The Boy With No Name

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Action and Adventure  |  House: Booksie Classic
What can I say? It was a very dreary day when I wrote this. I felt like crying.

Submitted: November 06, 2013

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Submitted: November 06, 2013

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He held a sword in his hands.
 He was climbing the tall side of the colossal building.
 It's stained glass windows shed no light, for it was forever dark out.
 Swallowing the cathedral in darkness was the Dark. Calling out names with hatred, "Ben! John! Luke!"
His voice was unimaginably horrid and it made anybody feel dead inside.
 The worst part was when he called out your own name.
 You would feel horrified, full of despair, sadness, loneliness, hatred, and other things i dare not mention for they are the worst.  The boy was about 16, brown hair and eyes.
 He was strongly built so the climb was not too hard and the walls were filled with edges and ledges of all sorts of designs.
 No one would ever know what he was thinking, the look on his face showed no emotions.
 You might guess he was hoping the Dark would not ever say his name.
 He might have been thinking that, for we shall never know, as I already told you.
 All the while the Dark has been calling out names some not even i have ever heard.
 Some from ancient times.
 Some that didn't even sound like names.
 Yet they had all meant something to someone once.
 Not anymore.
 For now they were feeling the pain and clutching their hearts and being filled with horrid things.
 The boy finally reached the ledge he had climbed for.  
He stood strait and tall and lifted the sword up.  
The Dark was screaming horribly at him all the names in the universe.
 He never flinched once.
 Before he threw the sword, he glanced at a small figure on the ground.
 She was on her knees and holding what looked like a string of beads.  
The Dark now noticed the brown haired girl and grinned terribly at her and the boy.
 He had been saving this name for the right moment.
 Just as the boy was to drop the sword, the thing said in a wicked whisper, " Catherine."
 The boy almost died himself as he saw his friend, companion and love fall, clutching her rosary.
 His face broke into tears and he yelled her name with love.
 Filled with a sadness deep but not deep enough for despair, he threw the sword.
 The sword of Michael the Archangel hit its target and the Dark screamed its most hellish scream.
  The Dark started to shrink but the scream didn't.
 The boy quickly climbed down the wall and ran to his fallen friend.
 He was sobbing as he knelt down on both knees.
 He picked her up in both his arms and kissed her smiling face over and over, tears washing away the dirt from their journey.  By now, the Dark had disappeared.
 It's scream still rang in his ears.
 After the sobbing had stopped, he stood and walked to the alter.
 He laid her on the steps leading up to it and knelt and prayed a prayed of thanks.
 He knew that she had not felt the pains, for she had been praying. 


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