VIII

A few minutes later, the scene at the McConnel house was one of defeat. Tersa’s parents were researching psychiatrists that she could go to, though they all knew it wouldn’t help. Alex had been invited to stay for dinner, which he accepted, but he spent most of the time on their back porch with Tersa as she tried to contemplate her bleak future.

“I was set to move out in a few months… finally.”

Alex turned and looked at her, “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, my artwork had been picked up for publishing in a new children’s book that was coming out. They wanted me to do the illustrations for an entire series.”

“That’s exciting.”

“I guess. It’s giving me enough money to rise above the starving artist status.”

Alex smirked, “Who says you still can’t do that?”

“What, go off on my own now, with this?”

“It can’t last forever. Maybe it’ll just go away.”

Tersa shook her head. She knew that Alex was just trying to cheer her up, but it wasn’t working, “You really would have made a good priest.”

“No I wouldn’t have. I should have realized that it wasn’t the life for me. I let my sense of adventure get the better of me.”

“Therapist then?”

“Maybe… but not anymore.”

Tersa bit her lower lip, “What did Father Moran say to you?”

Alex didn’t want her to know. He knew that the priest had suggested more therapy, but not specifically why. Still she had him cornered and he had a feeling that she wouldn’t let him avoid the question, “He basically said that you made the whole thing up.”

“What, why?”

“He said that… maybe you might be a little obsessed?”

“With what?”

“Well… me…”

A look of anger like nothing Alex had ever seen appeared on her face, “Are you serious? No offense Alex, you’re a nice guy, but you’re no Chris Pine or Orlando Bloom!”

“Wow… none taken,” said Alex sarcastically.

Tersa lowered her eyes and released the air from her lungs, “What I mean is that you were a nice guy and I liked hearing about your successes, but I wasn’t pining for you after you left. When you joined the seminary, I moved on and realized that I had lost my chance and I got over it. It was a high school crush, we’ve all had them. I have my own life now and I’ve worked hard.”

“He didn’t think that it was a coincidence that you happened to be outside of my house the other night.”

“Great… so now he thinks I’m an obsessive nut and a stalker? Let me ask you something, Alex.”

“Shoot.”

“Do you think I know how to sabotage a forty year old car in a way that you couldn’t easily have fixed or identified?”

Alex thought for a moment, “Well… no…”

“There you go.”

“You don’t have to convince me. I didn’t buy his reasoning either.”

Tersa nodded, “Well at least I know that you still believe me.”

“Not that it matters.”

“It matters to me.”

“Well you’re the only one.”

“Isn’t that enough?”

Alex looked at her oddly, “What are you talking about?”

At that moment, Sgt. McConnel came out the back slider door to talk to them, “So we’ve got a few recommendations of good psychiatrists that you can go to.”

Tersa shook her head, “You know it won’t do any good, Dad.”

“I don’t think so either, but I don’t know how else to convince Father Moran.”

Tersa clenched her fists, “I don’t think I want to go back to that church, or see him again. He thinks I’m some kind of obsessive fangirl.”

Alex smirked as she looked at him. There was a look of desperation in her eyes that made him quickly hide the smile, “Alex, isn’t there something that you can do? Anything?”

Alex sighed, “No.”

“But according to your books, in ancient times, lay people performed exorcisms. Obviously…”

“There is no way to know if those cases were actual possessions.” Alex interrupted. “We don’t even know how many were actually successful.”

“But you know the rituals. You know what we’re up against.”

“Yes, I know enough not to mess with something like this. I don’t have that kind of faith anymore. I am not the person you want. I told you what happened last time. I can’t…”

Tersa didn’t know what else to do. She was frustrated, frightened, and annoyed at the same time. She fought back the tears in her eyes as she glared at Alex, “What do you want me to do, beg? I don’t want to live like this. If theirs even a chance…”

“I killed that girl.” Alex blurted out.

“The girl in Rome?”

“Yes.”

“No you didn’t. That creature you talked about did. You said so yourself.”

“But I was the one that empowered it. I should never have stepped in to finish the exorcism. I wasn’t experienced or even finished with my training. All I did was make it stronger.”

Tersa kept her eyes on Alex as she spoke, “By the sound of things, that demon already had what it wanted and was fully capable of carrying out its wishes. You can’t be blamed for that.”

“I can and I do… God didn’t help me that day. Who am I to think that he’d help me now? You’d be gambling your life.”

“It’s my life.”

“Yes,” Alex replied, “and it’s my decision. You should go see the psychiatrist and when he says that theres nothing he can do, Father Moran…”

“Will do nothing and you know it.” Tersa said in an accusing tone.

Alex sighed. She was right. Father Moran was too much of a skeptic, especially for a priest. Tersa looked him in the eye again, “I don’t believe that you killed that girl. I don’t believe that at all. You shouldn’t have been in that situation in the first place. You reacted the only way you could have in that situation and you did the best you could. It was not your fault.”

“Maybe, but it happened.”

“Yes it did, but this is different. You’ve had more time. I… I know that you can do it. I believe in you, even if you don’t believe in yourself. That girl in Rome was not your fault.”

Alex tried to look away, but Tersa grabbed his head and looked into his eyes, “Please?”

Alex looked up at Sgt. McConnel, “And what’s your take on all of this?”

“Like I said, I’m not a man of faith, but what I’ve seen over the last few days has begun to turn my head. If you can help my daughter, please do.”

Alex looked up at the sky and then back at Tersa. He was trying to find a way out. He wanted to say no. A simple no would have put an end to it. Two simple letters put together and he would avoid the issue all together, but it wasn’t that simple. A no would likely spell doom for Tersa if the church wouldn’t intervene.

He finally gave in, “Fine, though I be damned for this. We’ll do it after dark. 3am.”

Tersa smiled and gave him a peck on the cheek, “Thank you, I know that you’re going against your better judgement.”

Alex was about to say that she was welcomed, but a sudden thrust to the side and a sharp pain in his cheek cut him off. He looked at Tersa to see that it was no longer her standing there. Her eyes were black and her lips were twisted into a hideous smile.

Alex didn’t back down this time, “Qui estis?”

“Ego sum, illa qui fuit incarceratus.” (I am she that was imprisoned.)

“Et ejiciam vos.” (And I will throw you out.)

The creature smiled, “I welcome you to try.”

At that moment, her eyes turned back to their normal color. A look of shock came over her when she saw the red mark on Alex’s face, “I… I did that… didn’t I?”

“No… not you.”

“I can feel it in my hand.”

“It was the creature.”

Tersa shook her head, “Do you see? I could really hurt someone… I…”

“I know,” said Alex.

He didn’t want to admit it, but it looked like he was doing the right thing by getting involved. She needed help sooner than Father Moran was willing to provide. So now it was a question of getting everything together.

Sgt. McConnel grabbed his daughter and held her tight by the shoulders as he spoke, “What do you need us to do?”

Alex thought for a moment before responding. He’d need the perfect setup if this would have any chance. He’d also need all the right tools, “I need you to put a crucifix above the head of her bed.”

“I can do that, anything else?”

“Yeah, go to St. John’s and fill a bottle of Holy Water, they usually have concecrated water in a pot near the door.”

“Will do.”

Alex sighed, “And make sure that Father Moran doesn’t see you!”

“Got it.”

Alex turned and headed for the door to get to his car. A worried look came over Tersa, “Wait, where are you going?”

“I have to go back to my mother’s. I need to reflect and center myself and… theres another tool there that we’ll need.”

Alex looked back and saw the expression on Tersa’s face, “I promise that I’ll be back to do this.”

“I believe you.”

Alex turned and headed out the front door. Good, because I’m not sure that I do…

 

 

---

---

Readers,

Do you have a question about writing, publishing, my stories, etc? Please feel free to post a comment or email me.

jimthewritingwizard@gmail.com

I’ll use those comments to select my next blog post.

I have been writing for several years, have 4 published works, experience with publishing and independent work, so I can hopefully be of assistance.

Please note, I only do one of these a day and will do my best to respond to everyone, but it may take some time.

Also, feel free to check out my works of Fantasy and Historical Fiction, Available on Amazon and where ever books are sold. See the link below:

http://www.amazon.com/James-Harrington/e/B00P7FBXTU

Thanks friends!

Catch you on the flip side!

-Jim

VII

The interview took over an hour. Alex got up and began pacing around the room. Every minute that went by felt like an eternity. What could he be asking her? Does her believe her? More importantly, would he be able to help her if he did.

The door finally opened and Father Moran appeared, “Forgive me, Tersa doesn’t want to come inside.”

Sgt. McConnel got up and headed for the door, “How is she?”

“I need to talk to Alex before I make any judgement, but I think you should join your daughter.”

The police officer nodded and stepped by the old preist. Father Moran turned to Alex and nodded, “It’s best if you come into my office.”

Alex got up and followed Father Moran into the next room. As the preist closed the door, Alex studied his surroundings as he stepped inside. The office had the same wood paneling and blue carpet as the sitting room. He saw pictures on the wall of family members as well as degrees and certificates. Aside from religious studies, Father Moran had also earned a Master’s Degree in psychology from the Boston College.

Alex felt like he was entering a shark’s tank as the old priest sat in his chair and looked up at the young man, “Please sit down.”

“Sure.”

Alex took the seat in front of the desk. Father Moran moved his papers and took off his glasses. His thin hair matched the white color of his beard, which he brushed trimmed down to stubble along the sides. “So Alex… how do you know this girl?”

“We went to High School together.”

“Were you two close?”

Alex shook his head, “No… we were two years apart. I don’t think we met more than once or twice.”

“So you didn’t really know her then.”

“No.”

“So why are you here now?”

“She was walking by my house earlier in the week during that huge storm. I let her hang out there until the storm passed.”

“Why was she out walking during the storm?”

“Her car broke down.”

“I see…”

Alex noticed the unease in his voice, “Father, what is it?”

The priest sighed, “Alex, I spoke with the psychiatrist who saw her and then to her parents. You were brought up quite a bit.”

“So she had a crush on me in High School, so what?”

“You don’t see it, do you?”

“What?”

“She still does, Alex.”

Alex rolled his eyes, “What does that have to do with anything?”

“Come on, Alex, you’re smarter than this. Think about it. She just happens to show up outside of your house the first night that you’re back in town after two years, she’s read your books, and she’s had eyes for you.”

“What exactly are you saying?”

Father Moran sighed. He clearly didn’t want to say it, but knew he had to, “I think she may have underlying psychological issues. I think she’s playing the damsel in distress to get your attention. She read your books, which go into great detail on the Church’s view of exorcisms, so she knew what to do.”

Alex was almost in shock, “What? You can’t be serious! How do you explain her voices, her knowing Latin, and the faces she’s made?”

“Latin can be learned, none of the voices described by her parents were outside the range a human can make, and the same with her faces.”

“Father, I have a degree in psychology too. You can’t seriously think that this is the case?”

The priest frowned, “I have doubts about what you’ve brought forward. I can’t take her case to the bishop when I don’t know that I believe it.”

Alex rubed his forehead with his right hand, “Tersa is not obsessive. She is not psycotic, narcoleptic, or any combination of the afflictions. I know what they look like. I know how terrible each of them can be but…”

Alex lowered his eyes. He didn’t want to say it. A sympathetic look came over Father Moran’s face, “Take your time.”

Alex sucked down a deep breath, “… they don’t frighten me.”

“Her afflictions did, I take it?”

Alex nodded, not looking up, but offered no other response.

Father Moran got up, walked around his desk, and put his hand on Alex’s shoulder, “I can understand your wanting to help. She is a fascinating woman.”

“It’s not like that.”

“Isn’t it? You know, despite my recommendation, I never thought that you were right for the priesthood. You were a steadfast believer of course, but you had a certain joviality about you that wouldn’t fit in. A priest’s life includes some level of seclusion that you would not have been able to thrive under. Your uncle was really the one pushing this on you, wasn’t he?”

Alex shook his head, “My uncle helped me choose a calling, leave him out of this.”

“As you wish… but Alex, look at it from my perspective. If you were in my shoes, would you really bring this case to the bishop, as it stands?.”

Alex shook his head, “No…”

“Of course not, his Excellency would probably give me a long lecture about due diligence.”

Alex was becoming despirate, “But Father, you didn’t see what I did. I think… I believe her case meets the criteria. What about the crosses? We put on in front of her and she almost jumped out of her skin, and…”

“And what?”

Alex didn’t want to say it. He knew what Father Moran would think, but he was running out of evidence, “My nightmares…”

Father Moran sat back down, “What nightmares?”

“I see her in my dreams now. She’s possessed and suffering like…”

“Like the girl in Rome.”

Alex looked up at Father Moran with a surprised expression, “How did you know about that?”

“I kept tabs on you.” Father Moran replied. “I know what’s been troubling you and why you left the seminary.”

Alex shook his head, “Great…”

Father Moran smiled, “Alex, what you saw is something that no human being could see without being affected by it. I think you might also want to go see a therapist. You may be suffering from post traumatic stress disorder. If you’d like, I’d be happy to…”

“No thank you.” Alex replied. “I’ve done fine on my own.”

“As you say… but as for your claims about the cross, I tested that. She reacted fine to being around crosses.”

“That doesn’t mean anything when she’s in control.”

“Yes I know that.” Father Moran admitted. “However, like I said, you’ve given me very little in the way of convincing me that this isn’t the machinations of two very troubled minds.”

Seeing the disappointed look on Alex face, Father Moran adjusted his tone, “Look, if it’ll make you feel better, I’ll keep this matter open. If Tersa starts going to see a psychiatrist on a regular basis and they can’t resolve this, then I will reexamine her. If then I determine this to be a legitimate case, I’ll recommend the exorcism.”

“I just hope she survives that long.”

“The doctors won’t let anything happen to her. Give them a chance.”

Alex had run out of patience. It was obvious that he was not going to help them. He got up to leave as Father Moran looked over the papers one more time, “And Jesus said to him, ‘You believe because you have seen, but blessed are those who have not seen me and yet still believe’.”

The preist looked up and smiled, “John 20:29… But as for you, blessed are your eyes, for they see; and your ears, for they hear.”

Alex turned away, “Matthew 13:16… Good day, Father.”

“Good day.”

Alex left Father Moran’s office and joined the family waiting for him outside. Tersa looked up at him, “He’s not going to help us, is he?”

“No.”

“He thinks I’m crazy, right?”

Alex didn’t answer her, “Come on, let’s get out of here.”

---

---

Readers,

Do you have a question about writing, publishing, my stories, etc? Please feel free to post a comment or email me.

jimthewritingwizard@gmail.com

I’ll use those comments to select my next blog post.

I have been writing for several years, have 4 published works, experience with publishing and independent work, so I can hopefully be of assistance.

Please note, I only do one of these a day and will do my best to respond to everyone, but it may take some time.

Also, feel free to check out my works of Fantasy and Historical Fiction, Available on Amazon and where ever books are sold. See the link below:

http://www.amazon.com/James-Harrington/e/B00P7FBXTU

Thanks friends!

Catch you on the flip side!

-Jim

VI

“Alex…”

“What, who is that? What’s going on?”

Alex found himself in a dark room, all alone. He had no idea how he had gotten there or why. A dark voice beckoned him forward.

As Alex slowly walked, the floor became less and less stable. It was extremely muddy and what looked like vines were coming out of the wall. Ahead, Alex could hear whimpering, like someone was in pain. He didn’t know what to expect, so he pressed himself against the wall of the muddy cave as he moved.

Slowly and cautiously, he moved into the next chamber, not knowing what to expect. He had no weapons and feared that an attack was coming. It was an eerie feeling as he moved.

His feet treaded as lightly as possible to prevent making noise, until he kicked something metallic on the ground. He looked down to see a flashlight on the tip of his right foot. Convenient…

Alex picked it up and continued moving into the next chamber. He didn’t turn the flashlight on, not at first. Letting whoever or whatever was waiting for him know exactly where he was, was ill-advised when he was heading into a potentially hostile area.

As he entered the room, the voice called out to him again, “Alex…”

Alex recognized the voice and immediately flicked on the flashlight, “Tersa?”

The light illuminated a pale body in front of him. She was clad in torn clothes and it looked as though she had been stabbed all over her body by what looked like vines hanging from the ceiling. It was a grotesque image that he could barely stand.

The flashlight moved up to her face. Her eyes were soaked with tears and completely bloodshot. He didn’t know what to do or how to save her. He had nothing to cut the vines with. In a panic, he looked around for something, anything, sharp enough to cut through the vines, “I’ll get you out… hang on…”

“You’re too late.”

Alex’s eyes turned back to Tersa as the sound of giggling came from her direction. Her eyes began glowing orange and her teeth had been replaced with sharp fangs. She was hideous.

Alex stepped back, “You… I know you… you’re not Tersa…”

The creature cackled as it flicked its wrists, causing the vines with withdraw from its skin. At that moment, Alex realized that they weren’t vines at all, they were roots! Where was he?

Before Alex had a chance to comtemplate the horror unfolding in front of him, the creature broke loose of its bonds and jump at him, screaming in an almost reptilian voice, “Surprise!”

Startled, Alex opened his eyes and found himself in his childhood bedroom, once again in a puddle of his own sweat. His hands were shaking and his eyes were filled with tears. My God… my God… what have you done to me?

Was it a dream, a premonition, or some sort of twisted imagery that was being inflicted upon him? This was not the first time that he’d experienced dreams like this before, but why were they now all revolving around Tersa? What was he missing?

Alex got out of bed and looked at the clock.

 

9:00 am.

 

He’d successfully slept through the night for the first time in a while. Unlike most mornings, he felt energized. He hoped the feeling would last.

Looking at himself in the mirror, it was clear that he needed a shower. His skin was a slimy mess and his hair was greesy. He quickly stripped off his boxers and headed to the bathroom.

The steam soothed his tainted lungs as the water cleansed his skin. When he was finished, he grabbed a towel and turned off the water. As he slid back the shower curtain, his eyes widened. His mirror had completely fogged up. The words ‘leave now or die’ were written into it.

An annoyed look appeared on Alex’s face as he wiped the mirror clear, “What more do you think you can do to me?”

No response. Alex had nothing left to lose, so he certainly wasn’t about to be intimidated by hallucinations, if that’s what they were. He still had too much to do.

Alex got dressed and headed out the door. He really didn’t want to go to the McConnel home. He was afraid of whatever was going on with Tersa. He was convinced that something evil was at work there and he didn’t want to be party to another tragedy. Still, like a moth to the flame, he went outside and got in his car.

Within minutes, he pulled into the McConnel’s driveway. He got out of his car and looked up at the house. It was a raised ranch, not all that disimilar from his mother’s, except that this one was painted a mustard color with black shudders.

Alex made his way up to the door. How was he going to do this? Armed with neither a piece of scripture or a crucifix, or even the faith needed to combat evil, he believed that he was walking into a spiritual trap.

Alex stood on the front stoop and rang the doorbell. The door immediately opened and Alex found himself looking atTersa. Her face showed a blank stare until she realized who it was.

At seeing Alex, her eyes lit up. Immediately she put her arms around him, placed one hand on his back and the other on the back of his neck, and kissed him on the cheek.

“Thank you.” She whispered.

“I just did what I had to.”

“You saved my life.”

She closed her eyes and squeezed Alex tightly as though she were too scared to let go. Alex wasn’t used to this type of affection. At first, he refused to touch her. Getting too close could open him up to more pain, which he didn’t need. However, Tersa was persistent and the beating of her heart against his chest slowly wore down his resistence.

Alex ran his hands over her back and gave her a slight squeeze in return, “I would do it again in a heartbeat.”

At that moment, her father’s voice could be heard behind them, “Ah Alex come…”

When he saw that Alex was unable to move, he quickly turned away and sighed, “Take your time.”

After one more surprisingly strong squeeze, Tersa let go and beckoned him inside. Alex was led up the stairs, into the kitchen, and offered a seat. The room was all dark wood paneling, with a sort of galley style stove and sink off to one side. It really showed the age of their home.

Tersa sat next to him on his left while Sgt. McConnel sat on the opposite side of the wooden table. “Can I get you anything?”

“No thank you, I’m fine.”

Sgt. McConnel nodded and turned to his daughter, “You want to tell him what’s been going on?”

Tersa lowered her eyes, “I’m hearing voices at night when I try to sleep. I have a hard time eating, it’s like my stomach just tightens up so I can’t keep much down. I black out for hours at a time, only to come out of it and realize that I’ve somehow still been active.”

“Have you heard anything back from the doctors about possible mental problems?”

“No… we’re still waiting. They did several tests, but the results haven’t come back yet.”

Tersa’s mother, who had been in the next room over, came in and joined them at the table. She remained silent as they spoke. He faced had a very detectable amount of worry and her eyes looked bloodshot as though she had been crying.

Alex shook his head, “Look, all of those are symptoms of potential psychological problems. I think maybe we should wait until…”

At that moment, Tersa’s mother placed a small, golden crucifix on the table in front of her daughter. Tersa immediately smacked it off the table and glared at her mother, “Accipe a me!” (Get that away from me!)

Alex stopped in his tracks and sat backin shock. Tersa’s eyes were black and she was breathing heavily. Alex repeated a question he’d asked before, “Qui estis?”

She looked up at him, this time, electing to speak English, “You’re too late.”

The voice wasn’t hers. Alex’s blood ran cold as he looked at her. The malicious grin was so wide that it must have been straining Tersa’s face. He partially expected to see fangs in her mouth. The tears in her eyes were the only way he could tell that she was still in there at all.

Alex couldn’t stand it, “I asked you a question, who are you?”

“Someone.”

“Who?”

“Someone from below, looking for someone from above.”

“Give me a name.”

“You know…”

Tersa’s body fell limp. Alex shook his head as he quickly stood up, “I’m sorry… I don’t think I can help you.”

Mrs. McConnel immediately got to her feet, “You’re giving up?”

“No, but she needs a priest, not a reject like me.”

Alex knelt down next to her and tried to wake her, “Tersa, Tersa, can you hear me?”

Tersa’s body immediately came to life. She jumped at Alex with a growl. Alex jumped backwards, out of the way, narrowly avoiding her teeth hitting his left eye. She fell to the ground on top of him. He could hear her crying as he moved to grab her, “Alex, please help me.”

Alex shook her head, “This is… way beyond me… We need to get her to Father Moran. He’s a good man, he’ll know what to do.”

Sgt. McConnel stood up, “All right. We’ll all go. My SUV is in the garage. Let’s get her downstairs.”

Alex picked her up and allowed her father to lead him down the stairs and into the garage. A large black Chevy Suburban was waiting for them. Alex quickly pushed Tersa on to the seat behind her father before going around to the other side. Her mother was about to climb in to sit with her daughter, but Alex spoke up, “Perhaps I should sit with her… if she has another episode…”

Her mother paused a moment and nodded, “All right.”

As soon as everyone was in, Sgt. McConnel started the car and backed out of the garage, heading for the church. Both Alex and her mother kept an eye on Tersa. She remained motionless with her eyes closed the entire ride.

They arrived at the church a few moments later. Alex dashed out and ran around to the other side before anyone else got out. He quickly opened the door and picked up Tersa.

The front doors of the church were shut, but never locked. Alex, followed by Tersa’s parents, pushed the doors opened with his side and ran in. He proceeded quickly down the isle and placed Tersa on the front pugh. An uncomfortable look came over her face. Alex had a feeling that this was the demon that they were dealing with and not Tersa herself, though he also did not feel comfortable there.

Father Moran appeared from the back of the church to see who was there. His eyes focused on Alex as he was the first one the old man recognized, “Alex what can…”

His eyes focused on Tersa, “What’s going on?”

Sgt. McConnel stepped forward, “Father, we need your help. Tersa isn’t well we think… well…”

“We think she’s possessed.” Alex said, finishing his sentence.

Father Moran’s brow furrowed as his eyes examined the sickly looking girl resting on the chair. He scratched his white beard gently as he spoke, “It looks like she needs a doctor.”

“She’s been to the hospital.” Mrs. McConnel replied. “They can’t find anything wrong with her.”

Father Moran knelt down next to her and put his thumb against her eyelids to see her pupils. He shook his head, stood up and turned to Alex, “My friend, I recommended you to the seminary. I know that you were fascinated by cases like this, but I hope you’re not…”

“Father, that was two years ago. I’ve seen too much in that time. Believe me, I don’t even want to be here right now.”

Father Moran sighed, “Very well, bring her back to the rectory. She can rest on one of the couches.”

He then beckoned to Sgt. McConnel, “I assume that you’re her parents?”

Sgt. McConnel nodded, “Yes sir.”

“Has she been seen by a psychiatrist?”

“Yes.”

“Do you have his name and number?”

“Yes.”

Father Moran nodded, “All right. Let’s go into my office.”

The old priest led them back behind the altar to the residence. It was an old apartment with an odor of must and cigarette smoke. The walls were dark wood paneled and looked like they were in serious need of updating.

Father Moran beckoned Alex to rest Tersa on the couch. He then turned to her parents, “Come back with me. Let’s give this doctor a call. Alex, you stay with her. I’ll speak to you seperately.”

Alex nodded as they disappeared, “Yes Father.”

Christ, Alex, what the hell are you doing? He thought to himself. He meant it when he said that he didn’t want to be there. Every saintly effigy, every crucifix, and every single concecrated item made him feel uncomfortable.

His thoughts were interrupted when Tersa began to stir and slowly. A wave of relief overtook Alex when she opened her eyes and they were brown. “Hi there.”

“Hi…”

“How are you feeling?”

“Weak… I feel like I haven’t slept in day.”

She quickly looked around the room with a confused expression on her face, “Where am I?”

“St. John’s. Your parents are talking with Father Moran.”

A look of fear came over her face, “I can’t be here. It won’t like this…”

“What are you talking about?”

“Alex, I need to get out of here. Being here is making it angry. Please get me out of here before it punishes me.”

“What, what is it?”

“I…I…”

Before she could answer, the door to Father Moran’s office door opened. Her parents came out, followed by the priest himself. Their faces brightened up when they saw that she was awake.

Father Moran smiled, “Tersa, good, you’re up. Mind if we talk for a little while?”

Tersa shivered as she looked at her parents and then Alex, “Can we talk outside, please?”

Father Moran looked at her oddly for a moment before nodding, “Of course, follow me. The back porch will suit our needs.”

Tersa stood up and followed Father Moran to the back door. Alex sat quietly as he waited to hear what was about to come of these interviews. Tersa needed help and if there was a priest that could, it was Father Moran. Would he believe her though? The looks on her parent’s faces made him uneasy. It looked as though they had just been through an intense dressing down and weren’t sure that he would help.

 

 

 

---

---

Readers,

Do you have a question about writing, publishing, my stories, etc? Please feel free to post a comment or email me.

jimthewritingwizard@gmail.com

I’ll use those comments to select my next blog post.

I have been writing for several years, have 4 published works, experience with publishing and independent work, so I can hopefully be of assistance.

Please note, I only do one of these a day and will do my best to respond to everyone, but it may take some time.

Also, feel free to check out my works of Fantasy and Historical Fiction, Available on Amazon and where ever books are sold. See the link below:

http://www.amazon.com/James-Harrington/e/B00P7FBXTU

Thanks friends!

Catch you on the flip side!

-Jim

V

 

Alex didn’t see Tersa again during the next few days. He took it as a good sign that most likely she was getting the care that she needed. Besides, he had his own family’s issues to deal with.

His mother’s wake had all been paid for and arranged. It was a true testament to her character to see how many people showed up for it that Saturday. Alex stood away from his mother’s casket to avoid as much of the heartfelt commiseration as possible. Sympathy wasn’t his thing; he really didn’t need to hear anyone else tell him how sorry they were. He appreciated the semtiment, but it did not make him feel any better.

The next day was his mother’s funeral. Saint John’s in Windsted was a small wooden church. Like everything else in the town, it was very old. There was no air conditioning during the summer hours and only minimal heat in the winters due to the building being poorly insulated. Alex remembered the pastor, Father Moran, saying that it was a good test of the steadfastness of the parishioners.

Alex didn’t appreciate the joke, both because he was one of those poor people stuck either sweating or shivering, and because he was not so steadfast. To him, being there was a reminder of his failure. There was no getting away from it.

As he entered the church, he looked at the Holy Water. Instinctively, he moved his right hand to dip his finger in, but then stopped. As his fingers hovered over the water, it began to feel like it was burning. It was an odd sensation that gave him pause for a few moments. As it subsided, he shook his head and pulled away from the fountain. He didn’t view himself as worthy enough to be blessed anyway.

The funeral lasted about an hour as the normal rituals and annointments were performed. Alex stood with Stephen near by, though neither one spoke to the other. Stephen was barely holding himself together and Alex, try as he might, was barely there at all. He felt bad, but his mind was distracted with a million questions.

The funeral ended and everyone made their way to cemetery in town. Alex was the last in line. He stayed near the head of her casket. His eyes stared at the black marble gravestone throughout the final farewell.

Once it was over, the guests slowly left the gravesite while the undertaker worked to get the casket lowered into the ground. Many of them proceeded to Jake’s, a small restaurant in town that Alex’s mother used to frequent. Little by little, the crowd thinned until Alex stood alone, or so he thought.

Alex’s solemn vigil over his mother was interrupted by the sound of footsteps behind him. Someone was approaching. He could see the shadow of a tall man standing behind him.

“Am I disturbing you?”

Alex turned to face the man, “Not at all, Sgt. McConnel, thank you for coming. My mother would have appreciated it.”

“Your mother and my wife were good friends, she wanted to be here, but she couldn’t take herself away from Tersa.”

Alex nodded, never taking his eyes off of the grave, “I can understand that. How is she?”

“Better than she was but…”

“But what?”

Sgt. McConnel frowned, “Listen, I want to apologize for my behavior at the hospital. I was out of line. Tersa is actually very upset with me now because of it. She told me everything. You were very kind to take her in.”

Alex smiled faintly, “No apology necessary, I would have reacted the same way. So did the doctors give you any answers?”

“Not really… they conducted all sorts of tests and even had a psychiatrist talk to her. As far as they can tell, she’s perfectly healthy. None of them can explain what happened then or now…”

“Now?” Alex asked concerned.

A look appeared on Sgt. McConnel’s face that made it look like he’d seen the devil himself, “I… things have been happening that I can’t explain. My daughter’s eyes go dark, she speaks in languages she that couldn’t possibly know, and it’s like one minute we’re talking to the girl we raised, the next minute… it’s something else.”

Sgt. McConnel’s words sent a chill down Alex’s spine, “Something else?”

Sgt. McConnel shook his head, “I’m not a man of faith, Alex. My wife is about as superstitious as they come and my daughter frequents church, but I’ve always been sort of agnostic.”

“I don’t blame you for that.”

“Look… I need your help.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah… your mother told us how you were in the seminary. She told us what you were doing there. Could you maybe…”

Alex backed away and shook his head, “No, absolutely not! Go ask Father Moran, he’s actually ordained.”

Sgt. McConnel lowered his eyes and spoke in a defeated tone, “Fine…”

As he turned to walk away, he stopped and stood for a few moments behind Alex, “You know, my daughter was the one who convinced me to let you off on the underage drinking charge.”

“Yeah I know.”

“She really liked you. Whenever your mother would visit, she’d always want to hear about you and even bought and read your books.”

Alex sighed. Sgt. McConnel was apparently very good at laying a guilt trip on good and thick. Every fiber of his being told Alex to remain silent, but he ignored it, “If I have time tomorrow, I’ll come by and talk to her… but I make no promises and I doubt I’ll be able to help.”

“Thank you all the same.” A relieved Sgt. McConnel replied.

“Yeah…”

A moment later, Alex was alone next to his mother’s grave. Looking at the coffin, he’s head began to shake ever so slightly and the voices from behind entered his mind. He quickly reached for a cigarette, only to discover that he hadn’t brought any.

The voices got louder as the moments passed, “I see you… I’m here… you’re too late…”

The words echoed through his mind. He pressed on his temples with his hands and attempted to force the voice from his mind, “Go away… you’re not real… Get out!”

“Hey buddy, you okay?”

Alex immediately looked up to see the undertaker eyeing him suspiciously. He was an older man in a rather worn out leather jacket. Alex nodded, “I don’t suppose you smoke?”

The undertaker laughed, “Are you kidding? It’s like a job requirement… all though the wife has been trying to get me to quit.”

He reached into his pocket and pulled out a pack, “Here, looks like you need this more than I do.”

Alex nodded, “Thanks!”

He immediately lit one up and took a puff. The voices in his head went silent, at least for a little while. The undertaker watched him as he worked the cigarette, “You look terrible.”

“Thanks.”

“No I mean you look like you haven’t slept in days.”

“So people keep telling me.”

The undertaker scratched the back of his neck, “Look, kid, I get that she was your mother, but you need to take better care of yourself.”

Alex was in no mood for a lecture from this guy, so he politely nodded and began to walk away, “I’ll take it under advisement, thanks.”

He didn’t wait for a response and instead headed down to his car. The old Cadillac was the last car in what was a big line going down the winding road of the graveyard. It stood silently, alone and waiting for him.

Alex opened the door and sat in the driver’s seat, taking a drag every few minutes before tossing the remains out the window and the pack on the passenger’s seat. As he started the car, he began to reflect on his situation. He didn’t like being alone, in fact he hated it. What he feared above all else was being in his late 60s or 70s, sitting alone at a bar, drinking himself stupid. A man, who wouldn’t be taken seriously by anyone, ever and was little more than a pathetic has-been with no family to comfort him at night and no friends to confide in.

Alex sat back and embraced the grim reality. That’s exactly what he was. His books had earned him a comfortable life, but how long would that last? He was once someone who was surrounded by friends and never truly knew the meaning of the word ‘alone.’ How did that change?

That’s when it came to him; he should never have joined the seminary. He was a man who deep down wanted a family and wanted people around all the time. The vows that were about to be asked of him, he would never have been able to accept. He was kidding himself.

That realization hit him in the face as hard as any brick could have.He buried his face in his hands so that he wouldn’t see his face in the rear-view mirror. Dear God…

 

 

---

---

Readers,

Do you have a question about writing, publishing, my stories, etc? Please feel free to post a comment or email me.

jimthewritingwizard@gmail.com

I’ll use those comments to select my next blog post.

I have been writing for several years, have 4 published works, experience with publishing and independent work, so I can hopefully be of assistance.

Please note, I only do one of these a day and will do my best to respond to everyone, but it may take some time.

Also, feel free to check out my works of Fantasy and Historical Fiction, Available on Amazon and where ever books are sold. See the link below:

http://www.amazon.com/James-Harrington/e/B00P7FBXTU

Thanks friends!

Catch you on the flip side!

-Jim

IV 

Alex got into his car and headed down the road in the opposite direction from the one he came. He turned on to Smithfield Road and a moment later, turned on to Pleasant Hill Road. He kept his eyes open for any sign of Tersa. Chills ran down his spine as the feeling that her time was running out continued to linger in his mind.

Cleaning crews were already working to get the large tree off of the road as Alex approached. They had managed to clear half of the tree so that cars could get by on one side, but they were still working to remove the heavier piece.

Alex slowly drove by and looked at the workers. At that moment, he saw another black figure standing off to the side where the tree stump was. It quickly vanished the moment he looked away to make sure that he was still going straight. He tried to ignore the figure as he wasn’t sure whether or not his mind was messing with him again.

Much to his disappointment, he arrived home with no sign of Tersa anywhere. Alex became frustrated and slammed his hand on the wheel. Where could she be? Could he really have imagined everything that happened the previous night? Was it even possible? Many of his previous halucinations had been very convincing, meaning that he could not rule the possibility out.

He pulled into his driveway and went inside. He needed to figure out what his next move was and grabbed his cellphone, off of the entry way table. The house was as he left it without a single thing had been moved.

At that moment, he noticed something out of place. Tersa’s black raincoat was still hanging in the foyer. She had been there, all doubt had been erased, but why had she not taken it? Could she have forgotten it as she hurried out the door? Alex sincerely doubted it. He ran upstairs and into the bathroom to confirm his suspicions.

To his horror, Tersa’s clothes were still in the tub. While one worried had been put to rest, a far greater one had reared its head. Where ever she was, she had no defense, not even against the elements. He didn’t know why, but he knew that he had to find her, and quickly.

Where could he go and look now? He already checked around the house, the center of town, and all parts in between. What was left? It was a small town with very few places to hide.

Alex decided to head out to the older side of town where Tersa lived. It was the only place that he hadn’t checked. It was also where the remains of that old cemetery were.

He grabbed his phone, dashed outside, and slid back into his car. Moments later, the car was speeding down Pleasant Hill Road. His mind wandered back to Rome as the car picked up speed. What demons was he welcoming into his own life by getting involved with this girl? Could he truly handle more when his own demons haunted him so?

A honking horn brought him back to reality and he quickly swirved to miss an oncoming car. He breathed heavily and wiped the sweat from his brow as he regained control of his car. It turned on to Main Street and followed it for five miles until he reached Pilgrim Avenue.

On the left side of the road was a line of houses. Every few hundred feet, one popped up out from behind the trees as Alex drove by. On the right side of the road were marsh lands and cranberry bogs for as far as he could see.

As he continued driving, the remains of a large, burnt out oak tree came into view. It was the one tree that stood in the middle of the field, at least what was left of it. The tree had been sliced in half by the lightning strike and the other piece had long since been removed by the town. Around the tree were small, worn down, stones that had once been gravestones. There had presumably been a fence there at one point, but it had long since been overtaken by nature.

It was an eerie sight and something about the tree began to call to Alex. His eyes fluttered and he heard the voices that he’d heard the night before with Tersa. His head felt heavy as the whispers passed through his head, “We’re here… we’re with you…”

Alex snapped out of it long enough to slam on the breaks, pull over to the side of the road, and put the car in park. He had one cigarette left in his pocket, which he immediately moved to light up, “You’re not sucking me in, not this time!”

Relief finally came when he sucked the smoke into his lungs. He sat back as the voices in his head slowly went quiet. Smoke poured out of his nose as he slowly reopened his eyes. His head rested on the back of his seat as he savored the moment.

As Alex’s eyelids open, a small brown blur near the dead tree appeared. He blinked a few times as he pushed the car door open. His eyes remained transfixed on the brown figure in the distance. He was certain that it was human.

Alex quickly began running towards the tree, hoping that the figure was Tersa. He ran through wet grass to the open field. The closer he got, the more his mind began flutter. The voices slowly began to enter his mind again, despite his trying to block them out.

Out of breath with legs that were soaked to the bone from the wet grass, Alex stopped a few hundred feet away. He struggled to catch his breath and coughed as he looked up at the dead tree. I guess this is what happens when you smoke too much!

Alex looked at the figure. It was definitely Tersa. The robe that she was wearing was wet and her hair was matted to her head, but it was definitely her. She was completely motionless. Had Alex not known better, Tersa could have passed as a statue.

He couldn’t see her face as he cautiously stepped closer. When he got to within twenty feet of her, he saw that she was holding a sharpened stone and had been carving an image of what looked like the Sun, into the trunk of the tree. He still couldn’t make out her face, but she seemed entranced.

Alex took a few more cautious steps towards her, “Tersa…?”

At first, she didn’t move, but as he took another step closer she instantly came to life. Her head turned at incredible speeds and looked up at him. Her eyes were as black as coal and her face was twisted into a dark expression that almost looked demonic. She pointed an accusing finger at him and began screaming at a pitch that her voice should not have been capable of, “Quam audeo vestri! Defensor fidem haberet. Defensor videre potest bonum. Vides tantum malum!”

Completely startled by her outburt, Alex staggered backwards. He had learned Latin in both College and the seminary, but her screaming made it hard for him to understand what she had said. Clearly she had accused him of something and then mentioned a defender having faith, but that was all he got.

Tersa, or whatever was controlling her stared at Alex, waiting for a response. He had a bad feeling that if he didn’t say something soon, he would be under attack, “Qui estis?” (Who are you?)

“Sum solus in coelum. Revertar.”

(I was alone in the sky. I will return.)

Alex’s eyes narrowed as he looked at her. He was almost completely paralyzed by fear. He wanted to reach out to her, but something held him back. He was completely powerless.

Tersa’s eyes rolled over white and closed. She collapsed on the wet ground. She began to shake as she looked up at Alex with her normal brown eyes. Her pleading look shot Alex straight through the heart, “Alex…? Please…  help me!”

Alex couldn’t stand it any longer and forced himself forward. He quickly knelt down and ripped off his shirt. Looking away as he worked, he quickly pulled the soaked robe off and ran the shirt over her head. It wasn’t much, but a dry shirt would protect her better than a wet robe.

The moment she had the shirt on, he ran his hands under her back and legs. Her body was as cold as ice and the shaking had not stopped. He picked her up and began running as quickly as he could back to his car.

Alex had left the door open when he ran to Tersa’s aid. He slid inside and rested her on the passenger’s seat. She was still shaking as he started up the car. Alex turned on the heat, but wasn’t sure if it would help. She was as white as a ghost. Her skin was normally pale, but this was white even for her.

Tersa’s breathing slowed as her eyes glossed over. She looked exhausted as she curled up on the seat. It was clear that she was getting sick.

The relief of finding her had to take a back seat to him getting her the medical help she clearly needed. The closest hospital, Cooley Dickinson, was about twenty minutes up the road. He hit the gas in an effort to cut down on the time, “Hold on Tersa, we’re going to get you some help. It’ll be okay, I promise.”

Tersa looked at him weekly, “She was pulling at my mind… I couldn’t stop her.”

“Who?”

“I… I…”

Tersa lost consciousness before he could finish. Alex pulled the phone out of his pocket and activated the voice recognition software. The phone came to life and beeped, indicating that it was ready for a command.

Alex put the phone up to his lips, “Look up the phone number for the Windsted Police department.”

The phone beeped, did a quick search of the web, and brought up the phone number. Alex tapped on the screen, allowing the phone to dial and connect. The phone rang for a few moments before an unenthusiastic voice picked up, “Windsted Police Department.”

Alex spoke quickly, “Yes hi, I’m looking for Sgt. McConnel if he’s available. It’s an emergency.”

“Who’s calling?”

“Alex Hendrickson, I spoke to him earlier today, and it’s about his daughter.”

There was a pause on the other end. Alex could hear the rusteling of a few pieces of paper as he waited. Finally the voice came back, “All right, he’s not at the station, so I’m going to see if I can get him on the line and transfer you in, hold on.”

There was a beep and then silence. Alex watched as the trees blew by on either side of the road. He had no idea how he was going to explain this to Tersa’s father, but he knew that he had to.

Beep…

He waited as a small group of buildings blew by when he turned on to Route 9, heading East. He hadn’t been down Berkshire Trail in a while and was feeling slightly nostalgic. This was in many ways his exit from the small town.

Beep…

Okay, what is taking so damn long? Alex thought to himself, dying to get this over with.

Beep…

Seriously, did they not hear me say it’s about his daughter?

Beep, beep…

“Hello, this is Sgt. McConnel.”

“Sir, this is Alex Hendrickson, I ran into you earlier today. I found your daughter sir!”

There was a detectable level of concern in his voice as he responded, “Is she okay? Let me talk to her.”

“I can’t sir, she’s unconscious.”

“Unconscious? What in God’s name happened to her?”

“I… I can’t say.”

“You better start talking son, right now.”

Alex let out a deep sigh. He understood her father’s tone, but he was trying too hard to concentrate on driving, “Sir, I can’t really do that at the moment. What I can say is that your daughter is alive, she’s… not hurt that I can see, but I’m taking her to Cooley Dickinson Hospital right now. She’s pale and was soaked to the bone when I found her. Meet me there and I’ll be happy to explain everything, but right now I have to focus on driving.”

The tension in Sgt. McConnel’s voice was so potent that Alex could almost feel it through his phone, “I’ll be there, and God help you if I find out that you are in any way responsible for this.”

Alex nodded, “Fine, see you then.”

Alex turned off the phone as he turned onto Old North Road and then quickly turned into the ER parking. Once his car was off, he quickly grabbed Tersa and ran through the main entrance and up to the service desk.

Thankfully, the emergency room wasn’t crowded and no one was in his way as he headed towards the startled receptionist. He caught his breath before she could say anything and quickly moved Tersa forward in his arms, “I found her outside like this, she’s cold and passed out in my car.”

The receptionist immediately pushed a panic button under the counter, “Hang on sir, we’ll have a stretcher for her.”

A moment later, a group of nurses burst through the door to the ER floor with a stretcher. Alex laid her down on the blue vinyl cushion. The nurses quickly wrapped her in a blanket and proceeded to bring her inside.

One stayed behind to speak to Alex. She was an older woman with graying blond hair. Clearly she had been there a while as she didn’t seem phased by what had just happened, “Sir, how do you know this girl?”

“She’s a friend. I found her out the field in my town. She was just standing there, completely soaked.”

“Did she say anything?”

Alex shook his head, “Just that someone, a she, was trying to pull at her mind. It was really weird.”

“Where’s her clothing?”

“She was in a bathrobe when I found her. I left it there when I gave her my shirt.”

“What’s her name?”

“Tersa McConnel. I’ve also called her parents. They’re on the way.”

The nurse nodded in approval as she straightened her glasses, “Okay good. Is there anything else you can tell us?”

“Well… she’s 24. Her date of birth is October 13^th 1990… I don’t really know anything else.”

The nurse nodded, “That’s good enough. All right, we’ll take care of her. Have her parents let the receptionist know when they get here.”

“Will do.”

The nurse turned and disappeared back through the doors. Alex sat down in one of the padded chairs against the wall. He still had no clue what was going on, but he was quickly getting the feeling that a hospital wasn’t what she needed. Too little, too late.

Alex’s thoughts were disturbed as a large man in unform and an older woman with a worried look on her face ran through the sliding doors into the ER. He watched as they approached the secretary and gave their names. He couldn’t hear what they were saying, but he saw her point them in his direction.

He recognized them as Sgt. McConnel and his wife. The old officer had a look on his face that made Alex’s blood run cold. He half expected that he was about to take a hook to the jaw.

Alex stood up and braced himself for what was to come as the officer marched up and confronted him, “Alex?”

Alex nodded, “Yes, sir.”

“You’d better start talking, boy. What happened?”

Alex lowered his eyes, “I met your daughter last night, her car broke down and she was walking in the massive storm. Her cell phone wasn’t working and I just happened to be outside at the right time, grabbing some supplies when she walked by. The power had gone out on my block. It was sheer luck that I saw her. I took her back to see if we could get her car started, but there was nothing I could do. She looked like she was ready to panic so I brought her back to my place to dry off. I couldn’t get her home because of the tree that came down, so I let her stay in my guest bedroom. By the next morning, she was gone…”

“Why didn’t you call me?”

“My phone wasn’t working either and with the power out, the house phone wasn’t an option.”

Tersa’s father glared at Alex, “Why didn’t you tell me any of this when you were in town?”

“Maybe I should have.” Alex admitted. “I thought you’d bring me in for questioning or something like that. I wanted to help search… I felt responsible. Look, I’m sorry for that, but I did find her and I called you as soon as I could.”

At that point, her mother stepped forward, “Thank you Alex. Where did you find her?”

“Out in the field by the old burnt down tree, not too far from where you guys live.”

Tersa’s mother shook her head, “I’ve told her so many times to stay away from there. I told her it was dangerous.”

Alex nodded, “Because of the witch?”

Before her mother could respond, Sgt. McConnel spoke up, “All right, that’s enough of this nonsense. What happened when you found her?”

“She was wet, cold, and very pale. She said that someone was trying to get into her mind and then passed out.”

Tersa’s mother glared at her husband, “I told you how many times to get rid of that lousy car! The thing is a piece of s…”

“Later!”

Sgt. McConnel looked back at Alex, “I am not happy that you didn’t come clean with this sooner. Hopefully my daughter will wake up soon, and you better hope she corroborates your story.”

Alex nodded, “I’m sure she will.”

“Very well, we’ll see.”

Alex was tired. Tersa’s parents were there and it didn’t look like they were up for having company, especially not someone with a previous history. Satisfied that he could do all he good, he decided it was time to go, “Well now that you’re here, I should probably let you be. I have some family issues of my own to attend to.”

Mrs. McConnel’s eyes lit up in shock as she remembered, “Oh my goodness, yes. Alex, I’m so sorry. We’ve just been stressed out. I was very sorry to hear about your mother. She was a wonderful woman. I spent many an afternoon with her.”

“Thanks, I appreciate it.”

Alex didn’t say another word and turned to leave, no longer caring for being under the accusing eye of Tersa’s father. He’d done his job, now it was up to her parents and the doctors. He headed back out to his car and pulled out of the parking lot, stopping only for a moment at the hospital exit. I sincerely hope I’m wrong about all of this…

 

 

 

---

---

Readers,

Do you have a question about writing, publishing, my stories, etc? Please feel free to post a comment or email me.

jimthewritingwizard@gmail.com

I’ll use those comments to select my next blog post.

I have been writing for several years, have 4 published works, experience with publishing and independent work, so I can hopefully be of assistance.

Please note, I only do one of these a day and will do my best to respond to everyone, but it may take some time.

Also, feel free to check out my works of Fantasy and Historical Fiction, Available on Amazon and where ever books are sold. See the link below:

http://www.amazon.com/James-Harrington/e/B00P7FBXTU

Thanks friends!

Catch you on the flip side!

-Jim

 

III

 

Alex retreated to bed in his old room. It was clean, but the old posters on the wall had faded and began to fall off. His mother hadn’t changed anything or made any effort to turn his room into a guest room. Clearly she’d expected him to come home at some point, though he had other plans, she never gave up hope.

It was yet one more sin on Alex’s soul. He had no way of repenting for this one. He had missed his chance when that drunk slammed into his mother’s old Chevy.

Regret and sorrow only made him even more susceptible to exhaustion. His eyes fluttered and he finally went to sleep. As his eyes closed, his field of vision became painted red. He fought to reopen them again, but the red hue persisted all around him, “What… what is this?”

At that moment, a cross appeared in his field of vision. The moment that it fully materialized, a woman slowly began to appear. She was naked except for a few strategically placed rags and her hands and feet were nailed to each end of the cross. A crown of thorns adorned her head, causing blood to drip out from undernieth it.

At first, the woman looked dead. There was no way that anyone could survive that level of brutality for long. However as her features became more clear to his eyes, she began to move.

Alex’s eyes widened as the woman looked at him. He knew who it was, “Liliana…”

Her head moved slowly so that her eyes met Alex’s, “Why didn’t you save me? Why did I deserve to die?”

“I tried!” Alex insisted. “Really, I did everything that I knew how to do.”

“You couldn’t protect me… how do you intend to protect her…”

Alex’s eyes narrowed, “Who?”

The image suddenly faded and reappeared in front of his eyes. To his horror, Tersa now appeared in front of him. Alex was confused, “Why her? Nothing I did had any affect on her life. I don’t understand.”

The bloodied effigy smiled at him, “You will, very soon.”

More blood began to pour from her hands and feet as her body fell limp. The world suddenly faded to black, forcing him back into consciousness. He woke up in a puddle of his own sweat, breathing heavily.

Much to his surprise, it was already morning. The storm was over, but the clouds had not yet passed the town over. Alex got up and went to the door to check on Tersa. He quietly exited his room and went to the guest room door. He slowly opened the door to take a quick peak and to make sure that she was okay.

At first, he didn’t see anything, just a mess of tangled sheets. Afraid of what he might find, he pushed the door open hard. Tersa was gone.

In a panic, Alex quickly turned to the bathroom to see if she’d gotten up. The bathroom was empty. Maybe she went to the kitchen for something to eat? That was empty too. Oh God, what happened?

Alex began to feel the same sense of dread that he’d felt that day at the Vatican. He needed to get out and find her. Maybe she woke up early and wanted to get home?

He threw on a new set of clothes and ran out the door. Without a second’s hesitation, he jumped into the family car, turned it over, and shot out of the garage as fast as he could. He was determined to find her.

The Cadillac barreled down the road at almost twice the speed limit. Within minutes, he found the Oldsmobile right where they had left it, but where was she? Had he hallucinated being there her somehow?

Alex shook his head. That wasn’t possible. Where the hallucinations had become fuzzy afterwards, he remembered her being there clearly, and how else would he have known about the car? So where could she be? Another quick search of the house revealed nothing. There was no evidence that she’d been there.

A sense of panic flowed over him. Too much didn’t add up from the night before. The power going out when it did, Tersa getting stuck on the side of the road, him just happening to be outside at the right moment to see her, the tree falling, and the whispers on the wind was all too much. One looking at all this from the outside could have dismissed them all as coincidence, but Alex suspected that there was something darker behind all of this. Did something want them to cross paths?

With the tree still blocking his path, the only way into town was to go through the wooded backroads and that would take an extra twenty minutes. It was a long way around that he would not have been able to undertake the night before, but now that the weather was clear, it would be more manageable.

Alex turned the car around and headed down to the other end of Pleasant Hill Road before turning left onto Silent Hill Lane. He kept his eyes open on either side of the road, looking for Tersa, but could find no sign of her anywhere.

Finally, he turned left at the other side of Pleasant Hill Road and then onto Main Street. He pulled his car right up in front of the police station and paid the meter to park for a few hours.  So where should he start looking? Should he go to the police?

Windsted, Massachusetts was a fairly small town with less than 1500 people living there. Everyone knew everyone from the town, so it would be a good place to start. However, if no one had seen her and he started asking questions, it may seem suspicious and if he had been imagining the whole thing, he would look like a lunatic.

Alex lit up a cigarette and pondered his options for a moment. His thoughts were quickly interrupted by the door to the police station flying open and an older, well-built, man in uniform came down the stone steps. He had a stressed look on his face.

Alex immediately recognized the man, put out his cigarette and intercepted him, “Officer McConnel, remember me?”

The officer stopped for a moment and looked at Alex, “Oh so you’re back in town… I’m sorry, but I don’t have time to chat right now, my daughter didn’t come home last night. She was out celebrating her 24^th birthday party.”

Chills went down Alex’s spine as the hallucination theory had finally been disproven, “Tersa didn’t make it home?”

Officer McConnel shook his head, “Have you seen her? She was driving a silver Oldsmobile Firenza, you’d know it if you saw it.”

What could Alex do? If he told the officer the truth, he’d be a suspect in her disappearance. He’d be hauled in for questioning while whoever had her was able to finish whatever they were doing.

Tersa’s time might be running out. Being hauled in for questioning meant one less set of eyes out looking for her. He didn’t like lying, but felt that it was the lesser of two evils in this case, “Um… theres a car that looks like that on the side of the road Pleasant Hill Road, but I didn’t see her.”

The officer shook his head, “Oh God… I’d better get over there. You’re sure it’s the same car?”

“No, but it says Firenza in white letters on the side.”

“Yeah that’s my car. All right, thanks!”

Alex nodded as the officer hopped in his car and pulled away without another word. Her birthday? She didn’t mention that…

The date was the 13^th of October. Alex shook his head at the odd coincidence. The 13^th… well that’s a bad omen if ever there was one.

Alex paced for a few minutes thinking of where he should look next. At that moment, he saw a dark figure clad in all in black, watching him from a distance. The figure had a menacing aura about it, but made no move to confront him.

Alex was about to cross the street when the blare of a loud horn made him jump back. A large truck entered his line of sight as it drove by. Once it passed, the figure was no longer on the other side of the road. What was going on?

Directly behind where the man had been standing was the town library. It was an impressive stone building for such a small community. Was this a sign that he was supposed to go in there? He had too many unanswered questions. Where was Tersa, why was her date of birth becoming significant? Something didn’t add up.

Then he remembered something his uncle had said to him. There hadn’t been a storm like the one that rocked Windsted in the area for almost 25 years. Tersa was 24.

What was going on? Alex needed answers and standing on the curb wasn’t going to yield any. He abruptly crossed the street and went into the library. From the front door, he was immediately drawn to the microfilm room with all of the old Newspaper articles from the town.

Alex’s hands shook with either fear or anticipation as he brought up the October 13^th, 1990. His eyes scanned over the page. Nothing. There was a mild thunderstorm on the day of her birth, but the date was otherwise insignificant.

What could he be missing? There had to be some sort of connection there. Something was not adding up right. Alex sat back and stared at the image on the Windsted Sun for a few moments. He said 25 years… not 24… and Tersa mentioned when her mother found out that she was pregnant.

Alex’s fingers went flying back about nine months and slowly made his way through the papers. It took him 20 minutes to find what he was looking for.

Finally a paper came up on the screen showing damaged trees and heavy rain. There it was, February 3^rd, 1990. It was a very unusual time of year for such a storm. According to the paper, the meteorolergists were baffled by its sudden appearance.

He continued scrolling until he reached the next day’s paper. It took a few minutes of his eyes scanning the pages before he stumbled on a small article off to the side. The title was in bold black letters.

 

Storm Topples 300 year old tree.

 

At first, this didn’t seem significant, but something in the page caught his eye. The word ‘Quetzalcoatl’ jumped out at him. It was an odd thing to see in a story about a tree, so he turned back and began reading the article.

His eyes flew over the lines as he read.

 

Witnesses claim that a random bolt of lightning struck the tree, causing it to break and burn. The tree is situated in what was once a local grave yard. Where it has stood for 300 years.

Records of Windsted dating back to the 1690s indicate that a young woman by the name of Rachel Proctor had been discovered praying to the Aztec God Quetzalcoatl. She was immediately tried for heresey and witchcraft, and sentenced to hang.

Rachel is believed to be one of the earliest people tried for witchcraft. Her family pleaded with the local clergy to allow her to be burried. The clergy agreed only if a tree were planted over her grave to bind her wicked soul. Until yesterday’s storm, that tree remained as a silent reminder of past crimes.

 

Alex went pale and pushed away from the film projector. He had heard of this practice being done by the Amish, but this was the first historical case of it that he had read about. Ordinarily, he dismissed things like this as ancient superstition, but after what he saw in Rome, he wasn’t so sure any more.

So Tersa was concieved around the same time that the tree was destroyed. There was another, much smaller storm on the day of her birth, and now on her 24^th birthday, a raging storm hits Windsted and she disappears the next morning. Could this all be connected somehow?

Alex put a hand to his head, “Okay, this is nuts. I’m letting my own fears get the better of me and come to life. Most likely she left my house early, walked home, and she got there after her father left.”

He wanted to believe that, but why would she leave without saying goodbye? Why wouldn’t she call her folks? Her phone may have been dead and maybe she didn’t want to wake him up to ask if she could use his. It was plausible, but likely?

Alex’s head was beginning to hurt. He decided that the best thing to do was head back home going the way she would have walked. Maybe he’d see something that would give him a clue.

He turned off the microfilm and turned to leave the library. His father’s Cadillac was where he’d left it, however now there was another black figure standing in front of it. This one looked taller than the first.

Alex froze in place for a moment before stepping forward to confront the dark figure, “Who are you? What do you want?”

The figure didn’t move, but a voice came from under his hood, “Do not interfere.”

“Interfere? What are you talking about?”

Another voice broke the silence, “Hey Alex!”

Someone else came around the corner, making a startled Alex turn to see who it was. His eyes lit up when he saw an old friend, “Henry?”

He quickly looked back at the cloaked figure, only to see that he was gone. Henry came running over, “Hey buddy, long time no see.”

Alex’s eyes darted around, “Where’d he go?”

“Who?”

“The man dressed in a black cloak!”

“Alex, what are you talking about?”

“Come on, you must have seen him!”

Henry shook his head, “Sorry man, you’re the only one here.”

“I swear to God, I’m losing it!”

A sympathetic look appeared on his face, “Who could blame you, with what happened to your mother and all. You look like you haven’t slept in days. I’m really sorry buddy. I know how close you were with your family.”

“Thanks, but I’ve been sleeping just fine…”

“Well then you look like you’ve put yourself through hell.”

“That might be closer to the truth, though I doubt I could change it even if I wanted to.”

Henry nodded as Alex pulled out a cigarette and lit it up, “By the way, Henry, do you know a girl named Tersa? I think she lives not too far from here…”

“The McConnel girl?”

“Yeah.”

Henry nodded, “Yeah I see her around every now and then, usually with a few friends. She apparently hit it pretty big as an artist recently…”

Alex noticed a slight smirk on his face, “What?”

“Nothing, it’s just funny, rumor had it she had a major thing for you in high school. Why are you asking about her anyway?”

“She’s missing.”

“No shit? How do you know?”

Alex thought for a moment, “Can you keep quiet about something?”

“Of course, lord knows you’ve kept quiet many times for me. I just hope it’s not too illegal… What is it?” Henry laughed.

“She was at my house last night, during the storm.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, her car broke down and she couldn’t get home. She spent the night, but when I woke up she was gone. The guest room was empty.”

Henry’s eyes narrowed, “Did you tell her father about this?”

“No.” Alex admitted.

“Why not?”

“I’m going to, but I want to see if I can find her first. I’m worried that there may be… a reason she’s gone.”

“A reason?”

Alex shook his head, “That’s all I can say at the moment, keep it quiet will you?”

“All right man.” Henry replied. “Just promise me one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“Go to the police soon. If you don’t find her, let them take over. That’s their job and you’ve got enough on your plate.”

Alex nodded, “All right, I’ll do that.”

Henry looked back at the convenient store that his father owned, “All right man… well I need to get back and deal with a missing order. I’ll be at your mother’s wake this weekend. When you’ve got everything together, call me. We’ll grab a drink and catch up.”

“I will.”

“See you later, Alex.”

 

 

---

---

Readers,

Do you have a question about writing, publishing, my stories, etc? Please feel free to post a comment or email me.

jimthewritingwizard@gmail.com

I’ll use those comments to select my next blog post.

I have been writing for several years, have 4 published works, experience with publishing and independent work, so I can hopefully be of assistance.

Please note, I only do one of these a day and will do my best to respond to everyone, but it may take some time.

Also, feel free to check out my works of Fantasy and Historical Fiction, Available on Amazon and where ever books are sold. See the link below:

http://www.amazon.com/James-Harrington/e/B00P7FBXTU

Thanks friends!

Catch you on the flip side!

-Jim

Hope you enjoyed Dark Redemption.

This one… well it has nothing to do with any of the other novels I’ve written. This one is a standalone suspense novel I tried to work with. At first it looked like it was really taking off, but then it sort of last traction and I’ve suffered writers block with it to the point of abandonment for more important work.

Hope you enjoy:

I

Today was like any other for Alex Hendrickson as he exited his flight. The chaos of Boston’s Logan airport was an old, but familiar sight. People were running around trying to either get to, or leave their flights, at least ten different languages were being spoken, and heartfelt hellos and farewells were being exchanged. It was the same monotony that Alex had seen at every airport he’d ever been to.

In the past, it was at this point when Alex stepped through the gate that his mother would usually cause as scene. He remembered that she would always come running to him, throw her arms around him and completely embarrass him as mothers typically do. He remembered always tensing up, hoping somehow that his mother wouldn’t be there to pick him up, that she would be at home making a celebratory meal for him or something. He remembered closing his eyes so as not to have to deal with any of the odd looks that would have been directed at him by people passing by.

Alex now regretted feeling that way as he now had his wish. His mother had been in a fatal car accident and did not even make it to the hospital. As he stepped away from the terminal, raggedy suitcase in hand, he was greeted by his uncle Stephen, “How are you boy?”

Alex looked at him with a complete lack of enthusiasm and brushed his brown hair back, “Been better, Uncle Steve.”

Stephen nodded, “I don’t blame you. I know how close you were to your mother.”

“Yeah,” Alex replied, “after Dad died, it was pretty much just me and her… well and also you.”

“Yeah when I was around.”

At that moment, he noticed that Alex’s hands were shaking, “You all right boy?”

Alex nodded, “I just really need smoke. I’ve been stuck on that plane for hours and now I just really need to light up.”

Stephen took Alex’s suitcase and guided him out of Terminal A. As they reached the baggage claim, Stephen pointed to the conveyer belt, “You bring anything else?”

“No.”

“Traveling a little light aren’t we?”

“I’m not staying long…”

“Oh… that’s too bad. I know several people who were looking forward to seeing you.”

“I don’t care. I really don’t feel comfortable being here any longer than I have to.”

“Why?”

Alex paused. Why did going to his hometown bother him? He had nothing but pleasant memories of growing up in Windsted. Why now would he dread going back there? “It just doesn’t feel right anymore.”

Stephen shrugged as they stepped outside. A cool blast of autumn air caressed Alex’s face. Stephen shook his head as Alex reached into his pocket and pulled out a pack of Marlboros. He was about to light up when his eyes caught sight of an elderly nun collecting donations. His eyes drifted from the nun to the crucifix she had on the table.

With the unlit cigarette hanging from his mouth, he walked over and took a closer look. To his horror, it was not an image of the Son of God that was hanging by its hands and feet, but a woman that was about his age. Her face bore a look of absolute terror.

He was about to turn away when the small face began to move. Alex stood petrified as he looked down on the statue with his hands shaking. What was this aborration? The woman’s cheeks were soaked with both tears and blood as she looked pleadingly at him and spoke softly, “Why?”

Alex gasped and stammered backwards. A hand appeared on his shoulder, “Boy, you okay?”

Alex was startled by his uncle’s hand and looked up, “What?”

“Are you okay?” He repeated.

Alex looked at him oddly, “You didn’t… didn’t you see that?”

“See what?” Stephen asked.

Alex looked at the crucifix again. It was just like any other. The woman was gone, replaced by the typical image of the lord and savior. Had it been a hallucination? How could it be? Nicotine withdrawals don’t cause hallucinations. He had also been drinking more since he discovered that his mother had died, but he was not an alcoholic. Still, he had not gotten a full night’s sleep in a while, perhaps that was the answer.

The nun looked at Alex with concern, “Are you all right, child? You look ill.”

Alex straightened up, “Yeah, I just haven’t been sleeping well recently.”

He reached into the pocket of his black leather jacket and fished out a crumpled $20 bill. After straightening it out, he handed the money to the nun, “Here, no doubt you’ll make better use of this than I will.”

The nun smiled and nodded, “Bless you child.”

Alex turned away without another word and lit up the cigarette as Stephen guided him away. Alex closed his eyes and took a long drag into his lungs of the cigarette. Smoke shot out of his nose as his shaking subsided. Sweet relief…

Stephen’s car was an old Lincoln town car. It was one of the few luxuries that he had ever been able to afford and it took him years to build up enough money. The car was almost twelve years old by this point, but it was well maintained and probably ran better than many cars half

its age.

“Is it okay if I smoke in your car? I know how you feel about that thing.”

Stephen sighed as he spoke, “Well normally I’d say no, but you look like you need it. We’ll just open a window.”

“Thanks.”

As Alex savored his first cigarette in hours, Stephen rolled down his window and started the car, “Your mother wouldn’t like that, you know? She thought it was a disgusting habit.”

“There are a lot of things I’ve done that she wouldn’t like.”

“Like leaving the seminary?”

“Among other things.”

Stephen shook his head, “Can I ask you something?”

Alex knew what the question was going to be and dreaded it. “Would it matter if I said no?” Alex asked, already fully aware of the answer.

“Not really.”

Alex sighed, “What’s on your mind?”

Stephen kept his eyes focused on the road as he pulled out of the parking garage, “What the hell happened to you in Rome two years ago? You’ve never been the same since.”

“It’s none of your concern.” Alex replied.

“I think it is, you haven’t been home since. We’ve all been worried about you.”

“I’ve been busy.”

“Have you, or have you been hiding?”

Alex glared at his uncle, “It’s personal and I don’t want to talk about it. You’re better off not knowing, trust me.”

“All right, if you’re sure.” Stephen replied.

Alex knew that he owed his family some explanation. Becoming a man of the cloth was something that he had dreamed about since he was young. More than anything, he wanted to be one of those people who fought for God against Lucifer. An exorcist, yes he thought that was the perfect job for himself.

Alex silently chuckled as he remembered how naive he was. As he pulled more tobacco into his lungs, he remembered the first time he stood before the Athenaeum Pontificium Regina Apostolorum in Rome. He was so proud to be included in this program before even becoming a priest. It was rare, but willing exorcists were becoming sparce. So the Church made an exception.

Stephen looked at him sympathetically, “That bad huh?”

“Christ, if I’d known, I never would have been there.”

“But look at all you’ve accomplished since.”

Alex shook his head, “What have I accomplished exactly? I’ve written three fictional stories dealing with the psycology behind excorcisms and what standards are taken into consideration.”

“Best sellers, all three of them.”

“So what?”

“Well, they’ve earned you a comfortable lifestyle.”

“And nothing else.”

Stephen kept the car at a steady pace. Alex looked over at him breifly. Stephen had always been like a second father to him, far more than most people can say about their uncles. Now he was the only family that Alex had left. It was a realization that only tacked on to the guilt he already felt, “Look… I’m sorry. I shouldn’t snap at you like that.”

A half smile appeared on the left side of Stephen’s face where Alex couldn’t see it, “You’ve been through a lot, boy. Not the least of which being your mother’s passing. Don’t worry about it, you get a pass this time.”

“Thanks…” Alex replied.

“So anything else new with you? A girlfriend perhaps?”

“No.”

“Really? You were always the center of attention here, I find that hard to believe.”

“Believe it. I can barely take care of myself, let alone have a relationship at this point.”

“Too bad. I hate to think of you being alone.”

“Trust me, no one should share in this. That would be cruel.”

 

 

---

---

Readers,

Do you have a question about writing, publishing, my stories, etc? Please feel free to post a comment or email me.

jimthewritingwizard@gmail.com

I’ll use those comments to select my next blog post.

I have been writing for several years, have 4 published works, experience with publishing and independent work, so I can hopefully be of assistance.

Please note, I only do one of these a day and will do my best to respond to everyone, but it may take some time.

Also, feel free to check out my works of Fantasy and Historical Fiction, Available on Amazon and where ever books are sold. See the link below:

http://www.amazon.com/James-Harrington/e/B00P7FBXTU

Thanks friends!

Catch you on the flip side!

-Jim

IV

Tom kept himself in seclusion during the next few days. He went to class as much as he needed to in order to get by, but other than that, he barely came out of his room. Both Greggor and Jayme came by to see him often, but he almost never opened the door. He slowly became oblivious to the world around him.

On Monday September 23^rd, Tom was roused by the sound of frantic knocking on the door. He immediately jumped up and ran to the door. Jayme was standing on the other side with Greggor. Both of them looked pale with eyes wide in a state of panic.

Tom looked at them both oddly, “What the hell is going on guys? This better not be some fucked up intervention or something.”

“You mean you don’t know?” Jayme asked.

Tom’s eyes narrowed, “Know what?”

Jayme pushed by Tom and turned on his TV. Tom’s back hit the door as she moved. He flashed her an annoyed look, “Excuse you!”

She ignored him and turned on the TV. The screen flicked on to Channel 5 News. Images of decrepit people climbing out of their graves appeared on the screen. It looked like something out of a horror movie

Tom shrugged, “What is this, some kind of early Halloween spoof?”

Jayme shook her head, “No, this is real. This is happening right now! It’s been on the news all morning. The dead are rising and heading north. The National Guard has ordered an evacuation of Massachusetts, Maine, and New Hampshire. We need to leave.”

Tom didn’t believe a word of it. He figured that this was some kind of ploy to get him out of his room, “Very funny guys. This is pretty good… what did you get the campus TV station to play this for me or something?”

At that moment, a police car drove by the campus with its speaker blaring, “Attention, this is not a drill or a test. You are hereby ordered to evacuate. Anyone without suitable transportation may proceed to the campus center where you will be taken away from the city! This is a mandatory evacuation.”

Tom shook his head, “Oh my God… this is real.”

He immediately picked up his phone and scrolled down his contacts until he reached the name Kristen. He pressed on it and brought the phone up to his ear. The speaker clicked on and slowly began to connect.

Jayme looked at him oddly, “Who are you calling?”

“My sister.” Tom replied. “If we’re leaving, I’m going to pick her up. She’s at Emerson College, so it should be on the way.”

At that moment, the phone beeped and an automated voice came over the speaker, “Your call cannot be completed at this time, all circuits are currently busy. Please try your call again later.”

Tom groaned as he lowered the phone. Jayme frowned, “No luck?”

“No.” Tom replied. “The lines are dead.”

Jayme nodded, “Figures…”

Tom grabbed the keys to his car and and turned to the door, “I’m going to go find her.”

“Okay.” Jayme replied. “Mind if we tag along?”

Tom looked at Greggor, who had remained silent, “I don’t know that my car will fit his fat ass!”

“Oh very funny!” Greggor shot back. “Like this is the time for this!”

Tom shrugged and pushed past him, “Whatever. Come on, if you’re coming.”

Tom ran out to the parking lot. Most of the cars were already gone with the exception of a few stragglers who were trying to pack up a few odds and ends before leaving. The entire place was in a complete state of panic.

Tom pushed his car starter, making the green Jeep Cherokee come to life. It was an old SUV out of the late 90s, but it was Tom’s first car and he refused to part with it. As far as he was concerned it still ran well and he owned it outright, so there was no reason not to keep it.

Jayme hopped in the passenger side while Greggor got in back. The interior was rustic, as one would expect from an old utility vehicle. The interior was tan with a black lining.

Tom got behind the driver’s seat and put the car into drive. The old engine roared as it came to life and jolted forward. The Jeep pulled out onto the main road and headed towards the highway.

The moment the jeep reached the on ramp for Route 1 South, they were met by gridlocked traffic that wasn’t moving at all. Cars were bumper to bumper and looked frozen in place.

**

Tom and his friends waited almost six hours in the traffic. They had barely moved five miles. The tension inside was getting bad and Tom was ready to explode.

Greggor sighed as he looked out the window, “I knew you shouldn’t have gotten on the highway. Why would you do that? It’s bad enough trying to get into the city on 93 on a normal day!”

Jayme shook her head, “Like the back roads would have been any better? Listen to the radio, it’s gridlocked everywhere!”

Tom shook his head, “This is bullshit.”

“Well what do you expect?” Jayme asked. “Everyone is fleeing in the opposite direction of those zombies. Sadly, everyone is fleeing in the same direction.”

At that moment, Tom’s engine made a sputtering sound. Thankfully, he was in the right hand lane and was able to pull off onto the Carter Street exit before the car’s engine died. With what little inertia the car had left, he pulled into the Chelsea High School parking lot and brought the car to a stop. He then looked down at the gas gauge and saw that it was firmly on empty, “Fuck…”

Jayme shook her head as the palm of her hand found her forehead, “Out of gas?”

Tom nodded, “I wasn’t expecting to be on the highway for six hours.”

“Oh great!” Greggor shouted. “So what now?”

Tom shrugged, “We can’t go back, and I won’t be able to relax until I know that Kristen is safe. I’m going to hoof it.”

“You’re going to walk to Emerson from here?” Jayme asked, surprised. “That’ll take hours!”

Tom pulled out his Samsung Galaxy and input walking directions into its GPS. The phone worked to compile the information before a map appeared on the screen with a blue line to indicate which way he needed to go. A voice began giving directions, “Continue on Everett Ave towards MA-16E.”

Tom looked up and shook his head, “Another 2 hours by the looks of it, and that’s if we don’t stop.”

Greggor sighed, “It’ll be dark by then, and I don’t like the idea of running around the city at night with these zombies on the loose!”

Tom shrugged, “You don’t have to come with me if you don’t want to. I’m going to head that way though.”

“I’ve followed you this far,” Jayme replied, “might as well go the rest of the way. My family is out of state, so I can’t get to them any way.”

Greggor sighed, “All right, I’m in too.”

“Thank guys.” Tom replied with a smile as he turned and began walking down Everrett Avenue.

**

An hour and a half later, the three friends found themselves following the Freedom Trail. The GPS directed them down North Washington Street as they crossed over the Charles River. It appeared that they still had a long way to go as they crossed over the bridge.

Night had already fallen his phone said it was 7pm. The only light in the city came from the cars that were trying to get out of Boston and the undead could still be seen walking through the streets. It gave the group an eerie feeling.

Greggor breathed heavily as every nearby sound made him jump, “Look, this is crazy! The college is still a ways away and it’s too dark to even see where we’re going!”

Jayme nodded and turned to Tom, “Greggor’s right, Tom. I know how badly you want to get to your sister, but it’s too dangerous to be out like this. If the zombies don’t try to kill us, some looters might. We need to find some place to hide for the night, at least until the sun comes up.”

Tom sighed as he looked at his GPS. He was extremely resistant to the idea, but he knew that his friends were right. He wasn’t going to do his sister any good if they were mugged or killed by someone lurking in the shadows. He sighed, “Well there are hotels in the area, but I can’t imagine that they’ll be open.”

“We could break in.” Greggor replied. “I doubt that anyone would blame us.”

Jayme looked like she was deep in thought and remained silent. Tom looked at her oddly for a moment, “What is it?”

Jayme shook her head, “No… we shouldn’t go to the hotels. I can’t explain it, but something tells me that we’ll be safer if we head somewhere else.”

“Where?” Tom asked.

Jayme thought hard for a moment, “The Old North Church…”

Tom and Greggor looked at each other oddly for a moment before Tom turned back to Jayme, “Why there, how could that old building be safer?”

Jayme shrugged, “I don’t know. Like I said, I can’t explain it, maybe because it would be considered hallowed grounds?”

A frustrated look came over Greggor, “You and these damn feelings you get. I swear they get damn annoying at times!”

“Annoying, but accurate.” Tom shot back. “She’s never been wrong before.”

He then turned and nodded to Jayme, “All right, if you think we’ll be safer there, that’s where we’ll go.”

Tom switched the end location from Emerson College to the Old North Church. The map quickly switched, telling them to turn left at the end of the bridge instead of right. It took them on a straight path down the main roads.

At the end of the bridge, Tom led his friends down Causeway Street, passed the Ducali Pizzaria & Bar. Tom looked at the dark windows of the restaurant and remembered going there on a date. He quickly turned away as the thought was making him hungry.

They continued walking and headed down Commercial Street, crossed the road and headed right up the incline that was Hull Street. This was even darker and looked like nothing more than a small alley. The pitch blackness and inability to see the end of the road, gave Hull Street a far more menacing look.

Greggor was a wreck, and it didn’t help matters knowing that they were passing by an old cemetery that was barely a block up from the church. From what they could see over the brick wall, the graves were destroyed and the ground was ripped apart. It was a scarey sight, knowing that even the graves that were hundreds of years old hadn’t been spared.

The group moved on and finally made it to the Old North Church at the end of the street. It was little more than a black structure in the night and just as menacing as any other. The black gates were open, but the red door was closed.

Tom stepped out into the street and slowly walked up to the doors and placed his hands on them. To his surprise, they gave way and opened, allowing the group inside. The stale smell of air passed by them as the dark hall appeared.

The hall was as dark as the outside street was. Even the moonlight coming through the windows from outside didn’t make any difference. They had to feel their way down the isle to avoid bumping into anything.

When they reached the alter at the opposite side, Tom stepped over the felt rope and grabbed one of the candles that adorned the back wall. He then turned to his friends, “Anyone got a light?”

Greggor reached into his pocket and pulled out a stainless steel lighter, “Here you go!”

He tossed it to Tom, who looked at it for a moment, “You’re still smoking?”

Greggor shrugged as Jayme turned back to Tom, “I told you he didn’t quit!”

Tom nodded as he lit the candle and the church turned from black to white with red carpet on the floor. He nodded as he looked around, “Well that’s a little better… so where do we sleep?”

Jayme’s eyes narrowed and she stepped past Tom, “Do you hear that?”

“Hear what?” Tom asked.

“I… I don’t know…” Jayme replied. “It almost sounds like someone’s pounding on a door.”

Tom looked at her oddly. He had no idea what she was talking about. He remained silent until he heard it. The sound was little more than a muffled thud that kept repeating itself.

Tom nodded, “I hear it too, now… but how could you…”

“Let’s go see.” Jayme said, cutting him off. “Someone could be in trouble.”

“Or it could be a horde of zombies trying to get in.” Tom replied.

Jayme shrugged, “Maybe, but its worth finding out.”

She quickly turned and led Tom and Greggor down the stairs at the back of the church. The landing gave way to old wooden stairs that curved around until they reached the ground level. They looked worn as though a million shoes had trodden over them. The floor on the basement level was dark red, similar to the color of blood. Like the stairs it was also badly worn.

Tom understood why everything looked the way it did. The city had gone to great lengths to see that everything was preserved in its original form as much as possible. Unfortunately because of the passage of time, much was beginning to wear away.

The group followed the sound through the door on the right next to the stairs. The door creaked open slowly as they entered the first chamber of the basement. There was a hallway off to the side, but it was too dark to see anything.

Above their heads in the direction the noise came from was a sign that read, ‘Watch thy head.’

Tom and his friends proceeded through the narrow doorway into the next room. The walls were old exposed brick on both sides. On the left was a lot of debris, while on the right, large pipes protruded from the ceiling and ran the length of the room. Below them, was a worn out section of the wall that was in the shape of an old grave stone.

The group proceeded even further down the hall past more debris in the pitch darkness. They slowly moved around another group of pips until they reached the next hallway. It was there that the pounding was the loudest.

Tom brought the candle close to the wall where another grave-shaped slab stood. The faint light from the candle revealed old writing on the wall and a latch below it. He quickly inspected the writing and instantly pulled back in horror.

Jayme looked at him oddly, “What? What does it say?”

Tom breathed heavily as he pressed himself against the opposite wall, “Shubael Bell and Robert Fennelly, 1808!”

Greggor’s eyes went wide and he began to tremble, “Oh my God… this is a crypt! Jayme, you’ve lead us into a fucking crypt!”

At that moment, the latches on the tombs collapsed and the small slabs slowly creaked aside. A sound of old wood breaking apart accompanied the creeking of the stone slabs. The group watched as a skull appeared out of the nearest tomb.

Jayme shreaked as a skeleton stepped out, draped in rags that looked like they were once stylish colonial clothes. The skeleton looked at them for a moment before turning and limping down the hall. The bones rattled as it moved.

A second skeleton in no better condition exited another nearby one and walked passed them as well. More and more skeletons exited their crypts and began heading for the door. The only one that even seemed to notice Tom and his group was the first one.

Jayme’s eyes darted around as Tom put his hand on her shoulder, “Shh, don’t move! I don’t think they see us.”

Greggor nodded, “Either that or they just aren’t interested.”

“Well either way don’t give them a reason to attack us.” Tom replied.

More and more skeletons exited their tombs. Some had to break through the old brick walls to get out. Tom wasn’t sure how a skeleton had the strength to do this, but after seeing a walking skeleton, he was willing to let a few things go.

The group waited as the last of the skeletons passed them by. Tom looked back down the hall and nodded, “Okay, that looks like it’s the last of them.”

“Hold on.” Jayme replied. “I hear something.”

Greggor rolled his eyes, “The last time you ‘heard something’ we ended up down here in the crypt.”

Jayme glared at the dwarf, “Oh shut up, it’s not like I knew that this was down here!”

Tom nodded, “What do you hear?”

“I… I don’t know…” She replied. “It sounds like a heartbeat and light breathing. I think someone living is trapped down here.”

Greggor shrugged, “Or it’s a less decomposed corpse.”

“In a tomb from the 1700s?” Tom mused. “We’d better check it out.”

The group proceeded even further into the crypt until they reached an unusual opening in the wall. There, they saw a small storage space. A single shelf adorned the wall with a small plaque, what looked like a tiny coffin lid, and two glass urns. On the left was the remains of an old coffin that looked like it hard partially rotted away.

Jayme looked at it oddly for a moment, “Whatever we’re looking for is behind these.”

Tom stepped back, taking the candle light with him, “I… I don’t know about this…”

Jayme gave him an annoyed look, “It’s just old wood. Help me…”

Tom and Greggor moved one piece while Jayme pushed the other one aside. The brick wall under it looked severely corroded. The cement between them had broken apart so badly that the bricks were on the verge of collapse.

The three friends dropped to their knees and moved the bricks out of the way, revealing an undisturbed coffin undernieth behind them. The metal latches on the side appeared sturdy enough to aid in moving the wooden box.

Tom took one handle and nodded to Greggor, who had taken the other. Jayme watched from behind as the two guys worked. They slowly pulled the coffin out of the wall until it was completely exposed.

The coffin looked different from the one that they had just moved. This one was intact and beautifully adorned with hand-carved symbols. The wood was polished and still glossy.

Tom looked up at Jayme, “How is this possible?”

Jayme shook her head, “I don’t know… those bricks don’t look like they’ve been disturbed in years and the coffin obviously hasn’t been touched. Look at the dust.”

“Is this where the sound is coming from?” Greggor asked.

“Yes…” Jayme replied hesitantly.

The coffin was nailed shut with a bronze plaque on the cover. Tom held the candle over it and inspected the writing. He read it aloud as he inspected it.

“She sleeps in beauty,

Beauty that will never die.

The eternal soul that dwells within shall rise as a phoenix flies.

May she find happiness in a world that once scorned her,

And suffer not as the others who lurk in the shadows now do.”

Jayme’s eyes stared almost transfixed at the plaque, “Beautiful words…”

Greggor nodded and grabbed a metal rod that was on the floor behind him, “Yeah… so are we going to open it or not?”

“Whatever’s in there, is what’s making the noise.” Jayme replied.

Tom shook his head, “How can you possibly hear that? I can’t hear it even now.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” She said softly. “Let’s just get it open and see what’s going on.”

Greggor nodded and jammed the rod into the lid of the coffin. He pushed hard on it in an attempt to get it open. The wood crackled as the ancient nails gave way to the force of his push. Greggor then handed the bar to Tom so that he could work the other side.

Once the lid was successfully pried loose, Tom pulled it off and shined the candle in. To his amazement, inside was a woman no older than he was. Her eyes were closed, but she was clearly alive. Her hair was straight and shiny black. It was parted on the right and came down slightly over her cheek. Her cheekbones were very pronounced and it appeared that she had a slight overbite.

Unlike the other corpses, her clothing was intact, but clearly not from the same time period as the crypt. She was wearing chainmail under a black and purple tunic and black trowsers. It was another mystery that Tom would have to unravel.

Tom looked her over in awe. She was absolutely beautiful, “Beauty that will never die…”

Jayme smiled, “Hey Tom, you might want to wipe some of that drool off your chin before she wakes up if you even want to have a shot.”

Tom looked up at her annoyed before returning his attention to the enigma that was this woman, “How is this possible?”

Jayme shrugged, “Either she was put there recently, which makes no sense just looking at the coffin… or the fact that she herself is covered in dust. Are her ears pointed?”

Tom parted her hair and looked at her right ear, “No, they’re human… why?”

“I’d heard stories that elves were able to live for several centuries at one point… but that was back during the days of the Alliance.” Jayme replied.

Tom started tapping her on her cheek to see if he could wake her up. Greggor noticed it and backed away, “Whoa man… you think that’s such a good idea?”

“I want answers.” Tom replied. “Whatever woke up those skeletons is also responsible for her, I’m sure of it.”

The woman didn’t respond to his tapping. Her breathing was steady, but she was otherwise lifeless. Her skin was also extremely cold.

Tom could see that his candle was about to go out. They needed to get out of there before it did or they would not be able to see. He quickly grabbed the woman and hoisted her over his shoulder before turning to his friends, “Come on, let’s get the hell out of here.”

Jayme and Greggor looked at each other oddly for a moment, but quickly followed behind Tom. The group made their way back around to the staircase and made it back to the altar before the candle died. The group was once again in complete darkness.

Tom shook his head, “Fuck this, I don’t want to spend another minute here. Let’s head over to Langone Park. It’s a little more open and hopefully there won’t be any zombies there.”

The group exited the church and ran up Salem Street, heading for Charter Street. When they neared the end of Charter Street, they saw a light heading in their direction. They quickly ducked into a small walk way and hid behind the stone wall on the opposite side of Chater Street from the graveyard that they had seen earlier.

Tom watched as three men dressed in military gear, carrying assault weapons passed by. The marines? Looks like the cavalry has arrived.

Once they were gone, a confused look came over Greggor, “I don’t get it, why’d we hide from them? Maybe they could help us.”

Tom looked back at him, “One, because I haven’t found my sister yet. Two, how would you explain the living dead girl we just found by grave-robbing a national landmark?”

Greggor nodded, “Good point…”

Once the soldiers were out of site, they made their move down the walkway on their right. They ran down the path, down a flight of stairs, and across Commercial Street. The street was busy with activity from military personel who had turned the area into a makeshift base.

Tom noticed a black SUV sitting idle in the middle of the road. He quickly dismissed it as the group made their way through Langone Park. They ran out to the grassy area that was obscured by the playground, so hopefully no one would see them.

Satasfied that they were safe, Tom gently rested the woman on the ground in front of them.The gentle sound of the harbor was a nice change from the creepiness that they had been dealing with all day. At least now they could probably catch their breath.

Tom looked down at the woman lying in front of him. A gentle breeze flowed through her hair and over her skin. It looked like her features were slowly becoming animated as the breeze touched them.

Her eyes winced and her head slowly jerked to either side. She broke out in goosebumps and began to tremble. It looked like she was fighting to come out of her sleep.

Tom looked up at his friends, “Guys, I think she’s coming out of it.”

Jayme and Greggor turned and looked at her. Jayme’s eyes narrowed, “Her heart rate has increased and her lungs feel more animated. It must be the fresh air out here.”

The woman began coughing as she turned on her side. It only last a moment, allowing her to take in a deep breath. When she was ready, she slowly opened her eyes.

To everyone’s surprise her eyes were very different and clearly not human. Her pupils were shaped like cat’s eyes. There was no white either, just a dark orange that seemed to glow in the night.

Tom knelt down next to her, “Take it easy, it’s okay/”

She looked up at Tom with an odd expression on her face, “You… your words…”

She slowly shook her head as she sat up. She spoke with an accent that was most likely from Eastern Europe, “Your voice is unfamiliar to me.”

She sniffed the air as she looked around, “Am I still in Boston? I recognize the smell… at least some of it, but it looks so different. What year is this?”

“It’s 2013.” Tom replied.

A look of shock came over her, “2013… Two hundred ninety years… no…”

She grabbed Tom’s arm as a look of desperation came over her, “Who sent you, my father?”

“Your father?” Tom asked.

“Lord Drapekin.” She replied. “He was an advisor in the kings court before he was found out… is he well?”

Tom shook his head, “I have no idea what you’re talking about. We found you in an ancient tomb undernieth the Old North Church. We heard you breathing.”

The woman shook her head, “So you don’t know my father…”

Tom shook his head, “Miss… um…?”

“Oh forgive me.” She said, realizing that they had not been properly introduced. “My name is Tearsa, daughter of Lord Drapekin, advisor to George I, King of Great Britain and Ireland. Might I have the honor of your name?”

“Thomas McConnel.” Tom replied.

Tearsa smiled, “Irish…”

Tom then turned to his friends, “This is Greggor Iksan and Jayme Woodsum.”

Tearsa looked Greggor over for a moment, “You… so the legends were true. I’d heard about the prowess of dwarves.”

Greggor smiled, “Nice to meet you too.”

She then turned to Tom, “You’re human… I can tell by your smell.”

Her eyes narrowed as she looked at Jayme, “But you… your blood is different. You’re human, but not entirely.”

Jayme shook her head, “That’s none of your business.”

Tom looked up at her oddly, “Not entirely human? Well now a few things make sense… so what else are you?”

Jayme turned her back on them, “I don’t want to talk about it. Mind your own fucking business.”

Tearsa was taken aback by her words, “Such anger… it does not compliment you my lady.”

Jayme didn’t reply as Tearsa turned back to Tom, “What is the current state of the Empire?”

Tom shook his head, “The Empire?”

“The British Empire, man.” Tearsa replied.

Tom couldn’t believe what he was being asked. Had this woman been asleep for over two hundread years? She clearly wasn’t human, but she wasn’t dwarven or elven either. He shrugged as he spoke, “Tearsa, what’s the last thing you remember?”

Tearsa lowered her eyes to the ground, “My family was being hunted. We were found out for being…”

“Being what?” Tom asked, finally certain that he was going to get his answer.

Tearsa shook her head, “I’d rather not say right now. I’m sorry, but I just don’t know you well enough yet to trust you with something like that.”

“It’s okay.” Tom replied. “What happened?”

Tearsa continued her story, “I… My family was found out and we fled hear to the colonies… all thirty of us. We spent the next few years being hunted. One by one, I the people I loved get burned at the stake.”

Tears formed in her eyes as she spoke, “My father still had a few friends though. One of whom was a man named Timothy Cutler. He agreed to help my father hide me before the townspeople came for us. The last thing I remember was being placed in a wooden box. My father told me to go into hibernation until he came for me.”

“Wow…” Tom replied, “and that’s where you’ve been for three hundred years.”

Tearsa nodded, “Almost, it seems.”

She looked around at what little she could see in the darkness, “The city… I’ve never seen structures like these before. Everything is so different… Tell me, what is the state of the Empire? Who currently sits on the throne?”

“There is no Empire.” Tom replied. “The colonies rose up and threw off British rule in 1776. After that, the Empire slowly declined due to war and rebellion over the next two hundred years. Pretty much the final breaking point was World War 2 when Britain withdrew from most of its colonies. The country still exists, but it’s now a small island nation in Northern Europe. Queen Elizabeth currently sits on the throne.”

Tearsa couldn’t believe it. The British Empire was gone? This was hard to take in, “Then… who rules here?”

“No one rules.” Tom replied. “Well… not exactly anyway. We have a government that the people elect.”

“A democracy?” Tearsa asked.

“Not exactly,” Tom said, “but close. The people elect the people who vote in the president here and power is regulated to various levels of the government. Our current president is Barack Obama.”

Tearsa looked at him oddly, “Such an odd name… from where does he hail?”

Tom shrugged, “Well that depends on whome you ask, though most people would agree that he was born in this country. His father was Kenyan.”

Tearsa’s eyes narrowed, “Kenyan?”

“African.” Tom replied.

“Really?” Tearsa asked. “Incredible… so after three hundred years… the slaves now have the ability to become a ruling power?”

Tom smiled, “They haven’t been slaves in 150 years.”

Tearsa placed her hand on her forehead, “I’ve got so much catching up to do…”

 

 

 

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Readers,

Do you have a question about writing, publishing, my stories, etc? Please feel free to post a comment or email me.

jimthewritingwizard@gmail.com

I’ll use those comments to select my next blog post.

I have been writing for several years, have 4 published works, experience with publishing and independent work, so I can hopefully be of assistance.

Please note, I only do one of these a day and will do my best to respond to everyone, but it may take some time.

Also, feel free to check out my works of Fantasy and Historical Fiction, Available on Amazon and where ever books are sold. See the link below:

http://www.amazon.com/James-Harrington/e/B00P7FBXTU

Thanks friends!

Catch you on the flip side!

-Jim