Hexed Book Three: Gerald

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Romance  |  House: The Imaginarium

Jay's Moments Part One

Chapter 3 (v.1) - Moments Part One

Submitted: April 03, 2017

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Submitted: April 03, 2017

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Gerald moved through the abandoned streets that night, he had always had a sense of things. Not like one would normally describe, he had often heard people say “I have a feeling” or “I just know”, it was nothing like that. When he felt, there was a sort of physical manifestation, something indescribable unless one was there. That night he had walked as he would normally, but as he made his way into the night; he could feel the tension building like a fountain that had filled for days ready to overflow.

 

For all intensive purposes it should have been wonderful, like all seventeen year old boys he was filled with pheromones, excited from the physical engagement with a young lady. But not any young lady, a young lady to whom he had the most innocent of affections for. His mind had been filled with ideas, fantasies of them making a life together; perhaps he would join the Military, provide her with a home a place she could call her own. Maybe they'd have children, he could literally see himself playing with them, singing them songs as they fell asleep in his arms.

 

Those emotions, that exciting feeling of completion and success as she proclaimed she herself had felt the same for him were lost now, like so many other occasions that should have had joy in his short life. As he felt that cool October breeze hit him, he could almost smell it, with a sigh he let out it was over five miles to his home and he knew; he was being hunted.

 

This was something he had grown quite accustomed to, it never came on in a moment; instead it was a building effect, days after days the feeling would grow; until he knew the altercation with what he would come to call the darkness was inevitable. Each step through he took the shadows seemed to move, noises from the darkness filled his ears, cold sweat overtook him even in the chilled night.

 

“Ignore it, keep moving.” He told himself audibly, keeping his eyes forward as he unzipped his coat.

 

“It's not real, remember Jay it's not real. The Priest said it's not real.” He whispered as he remembered the night he lit out from his home; when he bolted out the front door of his Parent's home, sprinting through the streets until he arrived at his local Parish Church to find it locked. As a younger man he remembered how it always remained unlocked so that Parishioners that worked at one of the local factories or for the Government on a graveyard shift stop in and say a quick prayer. Things had changed, people had changed, now it was locked to ensure the valuables wouldn't be vandalized or stolen, something his father would say was “A sign of moral decline.”

 

Jay had ran full tilt, by the time he had reached the church his lungs were burning his bare feet chaffed, he had no choice, he banged on the rectory door to no avail. So he made the decision to climb, climb to what he knew was the Pastor's window and knock. Instead of counsel, instead of help; the modern Priest called the Police, who promptly escorted him home. He would never forget the Priest's statement, “It's all in your head son, it's not real.” his voice would echo with him forever.

 

But it never helped on nights like this, which seemed to come even more often as of late. The last few years had plagued him with shadows and voices, like a dial on a radio that became louder the more he tried to ignore it. It was if whatever these creatures were knew, they knew that he knew, and they fed on it; they wanted him to know more. Jay only knew one thing, that tonight they had found him yet again.

 

He could hear the soft footsteps behind him as he made his way past the Elementary school, a path he traveled quite frequently when he grew up; a hole in the fence led him to the back field which would in turn allow him to cross over the bridge under which a concrete creek was and leave him about a mile from his home.

 

“Dont look back.” he whispered to himself, his feet ready to fly his mind focused only on the ground approximately five feet in front of him. “Keep moving.” Gerald quickened his pace trying to make his way past the chain link fence to the opening he knew was coming.

 

He wasn't surprised when it came, the sound of the chain link fence clanging from behind him. “Fuck.” he whispered as he looked over his shoulder, he knew; something inside of him knew that by looking back he had put himself in a position where he had no choice but to flee.

 

There she was, clear to him a blond child her hair wet and covering her face, in a white sheer night gown adorned with lace trimmings, he feet bare and filthy, darkened but a clear vision underneath the street lamps. She held just a stick, dragging it along the fence.

 

It wasn't a thought for Gerald, he ran; he was accustomed to the adrenaline filling him with strength and speed as he let out; he instinctively knew he had to put distance between himself and this child. He pushed his lungs burning as he made his way through the dark school yard, careful not to look back. He seemingly flew over the bridge and into the adjacent neighborhood.

 

“One foot in front of the other, keep moving” he told himself as he moved to the main street that separated the current neighborhood and the his own. He pushed until he crossed the four lane street, careful to keep his mind aware.

 

Reaching the other side he stopped, he should have put enough distance between himself and the girl; now he could catch his breath. “Damn it.” He said to himself, he already knew before the sound came, a scraping sound, he knew it was wood on concrete as he spun to look.

 

There she was, dragging her stick across the street; her head still hung low, moving with intent, with purpose.

 

He hadn't need to have looked, he already knew, something from within him, something in the wind told him; told him well before that moment had come.

 

 


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