As Halloween approaches I thought I would give you a devilish treat. Here is chapter twenty-one of, Salvation Hyperlink to Lost Souls. https://www.amazon.co.uk/Salvation-Hyperlink-Souls-Christina-Rowell-ebook/dp/B016IRYV7G/
Chapter Twenty-one
Day Twelve
cont’d: Help! Get us out of here.
Five minutes have
passed since we last chatted and
the horror
continues. The hole has stopped expanding
but, thankfully,
hasn’t swallowed us all up. Yet. There’s
a lot of rumbling
going on and it isn’t my tummy. The
deep crater that has
now formed is smoking. I think it
leads to Hell
itself. There are flames growing in height
as I speak.
“We
need all the prisoners together. Bring yours
here,” orders the
bronze guy. He is the overall boss in
this group. “Hey,
where’s your baton?” Trouble ahead;
he’s noticed that
I am missing a vital piece of equipment.
Keep
your thoughts clean.
“I
lost it when I was standing near the hole just as it
was opening up, and
I must have dropped it.” Listen to
me. Liar, liar pants
on fire. A weird look has come over
his face. It’s
difficult to put into words, but I think it’s the
stare that does it
for me. He pushes a spirit out of his way
and starts to move
towards me and he waves at the clay
man who spoke to me
earlier. He’s encouraging him to
join
him. Told you there was trouble brewing. I think I
gave the wrong
answer to his question.
Heck, this is not
the time for me to get visions of my
past life. I’m
back in the schoolyard playing statues.
The thing is, I can
see the faces of the other kids. All
that is holy, don’t
let evil play with my memories. My
apparitions all seem
to be splintering into pieces; it’s
important I get them
out of my head, or I’m not going to
be
able to deal with this imminent situation.
Deep
breath, mind has cleared, and bad vibes and visions have been locked
away in the closet in my mind.
“I asked you a
question. Where’s your baton?” asks
the bronze man. His
eyes are flashing like an animal’s
when an automobile’s
headlights catch them in the dark.
“I dropped it back
there and I had no time to retrieve
it.” Oh, oh. That
excuse must have been a lame one
because I haven’t
halted the men’s advance.
“How could you
have dropped it?” asks the same
guy.
“It just fell out
of my hand, I told you.”
“It can’t fall
out of your hand. It manifests from your
wrist band. The
wrist band that can only be removed
from
an ordained disciple of the Devil himself.”
“Eh…”
Can’t answer that one.
“I think we have
an imposter amongst us here. Look,
he has no bracelet.”
Do you recall the scene in Robin
Hood, Prince of
Thieves, when Robin Hood visits the
Sheriff of
Nottingham and Robin is impersonating one
of the bad guys.
Well, that’s the situation that’s going
down right at this
minute. No kidding. All I would need
now is a hood, bow,
arrow, and a group of Merry Men
for support. The
likelihood of that is near impossible, me
thinks.
I’ve
stopped pushing the light out of my body, so I’m
no longer glowing.
If I had been in any other location in
the island, it would
now be difficult for these humungous
guys to catch sight
of me. But the fires creeping up the
hill are now well
stoked and the light they’re giving off
is enough for these
guys to see me. The only advantage
of the attention now
being on me is that the guardians
have stopped trying
to herd the prisoners. So, at least the
prisoners for now
are safe.
“Whatever
happens, try and stay put,” I say to the
girls. They’re not
saying anything. The three of them
are
crouched down, arms around each other. Sobbing.
The
bronze man is the first to grab hold of me. Since
eliminating my glow,
I can feel my strength regenerating,
so I’m hoping I’m
up for this fight.
His hand clamps onto
my right arm. It’s so tight it
feels like a vice.
I’m trying to disperse my particles and
pull my arm free.
Yep, managed. He looks at his empty
palm. His buddy the
clay man fancies his chances. He
has his big hand
around my throat. Excuse me if my
voice comes over a
little funny at this point and I don’t
mean ha, ha. I
shouldn’t do this cliché thing, but I say
them
so you don’t get all bored on me.
I think I might pass
out if I don’t get my neck out of
his hand. He’s
lifting me up by the neck and shaking me.
I wriggle free by
altering the shape of my head. Not a
good look and, for
goodness, sakes don’t try this at home.
Here he comes again.
I manage to push him with
some force. He’s
lost his footing and he’s started to
roll down the hill.
He won’t be coming back soon; he’s
being engulfed by
the flames. Just be glad there is no
soundtrack to this
book, or you would hear his awful
squeals.
Clay
man isn’t giving up. Here he comes. As he tries
to catch hold of me,
I surround him with my particles,
which I’ve
re-illuminated. He’s confused and, now, he’s
rotating like a
ballerina doing a pirouette. As he spins
around, he swipes at
me, but his hands can only grasp a
few molecules of me
at a time and not enough to do me
any permanent
damage. I feel a slight pinch but nothing
else.
Nada. Thanks be to God.
He’s
continuing to swipe at my particles though with
his wand. “Ouch!”
he managed to make some contact.
The brute. An
electrical charge buzzes through me. Hope
it recharges my
batteries.
I’m trying to
raise as much strength as I possibly
can
from the inner soul of my soul. If that makes sense.
Although
it’s not easy when a big guy with red eyes is
swiping at you and
you’re trying to contain him at the
same time.
Please God, help me
raise my inner strength. I
suddenly feel
revitalized. Never believe anything is
impossible because
everything is attainable if you truly
want
it. Hey, and it’s within reason of course. Reach for
the sky, kids.
White light emanates
from my dispersed body form.
I use the power of
the light to squeeze him tighter and
tighter. With the
heat I have generated on an already
melting body, the
clay man has been force into a smaller
form. He’s gone
all sticky and gooey. Here was me
thinking that he
would fragment into tiny pieces, shows
how much I know. He
can’t be made of proper clay; it
must
be some kind of devil-made product.
He’s
thinner now but still the same height. I need to
compress him down if
I can. I manage to rise above him
slightly and push
his head down into his narrow body.
One slap down with
the palm of my hand, his head
vanishes within the
clay. Yeah! Done and crushed. He
can no longer do me
any harm.
I
start to put my spirit back into a more manageable
metaphor and push
hard to flatten clay boy out. I kick
him hard and he
slides down the hill like a puck across
the ice at an ice
hockey match.
Two
down. Eh…one, two, three to go. I’m hoping to
generate further
heat from my form. I’ll tell you why in
a minute. I need to
focus. It worked; the waxy guy who
thought he could do
better than his buddies is already
flaking
all over the place. So, I don’t think it’ll take much
to tip him over the
edge so to speak.
He’s now lunging
at me. My metaphorical arm strikes
a blow to his head.
Yeah. He felt the full force that was
behind
it. A chunk of his face has fallen off. Huh, I wish I
could
take a quick photograph for you. But hey ho, that’s
out of the question.
I’ll describe him and you can draw a
photo fit. Big guy,
six two, or bigger. Bulbous pink eyes
with a piece of his
face and skull missing. His head now
has the appearance
of a lop-sided church candle with
hair.
I
hit his head again with all the power I can muster.
Whoops, his head has
just fallen off. “You shouldn’t lose
your head so easily,
buddy.” Corny, I know. It rolls on
its own accord down
the hill. It ignites instantly in the
flames and I can see
it’s melting away into oblivion. The
rest of his strange
manifestation has already turned into
a big puddle of wax.
Gone.
I
scan my eyes over to the girls; they’re okay. To the
right of them is
another waxy guy, but he’s not coming
for me, he’s
taking a step back. The only two guys left
are now running
towards me and they’ve linked arms,
showing they are
united in their quest to annihilate me.
“Holy crap.” I’m
on my back and they’re both kicking
me
and thumping me with their wands.
It
doesn’t matter how I change my body shape, every
blow and kick that’s
being targeted at me is hitting a
bulls-eye, the
bulls-eye being all over my body. Aaagh!
Hey, what’s
happening? Zenda and Ruth have jumped
onto the backs of my
clay and waxy attackers. Beth is
helping out by body
punching each of the big brutes in
turn. These girls
mean business. Ruth is poking the clay
man in the eyes and
he’s pulling at her arms frantically.
This girl would be
good on a bucking bronco, for sure.
Although these
broncos are unlikely to be tamed in the
near
future.
I’m
now able to resume my devil-slaying role since
I’m no longer
being beaten with vengeance. I’m not
back onto my feet.
Deep breath, deep breath. I’ve filled
my spiritual lungs
with air. Note, I didn’t say fresh air,
because
in this state I run on empty.
That
description would come under writers license,
I think. You know
how those authors get carried away
with words and make
life on occasions sound rosier, or
worse than it really
is just for the sake of selling a book.
Um,
moving on.
Concentration
time. I require it to get my particles
in order to create
some extra destructive light and heat
waves. I believe
that, when I beam this stuff out of me, I
will eliminate all
that’s standing in the way of me getting
Ruth and Beth safely
out at this present time anyway.
Because devil
slaying I don’t believe is going to stop
here. We still have
to get back to the Island of the Blessed.
Puuush. I’m now
lit up like a light bulb and streams of
the
white light and heat is emanating from each of my
arms.
Each arm is now pointed at a distracted warder.
The white heat
sizzles into the matter that makes up
these evil spirits
and makes strange zapping sounds. I
realize I have been
calling them men previously, but it’s
easier
for you to imagine them if I give you a description
that you can relate
to.
Otherwise, you may
think that they were just a mass
of air floating
about, or would you? Maybe I do you a
disservice, my
friend, and you know what I’m talking
about right from the
start and it’s not necessary for
me to spell it out
each time. I’m rambling again. Okay.
But I think I’ll
go with the safe option and continue to
explain things as
best I can. Why I am I doing that for
you? Because that’s
the kind of guy I am. Loveable,
considerate…
I’m
fully energized; say a little prayer, you guys. The
waxy spirit is now
headless and Ruth has nothing left to
circle her arms
around and slides down his back. Beth
kicks his right leg
with all her might and his leg cracks at
the knee joint and
crumbles into small pieces. His other
leg snaps in two
with the weight of his upper body. He
is
now a legless, headless torso lying on the ground. Beth
and
Ruth jump on top of him and jump up and down on
the matter that is
now left like they were on pogo sticks.
The heat around here
would make a cauldron bubble
and the spirit’s
unstable body bends and splits into many
pieces. He isn’t
ever going to give anyone any trouble
again. I think they
could probably stop now, but it will
do them good to get
their frustrated emotions that have
built up out of
their systems.
Zenda
is struggling with with her victim, and I use the
word victim very,
very loosely. I can now use a fullstrength
light beam on him.
This should do the trick.
Zaaap! That was a
mass of white light leaving me. It left
me so quickly and
with such force that I now actually
feel dizzy. Gone.
He’s just collapsed into a tangled heap.
“Hooray,” the
unguarded captives cheer at the
destruction of their
keepers. Problem is, I now have a
group of spirits
that think I’m going to lead them all to
freedom.
Answers
on a postcard as what to do next.
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