and the silver bowl was filled with almost black blood. The Roman dipped his free hand, including the Rolex and the golden cufflinks, into the dark soup and stirred. His fingers carried out a naughty lapping, and now and then blood drops dripped off the tips.

»The evil has many faces, Francis«, he repeated my own words from the afternoon. In this strange chamber they resonated as if we were in a dripstone cave. »And it has the power to change its appearance. It can invade even the best soul and exploit it for its noxious purposes.«

Although the dream machine had borrowed shreds of recent experiences, the wounded guy reminded me of another. Why did the macho have the gunshot wounds of the hooded guy, whose wounds must be in exactly the same spots?

»In order to conquer the evil, the balance of the world must be restored, Francis«, the wounded went on. »Unfortunately, the world’s balance is connected to the balance in your heads like the coating of water-repellent plant leaves is connected to modern car paint.«

»I know it’s about the hearing aid«, I said and congratulated myself to finding the key to a case in a dream for the first time.

Across the blood-covered man’s dark sunglasses flew starlike light reflexions. His smile broadened, and he quietly whistled out of the corner of his mouth.

»Smart little guy!« he approved. »One should always know what’s up and what’s down, what’s wrong and what’s right. In short: You give us your unique balance, and we the miracle to balance out the world again.«

»You will fail«, I said. »Something, someone, me, the decent humans, maybe even the Almighty himself will wipe you and your sinful deeds from the face of the earth! And the only miracle that you will experience will be your hot performance in hell!«

The smile abruptly disappeared from the tanned face, and the whole coldness of this man, who was hidden only by ridiculous accessories, turned up unconcealed. He grimaced as if he found my words disgusting, his lips turned into a small line.

»Got it, you also are only a friend of this noncommittal peace, the peace of soapbox oratory and phony televised debates. It’s always the same. Barely one is willing to make sacrifices for the good cause. The good ones though, the heroes, the true Christians will bring definite peace to this world like a miracle. Look here!«

He sent the cigar flying through the air and reached into the blood soup with both hands, causing the fluid to move. Heavy waves, which made the blood slop over the edges of the baptismal font, took turned with fountains, which dashed up into the air, and the loud bubbling of blebs. It looked like the dream-butcher tried to catch a big fish, which flailed around in panic. Eventually, he fished a little truss out of the blood and presented it to me with an angry face. Although it was totally soaked in blood, I instantly realized what it was. The bloody thing, that started to stretch itself cozily as if it awoke from a blissful nap, was a fellow. I knew this fellow very well. After the Oriental Shorthair had finished the stretching exercise in his master’s hands, he turned his head to me and opened his turquoise eyes.

»Samantha is dead!« Antonio said.

I also opened my eyes and faced Antonio’s wedge-shaped head that was bend over me.

»Francis, Samantha is dead!« he said.

His front paws still pressed against my flank. Obviously, it had taken him a lot of juggling to arouse me from my deep sleep. Without having done the usual stretching, I jumped up and on all four paws. I was instantly awake.

By now almost all of the candles had burned down. So I must have been in the arms of Morpheus for quite a while, which by the way agreed with me very well – aside from the nasty dream. In the concentrated twilight the chapel had appeared cozy, now in the light of only a few candles it reminded of a creepshow. The altar and the cross upon it resembled a morbid scenery, left alone the baptismal font, which was still filled with the miraculous