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Product Details
| ISBN-13: | 9781482808537 |
|---|---|
| Publisher: | Partridge Publishing Africa |
| Publication date: | 08/05/2015 |
| Sold by: | Barnes & Noble |
| Format: | eBook |
| Pages: | 148 |
| File size: | 259 KB |
About the Author
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Demons Within
The Prophecy
By R.B Govindasami
Partridge Africa
Copyright © 2015 R.B GovindasamiAll rights reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4828-0851-3
CHAPTER 1
July 20th 1909
Is it another vision?"
"Yes son. Somewhat blurry; but I see someone. A man who possesses great might, a warrior whose name is unknown to me. If the vision is true, I believe, that he can end this war."
"He is chosen to stop this war sir?" the young man asked in disbelief.
"Yes, this battle of good and evil, he is the one who will stand in the threshold maintaining the intricate balance, as only he knows how."
"The war will soon end?"
"I'm not sure when he will come, but I do know that fate lies in his hands. He has to realise his destiny himself."
"Please sir, if his time is now ... I must go and find him. If indeed what you say is true, then he might be our only hope of defeating the enemy."
"Wait, there is someone else ... another warrior beside him."
"A brother perhaps?"
"No, they are not of one blood. But I can feel their power. They are indeed the chosen."
The young apprentice remained wordless, trying to grasp what his master had said. Accepting the fact that all the fighting and all the killing before them had served some purpose, suddenly realising that the end to this vile war, was within sight.
"Write down what I am about to tell you."
The young man hastily made his way over to the little wooden desk in the corner of the room. He sat as he lit the remains of a white candle and patiently awaited his Master's words.
"With the wings of evil he shall arise, his power shall be hidden from those most wise. Here to save all mankind, yet not until the end will he himself find. He would need to shed the blood of someone dear, to save the world when catastrophe is near. Only the chosen can defeat the sons and the source, for indeed this is his course."
"Make sure you keep it safe son," he continued.
"We need to leave now sir," he said, as he tucked it inside his shirt and returned to his Master's side.
"No son, look outside."
He moved aside the tattered green curtain and peered out. The cottage was already surrounded. "There are so many of them! They will kill us for sure!" he said in panic.
"I will distract them long enough for you to escape, son. This prophecy will bring our victory," he said tapping on the shirt of his apprentice.
"That is suicide sir, you cannot sacrifice yourself!"
"It is not for you to decide, son. You just make sure that you get this scroll to the others."
"Sir you go, I will try to hold them off!"
"We have no time to discuss this, William. On my signal you make your exit through the back. Do you understand me?"
He nodded in agreement that he would obey his master.
"Burn it down men!" said a monstrous voice from outside.
"Look through that window, I'll signal from outside, and no matter what happens ... just run!" the old man repeated as he looked at his apprentice and walked down the stairs.
William nodded again.
The old man opened the door and walked out.
"There's no need to burn it down, it is me you want," he bravely said as he made his way towards the cloaked troop leader.
Immediately they surrounded him.
"Timothy, we meet at last."
"And who are you, beast?"
"Beast, Timothy? No beast am I, I am Cronus. I am sure you have heard of me before," he said, moving back the black hood of his cloak.
"You're one of his sons!" he said. For the first time in a long while, Timothy feared for his life.
He knew that he had killed many in this war, but for him to face one of the sons was unimaginable.
William heard the unsteady tone of his master's voice as he silently watched from the cottage. He began to shudder, unsure whether to run out and help his master, or do as he was told.
Cronus ran his eyes along the little stone cottage, trying to sense whatever was inside.
"There was another with you. Where is he?"
Timothy's fear began to intensify as he realised they will find William. Although he had been teaching the young man, William was not a half breed and was far weaker than himself. If they got to him, there would be no hope.
"Men, search the house."
"I have no need for an ally," Timothy said as the henchmen made their way toward his cottage.
"If there is no one inside, then you will not stop us from burning it down," Cronus instructed nonchalantly.
Timothy knew that the fate of all those to come, depended on the vision he had just seen. His palms began to sweat, his knees quivered slightly from the rush of adrenaline. But he had to wait for the right moment.
"Very well then. Burn it down! We have who we came for."
"Now William! Run! Find the others!" the old man screamed as he turned around.
"Get him men!" Cronus yelled as the young man darted out the house and through the surrounding trees.
"No!" Timothy screamed as he tried to fight his way towards his apprentice. He pulled out a hunting knife from his pants and thrust it into the closest enemy's neck, immediately repeating the same motion with another. "Let the boy go!" he turned back to Cronus and ineffectively struck him in his gut.
"Hahaha, that tickled," laughed Cronus; he grabbed onto Timothy's hand and forced him to remove the knife from his stomach. "You should know that these weapons are nothing to me." He pushed Timothy to the ground. "Ignatius pyronus!" he said forming a ball of orange fire within his palm.
As William ran, he could hear the screams of his master. He knew that he would inevitably suffer the same fate, but the meeting place was within reach. He did not care about himself, the throbbing in his right leg would not slow him down. His main priority was getting the paper to a safe place. He could hear three lesser enemies following him. In his mind he played out the scenario in which he would easily defeat them. But now was not the time to be a hero.
He continued to run, ducking and dodging those that closely followed, trying his hardest not to fall over as he ran.
"I see it!" he shouted to himself, and burst forward. He pushed on, moving as fast as his short legs would carry him.
"Open up! Open up!" he yelled as he entered the church grounds. Quickly the doors opened as he slid inside; immediately shutting behind him.
He fell to his knees, sighing in relief as the crowd stared at him.
"It's alright son. You're safe now. Those beasts won't enter here," said a man who wore a suit.
"What's wrong lad?" asked someone else from the crowd.
"They ... got ... Timothy ..." he managed to blurt out between breaths.
"NO! IMPOSSIBLE!" said the man in the suit. "He was the best fighter we had."
"We are all done for now!" came a woman's voice.
"There is hope!" he shouted back at them, William paused and took in a breath of air, " ... victory will be ours."
"What are you saying lad?" asked the man in the suit.
"He had a vision before they killed him."
"Did he tell you what it was?" asked an aged man as he stepped forward, separating himself from the crowd. His clothes were tattered and torn, but the look on his face was of wisdom and integrity.
"Yes," William replied.
"Do you remember it boy?" the man continued, not giving William a chance to talk freely.
"I have it written down," he said reaching into his shirt.
The aged man grabbed the paper and hastily read it, "There is hope everyone!" he announced as he played with his short moustache, a sudden faint smile appearing on his wrinkled face.
"There is one who shall bring an end to this war!" continued the old man. "Timothy's visions have never failed us before."
"There is hope," William softly told himself as the crowd drowned out behind him, "there is hope."
CHAPTER 2Present day Old friends
He sat motionlessly in his varnished mahogany chair, his ebony fingers intertwined with each other, elbows placed firmly against the smooth armrest. He knew it would come; there was no doubt in his mind. He knew it would keep on coming, keep causing mayhem and destruction until it finally killed him. Yet, he sat still and patiently waited its inevitable arrival. He lingered all alone in the darkness, his mind conjuring up a faint smell of death in search for an accomplice. He began to reminisce about their first encounter six years ago, the unexplainable spawn of his own nightmares. Their battle was one of the most vicious he had had, and that particular foe was the deadliest he had fought. Internal bleeding, fractured ribs, hospitalized for a few weeks, but he came out as the victor. That was long ago, back when he was still inexperienced, a minor in this game. He had faced his worst nightmare and won ... but now it was back.
He began silently tapping his fingers on the back off his entwined hands. Dead silence, no one to turn to. He knew first hand that anyone he brought into his life would end up dead. Or maybe he would be the one the reaper comes for this time. Although death would be painful, it would finally bring him peace. A loner by nature, this was the path he chose; or did he have a choice?
He lifted his left hand and caressed his short stubble like beard. He could sense it coming. He glanced up at the square clock mounted on the wall; seven fifty nine.
"Any second now," he told himself as the minute hand moved.
The smell of decay grew stronger, to the point where he had to cover his mouth. He could hear the heavy breathing from the hallway outside.
"He is finally here," he whispered to himself. His reaction was a complex mixture of fear, joy and relief.
"The door is open," he said knowing who was on the other side.
He remained motionless, "I knew you would come," he continued.
It strolled in, taking the form of a man, no taller than five feet. His scarlet skin and tattered demeanour aided the ferocity in his fiery red eyes.
"At last, I have found you again, Brian," it said.
"Yes, but this won't take as long as last time," he paused, "I promise."
"We'll just have to see about that," it said running toward him and thrusting its right hand forward. Brian flipped backward over the dark wooden chair; using his hands to push himself of the armrests and into a standing position, while dodging its attack.
Its powerful hand penetrated the back of the wooden chair; it pulled it back out almost immediately. Bouncing over the chair it threw another punch. Brian side stepped and grabbed his dark red wrist, "That was my favourite chair."
Before he said anything else the creature ploughed his free hand into Brian's stomach, which sent him sprawling backwards onto his behind.
"You might be a little faster now, but you're still all talk," it said.
It lifted its heavy leg, stomping for Brian's ribcage, but he dodged once more, quickly but ineffectively kicking it from the side.
"I beat you last time we fought, didn't I?"
It dived onto him plastering him against the floor; striking for his head.
"Weakling!" it screamed.
All Brian did was smile and wait as it tried to punch him again. "I did say I would end this sooner than before," he said. He flicked his legs sending it flying over himself.
"You were toying with me!" it said shocked, "How did you get so strong?"
"My turn," he said and walked calmly towards the creature. He thrust his opened left hand into its face; using his free hand he grabbed it before it could fall, pulling the beast closer, then punching it again.
It coughed a little and let out spittle of red blood, as rich as its skin.
"You learn a lot of tricks when you're in my line of work."
"Tricks? But you are just a priest," it asked struggling to escape his hold.
"You inspired me to choose a different path ..." Brian replied.
"You're a hunter now ..."
"You are the reason," he smirked, and then punched it away from himself. "After our last battle I realised my true power, that the prophesy they told me as a child was about me. And I use this power to save innocent people from beasts like you."
He stopped there and walked toward the injured creature, picking it up by the throat, "I have one question for you. I was the one who created you, although by mistake. I gave you life, but you continually try to take mine. Why? Why do you keep coming for me?"
"I was born form your sorrow and heartache," it struggled for its words, "I feel all your emotional pain. All of your baggage has become my burden and the only way I can get rid of my pain is through your death."
"We cannot let that happen now, can we?" Brian forced it into the nearby wall, his free hand pulled back for the finishing blow. Then he stopped, out of sympathy. Even though it was a demon, he couldn't help but feel guilty for causing it all that pain.
"Go," he said while lowering his head, "and hope we never meet again."
It turned and began to walk away slowly, but as Brian closed his eyes; it immediately turned back and tried to grab him. He instinctively grabbed its fist and twisted its hand, forcing it to turn its entire body around in the process. He placed one hand on its neck, the other hand on its head and turned it one hundred and eighty degrees to its original position, without lifting his head to even face him, or opening his eyes to see his adversary. He let go of the lifeless body as a thick bolt of white lightning shot out of it and entered his chest. Brian shrugged as the power entered him and the body slowly disintegrated until it was just a pile of dust.
Even though he had just beaten the creature, he was certain that it would be back; such is the life of a hunter. The amount of loved ones might sometimes decrease, but your amount of enemies is always on the rise. They always seem to find their way back to earth; and no matter what - they always seem to find their way back to him. It was pointless to think about what he could not change, and he was too tired to try, actually he was tired before the fight could begin.
"You know, there's only so much I can do myself," Brian said, as he plopped himself down on his bed, staring at the ceiling. "I know that you've given me the strength and you know that I will do your will as best I can, but sometimes it just seems like a little too much for me."
He turned onto his side, blankly gazing at the black alarm clock that lay on his headrest, listlessly watching as the red seconds hand turned round and round the stationary face. His mind was twisting by all the mixed emotions running through it.
"I never questioned you before, you know that ... but why me? I'm not saying that I don't want to do it ... I'm saying that I don't understand what makes me so special?" he passionately said as he turned back toward the ceiling. "Well, you know best, right? Yeah, I know you do. Well goodnight Father." A priest by day, a hunter by night, whether it was in the cathedral or on the streets, Brian devoted his life to helping everyone that he could. Since he started at the cathedral, he kept to himself, afraid to grow close to anyone. Whenever he felt someone was trying to get him to open up to them, Olivia and Victor ran threw his mind. His two best friends since childhood, although it felt as if a lifetime had gone past since then.
His family moved into the neighbourhood five years ago in his final year of school. Brian still lived with his parents; they knew about his destiny, and were reluctant about telling him of it at first, but they soon realized that if they didn't tell him themselves, he may be persuaded by something evil. At the tender age of seventeen, he was introduced to a world were nightmares and reality collided. Yet, he was one of the few that were given the power to do something about it. Still seventeen, and innocent, Brian had not had time to adjust to his responsibilities, he had not yet felt the heartache of losing someone dear to him, and was still inexperienced enough to let others get caught up in his treacherous life. Barely a year in the neighbourhood, Brian finally found himself adjusting, settling down and making friends, but trouble seems to follow the unfortunate.
"Are you coming to Devin's house party or what?" Olivia asked Brian as they entered the dark blue, coloured flat.
"No ways! I got a math test to study for."
"Well, can't you spare a little time man," Victor asked.
"Yeah, it won't be the same if you're not there," Olivia added and shot him a flirty smile.
"I'm sorry guys, you see I need to work harder in Math, it's the only subject I'm not good in. But, I'll see you two tomorrow at church," he told the twins.
"He says he's doing badly in math," Victor told his sister.
"But he's getting a B-," Olivia said.
(Continues...)
Excerpted from Demons Within by R.B Govindasami. Copyright © 2015 R.B Govindasami. Excerpted by permission of Partridge Africa.
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