to see us sometimes?” Again Mike wondered why Will was speaking so slowly and calmly.
“Of course I will come see you. I am not a member of a cult, I can come and go as I wish.” Mike said.
“Dad, I still think that you need to go see a doctor if you are eating as much as you say and dropping weight rapidly. I’m worried about you.”
“And I told you that I am fine. Never felt better.” Mike said stubbornly. “Now I need to head to bed, I have a busy day tomorrow.” With that he ushered his son out and locked the door. He didn’t know why, but Will’s calm demeanor made him want to get out of the apartment sooner rather than later. He made the decision to be out of there tomorrow and up at the compound before noon. That meant cleaning and packing through the night, but it would be worth it.
The following day as soon as the office opened he handed in his keys and then drove his meager belongings to the compound. As soon as he got out of his car and talked to the Prophet, he remembered no more.
THE NEXT THING MIKE knew his eyes blinked open. He looked around and determined that judging by the machines attached to him he must be in the hospital. As his eyes adjusted, he noticed Will sitting in the chair next to him. “Dad? Are you awake? Are you there?”
Mike nodded, his neck feeling stiff. “Yes.” He croaked, his throat dry and hurting. “What happened?”
“You disappeared to that damn cult and it nearly took me and the police too long to find you. I went to you apartment and you were gone. No forwarding address. All I knew was the name of the cult and that you were in the nearby mountains. It took three days to find it and then another day to get a warrant so the police could raid the place. You and dozens of others were in comatose states, hooked up to weird machines that seemed to be draining your essence for lack of a better word, the cream color solution that was found is being analyzed as we speak. We thought we were too late. We were for some.” Will looked away.
“People died?” Mike asked.
“We found nine bodies in the cabins. That’s not the worst though, they found a trench at the back of the property and they have no idea how many bodies are back there.” Will said, looking pale just talking about it.
“And the Prophet?” Mike asked.
“Disappeared. No one know who or what he really is. And he is free and probably killing more people as we speak.” Will said disgusted.
“Am I going to make it?” Mike asked.
“They said if you woke up you stood a good chance. Once you are out of here you are coming to live with me and Lynne, no arguments.” Will said.
Mike only nodded. He really couldn’t argue that plan considering he had given everything to a monster, a monster still loose in the world. Now that his mind was clear, Mike wondered what the Prophet really was. No matter what, the man was a mad genius prey only on the lonely. If not for his son... Mike shuddered to think of his end and there were so many people all alone in the world.
Sheri Velarde
Sheri Velarde lives in New Mexico with her spouse and their dog.
Being an avid reader since an early age, she has wanted to be a writer for as long as she can remember. She has been writing all her life, but only recently started to actually try to pursue her dream of writing for a living. She specializes in all things paranormal and that go bump in the night. Her heart truly lies in exploring unknown worlds or adding the supernatural to our world. If it goes bump in the night or has magical connotations, Sheri writes about it.
She is constantly putting out new material with various publishers, so it is best to keep up with her on her website www.authorsherivelarde.weebly.com.
During the day she works in accounting and in her spare time Sheri is an artist, independent comic writer/artist and freelance non-fiction writer. She can often be found with her nose in a book, or playing various games with her spouse and their friends. This includes D&D and Warhammer. Yep, Sheri is a nerd and proud of it.
Links:
Website/Blog: http://authorsherivelarde.weebly.com/
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Twitter: https://twitter.com/Sher_V
Street Fail
Thomas M. Malafarina
“Well, I try not to think