Chapter 3: Mathieu

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Chapter 3: Mathieu

What a dreary night, thought the young man at his typewriter. But this was when he was at his best and artistic he thought to himself. With the moon so full in the sky, the wind promising the coming of the fall leaves and the turning of the seasons always left the young man in a sour mood. His tribe had already finished it’s harvest festival in late august so the fall should be marked as a start of the celebrations. But as always he was in a dark, brooding mood. He didn’t know why he was in such a mood all of a sudden given how the year has been since he graduated from high school. But these past two years has found him to be in a sorry state.
Despite his sorry state, it was at this time he was his best when it came to typing out what was on his mind. To say that his mind was a playground was to be an understatement. Every since high school this young man had the urge to write and tell a tale. Be it of any realm of imagination he would dive into it and make it somehow his own. People would marvel at how his ideas and descriptions would be so fleshed out as if they actually existed somewhere in worlds unseen. Such writings was able to get him into the school newspaper where he made many a student and teacher laugh at the anecdotes of the school and it’s everyday activities. But thru it all he still found himself to be an oddball in the school. Not fully a nerd but not fully accepted either.
At first he thought it was because he was native american in a privately run Christian school but that bigotry thought came and went. He held their beliefs and their convictions yet in the end he never really felt attached to the place. In fact, all that time he thought to himself that something was very wrong with the world in general. Sure he had a rough life as it was thus why he had to be in such an institution: given that or some young adults care center what choice did he have? But despite this second chance at life, be it not only from the tough streets but also with communion with the Lord, he still felt that there was something out there waiting to pounce on him like the roaring lion of the biblical teachings. He wasn’t sure what to call it at first but he felt that life was going too good to last. That despite all the goodness that was going on, badness was slowly gaining ground in the new world that he lived in.
He had high hopes for the future once he had graduated. He would go to an excellent college, get an AS in police science, perhaps even upon graduation take a job with the reservation police force. He’d show all those nay Sayers that he couldn’t survive on the rez, HA!
But as the months passed the young man found himself preoccupied with other venues of study that he did not expect himself to be compelled to research: Occult studies. It had to had been that religious studies class back in college the young man thought. It was a track of thought that made him keep thinking back to what might’ve been. Instead of going into what his parents thought would’ve been an excellent career for himself, he instead changed his major from police science to religious studies. To say that his parents were upset with him would’ve been an understatement. He’d told them that if worst came to worst he could still gain an AS and continue that course if religious studies didn’t turn out to be all that it was cracked up to be.
Yet his parents knew they couldn’t be fooled, where is it that you can get a high paying job being a master at world religions? Perhaps a teaching job but the young man hardly had any patients with himself let alone other people. Which is why he went into that particular part of study if not for just the thrill of the debates but to learn all the knowledge of times past. Here was a class that poked at the very fabric of human understanding and spirituality! To say the least it was were the majority of the myths and legends of mankind can be traced back to. Even his own tribe’s religion was cataloged in this system of information. And with that information came the knowledge of most of the unexplained and unsolved issues with the occult and the studies there in. He was fascinated to learn about the druids and other pagan groups that tried to overtake the world scene during their time, the rise and fall of the roman catholic empire and the off shoots of Christianity that brought him to believe in what he does today.
Learning about the lost half truths and double negatives of the past was just as exciting as firing a 9mm semi-auto or chasing down a perp. But thru all his studies and all his activities into his future, he kept getting the feeling that he would not have one. He couldn’t explain the feeling of pending doom as he reloaded a shotgun during target practice or turned a page on a copy of the dead sea scrolls. It was like a shadow or creeping thing that wanted to not just overtake him and his thoughts but also tear him down so that he would be no better than nothing. The doctors told him it was because he had changed a new leaf and begun a new life for himself. finding ones self on the wrong side of the law was never an easy pill to swallow when one was young. But to change that path and get use to it was never easy. That was something he had know doubt on. But with his new found faith in God, anything was possible. So long as one believes in him, they would have a future and everlasting life.
Then why was he feeling he had no life? Sure he tried to date and enjoy his youth but no female would look at him let alone talk to him. He was never tough looking let alone good looking in his youth, it was why he did all he could to act tough. But with his coming into college his body gave way from the overly tall teenager to that of a tall, dark skinned young man. He had high cheek bones and the workout regiments that the police science course gave him made his body hard and lean. You could hardly tell he had an ample body with strong muscles given the bagginess of the clothing he wore.
An outfit that he kept wearing even to the present day. Right now he found himself in front of his typewriter in the house of his parents. Being a poor college boy he still had to stay with them till he fully graduated in two more years. Just now he was preparing to write another occult thesis about the legend of the Scholomance. His parents never cared for his work on such dark subjects. But it seemed a fitting subject given how he kept feeling that all his future would have would be dark thoughts and dark deeds. Given that he was 23 years of age, he figured he was old enough to handle such evil situations.
the more this young man read and learned about the evil in this world, and the dark religions it spawned there after, he wanted to help combat this evil that was ever present since the dawn of man. His parents told him the best way for him to combat this was to live the chrisitan life, walk in the light of God and be a shining example of what God can do in one’s life. Pray for those who need it and pray for yourself to be better in your life as a whole.
then why did this young man feel he needed to do more? I remembered his one friend from high school who almost fell temptation to the dark forces. He remembered back then how much he wished he could have found those that tried to turn her to darkness and banish them from the world forever. But again he was still a teen and such things were the norm of the melodrama. He thought it was a phase given how he wanted to look smart and tough in front of this cute girl but as the years passed and his studies into the occult continued he had to admit he did have a pure loathing for those people. People who would twist the truth to fool others into their dark schemes and in the end lead them to their own self destruction.
This young man didn’t know why but he felt and thought he saw such evils happening right before his eyes. One of the reasons why he kept getting into trouble in his youth was because of what he could see that others could not. Another choice in wanting to learn about the religious studies: He could see spirits. At least, that’s what he thought they were. Since he was little he had the affinity to sense the presence of things that were not seen with the naked eye. Thanks to school and researches of his own choose, he learned of what many scholars and preachers called the spirit world. And how such worlds were divided. He never thought he could be someone that would be able to tell the difference between that of physical and spiritual. He tried to tell his trusted consorts about these visions only to be answered with ridicule and laughter.
In the end he stopped talking about it altogether.
Despite this he could still see things that were unexplained to him and started to see this vision as a curse. He began ignoring it and continued to do such till his college days. But when the feeling of pending doom would build again and he jumped into the studies of the occult, he would start seeing things again. All around him he noticed the telltale signs of discord and discontentment with humanity. It was an odd feeling to face when all you have known is a rural town in the Midwest. In the end all he could do was what he was instructed to do in the past: Pray about it and continue with his research. Be it in the bible or in other studies he had hoped to find out what he must do about this feeling of dread. Some classmates thought he just should get laid or go out and get wasted. That he should stop taking everything so serious and try to lighten up. He tried some forms of lightening up as per suggested. He even went as far as to try to ask a girl out on a date. The young man kept hoping that he would find an answer to what he was feeling. Mom figured he was just lost in trying to find his path in life and he would eventually figure it out
Whereas Dad had a bit more to think about on why his son was who he was. He found his sons interest in the religious not too unusual. When the young man asked his father why he thought such he was told that he comes from a long line of medicine men from the tribe they were in. How in fact his father would’ve become a medicine man himself if he had pursued the studies that his father before him told him to take. Instead of diligently taking to his studies, his father went the way of all wayward youth during the 1960. In the end the young man’s grandfather was the last of the medicine men in the family. The young man even remembered how his father was proud to see him study so hard and spoke of the sadness he felt because he believed he had robbed his own son of the very honor to become that of a medicine man.
The young man tried to tell his father that it did not mean much to him given how most of his tribe hardly respected him as one of their own. An apple Indian he remembered: Red on the outside, white on the inside. More so given how he converted to a white religion and taken up study in the white religious studies. Yet despite this, he had a feeling that his father watched over him with pride in his heart to see how devoted he was to his studies. If only they understood why he did such thought the young man. It wasn’t just because of learning sake, but if anything to find out why he was feeling this sense of terrible things to come. The year 1999 was suppose to mean the dawn of a new century and a new start. If that was the case then why did this young man feel that at the turn of the century it would meant he end of everything?
He was halfway thru his typing when he suddenly fell short of finishing his sentence. An odd sense passed over him as he put on his small squared glasses and looked around his room. The room itself wasn’t anything special, but what was different was the fact that he had the window open to enjoy the cool fall breeze.
There was no longer one.
Not just no breeze, there was no sound at all from the outside. Sensing something was wrong, the young man got up and left his room. The house his family shared wasn’t a large house but given it’s size it would be hard to drown out any noise coming from within. He heard his mother and father enjoying the television while the rest of his siblings were out and about doing their usual evening rituals. For some reason he had a sudden urge to go outside into the night. That was nothing of the ordinary for he loved to run in the darkness; listening to the music in his CD player. But on this night he felt no interest in running or listening to music that allowed his imagination to wander. Without a second thought, he left his home and went out into the cool night. the house that his family lived in happens to be on the border of the indian reservation. So the trek to rural back yard to wilderness was a short one. The young man let himself open up in ways he wasn’t sure how and tried to listen to what nature had in store for him tonight. It was highly unusual for the forest to be so quiet at this time of night. Sure it was at the hour of midnight but there should be at least the sound of an owl or the chirping of crickets in the under growth.
Yet there was not a sound to be heard.
Not even that of a wolf howling at the full moon.
Something was wrong, something was very wrong.
The young man was about to turn back and head home to safety when he began to hear the soft sound of weeping. He strained to hear what exactly the sound was and in time he began to make out the noise in the quiet night.
It was a woman crying.
A woman crying?
Instantly his curiosity was peaked. Did by chance a couple went out into the night, got drunk, had a fight and the man left his woman alone in the dark? Tipsy and scared? It was possible given the activity on the reservation but why did the young man have the urge to pull out his cross from under his shirt and unsheathed his knife? He thought about going back home and getting his father for help but just as he thought such an action, the crying began to fade away. Knowing it would be against his better judgment, the young man decided to follow the sound. No time to get the family shotgun or gather up the family, whatever it was that was out there, it was fading fast.
After giving a silent prayer to God, he went on his way in search of the crying. At times it seemed to be to his right but then would suddenly change to his left. One moment it was almost too far away to hear, the next it was practically on top of him. Given the situation he was sure he was not facing something that would be constituted as the norm. He was sure that he had wandered into the realm of the supernatural. He thought he would be scared but he felt that he had been ready for this encounter for years. And in some ways he was.
After an hour of searching, he decided to try a different trick than trying to see his way thru the darkness. the moon was helpful enough in giving him the light he needed to see his path. It helped as well that he knew this area well. But what he needed was to not search for the thing that was out there, he should allow himself to be found by it. Spirits had the trickiest ideas to confuse and get someone lost in the very area that is familiar to them. The darkness can make many regular landmarks recognizable in the day be totally useless at night. Upon deciding this the young man sat himself down Indian style and place his knife in his lap. From there he closed his eyes and waited.
Still he could not hear anything out in the wilderness. No wind or animal calls could be heard this night of nights. All he could do was feel what most could not feel. He felt the moonlight bathe his body and the sensation the grass was under the clothing he wore. He probably looked out of place wearing black baggy, mutli- pocketed jeans with a knife sheath attacked to his belt at mid thigh. Finishing his look was a black shirt with a black hoodie that had the punisher logo on the front when zipped up. He didn’t know why he decided to wear such that night but it seemed more appropriate to wear such when one is in a dark mood.
Or when about to face the dead.
The only color to his outfit was the silver cross that dangled from his chest, the very one that he grabbed with one free hand as his other rest on the hilt of his blade. Suddenly, the young man felt another presence near him. It wasn’t that of an animal nor was it of something that was human. It didn’t make a sound or give off any smell, but he knew it was there. Just then the wind picked up and howled thru the tree limbs of the forest.
The young man opened his eyes.
A beautiful blonde woman was facing him.
Police science training took over and the young man found himself in a combat stance with knife ready, it’s blade facing outward in his inverted grip. She wasn’t close enough to be in his personal space or kill zone but she was close enough to make one nervous. The young man was about to call out a challenge till he looked the young woman over. Her hair was wavy along with having ringlets frame her white face. Her frame was slender and graceful, allowing her body to look wonderful in the outfit she wore. An outfit that was unfamiliar to the young man. It had the markings and cut of that in the Victorian era but what was different was that the skirt was far too short and could’ve made much due with shorts. It was green in color and fit her like a second skin. But what jumped out the most from this woman's appearance was her eyes and her cheeks.
They were wide and shining.
Her checks were went with tears.
“It’s you,” said the young man, slowly lowering his knife. He had finally found the woman he heard crying. Or was it that she had found him, right now he wasn’t sure. there was nothing that seemed sinister about her yet he was reluctant to fully sheath his blade. The blonde merely blinked at him and took in the full view that was the young man standing before him. “Are you alright?” asked the young man. Still the blonde gazed at him as if she was trying to pierce his very soul. A look he didn’t care for to say the least. He was about to ask the same question again when the blonde began to walk toward him. Instinctively he started to back away but stopped himself short. If this was a spirit or a dark entity he would not show it any fear. Fear is what had power over him and he wasn't about to allow that to happen.
Despite this he brought his knife back up to bare. Either the blonde didn't care or wasn’t scared of the blade, she continued her march till her face was only inches away from his. The young man saw how the blonde walked and knew that indeed she was that of a woman. The curve of her hips and the way she walked proved that. But upon seeing her up close and almost pressing up against him was almost more than he could bear. It was bad enough that he had never been with a woman but her persona was wrecking havoc with his inner senses. She had no smell yet she felt cold and distance despite being so close. Her eyes were warm and shining thought he also saw that they were long since dead.
Who was this woman?
Before he could stutter his question, the blonde lightly brought her right hand to his cheek and caressed it. Her touch was cold that it almost made him jump out of his skin. Worse off the touch felt human, no spirit could make themselves that solid to touch someone. there was some fleeting sense of disatachement during such encounters the young man had read. But to this point the blonde had been breaking several of the supernatural rules. But the young man did not think it wise to point this out to her. He could feel the warmth of his skin creep along her hand as if to warm hers as well. As she continued to caress his cheek the young man continued to look into her eyes and drink in her features. Given the lovely view, he knew something was wrong.
And without warning the blonde gave him a slap that snapped his head to the side and made him see stars.
The pain shot thru his cheek like a splash of ice water as he began to taste the coppery fluid of blood flow into his mouth. When he moved his eyes back to face the blonde that assaulted him, she was gone. He looked down to see his own blood dribble down the side of his lip and onto the ground, right next to a set of dainty footprints. The young man did a full 360 of his surroundings only to find nothing but himself alone in the woods. he touched the throbbing pain on the side of his cheek, the blonde had hit him! Not just hit him but hard enough for him to accidentally bite himself and draw blood! No spirit could’ve done such like this he thought. Spirits were just that, spirits. They had no body or physical presence. And yet here was this mysteriously blonde woman in the woods, crying her eyes out for an hour, then touching him and giving him a smarting that not only hurt his face but rocked the very ideas he had come to learn in his studies!
He suddenly began to feel very venerable out in the woods. Just when that thought entered his mind, the young man began to feel a dark presence enter the woods. He felt it slither and slide along the leaves and blow along the trails of the wind. It rustled the tree branches and forced the young man’s heart to race. And thru the arrival of this dark presence he began to hear something else in the background. Unlike the crying of just moments ago but of something that promised evil deeds in the coming of darkness. The feeling that the young man had been feeling throughout his childhood came back in full force. So much force that he lost his balance and fell to his knees. He felt something trying to crash into him, not just physically but spiritually as well. He felt as if his very soul was being pressed tightly together, suffocating him, making it hard to breathe. Never in his life did this feeling ever feel so conflicting and all encompassing. Despite the discomfort, it was something he was use to and something he could shrug off as he stood in the darkness. And thru it all he finally began to register the very sound that was in the wind.
The sound of sinister laughter.
The young man stood up and thrust his blade in the air, giving out his own war cry toward this evil laughter. He decided that if this was to be the day that evil took him and destroyed what remained of his body, he would know full well that his soul would not be taken by these villain and vile fiends. The laughter and the wind howled at him and he returned the gesture with his cries of challenge and combat.
And just like that, it was gone. The young man was panting and bleeding hard thru the corner of his lip. He knew he just faced off with evil and stood strong against it. Why it left he was not sure, but he knew for a fact that he had just faced off with the very ill feelings that had kept with him all thru his youth. For the first time in his life, out in that dark wilderness, he felt he had a future. And if to try to tear him area from that thought, the young man had the urge to look up at the full moon and see it turn to blood. He knew what he was seeing, whatever evil was out there it was trying to scare him into submission. But he was not the type to run like a coward, like a whipped dog with it’s tail between it’s legs. It was a challenge, a challenge not only for the fate of his future but for the fate of all that he felt was about to come to an end. That very night, Mathieu Parker Freeman, thrust his blade up high and took the challenge with combative words in his heart. “Just bring it!!”