7A/N: This is a short story that i tried to enter on However, I discovered too late that it required a subscription of US$2.80 a month. So now i am sharing this with you guys. The contest was to write a short story beginning with the words Hell found me.>. Please review and tell me what u think!
Hell found me.
Lying in bed, whimpering, as the candle flame flickered and the wax melted, as the shadows closed in. They crept under the door, brushing aside the inexperienced Wards that I had set; overwhelming everything that I had.
Kept at bay by a single candle, its wax impregnated with gold, casting a shield of light that the Dark could not overcome – yet.
"Here, boy, drink this. You must be thirsty." I looked into the face of a smiling old man, who I dimly remembered had some job or the other in the local Temple. He seemed to naturally inspire trust in me, although I had never met him face-to-face before. I was indeed, thirsty, and thus eagerly drank the liquid. It was cool, refreshing, and I smiled my thanks at the old monk. He simply ruffled my hair, and took three items out of a pouch at his side. He handed me the first: a candle, whose red wax had been impregnated with blessed gold grains. As I took it, unbelieving, he told me quite seriously "Light it before you go to bed at night. It will help against the Dark."
Hell crept closer.
Newly Awakened into my powers, a tempting, easy target for whichever faction found me, Heaven or Hell. A rich prize: a young child of eleven with immense potential, a power that could be used to heal, protect – or destroy.
I heard a dull footstep outside my room, my prison. It echoed with the sound of doom, with the wailing scream of thousands who had breathed their last at the hands of this monstrosity. It paused, and I felt the subtle snapping of all my defences simultaneously. The door opened, a wind blew, the candle snuffed out.
I told him that I was not afraid of the dark, but he smiled slowly, and replied "Light it anyway." I argued that it was a waste, that such candles should be reserved for rites or such procedures. He restated "Light it tonight, before you go to bed. It will help delay them." I didn't understand what he meant, but I thanked him and promised to do so. One does not break a promise to a Holy man, so I really did so, althoughI still thought it a waste.
Hell entered.
A ghastly, cold wind swept through the small room, outlining a shifting, man-like figure silhouetted against the starlight. A region of darkness, of anti-light: the opposite of light, not simply its absence. Glowing demonic red eyes opening and closing throughout it, sending a ripple of fear down my spine. I dimly felt my body betraying me, disgracing me, sending a warmth down my front that quickly seemed to freeze.
The creature – a Dreadlord, I have since found – looked on at my weakness and sneered. His limbs opened their appendages, and they came crawling for me. The cold, winter, bone-chilling wind swept around the house, numbing and paralysing. It reached for me, tentacles of shadow, of doom, of death.
The next thing he took out looked like a pouch full of common dirt. This he too gave to me, instructing me "Take this consecrated Earth, and when you get home, mix it with Water. Spread the mud out over the floor surrounding your bed. It is a defence that will not fail for at least an hour if you spit on it. I inquired "Defence against what?" He smiled again; that secretive, knowledgeable smile that seemed to know everything.
Hell reached out...
Quickly, I leaned over my bed, and a drop of liquid fell from my mouth onto the floor, the mud there. A wall sprang up, solid yet ever-changing, seeming to flow from place to place while retaining its shape. It shut out the wind, shut out the darkness; and as the eyes widened in the dark body, I exercised a shred of my newfound Power and relit the candle.
The tentacles shrank back with a hiss, as smoke rose from where the soft, golden light had touched it. Protected from the wind by the ethereal wall, it sprang high, and the shadows retreated from it. I was able to sit up properly and look around for the first time, but I quickly emitted a gasp f horror and shrank back as the Creature moved into the sphere of Light.
I complained that spreading mud on the floor would surely bring my mother's wrath down upon my head. Going down and looking me in the eye, he said "Some things are more important than the wrath of a parent. Do not look down on this Earth, it may be of more use than the candle." Expressing my thanks again, I wondered what the third item would be. If the first was a precious candle, and the second common dirt, there was really no telling what the third was.
Hell waited.
Although smoke started rising immediately from its misshapen body, it gestured once, and an aura of Darkness shrouded it from the light and masked its true, obscene form from my frail eyes. A monstrosity of darkness and perversion, it cannot be described –there are no words for it. I was huddled with fear, but although it struck the barrier, it had no effect on it and more smoke immediately arose from the 'fist'. Recoiling in pain, it withdrew into the shadows, patiently biding its time as the protective barricade weakened.
The third item that he gave me was a small but exquisitely worked silver bell. He told me "Simply leave this by your bedside. Use it as you would a club." Marvelling at the workmanship, I took it, and didn't bother to argue this time. I shook it experimentally, and a pure, clear tone sung out. Carefully taking it, I would have left then and run home, but the old Monk had put his hand on my shoulder, restraining me, saying "Hold on, young one. There is one final thing I must give you."
Hell moved in again.
It had been an hour and a half –more time than I had dared to hope for. However, at that point in time, the translucent wall protecting me faded away, and the wind returned in a gust. I tried to protect the candle, but it was futile as the wind slipped through and snuffed it with seeming ease. The tentacles crawled towards me again, and I curled down under my blanket, trying to keep my body as far away from the grasping appendages. As I looked on, the tentacles slowly developed mouths on the end, filled with rows of razor-sharp teeth that reached towards me slowly, inexorably.
By grace or by chance, my hand grazed the bell, and the soft, pure tone emitted drove the tentacles back and caused the Creature to stagger back, covering its 'ears'. I grabbed it and rang it again, but there was no effect as the wind grabbed the tone of the bell and warped it. Remembering the old man's injunction, I grabbed the bell and used it to smash any tentacles that crept near me. The tentacles smashed parted as if they had been cut, but soon my wild flailing began to wear me out as a never-ending barrage came on towards me.
Reverently, the old man produced and handed over a leather-bound book. On the front was embossed the nine-rayed sun-in-glory; on the back, the Four-pointed Star; Holy symbols of the Temple. He instructed me to read the first few pages so as to 'gain an understanding' once the 'headache had ended and subsided.' As I wasn't having a headache, I asked im what it meant. He replied "Only those who have Awakened can read the Book. To read it beforehand will be futile. Once you do, however, it will teach you." Sceptical, I took the Book from him nonetheless, and began to run off. However, when I turned back to ask his name, he had disappeared, with no sign of him save the items in my hands. Spooked, I ran back to my home and went to see the matron for some willow tea to soothe the immense headache I was developing.
Hell moved in for the kill.
My hands grew leaden, and I dropped the bell on a clumsy swing. Hissing with triumph, the mouths shot towards me, drooling with venom and saliva. They were deflected by the pillow that I held as a shield, but ripped it to pieces. They drew back, and struck again as the creature began to emit an unearthly wail. The tentacles reached towards my foot…
A blaze of light! All of a sudden, a glowing figure had appeared, sending his burning, bright rapier through the body of the Creature. At the same time, the candle reignited and the wall reformed as a blaze of power filled the room. The figure had a face too bright to look upon, but I was suddenly filled with the certainty that the figure of glowing fire was the old man who had given me the cup of 'tea'. As the hellspawn screamed in shock and pain, the old monk yelled in a language that I had never learned before, nor even heard before, but nevertheless could understand.
By the Bell, the Book, and the Candle,
I exorcise you from this land!
By Earth and Fire, Wind and Water,
You're commanded to stay your hand!
Light and Shield, Heaven's defence,
Guards this child from your evil bane;
Divine Blade of Silver, Copper and Gold
Severs you from this Plane!
A cage, a sphere of spinning light formed, pulsating with gentle, yet stern power, encasing the madly shrieking creature in it. It slowly contracted to a pinprick, taking the Dreadlord away, permanently banishing it from this Plane of reality. With it gone, both the malicious shadows faded and the immense Light given off by the old Monk faded away; his sword cooling to reveal tooled silver, richly worked with designs in Copper and Gold, and his bright clothes fading into the plain robes he had worn. Sheathing his sword, he carried me out of the orphanage where I had lived for all my life, taking me to Another Place through a tunnel of Light.
Hell had indeed found me.
But Heaven had got to me first.
END
Kenric Mark Toh
A.k.a Phoenix Cry