The Thirteen

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

Chapter 13 (v.1) - Thirteen

Submitted: July 16, 2008

Reads: 211

Comments: 5

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Submitted: July 16, 2008

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Thirteen

2460. The world turns through and through. Same land. Same places. Same water. Same time.

Jalel did not scream but simply stared with a sadness. Time had passed. The warehouse was full of bodies. The warehouse was covered in bodies lying here and there. He saw Phillipa, that skinny, bag of bones in the latest fashions, that college cheerleader, that girl, the sweat started to pour down from her blond hair and ruin the carefully planted make up.

He saw her die and he knew that at the end of it all was the start.

All around him bodies.

Phillipa. Gurkfel. Mel. Jonny. Alexa. Marcos. Emilia. Tony. Simone. Duke. Beth. Riki.

There were all lying here. There bodies decomposing. Drawn from different times and spaces into this warehouse.

Phillipa. Gurkfel. Mel. Jonny. Alexa. Marcos. Emilia. Tony. Simone. Duke. Beth. Riki.

Twelve bodies, but multiplied hundreds and hundreds of times so that bodies swarmed the entire warehouse. Poor Phillipa, if she had looked closely she would have seen hundreds of her own rotting body.

Phillipa. Gurkfel. Mel. Jonny. Alexa. Marcos. Emilia. Tony. Simone. Duke. Beth. Riki.Phillipa. Gurkfel. Mel. Jonny. Alexa. Marcos. Emilia. Tony. Simone. Duke. Beth. Riki.Phillipa. Gurkfel. Mel. Jonny. Alexa. Marcos. Emilia. Tony. Simone. Duke. Beth. Riki.Phillipa. Gurkfel. Mel. Jonny. Alexa. Marcos. Emilia. Tony. Simone. Duke. Beth. Riki.Phillipa. Gurkfel. Mel. Jonny. Alexa. Marcos. Emilia. Tony. Simone. Duke. Beth. Riki.Phillipa. Gurkfel. Mel. Jonny. Alexa. Marcos. Emilia. Tony. Simone. Duke. Beth. Riki.Phillipa. Gurkfel. Mel. Jonny. Alexa. Marcos. Emilia. Tony. Simone. Duke. Beth. Riki.Phillipa. Gurkfel. Mel. Jonny. Alexa. Marcos. Emilia. Tony. Simone. Duke. Beth. Riki.Phillipa. Gurkfel. Mel. Jonny. Alexa. Marcos. Emilia. Tony. Simone. Duke. Beth. Riki.Phillipa. Gurkfel. Mel. Jonny. Alexa. Marcos. Emilia. Tony. Simone. Duke. Beth. Riki.Phillipa. Gurkfel. Mel. Jonny. Alexa. Marcos. Emilia. Tony. Simone. Duke. Beth. Riki.

They were just names. They were just numbers. But Jalel wept for them all.

"I still need one more."

Mostafar was here.

"What kind of sick game are you playing?" asked Jalel, not expecting an answer, which he didn't get.

"I need you to complete my set. Thirteen bodies multiplied thirteen times and then thirteen times again," said Mostafar, creeping over the bodies towards Jalel, "They all ran. They all ran you know. They were all scared. Scared of themselves. Scared of the beasts. Scared of the darkness. And you are scared too...!"

"It was cruel to make them kill themselves."

"It was human nature!"

Jalel thought for a moment. Kill me then. Kill me. He thought.

He did not draw his sword as Mostafar drawed his. He started walking straight towards the murderer.

"I do not fear this death, Mostafar," he said walking towards the sword, "I do not fear you either. Your friends in the darkness can not harm me."

And suddenly there was everything, there were ghosts and demons and foul, unspeakable things, there were sins and blood and tears and sweat all rushing around Jalel in a wirlwind. But he was not scared. And suddenly he was flying down cliffs and suddenly he was drowing in water and suddenly he was burning in fire but he was not scared. And through it all he simply kept walking until his faith was rewarded.

The warehouse reappeared. He had moved but a few yards closer to Mostafar.

"Kill me then." said Jalel, looking straight into the eyes of Mostafar.

But the crooked, stooped pale white, black and red face of Mostafar was scowling and he was shrinking back at the march of Jalel.

"Turn your back!" he screamed, "Run away! Let me chase you!"

"You can't kill a man who doesn't fear death can you?"

"I know of powers that would shake you to dust!"

"Yes," said Jalel, "And I know of powers greater than even that."

As the sword of Mostafar touched the skin of Jalel there was a blinding flash and a flutter of wings, as if a thousand bats or ravens had fled on their wings. Jalel dropped to the ground.

The bodies were gone. Vanished. But Jalel knew the twelve who died would never come back, and with Mostafar gone into the realms of the unknown, he would never know why it had to be thirteen. And yet, perhaps it was better it was never found out.


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