The Warrior's Beckoning

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic

Chapter 5 (v.1) - Frank's Sacrifice

Submitted: May 15, 2019

Reads: 10

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Submitted: May 15, 2019



 Frank’s Sacrifice



THE GLASS CYLINDER closed around me, sealing me in. There would be no escape from this. What have I stepped into? Daniel and David appeared dead in their glass prisons, and I awaited my execution—willingly, though it was frightening nonetheless. Knowing that it would merely be the death of my body gave me the courage I needed to hold back the urge to scream.

Energy had surrounded both Daniel and David, and as their bodies slid to the floor of the chamber, a swirl of energy and light—the rift, I assumed—appeared at the top of their chambers. Now, as I felt myself slipping loose from my body, shedding my old self like shrugging off a coat, I welcomed that same energy sparking around me. I didn’t want to go back. I was not afraid. I could no longer feel my body. As if in a dream, I was pulled into a void, and I saw the body that had been mine sink down against the glass.

The rift sealed behind me, leaving me in complete darkness…for a moment. Then a light came from below and stretched through the void, carrying me as it went, a bubble moving in a tube of liquid light surrounded by blackness.

It should have been much more than anyone could handle, yet I was perfectly at peace, even knowing that a scene of terror awaited me at the end of the tunnel. And suddenly, there it was: an altar…a dark mass surrounding a bloody boy…a father restrained by two cloaked figures.

The Drifter lay sprawled and bloodied in the distance, dead. He had followed the entity to the encampment and, assessing his options, taken his own life, knowing it was necessary. He had always known.

As I was thrust into his body, I heard the weeping of a mother and daughter. The demon had released his hold on them so he could watch them suffer.

In my new body, I stood quickly. My legs felt rubbery but young and strong. I picked up the musket from the ground, feeling a strange power within me waiting to be unlocked. I sprinted toward the altar, where the boy’s body had been claimed by a dark mass, transforming him into the creature we battled in the woods. I paused to take careful aim from the edge of the camp. I fired and hit one of the cloaked figures holding the father, who grabbed the falling figure’s hood and yanked him toward his other captor. Their heads met with a loud crack, and both fell.

“LET HIM PASS!” the creature called out. The cloaked figures trembled at the terrible voice and stepped aside.

The father grabbed his musket and pistol and ran toward the Drifter—toward me, screaming in fury. “You! You abandoned my son and me to this evil fate!” As he reached my side, he stared in confusion at the slick of blood that drenched my nightshirt and trousers. “Now, when it is too late, how dare you show your face?” the father asked in a saddened voice.

“I am a different man now,” I said. He shook his head, not understanding. How could he?

I stared at the creature, wondering how I was meant to stop it. The father was looking at me with equal parts amazement and fear, and I looked down. My hands were glowing. Could

that be the strange power I had felt? I raised my right hand and made a fist, and the light fused into a brilliant white ball. Without thinking, I hurled it at the approaching creature. As it struck the encroaching shadow, a shadow mist was released from its form.

The creature stumbled and snarled. I looked at the father. “Your family was under its control. They have been released now and await you to the south. Go to them.”

“And my son?”

“Wait for him. He will be there soon. Run.”

He scrambled away, and I turned to face the creature again. It charged. It was the same as the first encounter: massive. As I sprinted toward it, it swung its crushing arms at me. I jumped several feet into the air, hurling a ball of light at its chest. Again it roared and stumbled, crushing several of the cloaked figures nearby as it staggered. It charged once more, and I rolled between its legs and threw a ball of light at its back. It pitched forward, shrieking in frustration.

Yet despite my efforts, the creature barely slowed down. I needed to hold on until the family escaped. As it lunged for me, I jumped onto its head and sent a quick barrage of light orbs into its skull. It roared and thrashed, knocking me to the ground. I rolled and recovered, firing another volley of shots into its face.

The creature merely laughed. “A commendable effort,” it said. It laughed again.

I gathered up all my strength and hurled a large ball of white energy into its gaping maw as it laughed. As I did so, a black mist spiraled from its back, unnoticed by the creature. The creature was too busy rearing back to crush me.

My best was nearly done. Had it been enough?

© Copyright 2019 Patrick A Howard. All rights reserved.


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