Christmas Letter 2010

Merry Christmas to all!
From the life and times of John and Cheryl Downing


2010 is almost over… so here is my annual Christmas letter for a merry little trip into some of the adventures of our life. I hope the outline below will make the letter a bit easier to get through. Yes, I know my previous letters had a tendency to stretch out a bit, but now I’ve broken the year into a short outline for easy reading! Can’t beat that, can you?

Have a great New Year!

John & Cheryl Downing


“Courage is the art of being the only one who knows you're scared to death.”
~Harold Wilson (1916 - 1995)


Outline

Bonnie and Clyde: Starting off the New Year 2 - 3


Home Group – Adventures with God 3


New Neighbors = New Paint and New Chores 3 - 4


3rd Annual Block Party 4


Snowboarding into nothingness! 4 - 5


Drifting in the Fog and Rain 5 - 6


Final Debt – The Axe of Atlas Falls 6 - 8


Thanksgiving Bobcat 8 - 9


Adoption Process 9


The End with New Beginnings? 9



Bonnie and Clyde: Starting off the New Year
The beginning of the year came with two visitors that arrive just as a wave of icy artic air hit the northwest. The visitors came to be known as Bonnie and Clyde – the notorious criminals, also known as Dirty Rats. Yes, two rats invaded our humble home. The first one, Bonnie found herself trapped in less than a couple hours in an undersized, every day mouse trap. The metal bar snapped closed around her neck, but she wasn’t hurt. Not at all! In fact, she just tired out trying to find a place to hide with the stockade prison shackled around her neck preventing her from squeezing into the best hiding spots. She just gave up when I found her. No attempt at negotiating her release; not a squeak, not a peep… nothing. She left immediately by way of the local garbage service.

Clyde, unfortunately decided to take up residence under our kitchen cabinets, dishwasher, and refrigerator. He could be heard chewing his way through the wall studs at all times of the day, which freaked us all out. Then one Sunday, I stood my ground in the kitchen with Cheryl and William watching from the apparent safety of the living room, which we had blocked off in preparation for the battle. The battle blasted into action once I upset his little home with a broom stick. As he blazed into motion, my barefoot lashed out, meeting Clyde’s side with a vengeance. To my surprise, he attempted a double back flip with a one-quarter rotation to land in a ninja-like battle stance! My kick, delivered with intense ferocity, threw him off balance but his exceptional combat skills brought him darting around me in a full sprint, allowing him to escape unharmed through the only hole I didn’t see during my pre-battle preparation. Disappearing into the counters again, I found my lovely wife completely traumatized by the interaction.

“You’re NOT going back to work until that thing is GONE!” Cheryl proclaimed with her index finger pointing upward. It’s good to know she chose the correct finger to display at that moment; the situation deserved another finger with a whole different meaning added to it… And I knew this had to end. At this time, Clyde had successfully trespassed for nearly a month.

That night came with a pre-bed time prayer: “God,” I asked while standing alone in the kitchen. “Deliver this rat to me… Old Testament style!” Strange to pray a prayer like that… and sincerely mean it.

4 AM the next morning (a Monday of all days), Cheryl woke up to scratching in the room next to ours. After scouting the whereabouts of my enemy among the scattered furniture and bed frames stored in the neighboring room, I retrieved my weapons of war to deal with Clyde… Old Testament style, just like I prayed for.

I closed the door behind me, and after piercing the walls with several badly aimed thrusts with a BBQ fork taped onto a broom handle, I finally trapped Clyde in a boxed area where it pleaded with me: whimpers, whines, pouting black eyes, and even bowing its head in submission. I discarded the tiny bit of empathy bubbling into my heart and regained my composure. One thrust of my BBQ fork/ spear pinned it against the wall, but the aim proved poor and Clyde remained alive, crying out in terrible pain. My contacts are not part of my battle gear, hence my poor aim. The gruesome details are inappropriate for a Christmas letter; just know the whole thing was a mess! After my alarm rang in my bedroom, I found the one thing to bring this ordeal to an end: A long metal bed frame that became the final instrument of death. While I held the beast skewered against the wall, I hammered away, pummeling it straight to rat-hell… or rat-heaven, if that makes you feel better. I cleaned up the mess, and as it sank into the garbage bag grave, I verified Clyde indeed was a male. Strangely, this intimate inquiry came at Cheryl’s request! You see, if Clyde proved to be a female, we might need to chase down a bunch of little rats…Cheryl is very wise!

Home Group – Adventures with God
Early in January, we decided that a church home group would be great to attend, but sadly our schedules were conflicting with the active home group schedules. After a short discussion with Cheryl, we agreed that if a current home group leader in Albany walked halfway across the church, stood directly in front of me and looked me in the face, then we’d consider it a clear clue to ask if we could host a group in Corvallis. The details we agreed upon were such that no coincidence could be questioned – no gray, just black or white.

Within minutes, the guy’s little girl bolted across the sanctuary to stand right at my feet! The guy ran after the little lady, scooping her up to look right into my face. “Hi!” I said to the guy. “Got a minute?”

As it turns out, not only did the guy want to start a home group in Corvallis, he wanted to transfer the leadership to the host and hostess… meaning us! Well, this wasn’t exactly what we were looking to get into, but we said “what the heck!?” After about two months, the leadership transferred to us, and we’ve been leading ever since. The amazing thing, believe it or not, is that every week before home group we ask God what HE wants to do… and He tells us! Every week is different and it has become clear that we are simply the messengers and ambassadors to those who attend. The group has become family to us, and has been with us through some of the most difficult times of the year. Keep reading for the drama!

New Neighbors = New Paint and New Chores
The attached condo/home sold this year, and is now occupied by the actual owners. This change brought up the question of the exterior color… the existing color was UGLY and Cheryl hated it! Well, after living there for four years, I got used to it and really didn’t care too much. Yes, the sea-foam green/ teal gutters and trim carried a vintage 1978 look, and it probably had not been painted since the day it was built, but who the heck wanted to paint a house!? Not this guy!

The assertive neighbors, plus my adorable wife, brought this task into my life but it became unavoidable. Any procrastinator would be proud of everything I did to petition the hiring a painting contractor rather than attempting the work ourselves. The savings-through-sweat were too great to pass up, and we ventured away from the professionals and targeted a weekend in July – the hottest weekend up to that date! Oh, did I mention I sincerely DO NOT like heights!? The two story house extended more than 20 feet above the ground, and that barely reaches the underside of the eves. Ugh! I’d rather be 20 feet down a sewer manhole! While the neighbors had three experienced assistants, we hired an Army National Guard soldier who LOVED climbing ladders in extreme heat. Cheryl ran off to teach Zumba while the soldier and I sprayed our half of the entire structure, leaving the trim for me and Cheryl. Even with the heat, my parents drove from Portland to help with the trim. The soldier came back the following Monday to do the upper trim and all the upper gutters for us and the neighbors. The guy was GOOD! He saved us time, sweat, energy, and heart complications from the heights I would have had to deal with.

The neighbors also inspired Cheryl to remove ALL the blackberries growing on the backside of the fence. She proved very aggressive and dealt a huge blow to the vines. Sadly, removing the vines illustrated one terrible fact – the vines held the fence in place! So, William helped me remove and replace several sections of fencing; some of which simply fell to pieces without even touching it. The old fence proved useful for one last purpose – FIRE! Additionally, Cheryl helped cut the deck down, leaving about ¼ of what it used to be. Currently, grass is trying to grow where the deck stood.

And as of the writing of this letter… we just finished repainting nearly the entire interior of the house!

3rd Annual Block Party
The old fence once securely held in place by blackberries burned extremely well during the block party, but using it came with an awful consequence. The smoke from the fire held something that found its way into my left eye, causing an infection to develop, complete with the gooey, yuck and nasty swelling typical to pink eye. After nearly a week of eye drops, the infection finally faded but the timeless warning remained: “Put face in smoke, get gunk in eye”

Snowboarding into nothingness!
I had the opportunity to head up to Ski Bowl on Mt. Hood for spring snowboarding in near-perfect conditions. Light, fluffy, fresh snow hit the mountain the night before with blue sky unfolding over the mountain just for me and my snowboarding buddy, Chris.

We spent several hours on the groomed slopes, dancing down medium and difficult runs (blue and black) with terrain parks woven into the fun. He asked if we could go find a gorgeous stretch of black diamond terrain that appeared untouched by those skiers who love to turn a perfectly powdered slope into a terrible, nasty chopped collection of mounds difficult for most snowboarders. Of course, I agreed to the pursuit of perfect snow, so up to the top we went.

“I think it’s this way,” he said as he cruised past a set of parallel posts missing the official signage designating the location as an actual ski area. At first, the slope proved to be absolutely wonderful! We shred through the thick, fresh snow under a brilliantly blue sky with a light breeze flowing through the trees. But our dreamy conditions faded as the trail ended in a hard-cut slab of snow resting precariously above a dense forest of dark trees. To my left, the top third of the terrifying trees shadowed an unknown drop into trapped silence where no one would ever think to look. To my right, the cut edge of the trees above appeared ready to slide at any moment. This was NOT a good place to be!

The horizontal curve around the face of the mountain proved exceedingly difficult for me. Snowboards are not really suited to go sideways without momentum, and the thick snow stole every bit of forward movement, along with every ounce of energy I could muster. Taking my board off to walk through the snow crossed my mind, but when I would use my hands to push myself across the snow, my arms would sink to the shoulder without resistance. Stepping into the fluff would have trapped me for sure, so I scooted and scooted and scooted across the snow, praying for an actual trail to open up for us.

Just when I thought I had no more energy, I encountered tops of trees stabbing up through the snow, creating sunken wells I had to drop down into and then pop out of just to keep working my way to safety. Realize that tree wells can actually be large voids beneath the layer of snow. Fortunate for me, Chris went through first! Without momentum, strength, endurance, or sweat left inside of my body, my hopes dwindled thin. I made it through the tree wells, most of the time climbing on my stomach rather than sliding on my board. After half a dozen or more tree wells, I followed Chris up a sharp slope waiting for me. To my great satisfaction, he had found a defined trail on the other side of a wide grove of large trees. The trees were spread apart enough where he danced through seemingly without effort.

As for me, I sat exhausted on the side of the mountain watching him cruise down to the trail below. Not to leave this area without some pleasant memory, I hopped into the air, kicking my board out to land on my butt 15 to 20 feet down the tree littered slope. I knew this would be the last trip of the season, and I had to redeem this trip from the misery I’d just experienced. So, I hopped and hopped and hopped my way down through the trees to find my friend laughing and shaking his head at me. I was a six year old again! Now THAT is entertainment!

As we cruised on our boards down to the well-used black diamond slope, a ski patrol medic turned in shock when he saw us emerge out of the area where we’d just come. He didn’t say anything… he didn’t need to. His expression told me everything I already knew – we had no business being in that area!

The final drop down the slope brought some fun, but it wasn’t the slope we were targeting. The untouched face remained out of our grasp as we walked back to the car completely exhausted.

Drifting in the Fog and Rain
Another friend of mine has a drift boat, and I asked if I could help him practice running a river. William, now age 14 came along due to the day being proclaimed as “Forced Family Fun Day” rather than any desire he had to be on the river.

The North Santiam River is one I know pretty well from my kayaking days, and I felt comfortable enough for an adventure in a drift boat. My friend piloted the South Santiam River several times, but the North Santiam is much more technical and difficult. At my request, we were going to launch just upstream from the Mill City falls to start the adventure off with a drop and a bang. My friend was a bit concerned about running his boat over the water fall, but I assured him that all would be well. You see, I’d been over the falls nearly a dozen times in a kayak, and had watched drift boats as they dropped over it, so what could the problem be!? Turns out the boat launches in the area had all been removed, maybe for good reasons! The only other boat launch was located up stream and guaranteed passage through areas like Carnivore, Boulder Gardens, The Swirlies, and Spencer’s Hole far before we ever reached the water fall. We agreed that those areas were far above our piloting skills and we launched downstream at a much safer place called Fisherman’s Bend. You can read about my experiences through those treacherous areas in previous Christmas letters.

At this time, I’d like to note that I had mentioned several times that I’d NEVER piloted a drift boat before, and all my skills were related to running white water – simply to have fun, not to fish or spend time in any one location. After hitting rock after rock in the low water, barely maneuvering through the twisting crazy currents, taking water over the bow several times, and even spinning completely around while running around a large boulder, we finally determined that MY concept of running a river is NOT my friend’s concept… or any other self-respecting drift boater, as it turns out. Close to the end of the trip he asked why in the world I would purposefully aim for the rollercoaster wave trains and curling white-crested waves when every other drift boater on the planet strains to avoid all of that! I understood his words, but didn’t really grasp the meaning…

Until it finally hit me that drift boating isn’t a sport to play through wonderful white water; it is a tool to work down a river to find suitable fishing spots. Huh! My bad! In my defense, I did the 360 degree spin around the monster boulder on purpose, and we avoided a potentially disastrous situation because of the maneuver. Yes, it was a scary but a very effective technique no matter what craft you’re running. Looking back upstream to peer at the massive obstacles we successfully avoided (by the skin of our teeth) brought thanksgivings like “Oh, praise Jesus!” and “Oh, dear Lord…dear Lord!”

On a positive note, my friend demonstrated skills he wouldn’t have known he possessed otherwise. Now the South Santiam River is an easy trip for him in comparison. Oh, did I mention it was POURING rain during most of the trip? And the fog was so thick at times we could barely see the rocks ahead of us? And only one other boat was seen on the river? And that we had the pleasure of getting photographed in the background of a newly married couple? Yes… overall it proved to be a great experience! One last note: I’ve not been in a boat with my friend since that trip… coincidence? Maybe so… maybe so.



Final Debt – The Axe of Atlas Falls
This year marks my first full year working for the Oregon Dept of Transportation. This also marks the year when Atlas officially died… finally. The IRS and County Tax Assessor still seem to be in denial, though. This year brought some of the most stressful times I’ve weathered with the company, and I thought I’d dealt with some pretty serious issues previously!

The story spans seven months, but I’ll try to compact the details for you. We tried to make payment arrangements with all of the vendors and debtors for the remaining balances the company owed, and for the most part the attempts were welcome and workable. Until one company, we’ll call it US Bank, refused payment arrangements and as soon as they kicked the debt to another department they threatened to take everything I owned – no questions, no mercy, no negotiating payments. You see, I’d spent months trying to work on a feasible pay-down schedule and put out a lot of effort to make sure everyone would get their money, and when US Bank dropped the axe I suddenly realized how long I’d living in the executioner’s shadow, and I just KNEW the end of our financial wellbeing neared the end. US Bank gave me two weeks to get them a HUGE amount of money or the axe would fall.

The other debtors started getting impatient as well, and I had to resign to the fact that bankruptcy and foreclosure would pour into our lives like molten lava. If you’ve read any of my other Christmas stories, especially last year, then you’ll know that God got me into the company and He got me out of the company. Yet I faced the terrifying reality that ‘getting out’ physically didn’t remove the impending doom of debt ready to break down my door and give me a good beating.

During those stressful days leading up to the expiration of all I owned, I had some pretty fierce discussions with God, most of which I apologized for eventually. I’m glad He loves me and is patient with me, because I really didn’t hold anything back. He brought me into the company and now I could only see one solution – bankruptcy. Along with bankruptcy would come the inability to adopt a child, which carved the wound deeper into the heart. Cheryl’s mom offered to help, but the idea of using a rental house to get a loan against proved impossible. The hope of navigating this disaster faded to almost nothing. Failure is rarely an option for me, but at that time I could only try to face my failure and try to remain upright and breathing until I could see light at the end of the tunnel. ‘Broken’ does not do justice to what I felt… I was crushed.

Two days before the axe fell, Cheryl’s mom had a bond mature for the EXACT amount needed to contain and clear ALL of the debt drawing us deep into the pit of despair. The not-so-nice representative with US Bank changed the payment requirement expiration without warning. It moved from 1pm to 11am as Cheryl’s mom raced toward the goal to make the payment on our behalf. The payment successfully transferred with less than 37 minutes to spare! Nearly all of the debtors were paid in less than a couple days, and the world suddenly looked like a different place.

The light began to reemerge into my life, and as I drove to work the next day, I gasped at the most amazing sight I’d seen in a very long time: A sunrise JUST FOR ME! Brilliant orange streams of sunlight blazing over the mountains spread into a perfect fan displayed like nothing I’ve ever seen. Absolutely amazing! Cruise control and a camera phone helped save the image for the rest of my life.

That day, July 30th, 2010 began a new season for us. I felt like a man set free from the gallows! Now we’re making payments to Cheryl’s mom with interest close to what she would have gotten from investing it. She is amazing to help us out! And God is amazing to have delivered us through this entire thing, and holding executioner’s axe at bay! God ROCKS!


Thanksgiving Bobcat
We had the pleasure of spending Thanksgiving week in Costa Mesa, California with Cheryl’s brother and his family. I found time to play in the calm surf in Newport Beach, but the surf was pretty tame and aside from another guy who dipped into the water for less than 30 seconds, I swam alone. Cheryl sat on the beach while I played for a while in the 55 degree water. The locals thought sunny and 60-ish degrees to be so frigid that parkas, mittens, hats, scarves, and fluffy boots were required! Everything was the most current designer fashions, of course.

On Thanksgiving Day, we walked along a path beside a wild life reservation known as The Back Bay. The warm sun and cool breeze was delicious! As we walked along, I pointed out a large dark shape that darted through the bush ahead of us, but a ways off the trail. I told Cheryl that I thought it was a coyote… and she froze in her tracks! I tried coxing her forward, and she actually moved up with trail with me for a short bit until an oversized house cat jumped playfully onto the trail ahead of us. The tips of its ears had the thin wisps of hair typical to wild cats, but we weren’t sure what it was exactly.

Cheryl’s tight grip, coupled with the fact her nails are long & strong, helped convince me to turn back down the trail and leave the wildlife alone. Once she started breathing again, she explained that the only place for coyotes and wild cats are in cartoons like Madagascar and the Jungle Book. A County employee working on that day told us that the cat was actually one of three kittens belonging to a much larger Bobcat named Babe. Babe, a local celebrity of sorts, made the papers several times because she liked to walk down the center of crowded boardwalks or simply sunbathe on the side of a busy walking trail. My question is this: where is the male bobcat!?

Adoption Process
Most people know we have worked through the many hoops to get qualified to adopt through the State Foster Care System. We were selected with one other family to adopt a 3 year old little girl, but the State chose the other family before we could really get our hopes up.

About a month later, we were selected to be considered to adopt twins (1 ½ year old boy & girl) but again we were not selected. We actually had some hopes building for the twins, and we did grieve a bit after the notice, but we’re continually putting our hand in the air for other kids, so we’re confident that next year’s Christmas letter will hold another grand adventure on the road of life!

The End with New Beginnings?
I wanted to finish this Christmas letter with an announcement introducing a new job I’m in the running for… but process in the government doesn’t move that fast, as the final round of interviews were on the 21st of December and it’s the season to disappear and go be jolly… just not at work. So, the year ends with a huge question waiting until the new year – will I break into management with the State of Oregon Dept of Transportation or sit quietly in a local district office in Eugene/ Springfield? The end of one invites the start of another… a year, a job, a way of life… stand by for change, again!

We have high hopes for the year to come. Cheryl’s aerobic classes are getting bigger every session and she simply just loves all of her ladies attending the classes. I’m busy trying to land a management position within the Department of Transportation and have some important applications in process waiting to hear from the hiring managers. I have a book I’ve been working on I hope to have published, and a unique creation I hope to begin to market soon. I think 2011 is going to be a great year in many different ways!

Merry Christmas to all, and to all a Happy New Year!

Lost Souls II: The Testament of William

Lost Souls II
The Testament of William



Where lights draw thin
And shadows dim
Beyond the chill of space
A soldier born
Where time is torn
To meet deaths darkened face



To William
Love Dad
April 29, 2005

First Light

“I think he’s been here before.”

He couldn’t remember where or why those words were spoken, or why they were so deeply engraved in his mind, but they were. He found them echoing through his dreams, and his nightmares. A strange source of comfort those words came to be. A sense of something more than what he could see or feel. And he knew these words were true...somehow.

He watched the dawn creep through the curtains, just like every morning, but today would be different. Today there was something to fear; the darkness that would bear unyielding evil. Not like before. Not like what his brother faced last year. Something worse. Something intent on destruction beyond anything ever imagined. Not only lives would be lost, but the very souls of every person on the planet as well.

He had seen it for over a month now. Small glimpses in his dreams. The face that emerged through the shadows; a face he recognized...from somewhere. The image echoed through his mind. So familiar, so repulsive in its smooth features; almost human. The morning light was the one thing that gave relief from the nightmares that broke into his mind. The morning light that he'd wait for while his body stopped trembling.

"Will," his mom called through the door. "Time to get up." He heard the tiredness within her voice.

Here it goes. The day begins just like any other. He could feel the fear mounting in his chest. Several deep breaths helped pull him from beneath the warmth of his blankets.

A bird began chirping wildly in the old tree outside his window. Suddenly, another bird joined the chaotic chorus, joined by another and another. Curiosity flooded through him, driving him to pull the shades back to investigate the commotion.

The image that he beheld grasped at him from the nightmares that wracked his sleep. An incredible flock of birds swarmed violently in the twisted branches. Their black wings beat the air in mass; their calls screeching toward his window. Toward him. Each of their glistening eyes drawn upon his.

More birds flooded into the tree, coming from all directions. The morning light shadowed by the mounting fury. Without warning, one bird flew into the window pane. Its body fell limp upon impact, dropping from view. A small sliver of a crack was apparent in the glass.

Drawing back from the window, he felt the horror of this image as de ja vu. He had seen this before... somewhere.

"Mom!" He called, backing into the door just as it was thrust open. He felt the back of his head flare with blinding pain. The room spun as his eyes fell to blackness, his body dropping to the carpet. The birds falling silent as they too fled from his sight.

"William," the voice spoke softly into his ear. A man's voice. Not his dad, someone else. "William, do you know where you are?"

He pulled his eyes open slowly. Beside him was an older man, tanned skin, dark eyes. His silver hair looked fake against his dark features. He wore a slight grin, almost in concealed amusement. A stethoscope draped across his brown leather jacket. This man he had seen as well. Again, his memory failed to make a connection.

Looking around, he recognized the room as a doctor’s examination room. The room where they give shots and tell you it's for your own good. The room he came to hate.

"Yeah," he mumbled. "My head hurts."

"You got clobbered pretty good," the doctor said. "You've been out for quite a while." He helped him sit up on the bed. "I'm Doctor James."

Doctor James...He'd never seen this doctor before. Not as a doctor at least. The name just didn't fit with the face. Something was out of place, he was certain.

William peered into the man’s eyes, searching for a clue; a memory connection. His head ached, dizziness threatened his balance, but he held himself upright before the man.

"Doctor," William began. "What time is it? I still have to go to school today."

"Oh, no you don't," Dr. James chuckled, sliding the little chair silently across the tiled floor. "The day is about over for those of us who didn't sleep through most of it." He raised an eyebrow behind a curious stare that held more than what was shared. "You're going to have a rough night, now that you're awake."

"You mean the day is over?" William guessed. How could that be? This was the day I've seen coming in my dreams, and it wasn't like this. Something's wrong.

"Oh yes, the day is over indeed little soldier. You've worried people sick. Your mom is home waiting for you. She should have your prescriptions all ready. Your Dad came up from Corvallis as soon as he heard. He'll take you home shortly."

"Dad's here?"

"He's here alright. Like I said, you've worried people sick with that nasty lump of yours."

"What about the birds?" He realized after he asked the question that he should have stayed his tongue.

"Birds?" Doctor James smirked. "I didn't see any birds flying around your head. That's just in the cartoons."

"Oh," he cut topic short.

"What birds would you be talking about, William?" The doctor pressed.

"Nothing." He tried to draw a smile to his lips.

"Black ones?"

A gasp pulled through his lips before he could stop. How did he know? Did I talk while I was out?

The doctor held the question in his gaze, allowing the silence to work against his patient.

William shrugged, eyes unwavering from the doctors.

"I see," Doctor James broke the quiet. Again, that awful grin appeared on his face, but the eyes did not even attempt to share the humor. "There are many things that are known, and many things that are unknown, William Michael. The unknown is where fear resides." The grin dropped instantly from his face, leaving bitter seriousness. "This is where you must dwell... for it is your time." A slow sigh hissed through his nose. "Remember this William Michael, you are not alone."

Two knocks erupted through the room. The door swept open suddenly; a nurse stepping in.

"William," she said abruptly. "Your father is here to take you home."

He felt the firm hand of Doctor James drop onto his shoulder, giving a single squeeze before leaving the room without another word.

THE FALL OF MAN

"Dad," William started as they drove through the faltering daylight. "I'm scared."

"Hey, buddy. The doctor said you'll be fine. You just need some time to recoup, that's all."

He wanted to spill out his fear, but speaking them aloud suddenly seemed insane. What would he say? Where would he start? It all seemed to be a bad dream anyway. Maybe he was losing his mind.

"Yeah," he let his voice fade into the music. Evanescence. Does he always listen to Evanescence? He could hear the soft humming coming from his dad. He could tell that the song was well known, although a bit off-key.


The pain throbbed dully in the back of his head. He could feel his heart beating against his chest. Hard thumps caused his whole head to ache with every beat. He felt the cool glass against his forehead, and was grateful for a moment of relief.

His wandering thoughts brought back the nightmares... visions... that persisted to invade his nights. The evening crept ever closer as the vehicle droned on. He rested his eyes knowing what might be waiting for him behind closed lids, hoping for peace.

A flash of pain jolted him upright; the seatbelt catching him across his chest. His eyes burned from the pain that flared from behind them. Fire, he gasped, pressing his hands against his temples, pushing the pain away.

“Ohhh,” he groaned leaning against the chilled window again.

“Hey buddy,” his dad said in the distance. “You okay there, big guy?” The voice seemed so distant, so far out of reach.

He could feel the car lurch to the side and come to a firm stop. A large hand pressed against his forehead. Too warm. He tried to pull away. Something in his mind, not his brain, not his head, but his mind; thoughts. Not his thoughts. Someone else’s, were pressing into his own.

He pressed against his temples even harder, but it didn’t stop the assault against his mind. Flashes of silver, electrifying. An image echoed with each. A face from the depths of his memory: familiar yet unknown.

William, a voice slipped into his thoughts. Suddenly, the pain surged unbearably, and then faded quickly to nothingness, leaving his mind free of all but a single image.

Through the peaceful darkness, he saw an outline of what appeared to be a large tree. The vision was obscure of details, but two forms stood beneath the canopy. He felt a sudden urge to yell to the figures. Something was wrong; they were wrong. Somehow he knew the figures were in danger, although he could not tell why. One of the forms reached into the canopy, drawing something from the tree, then handed the object to the other form. Fear flooded through his mind at what he was witnessing. No! He screamed in his mind.

Without warning, a blinding light flooded his vision, drawing the images in to nothingness. In the distance he could hear weeping; a man and a woman. Terrible sadness.

“….no, we’re stopped on the freeway.” The voice of his dad grew louder and nearer. He could feel the concern in his voice to whomever he was talking to. Probably mom. “You know I will,” his dad continued. “He’s coming out of it now. I’ll call you back.”

He turned his head against the glass to look at his dad. The thumping pressure in the back of his head seemed less now, although he could still feel the beat of his heart against the wound. "What?" he murmured.

"What happened?" His dad started. "Are you alright?"

"I think so." He felt a little dizzy, but strangely energized. "Yeah, I'm great."

"You sure? You were out for a second."

"Yep, the doctor said this might happen," he lied. He could feel his arms tremble slightly, glad that his dad didn't notice.

"Alright, let's get you home."

The car surged forward, picking up speed as they rejoined the flow of traffic.

"Dad?" Will asked. "What are you afraid of?"

His dad cast him a curious sideways look, pausing for a moment before answering. "Well, I'm afraid of a lot of things." A simple and vague statement.

"Are you afraid of things you can't see?"

"Things I can't see?" The strange question caught him off guard.

"Yeah, things that are evil."

"I suppose I am. What evil things are you talking about?"

"Oh, just some strange thoughts I've had." He wanted to tell what he had seen. Was Dad able to take it seriously? Maybe. "I... I'm scared." He hesitated with the words hanging on his lips.

“Hey buddy, it’s alright to be scared. It’s part of being human.” His dad ended with a heavy pat on the leg.

Part of being human… that was true, he supposed. Yet what he feared wasn’t human at all. It is the thing that should not be.

The final streaks of daylight faded quickly in the distance as they moved along through traffic. The hundreds of white lights, beady and bright from the on-coming traffic stung his eyes. Their silver specks moved in an unending flood, bringing back memories of the thing that tried to take his brother. He was proud of John, how brave he was. How he overcame such terrible fear to destroy the demon… with a little help, yes. But other than the seed, John was victorious on his own.

He remembered the seed and smiled to himself. John did use it well. Yes indeed. John had tried several times to get him to talk about that night, as if it would verify his sanity or something. No. He decided even before his brother was victorious to not speak of it, especially how he became involved. No. That would need to remain a mystery. At least for now, and maybe forever. So many lives were saved. So many souls were found and set free. Beautifully done, brother.

Somehow he felt that was his role in this life; to help find and free lost souls.


THE ARRIVAL

The winding road stirred him from his memory. Almost home, he realized. The trees lining the streets were dark silhouettes against the dully moonlit sky. The stars seemed to become more brilliant against the darkened trees as the minutes moved forward.

The shadowed trees scared him tonight. The darkness scared him. He turned once again to his dad, and reached out and grabbed his hand. “Dad, I’ll be okay…won’t I?” He felt a ball form in his throat and choked it back. He felt a large, gentle squeeze come from his dad.

“I believe you’ll make it through just fine.”

“I hope so…” his words trailed off as they pulled into the driveway. He could see the window blinds part with a golden glow before the front door opened. His mom stepped out, wrapped in a long housecoat, waiting to smother him with concern. Before he opened his door, he pulled his dad’s hand close to his chest. “Be careful tonight, ok?”

“You know I will,” he replied. “Let’s get you inside so your mom can take care of you, okay?”

A simple nod and he pushed his door open. The cold air pressed instantly against his skin, causing a quick shiver to flood down his back. His dad walked around and dropped a large hand over his shoulder. Together they walked to the front porch.

A quick movement in the night sky caught his attention. He had never seen bats around here, nor had he heard owls, but something definitely moved. And not too far from where they were.

“You had me so worried!” His mom complained as she drew him in to a deep hug. He hugged her back and even gave a small pat on her shoulder to help her feel better.

“I’m okay, mom.” He tried to sound convincing.

Another movement caught his eye. This time it dropped down from a tree and disappeared behind his dad’s car.

“What was that?” He asked, pointing.

“That would be my car,” his dad said. “You really did bump your head, didn’t you?”

“No! Really! Something is by your car,” He could hear the panic drive through his voice. “It dropped from the tree over there.”

“I’m sure it’s nothing,” his mom replied. “Probably just a cat.”

He felt her gentle push toward the front door.

“Okay big guy,” his dad said. “I’m heading out. Have a great night and try to get some sleep, okay? I’ll call tomorrow to see how you’re doing.”

Before he could turn back, his dad had stepped off the porch and moved around to the dark side of the car. “Wait!” he called, but the front door closed with a heavy latch. He listened for a moment, hoping to hear the engine, but heard nothing.


DARK DREAMS

“Where’s John?” Will asked before taking a step.

“He’s already in bed,” his mom answered. “Come on, let’s get you laid down. You can read for a while before you get some sleep.” She disappeared around the corner as she spoke.

“I’m not tired, mom. Can’t I watch TV?” He anticipated the answer and dropped his knees onto the couch to look out the window. He still hadn’t heard his dad’s car or noticed lights passing across the blinds.

“Okay, for a little while, but not too long.” She gave in as she brought his favorite blanket from the back room. “Go ahead and lay down, then.”

He reached out to open the blinds, but he was pulled onto his back against the soft pillows. The blanket was draped across him. He was already starting to feel better.

“Mom?” He asked. “Has dad left yet?”

“Oh, I’m sure he’s already gone,” she said. “Don’t worry about him. He’s fine. You need to worry about yourself, so get some rest, okay?”

“Can you check?”

“No, I’m not checking.” She stated flatly. Her gaze came flat as well.

“But…”

“No ‘buts’ mister,” she turned quickly away. “What did you want to watch?”

“Nothing.” He matched her flat tone.

She turned and dropped the remote onto his lap. “You can watch whatever you want, but you need to be responsible, right?” Her eyes were drained suddenly. “I need to get some sleep. Come wake me if you need me.” Without another word, she left.

He probably did leave. I just didn’t hear him. He convinced himself. Sitting in the quiet void of the living room, he simply stared at the controller on his lap. In the distance, he could hear the heavy breaths coming from his brother’s room. He envied the deep sleep his mom and brother were getting, feeling boredom creep into his chest. It’s going to be a long night, he admitted.

Suddenly, a cry erupted from his brother’s room. Terrible fear echoed through the painful cry into the dark hallway. The house fell deadly quiet, until another agonizing cry pierced the silence.

Will waited, blanket drawn tight, for his mom to investigate the cry of his brother. Minutes passed before the cry came again, yet his mom’s door remained closed.

Unable to sit idle, he pulled the warm blanket away and moved quickly down the hall. His brother’s door was closed, along with his mom’s. Another cry erupted through the door.

Turning the door knob, he leaned against the cold wood, but found it unmoving and solid, as if nailed shut. He pounded his fist against the wood, pain flooding through his arm with each hit. He moved to his mom’s door only to find the same. He could feel the panic begin to overwhelm his senses.

I'm alone.

Moving back into the living room, he caught the clock by the TV. 10:43 PM. He stood silent, listening for any movement in the house. His brother's nightmarish screams had stopped, for better or for worse, he didn’t know. There was no breathing, no stirring, to be heard...just silence, dead and cold.

SHADOWED FACES

As he stood in the silence, he felt the air turn to ice against his skin. His breath became plumes of steam before him.

Jeans and a T-shirt did little to prevent the cold from reaching his bones. Goose bumps and tremors coursed through his limbs. Returning to the living room, he draped his favorite blanket over his shoulders, fighting the mounting fear. The warmth provided little comfort for what he knew was inevitable.

I wish I wasn't alone

To his left the lamp resting beside the sofa began to surge. Its brightness diminished to nothing, only to flare suddenly as if on fire. He stepped away from the lamp, expecting it to burst into a violent display of glass shards, realizing then that the lights in the dining room, kitchen and hallway were extinguished completely. After several surges of light from the lamp, the bulb burned steady and low, sending crimson shadows throughout the room. He closed his eyes to the world that changed around him.

Why me? He questioned the darkness of his mind. Every part of his being called for him to run... somewhere. To hide, to bury himself deep away from this darkness that pressed upon him; into him.

Not alone.

Not audible. A thought. Not his own.

He felt his fears fade from his chest, as an aura of warmth radiated from above his head down to his shoulders. For a few moments the warmth persisted, only to fade to coldness, leaving him alone again.

In the center of the living room, a burst of flames erupted as a bright ball of in front of him. A deafening roar filled his ears, with terrible cries blended to make a chorus of pain. Startled, he dropped to the floor. Pulling the blanket over his head, he shielded himself from the intense heat, crawling across the carpeted floor to find safety behind the sofa.

Through the intensity of the screams, a deep voice resonated. A chant began to replace the cries, both surging with a slow motion. The heat surged in unison with the chant. The words indistinguishable.

Collectively, the voice and chanting blended together and slowly faded to a steady thrum behind the roar of the fire.

Releasing his hands from his ears, he pulled himself up to the edge of the sofa's arm.

The center of the room held a ball of flame suspended above the floor. The heat was bearable, and the room appeared to be safe from immediate harm.

Within the swirling chaos of flame, faces appeared and faded. Silent screams gnarled each of the faces. Men, women, and children, different races, shapes... each pressed their faces forward calling to him in their silent misery.

He stared in wonder as hundreds of faces passed before him. His heart sank for each life that was held captive in the ball of flame, and he fought the urge to jump toward the fire, to pull those souls to safety.

Suddenly, in a violent thrust, the surge of faces was swept aside, leaving the churning ball of flame vacant of any sign of life, swirling wildly.
Following his urge to reach toward those within the flame, he stepped out from behind the sofa and inched toward the fire. He peered into the blaze, searching for the faces that were swept away.

Suddenly, a dark figure darted across the wave of flames. Its size was distorted, but small, as if being seen in the distance. The shape looked familiar, similar to the figure that dropped by his dad’s car. Was it the same figure? He couldn’t tell.

The figure darted back across his vision, this time larger. It moved toward him at strange angles, growing larger, but still obscure of detail. He could see silver eyes pressing upon him as it neared, evil emanating from its stare. It looked like a silhouette of a slender man, long arms and legs, thin chest, but as it came closer, he could distinguish dark wings tucked behind the shoulders and sharp stubs protruding from the crown of the head. A demon, he realized in a wave of panic that caused him to stumble backward, landing on his outstretched hands.

“Mom!” he screamed. As the cry left his mouth, he knew it was without hope. His mom and his brother were locked in their rooms.

The demon stood still with its torso filling the flaming ball, as if it were a window to peer through. Now within five feet of where he lay, specific details could not be distinguished. The darkness that hid the creature seemed to come from within its own body. The eyes, he tried to avoid, but couldn’t. The silvery gaze locked him in terror that chilled his very core.

“The last,” the demon said. The strange words came as a low growl, not a language he’d heard before, but understood nonetheless.

He fought a sudden wave of sleepiness and exhaustion that assaulted his mind and body. After a moment, he stood upright, defiant against the demon.

“Give them to me,” Will demanded. The confidence in his words startled him. He knew what he wanted, the captured souls that called to him with their silent screams.

“A boy,” it said slowly. “Just a boy. Give yourself to me.”

He again fought off a wave that threatened to draw him to sleep. It was easier this time. Much easier.

The silver flames for eyes appeared to squint, peering with mild interest. “Curious,” it growled.

“You can’t have them,” his voice steady with confidence, in spite of what he was witnessing. “Let them go.”

A strange guttural of amusement came mocking his words. The flames surrounding the creature swelled and swirled violently. “Oh, child, you are a mystery. Even to me.”

In a flash of movement, the demon reached through the window of flame. And with a clawed hand blanketed in shadow, it grasped Will by the throat. The hand was like a block of heavy ice as it pressed against his flesh. He could feel his airway compress, smothering his gasp of fear and pain that tried to escape his lips.

Drawing his hands against the solid ice-like arm, he tried to pull himself free. But beneath his struggling fingers, the arm began to change. The cold shadowy arm turned visible where he touched it. The terrible cold became less painful to the touch, and he could feel soft muscles reluctantly releasing their grip on his throat.

Seeing the change, he clenched his hands even harder, not willing to release his grip with the changes that moved through the demons arm. He felt the hand open completely, and his airway returned. He could feel anger mixed with fear coming from the shadowed form, and then the arm was torn from his grasp, leaving him standing once again defiant.

“What is this that you are?” It growled. “Your child form is not true.”

Will didn’t have an answer. He guessed that there was something he was suppose to do… but what? His thoughts went again to those countless faces that screamed out to him. Suddenly, a wave of decisions cast through him. Almost without thought, without time to question his choices, he launched his body into the flaming sphere, grasping the demon with both arms around its thin chest. The cold form sent agonizing pain searing through his skin, but he held tight as the thing launched backward, diving into the swirling mass of flames that lashed out against his body.

Darkness engulfed him as the two hurdled into nothingness. He closed his eyes tight, listening to the dark howls of pain coming from the demon. The hardened body began to change as they fell together. Soon he could hear distant wailing of the multitude imprisoned within the darkness. He felt the body of the creature fighting wildly against him. The quickened beat of the wings thrashed the air around them both causing them to twist together in great somersaults. He opened his eyes and nearly released his grip at what he came to see.

The demon screamed as the two plummeted toward an enormous black pillar protruding out of an island surrounded by a great lake of fire. The island sat barren of life, with jets of rock thrusting in all directions like swords waiting for victims to fall from the heavens. As they tumbled toward the island, toward their death, he could see ghostly figures lining the distant shoreline.

The multitude that wails. He realized.

With a sudden surge of strength, he was pushed away from the demon, free falling toward the disfigured earth below. He watched as the demon took flight, leaving him to face imminent impalement and death. The evil laugh was mocking him again.

Closing his eyes again, his mind scrambled for an answer to what he was experiencing. This had to be a dream, but yet it was all too real. The fire, the pain, the laughing...

Suddenly, he realized that he knew what to do. With only seconds remaining, he thrust his arms open wide with his palms flat against the rush of air. His body slowed its decent with stunning agility, landing securely on his feet as if a weightless bird.

The laughing above him came to a sudden halt, replaced by a low growl that echoed across the dancing flames surrounding the island.

Looking at the winged shape soaring above him, he realized that the sky was filled with churning smoke as if it too were on fire. The light that filled his vision came from the lake of fire, casting crimson shadows across the jagged rocks amidst which he'd landed. The pillar, rough with its black pitted walls, rose above him like a monument he'd seen pictures of in books. There was no entrance, no windows, no markings to be seen. Just the flickering lights dancing between the thousands of crevices.

The demon's flight swept swiftly toward him. The torso and right arm were visible, red like blood, while the rest of the shape hid behind shadow. The penetrating silver eyes blazed as the thing descended toward him.

VALLEY OF SHADOW AND DEATH

Through the chaotic maze of sharpened stone, he wove his way toward the pillar, hoping for refuge in this horrible place of nightmares. The wings of his attacker beat the air above him, apparently unwilling to risk coming too close to the protruding rocks. To his left, a tight path came into view, circling toward the unseen side of the pillar. With his legs drained of strength, he came to a stop beneath a length of stone shielding him overhead. Gasping for the stale air around him, he could taste the bitterness of sulfur and smoke.

The demon’s wings could no longer be heard above him, and for the moment he rested in the strange shadows. He could feel his heart pounding beneath his chest, and the skin on his arms and face that touched the terrible skin of the demon. The back of his head ached, verifying that this was very real; not the dream he hoped it was. His fingers brushed the wound lightly, remembering the morning, remembering how scared he had been of the birds outside his window. He shook his head at the thought. Birds were a treat compared to this.

Pulling his legs against his chest, he buried his head into his knees. A wave of sadness chocked at his throat. Thin tears glazed his eyes.

“This can’t be happening,” he whispered through clenched teeth. The bursts of bravery…or foolishness surprised and shocked him. Now he wished he had simply given into the sleep he fought off. To give in and follow the others… it would have been easier. Now he was alone, hurting, and sapped of his strength and will. Even the demon had left him alone.

The world had no sense of day or night, no sun to give reason to the passing of time. Beneath the stone, he waited and waited. Before long the strange place and strange events could only be accepted as fact, and no amount of wishing could change that. Soon, he was bored.

In the distance he could hear the strange cries across the great lake. Steady and unceasing. Great sadness drenched in their mourning. Thousands upon thousands of souls, he guessed. Stolen.

The last, the demon had said. What did he mean? Frustrated, he pulled himself up and peered into the darkened sky. He found the pillar again and followed the path that encircled it. Slowly he made his way across the rough ground, cautiously reserving his strength.

The path opened before the great black pillar that stretched above him. A sharp edge dropped away to his left, drawing his eyes across a deep valley filled with moving shadows, as if alive and aware of his presence. Approaching the edge, he could feel fear flowing from the darkness below. Hopelessness. Despair. Death.

He knew that those that dwelt beneath him could not be saved. That they waited for the final death. The death of their very souls. And without looking upon the valley again, he turned away. The pillar awaited him.

GOLGOTHA

Above him, perched atop the pillar more than ten times his height, the shadowed wings of the demon stretched slowly to display their full expanse. It squatted confidently, as if this place were its kingdom, and the pillar its throne.

“Welcome, strange one,” it growled down to him. “Tell me…what am I to call you?”

Hesitant to answer, Will simply stood expecting the beast to swoop down without warning. He looked back to the apparent safety of the trail. He didn’t think he could reach it if he needed to.

He looked up again. “I’m Will,” he said slowly.

The silence between them was splintered by the persistent wails in the distance. Presently the creature spoke. “Will….” He drew out the name. “Why are you different, Will? Why do you prevent me from what taking what is mine?”

“What is yours!?” Will shot back. “That doesn’t make sense.”

“I speak correctly, Will. The world has been promised to me, as were those in it.”

“Well, you can’t have any of it.” Will stood defiant once again.

“No?” it mused. “I’ve taken every soul from the world and brought them to this place…” an arm arched with the horizon. “…this place of pain and suffering. My Golgotha. It is absent of what you have…and what I want. Life.”

Was that sadness in the gravely tone?

“Why can’t you have life? I don’t understand?” Will pressed.

“This is my world, my kingdom, my eternity. I can bear this no longer, and I will have what is rightfully mine.” The wings began sweeping the air angrily. “I am tired of seeing your kind waste the world as if it would never fade away. I will create my own world. A world as it was meant to be… without humans.”

“Without humans? Who would take care of the world then?”

“Oh, Will,” it chuckled darkly. “I have legions upon legions waiting to be freed to claim the shells of those bodies left behind. Yet you will not depart from your body, and our great plans are delayed… for the moment.”

“I think I’ll stay with my body, thank you,” he enjoyed the sarcasm.

Suddenly, the demon flared his wings and dropped down from his perch with a roar, its silver eyes again ablaze with fury. Running with all his strength, Will rushed for the path.

As the distance to safety closed, he sensed that the demon was already upon him. Realizing that the race was not to be won, he turned to his right and dropped to the ground in a violent roll ending with his face toward the sky.

Beside him he heard a heavy thud followed by a blood curdling cry of anger and pain. With great effort, he pulled himself to his feet and ran into the safe confines of the jagged protrusions where the path cut its way around the pillar.

Stopping only a few paces into the path, he turned to view his attacker. The demon still remained in a wrecked ball on the worn ground. The torso and arm that were no longer protected by the darkness appeared to be bleeding thin sheets of silver liquid. The blood smoked as it touched the blackened ground beneath it.

Will stood in silent amazement at the sight of his fallen enemy. He fought the unreasonable urge to help the creature, to help it find the life it sought, to mend its wounds.

Above them, at the edge of the churning clouds, a mass of darkness formed, stretching from the distant horizon reaching toward the island.

He saw that the demon caught site of the enormous wave of souls flooding toward them, as it struggled to its feet. Silver blood continued to flow from its visible wounds. Turning, it stood facing the souls.

With a scream, its arms thrust forward and over its head. A shockwave shook the air around them, sending a great force into the sky causing the approaching army to scatter into thin pockets of dark clouds, most turning away from the island.

With a burst of courage, Will ran toward the demons back, jumping with a great cry of battle onto the ice cold body. He held his legs tight around the startled frame, and clawed his fingers around its throat. The wings beat wildly as he fought to keep his hold while the demons terrible claws cut into his arm. The cry of pain that erupted from the creature tortured his ears as the two lifted off the ground.

Below him, he could see the island begin to take shape; the pillar standing guard over the dark valley of shadow and death. The great lake of fire spanning to distance shores where a sudden flood of souls rushed toward them.

“NO!” The demon cried. “You’ll not take this from me! It is mine! It is mine!”

What have I done? I’m not going to make it… this will be the end…for us both. Determined to fight to the end, he pulled himself to the shoulders and curled the fingers of his left hand into the empty eye socket and pushed with all his might. Cold silver liquid quickly covered his hand and arm, falling in large droplets to the island below. The cries of pain intensified, blurring his vision, sending waves of pain into his head.

With a sudden sweep, the demon spun them into a free fall toward the island. The great multitude of souls were near enough now to see the faces of those closest, their ghostly shapes reaching toward them both. The cries of misery worn on the faces he had seen earlier were now replaced with determined eyes and clenched jaw lines.

The ground raced toward them both, and Will knew that the damage done by his touch secured their deaths upon impact. The jagged blades of rocks seemed to reach toward them to hasten the act. As they dropped from the sky, he realized that all was silent except for the wind rushing by his ears. He could feel the warmth taking over the icy body he clung to. The strange figure had become visible beneath him, and it no longer fought against him. It willingly fell to the death that awaited it. It knew it was defeated.

Suddenly, the swarm of souls filled the air, spinning them with such force; he was pulled away from the demon. The silver drenched face took form before his eyes, with a slender nose and mouth, as if carved from a great and beautiful stone of white and gray. The eye that remained held his gaze with its silver flame nearly extinguished, replaced with a fading blue light.

The bodiless figures around him lowered him to the island gently, leaving him in the open area near the pillar. They drew away from him, joining a huge mass circling above him. At the edge that dropped down to the dark valley below, rested the demon, the last of its life blood filling the air with its silvery steam as it fell to the ground in droplets.

“You need to let them go back now,” Will stated confidently. He drew his bleeding arm close. The sliver blood of the demon still clung to his skin as if a trophy from the kill.

The demon looked wearily at Will, nodding in agreement. “You… must… take them.” It gasped.

“Me? I don’t know how.”

A strange smile creased the stone like face. “You do. You just need to remember.”

Remember?

“You are here to set them free,” it said. “That is what is written.”

A cough of silver blood spattered upon the ground. It gasped in pain.

“Written?” Will asked. “Written where?”

“You do not know,” it said. “It is not written for you.” It drew a grated breath before continuing. “My time is not now… this I see. The written word speaks truth, and your coming was foretold, I…I…did not believe.”

“How do I leave this place?” Will asked. “How do I set them free?”

“William… beyond your years, yet you do not understand.” He shook his head slowly. “I will not tell you, nor show you the way. You are alone.”

“No, I’m not alone,” he said, looking up.

“They cannot help you,” it replied, that same dark laugh coming weakly.

“Not them,” Will said. With a thrust of his hands toward the sky, stretched out with the palms reaching up, he closed his eyes for a moment.

May the door be opened and the way is shown. Let there be a light upon their path to guide their return.

Suddenly, the dark cloudy sky parted in a great expanse that reached the horizons to his right and left. The light flooding through the opening blinded him for a moment, but brought no pain. He felt overwhelmed with peace and renewed energy as the light drenched over him.

Shielding his eyes, he could see the flood of souls moving into the light, disappearing from his sight completely. Within moments, the sky was clear of movement, and the awesome light diminished along with the expanse until it was no more. Only the churning dark clouds remained.

"You can have life, you know," Will said as he lowered his arms, satisfied deep within his own soul. His head, his arm, both still hurt but he found them easily ignored.

"You are a fool," it stated. "You know nothing.

"I know where life can be found... you simply need to ask."

Anger crossed the stone like face. It clawed the ground pulling itself toward him. "I'll ask for nothing!"

Will shook his head at the defeated creature before him. "Then you're on your own."

It lashed a bleeding arm out toward him and fell exhausted, breathing deep, trembling breaths.

"You won't die. It's not your time." Will stated sadly. "But your time will come, and here," he waved an arm across the lake of fire. "is where you shall meet your end."

Without looking upon the demon again, Will walked to the pillar and pressed both hands upon the stone surface. With a small thought, he caused a silver circle to form. Through the circle he could see the front porch of his house waiting in the rising sun.

Carefully, he stepped through the wall and onto the dew drenched grass. The cold air felt good against his cheeks. The morning birds cheered his arrival above him. He paused for a moment, enjoying the golden sky above him, gently turning blue on the horizon.

In an instant, he felt a rough hand clench his shirt, pulling him back toward the fading hole. Stumbling back, he willed the hole to close, and with a heavy thud, the hand the clenched his shirt dropped to the ground, silver blood burning into thin wisps by the rising sun, and before his eyes, the appendage flashed suddenly into a small ball of flames leaving only a small blackened patch of grass.

His heat beat wildly in his chest as he regained his balance. He could feel the peace and strength that had filled him dissipate with each heart beat, leaving him exhausted with the pains of his injuries making themselves known again.

"Will," he heard from his right.

Turning, he found his dad lifting himself at the front of the car in the driveway. Obviously drained of strength as well, he looked like he hadn't slept for days.

"Dad?" Will met him with a hug. "I'm so glad to see you!"

"Yeah, you to, buddy," he groaned. "What happened to your arm!?"

"Oh, uh...I got scratched."

"You look like you been beat to a pulp. Let's get you inside."

As they reached the front porch the door opened, his mom rushed out and swept him off his feet into a great embrace.

"Ugh!" he groaned as his worn body suffered from her joy. "Mom, that kind of hurts."

Setting him down, she wiped the grey soot from his cheeks.

"He should get back to the doctor to get his arm looked at," his dad suggested.

"Good grief! What did you do?" she asked.

Before he could answer, his brother wandered weakly onto the porch. "You guys are way too loud. Can't a kid get some sleep around here?" He complained. "Dad, what are you doing here?"

"I don't have a clue," he replied. "I think I passed out by my car. Maybe I need to go to the doctor too."

"I'm going to see if urgent care can see him," his mom said. She disappeared into the house. After a few moments she returned. "They can see him in about an hour, but something is a little odd."

She paused, apparently deep in thought. "He was seen last night by a Doctor James, right?"

"Yeah, that's right. Tall guy, leather jacket, earring."

"The receptionist said that he was seen by a nurse practitioner, not a doctor," she explained. "And that Doctor James died almost a year ago. In fact, she was mad that I even brought his name up. She thought I was being mean. She said that Doctor James was like an angel, and should be respected."

William looked at the faces of those around him and smiled. Without another word, he went inside and dropped onto the couch, his favorite blanket pulled tight to his cheek. As he drifted off to sleep, he noted the faint smell of burnt wood woven into the fabric.

The End