Chapter 4: Elizabeth
On any given night, one can see many of the generation Xers doing their usual activities that would make many of the later generations either turn their nose in disgust or ignore them completely. But not all generation Xers are cut from the same clothe. Which is where we find one in particular doing what most probably wouldn’t do given the chance: staying at home reading the bible. Such is the case with this cute little girl.
Being of only 20 years of age yet looking like that of child does little to diminish her quiet demeanor. To many on lookers she hardly seems to fit the row of a young woman. More so is the evident of her room decor. Everything in pastel pinks and other girly colors that would long ago abandon the tastes of most modern youths.
Again hardly is the case with this little woman. She has long put aside the conquests of appearance and gives into the temptations of the mental and spiritual. What are looks when it’s what inside that count? Granted she still cuts a cute figure in her purple dress with white turtleneck. Given the brand of a bookworm in college, she still maintains a physic that would merit any gym class major. She is an able runner with small legs that can kick when need to. The rest of her fits well with the outlooks being that of a bookworm. The only exception being she had abandoned her glass of high school and taken on the concept of corrective contacts. With her glasses gone, her face has a more open look and allows more of her Asian side to show, her eyes being the natural look of shaped almonds. Along with that appearance it gives her the look of less than a child then that of a mature woman, height not withstanding. Even when calling into exception the length of her hair. Any longer and it could be mistaken for a cloak, jet black and luscious. Being just shy of 5 ft she at times feels exactly want she looks: a little woman. Still a woman regardless, given the ampleness in the chest region. Given the proper clothing she could deck herself out to be quite the looker. But instead of picking and choose outfits that best suit her figure, she decides to wear outfits that just feel comfortable. Besides, there’s a modesty factor at play. Even when she goes out in swimsuit, she does her best not to be around men for fear of them looking at her exposed chest....
and besides, thinks this little woman. Looks are only skin deep when the soul is what's more important. Unlike most of her generation, she is a devoted Christian. More so than others by some standards. Given a choice she would rather watch or do something that would benefit God’s work than the norm for most of her age. Sure she’ll enjoy a “nerdy” activity like watch some sci-fi show and do the natural girl activities like shopping. But never at the stores that show clothing that cover less than what they mean to. Despite her wearing a dress this night of nights, she wears it like the rest of them. Long and to the ankle. “Skin is sin” was her motto. She could not bear the thought that even herself could lead a man down the path of damnation by just the sight of her smooth, shapely legs....
Again, she was what they call, hardcore Christian. Down to the core. Very few understood her devotion to God and all his greatness. More also understood why she didn’t do normal things outside of the church and just chill. What they didn’t understand was that this was her idea of chilling. She finds joy in helping younger kids learn the ways of God and teaching them about his righteousness. She sings with all her heart in Sunday services. And studies the bible with a passion one would think is reserved for those that read trashy romance novels. In the end very few understood her and her godly ways. Even when she was friends back in the Christian school she once attended. Sure they could commune with the word but they don’t fully divulge themselves into his teachings. If only they devoted themselves she would always think they could become more than what they realize. The thrill of being able to not only know the Lord’s plan but also have a speaking communion with him made her heart race, her soul to sing out and openly praise God for the gifts he has given her.
She gave herself completely to God so that she may do his works and be used in whatever task he asked of her. Some might see this as religious zealotry or blind devotion. But unlike other religions that demand total obedience or indeed blind devotion to a bygone faith. Her God has given her the choice of free will; to do as she saw fit for not just herself but for her walk with God. Everyone has there own way of praising God; this little woman has her way not unlike others. She sometimes wonders if her strong faith is because not only of her youth and upbringing but also because of her ancestral past of being connected to Buddha. Though she’s never worshipped Buddha before, she knows that her ancestors once did. Being of Laos/Chinese descent didn’t make her an immediate convert to Buddhism. Like she said, she was a free human being. And she was grateful to be born, and all the more grateful to be able to choose between the two. IN her heart and mind’s eye: God was in control.
As always, even in college her beliefs were very different from those around here. If not more so, she found that her faith and deep devotion was very much in the minority. She met people that really need the Lord to work thru them and others that didn’t even care about him. So many religions and so many unbelievers almost made her weep during her first week. But she merely put that sadness to God so that he can work thru her if only to be a shining beacon of what God can accomplish in one’s life. She had already shown the way to three students this very semester.
So unlike most her age and gender, she found herself sitting at her pink desk, reading her King James Bible. On quiet nights like these she enjoyed the atmosphere the most. All was quiet and she felt that the words would literally leap out at her as she read them. But for some reason the words were not speaking to her tonight. She read the words like she usually did but she got nothing out of them. It was like she was reading something over and over again till it sounded like gibberish. The little woman thought she was just exhausted given how her college studies kept her busy. But even still she always made time to read her bible before she went to bed and said her prayers. How odd it was for her to not feel sleep yet be tired of the bible!
She looked around the moon to see if anything was amiss. The only thing she noticed out of the ordinary was the how the moon shined thru her basement window. She didn’t realize that the moon was to be full and shiny tonight of al nights. Again she tried to read her bible but the words just wouldn’t take any meaning. The Little woman thought that perhaps some fresh air would do her some good. So with that in mind, she made her way to her window and opened the slide door. Once the window was opened, a ferocious wind blew thru the opening, practically knocking her onto her pink bed and making her school work papers spin out of control. She spent a good while gathering up her homework once the wind died down. She found it very odd that it should happen to blow just when she opened her window. After all the news reports said it was suppose to be a quiet night with clear skies. But that moon...
Once she got her work back in order she went back to her table to try to read her bible once more. To her surprise she found that the pages in her bible had changed. Instead of reading in her daily devotional section, it was now set to the final chapter in the bible.
The book of revelations.
The little woman was never one to think of ill omens, more so given that her soul belonged to God, but she found it strange that her bible would happen to be there. Then she remembered the gust of wind that came thru her window a few moments ago. Just the wind thought the little woman. It was nothing to really get worked up about. She’d just turn back to her devotional page. But as she began to turn the page, a particular verse in revelations jumped out at her.
“The third angel poured out his vial upon the rivers and fountains of waters; and they became blood.”
She looked at the verse and it was 16:4. How odd thought the little woman. She didn’t know why such a verse would speak to her at this time of night. She wasn’t much for a studier of the end times. But she looked back on the beginning of the chapter to find that it was the chapter that spoke of God releasing his final wrath on the people of earth who had allied themselves with the Anti-Christ. There was a reason why she didn’t like to dwell too much on the back of the book. Sure it tells of how God will triumph over the antichrist, but all those poor people. Even if they had turned their backs on God, it was still heartbreaking to read what was to become of them. Aching sores, blinding burns, total darkness and bitter pain. It was a warning to those that were to decide on who's side they would choose. But the little woman still saw them as brothers and sisters in agony for their folly. It hurt and touched her so that at times during her readings she would cry in pain for those lost souls, only to cry for joy when God returns to set up his New Kingdom.
But tonight, instead of following the mindset of praising God upon learning of the end of evil, the little woman is racked with guilt and feels a heavy weight on her heart. It strikes her like a solid blow to the chest. She can’t help but double over and begin to weep upon her open bible. She beings to cry, but not just cry for crying sake, but real wailing and flows of tears. As if she is not only crying for the poor souls lost to God but for every single person on the planet at this very moment who was unsaved and walking the path of sin. She cried for the unborn that were killed for the sake of pro-choice. She cried for those on their deathbeds that would not know the joy of believing in Jesus and having everlasting life, she cried for all of those who fought and died in wars that had know meaning, she cried for every family that lost a loved one thru decease and once that hardened their hearts with hate. She cried for the killers that knew not how to forgive and for those that unwittingly lead their fellow man into sin.
Most of all, she cried for her very generation.
The little woman was rack with such heavy sobs it hurt to exhale. When she thought she was finished with her tears, more of them would come forth like a mid spring rain. She didn’t know why she felt this all of a sudden and why it came to pass. She was heavy with such grief it was as if the entire sins of man were laid upon her. She took the place of those that could not or would not cry, and it nearly broke her heart, it was like losing a love she had never known. It cut into her soul so deeply she felt that it would take a miracle for God to heal her wounded heart. She prayed to God and asked him to take this horrible pain from her and help her to overcome it. In time her sniffling ceased and it hurt less to breathe. She didn’t know what came over her as she tried to dry away her tears.
It wasn’t until she noticed that her bible was wet that she knew something was wrong. She’d cried on her bible before in the past but instead of seeing watermarks on the pages, she saw black blotches; as if someone had used an old fashion ink pin and made drops marks on the written word. She also noticed that it was very hard to see and it hurt terribly to open her eyes. When she could she felt a stinging pain and saw red overshadowing all she look upon. The little woman looked at her shirtsleeves and saw they too were stained with black splotches. The color looking more stark on her white turtleneck. Slowly she made her way to the bathroom to splash some cool water on her face and help with the stinging she felt. The water ran from the faucet as she took handfuls of water into her cupped hands and began to wash her face and eyes. She didn’t know why but it still hurt just to squint let alone open her eyes up wind. She wondered if her eyes were having an adverse effect to the new contact lens prescription. Thru the pain she lifted her face from the sink and opened her eyes wide to see if there was any redness in them.
What she saw made her freeze in her tracks.
In the reflection of the mirror she saw a blond woman standing behind her. She saw this stranger had long blonde hair with ringlets framing her white, moon shaped face. Her eyes were dark and black rimmed with some sort of makeup. Her mouth was a shade darker than her complexion. But most shocking of all was how big her eyes were, and how they seemed to take in all that they could from the little woman’s reflection.
The little woman took in all of what she saw in the seconds it took for her to realize that in her reflection that her eyes were not only bloodshot but bleeding.
The Little woman was crying tears of blood.
The little woman screamed so loud and so long that it took all the members of her family calm her down. They found her hiding the bathroom bathtub and even then they had to break down the door to get to her. Once they found her, the little woman kept saying that her eyes were bleeding and that some blonde woman was in the house. Over and over again she would say this and would not stop till her older brother searched the house and the outside to prove to her that there were no intruders. When she cried out that she was bleeding and her eyes hurt, her family tried to show her that the sink, the towels she used to dry this blood were not bloody at all. That the only liquid that was on her cheeks, on her bible and wetting the towels was her very own salty tears. And that the very pain she felt was nothing more than her crying for a long time. That the reason why her face was red rimmed, puffy and bloodshot was because of her excessive crying.
That night, Elizabeth Omiko Tzu, could not sleep in her room. She stayed up all night sitting on the family couch with her eyes squeezed shut. She knew what she saw but couldn’t understood why only she could see such. That night, as she kept her eyes shut, she grabbed her gold cross that hung around her neck and prayed to God for understanding and protection. A prayer that she performed for the rest of the night. If only she had dared open her eyes at all during what remained of the sleepless night, and had the courage to go back into the room she fled from, she would’ve seen a blood red moon shining down thru here open window. And if her room door wasn’t closed, she could’ve also heard the laughter of a sinister man from the shadows.
Sunday, September 17, 2006
Sunday, September 10, 2006
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!!”
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!!”
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