[Halloween 2013] A Modern Pilgrim

I’ve been having this reoccurring dream every couple of nights for the past three weeks. There is a battlefield. Two forces, clad in bright and shining armor, are knights fighting for their side and cause, whatever those may be. They continuously fight and fall; there seems no end to their forces. I am a silent observer, passing through the battle without affect, a mere witness to the slaughter. One side bearing the color of red, the other blue, there apparently is no other distinction between the two armies. What is the purpose of all this? What are they fighting for? Why am I witnessing this over and over? I look up at the sky—a fine shade of azure—as clouds pass overhead, seemingly too rapid for natural clouds to travel. The bodies begin to pile as I look about. I take a deep breath and return my gaze upward…The clouds and winds are surely gathering to welcome bloodshed.

“He wakes.”

The sunlight peered into the room through the thin slits of the blinds and onto his face. The boy leaned up, removed his feet from the sheets and dangled them over the side of the bed. The clock read “6:59am” and a sigh let out from his lips as the clock passed to the seventh hour and began an incessant blare. He laid a hand on the switch to halt it and pressed his other hand to his face, wiped away his drowsiness and called to question his repetitive dreaming experience. “What does it all mean?” he questioned. Was this a random experience, he would not normally pay it any mind. However, this dream had become a nuisance.

“Zeeky! Come eat please!” his mother called him to breakfast after he finished his morning routine.

“Mom, don’t call me †˜Zeeky,’ I’m too old for that stuff…” He mumbled as he sat to eat the eggs and toast she had prepared for him. It was simply another normal Monday, school had just begun a couple months ago and he was a senior in high school already. His mother sang a tune to herself as she poured a drink for him and his father who was already seated and reading the newspaper.

“Zeke, you had better hurry if you want to be on time, your teacher called and complained about you being late too often.” His father spoke to him without eye contact, continuously reading the front page’s article. Zeke simply nodded in response as he stuffed the last piece of toast into his mouth and slipped his backpack on, preparing to leave. “Have a good day today, alright?” He mumbled a †˜bye’ through the bread as his mother gave him a goodbye kiss on the head. He wiped where she kissed in slight, yet concealed, embarrassment and left out the front door to begin his brief walk to school.

“You sure took your time, Zeke.” There they were to meet him, just like usual since school started. A guy and a girl waited at the sidewalk outside the front gate. The girl had her hair down mid-back in length and it shone a golden blonde; her skin was light and fair. The guy’s hair was a couple inches and slicked back, but slightly wavy and dark brown, his skin was still tanned from the summer. Zeke pretended not to notice the guy’s remark too much.
“Whatever, Ross, we’ll get there when we get there.” The three began walking casually. His yard was speckled in brown leaves that he would depressingly have to rake for his chore when he returned.

“Hey, your birthday’s coming up soon. Right, Zee?” The girl said to him, peering around Ross so she could address him.

“Yeah, Jo. I’m surprised you remembered.”

“Who could forget? It’s on Halloween of all days,” Ross responded with a drone, “we should do something fun this year like TP some houses or scare some kids." Jo just shook her head.

“I’d rather just go trick-or-treating, I don’t care if we’re too old for it, it’s fun!” Ross waved his hand dismissively in response.

“We are definitely too old for it, but scaring kids into leaving their candy for us to take will get you chocolate if that’s what you want.” Jo got mad and shot him a frown.

“What do you want to do, Zee? It’s your birthday. Don’t you want to have fun tick-or-treating?” She looked at Zeke with puppy-dog eyes, but he smirked and shook his head, determined not to get suckered into her little trick.

“No comment.” He didn’t want to upset either of his friends.

“Well, you should figure it out, it’s only a week away, and we’ll spend it how you want. Won’t we?” She looked over to Ross who gave a careless shrug. “Well, come on, there’s school. Hurry, we’re already late!” Jo ran off to class and Ross parted from Zeke with a cool one-motion wave. He sighed as he heard the bell ringing and surrendered himself to the boring day.

After morning session, the bell for lunch rang and the three met up again. They took a table on a side of the cafeteria to themselves and began to eat. Jo and Ross were talking about their teachers. Jo seemed to like all of hers this year and Ross countered with how mean and strict his were. It was amusingly clear who was the optimist and pessimist in their little circle. It made Zeke wonder what kind of perspective he had. He hadn’t really thought intensely about it before. As he looked up to give it some thought, he got a sharp pain in his temples. Zeke could hear the sounds of clanging like someone was banging their cafeteria pan against a table or maybe one of the cooks moving pots around in the kitchen. “Ugh, tell them to stop, please. It’s giving me a headache.” He pressed his hand to his head to meet his temples to help it. He got these occasionally, but it didn’t make them any less troublesome.

“Tell who to stop? Stop what?” Ross looked at Zeke with an eyebrow raised.

“That banging, it’s like a pan or a pot or something, is it coming from the kitchen?” Ross looked towards there, but couldn’t see anything directly.

“I don’t see anything, man. I don’t hear anything either.” As he said that, the tin smashing stopped. Zeke sighed in relief.

“Never mind, they stopped.” Ross looked to Jo and raised his eyebrows in question if she heard it, she shook her head in confusion. “Anyway, I don’t know if my teachers are good or bad yet, but I can definitely tell they’re boring.” Ross laughed, nodding his head in agreement. The three continued to eat in silence for the remainder of lunch and the day passed, albeit slowly.

The walk home was fairly normal. Jo and Ross talked and sometimes argued almost to a cute level. Zeke thought back to how he met the two nearly the same way. They playfully argued up to his table at lunch on the first day of class and sat down with him since there was no other place to sit. He typically preferred to eat alone in silence, but made an exception for the interesting pair. It was a wonder why they never met during his previous years in high school. At the very least, he was thankful for the company. They arrived at his house first and they waved goodbye to each other. Zeke entered his house which was unlocked since his mother was home, likely preparing dinner. It was as he thought, she immediately asked him to rake the yard while he still had his shoes and jacket on. He begrudgingly followed orders and made it quick. He finished as his father returned from work and they had dinner shortly after. The night continued with homework, assigned reading, and a little TV with his parents. He let out a yawn and knew it was time for bed. His parents caught on and made sure to ask him to do his nightly routine before bed and he, again, begrudgingly acquiesced.

After his nightly duties, he set his alarm and prepared his book bag for all the items he would need. As he slipped into his pajamas, he stretched and peered at his bed. It looked incredibly comfortable and he covered himself with the sheets and slouched down into it, preparing for sleep, wondering if the dream would return again like it had last night. It wasn’t long before he drifted to unconsciousness, the images of knights in motion entering his vision, the sounds of their weapons clashing ringing in his ears.

There they were, still at it. They fought and battled a never-ending fight. There are a lot more bodies around this time, the battle clearly raging on without my inspection. The winds are sharp and the sky has grown dark. The clouds above are so gray and numerous that not a spot of blue can be seen. It feels as though a tornado will funnel and strike. The bodies pile even higher and stain the grass red with blood. The world rumbles loudly and I take on a position of balance, but it is not the ground that shakes. A loud and collective buzz hums distantly but growing closer. I look up and see specks descend from the darkened clouds. Few at first, they grow very quickly to a swarm. Locusts. They fly downward to the ground and land upon the fallen bodies and feast. Eventually, the ground becomes littered with them. The knights battle on despite the strange sight and fight fiercely. They’re devouring the corpses, munching them bit by bit. Why are they not phased? Why do they battle on? I look on in astonishment, and slight fear as the sky darkens further. A dark winged figure materializes from behind a swarm descending from the clouds. A demon, in everything the name entails. Before I know it, I fall back in fear and scurry backward. My hands rest upon a corpse and I can feel the bugs scuttle across it. I shudder and bring my arm back, wiping my arm despite believing they cannot interfere with me. My eyes peer back to the demonic man-beast, blood-red skin, black hair, and wicked horns protruding from his forehead. He hovers above the battle using his bat-like wings, gazing down with his bright and crimson eyes, armed with a spear. A smirk arises from his mouth, fangs creeping out. He is enjoying the slaughter, and the fallen are feeding his swarm. I want to look away, but I am too terrified to blink. The demon’s eyes dart to me and it is as if my heart stopped at that very moment. He can see me. He can see me!

“Ezekiel!”

The booming siren of the alarm let out a shrill cry and ripped Zeke from the alternate plain of existence. His eyes shot open wide for a few seconds, then he leaned up and almost thankfully shut off the alarm. He sat at the side of his bed for a minute and brought his hands to his face to bring consciousness to his reddened eyes, realizing the affect of the dream on him. His hands were shaking and he watched them in vain as they vibrated beyond his control. He felt it necessary to get up and shower to begin his morning routine and calm his nerves. As he washed himself, he couldn’t help but half-consciously stare at the wall in thought. “What was that…?”

Breakfast passed to Zeke in a minute phase, a blur as the same routine progressed, yet his mind remained analyzing the events that were foretold in his sleep. Eating, leaving, walking with his two companions, the stages passed quickly. Morning session at school was well underway and the lessons passed without retention, yet not from boredom but distraction. He still questioned the meaning of his dream, even harder than before because of the progression from the reoccurring battles. His thought process was halted when he was called upon. “Zeke, what did you derive from the seventh problem?” His attention was only caught because the teacher prefaced the question with his name.

“…From the homework?” Zeke received a silent nod as confirmation. “Well…” He slowly stood and explained the answer he had arrived at and the process it required. The teacher, satisfied with his answer and explanation permitted him to be seated. Zeke knew he was lucky and exhaled from his gut, but an annoying onset of ringing plagued him. He banged a hand against his ear as if it were somehow a remedy. The quiet whispers behind him distracted him from his temporary ordeal.

“Look at him, he wasn’t even paying attention. I wish I was that lucky.”

“Bah, he’s such a loser, why did you think he got it right? That’s probably all he does when he gets home, he never hangs out with anyone, anyway. What a dork.”

“Maybe you’re right. He really is pretty weird.” Zeke wondered if they were serious, there was no way he couldn’t hear them, but he dare not turn around, through fear of letting them know he was eavesdropping. No, it was certainly easier to just ignore them altogether. Thankfully the ringing stopped just as the lunch bell let out. The teacher let everyone know of the upcoming test on Friday, much to everyone’s dismay. There was a test on Halloween, on his birthday of all days. However, lunch was about to start and he’d certainly be much happier with his friends.

The line was a bit longer today and it took a bit before he could arrive at his usual table where Ross and Jo were already knee-deep in some topic of discussion, like a celebrity scandal or assignment. He listened to them a little bit before eating silently and reflecting on what was said about him in class. It wasn’t long before Jo picked up on it; she was really good at reading him. “What’s up, Zee? You’re really quiet today.” Zeke took a breath and pushed his food around with a utensil.

“I guess I’m feeling pretty down. There’s a test Friday that I’ll need to prep for, but that’s not all...” Zeke decided it best to hold off being so open in describing his dreams. The last thing he wanted to do was attract the concern of his friends, especially Jo. “All I do is homework and chores. Also, we don’t hang out that much outside of school. I’m not a loser, am I?” Jo almost chuckled to shove away the notion of such a query.

“What do you mean, what kind of question is that? You seem totally fine to me. Maybe you do spend a lot of time at home doing work, but we’re graduating this year, so that’s kind of expected, right?” Zeke smiled to himself and looked up at her. It became apparent to him that his life lately was definitely that of a normal high school student. He felt a bit dim being so persuaded by idle chatter in class.

“Well, I guess you do look kind of nerdy to me, Zeeky-boy,” Ross snidely remarked as Jo backhanded his arm almost in disbelief that he really said what he did. “Hey, not my fault he makes up excuses when I say we go out and do fun stuff together.”

“That’s because your definition of †˜fun’ is going out and making some sort of mischief, you delinquent.” Ross laughed and raised a finger to his lips, shushing her. “I don’t blame Zee at all for not going along with whatever insane thing you want to do.”

“Well, if you don’t want to be all †˜Zeke the geek,’ let’s actually do something fun for Halloween. It’s your birthday, so you can afford to take a break from school work, right?” Jo slapped his arm again, her mouth agape at how horrible of a friend he was being, calling Zeke such a thing.

Zeke smirked, content with Jo’s response and Ross’ †˜friendly’ attempt. “Maybe you’re right. I’ll think about it. Anyway…” The conversation changed to something more superfluous to pass the time. The bell rang shortly after for afternoon sessions and the rest of the day passed in due time. The walk back home after-school was quaint. Not all the homes were decorated for All Hallows' Eve, but those that were proved to make devoted effort. Fabric ghosts hanged from trees, cardboard tombstones erected from lawns, some houses even donned an array of spider webs across their porch, coffins lined up against the foundation, or monsters seated in lawn chairs. Finally, they arrived at Zeke’s home and it was bare. His family didn’t make a heavy attempt in the spirit of Halloween, whether lack of affect for the holiday or because of the religious connotations behind downplaying the traditional pagan and occultist connections. His family was more excited for the day because of the anniversary of his birth ahead of the spook-centered festival.

Zeke turned to wave his friends off before heading inside to repeat his evening ritual. It repeated as if normal: A little television, dinner when his father returned, eliminating his school work, and some light leisure reading. He took a nightly shower after, dressed himself in his pajamas, and bid his parents goodnight. As he slowly paced his way back to his room, he swallowed hard and felt warmer than usual. He had ignored this moment all evening, but it arrived and he had to deal with it. His mind filled with anxious worries and what awaited him when he returned to rest, but also questioned the legitimacy of such concerns. What were his worries based on, the arrival of late October, or perhaps television? The situation was absurd. Although the topic distant, he recalled Jo’s alleviating words. “You seem totally fine to me.” He felt slightly empowered as he lowered himself into his bed and closed his eyes. Jo was right about everything, she was smart, studious, and beautiful. Although he felt embarrassed at his unnecessary mental focus of her attractive quality, he took solace in her image and hoped the faith that he placed in her would protect him from such evil premonitions. She would never lie to him. He was fine.

I’m walking blind. There is so much fog. I can’t see ten feet ahead of me, but I can hear their sounds. The sounds of battle remain in this mental fabrication. Where are the knights that regularly populate this astral plain? I can hear them ahead of me, I just need to keep trekking onward and I should…There! There they are, shadowed silhouettes fighting in unison against someone. As I near, their colors reveal themselves, those of red and blue against…against the demon! My ethereal heart begins to pound at the sight of the unholy scarlet monster dodging both the swing and slash of the knight’s weapons. He is so swift, the knights are ill-fated towards their downfall as the demon counters a slash of his spear that tears slits through their breastplate and chainmail. I gaze in horror as the remaining knights fall to his blade. Their forces have come to an end and the locusts swarm, eating their fill. The demonic figure relaxes, stands upright, and tilts his gaze towards me like last time. Fear fills my heart as he paces in my direction. I step backward in a futile attempt to keep the distance between us as large as possible.

“Ezekiel, you cannot escape me! I, Abaddon, have found you and will make you my vessel. I will continue to corrupt you and obliterate all interference; you will become my chariot, a shell. There is no saving you now!”

He reduces the distance between us in an instant. I flinch and glimpse upon the detail of his demonic features. Time slows as he raises the spear at his side, pointed towards me. His armed devilish limb rises in aim at my chest. I am frozen, bearing a slow witness to my doom all too similar to that of the knights before me. My metaphysical sweat swells on my brow and drips gradually. I cannot bring forth the courage to act fast enough, nor would it be possible to make any such attempt at this point. I am going to die. This is the terror of death. His muscles flex and harden with his thrust and the point comes into contact with my chest. A blinding light bursts out from the connection and I scream.

Zeke’s scream filled the dark room. He coughed and gasped in pure fear before he looked about and realized he was in bed, in his room. Leaning up against the bed rest, his legs folded into his chest. For a moment, he forgot to breathe as the safety of his room had escaped him. He was burning up and drenched with sweat. The boy began to whimper and tears welled up in his eyes. Now in fetal position, he fell sideways on the bed and shook, unable to stop. There would be no returning to sleep.

Five in the morning his consciousness returned to him. Six in the morning he finally physically moved to shower, forgetting the next steps and realizing minutes later to continue the routine. Seven in the morning he left the bathroom to clothe himself and eat, which he did little of, ignoring his parents’ words. Fortunately for him, they mostly didn’t require a response as he was barely aware enough to answer. Seven forty-five in the morning he left his house to complete the trio and begin to walk. Seven fifty-five they arrived at school, eight he entered his class and took his seat in time for class to begin. He breathed sharply, but was met with sudden strong and painful ringing in his ear. He tilted his head towards the ringing and pressed his hand hard against the aching ear, his face contorted to the throbbing. “Why again? Why now?” he questioned internally.

“Ezekiel…”

The ringing faded and his eyes melded forward, his mouth opened partly and he could feel his skin heat uncomfortably. He felt a prickling sensation leave his head and travel down his body. He mentally questioned if he was dreaming, fairly sure he was awake, there was no way the demon could reach him here in this state. Could he? He looked around the room slowly, some students paying attention to the lecture, others less so. The teacher continued to monologue as his attention moved forward after the tiny scan of his surroundings. He was beginning to question his health, until he heard the same whispers behind him begin just as he had settled down.

“…been acting odd all morning. What a weirdo! Look, is he crazy? The way he was pressing his ear and making those weird faces…” Zeke felt himself begin to sweat at such negative attention. All he wanted to do was for them to stop, or to leave, anything to get out of the situation, but it continued. “He was always so weird growing up. Even now he just got weirder.”

“Yeah, I don’t think there’s any helping him now. He’s such a freak…”

“Haha, Zeke the freak, Zeke the freak.” They giggled and mocked him. They couldn’t have been serious. Weren’t they all seniors? Didn’t they outgrow such ridicule? He couldn’t take it. He began to breathe hard and fast, almost to the point of hyperventilation.

“Oh, look at him, he’s freaking out. I guess he can hear us talk about what a loser he is.”

“Hey, careful or you might upset the freak.” Zeke felt a small pain in his eye, surely the result of a vein bursting. The pain only provoked his temper as his eyes began to water.

“Ugly people like him are better off never being born, he should just kill himself.”

“Enough. Too far.” Zeke slammed his desk and rose to his feet. As he stood, a demonic voice screamed from the deepest recesses of his mind.

“Kill them!”

In one instant, Zeke yelled to both the spontaneous voice within and to those behind him. “Shut up!” However, as he turned, it was apparent that no one was immediately behind him or even nearby enough for whispers to carry like they had. He turned back to the front and the entire class’ eyes met his, the teacher included.

The trip to the Principal’s office was a blur. Zeke was embarrassed, confused, his mentality crumbling as he continued to question and verify his senses. Although it was beneficial to be out of class for the time being, he felt that it was not the classroom that was so hostile towards him. Perhaps it was all himself, in which case, he had a lot more to be afraid of. He saw the office a bit ahead and was prepared to enter, but his ear began to ring again. He shook his head and smacked it a couple of times, thankfully helping it subside just as he noticed Ross leave the office. “Whoa, hey. What are you doing here?”

“Ah, I was caught flinging paper footballs across the room in class. Flicked one too many and the teacher had enough. Hey, forget the office, want to have some fun?” If Jo were here, she would certainly protest, but Zeke had a shivering fear well up inside him telling him that he needed to be with his friend right now, to ensure him of his sanity. “…Yeah, sure. That sounds good right now. What did you have in mind?”

“Hmm…you have any markers with you?” Zeke nodded, reached into his book bag, and pulled out a couple. “Good, let’s take a trip outside.” The two left through some side doors to the edge of the school and Ross uncapped a marker, beginning to draw on a window. “Don’t worry. It’ll wash off easy with this kind of marker. These don’t last long at all, unfortunately. Hey, keep an eye out for anyone, would you?” It was just as Jo said. This was just like Ross to make some typical mischief. It didn’t seem too dangerous since he did say the markers were weak. “The next person to pull the blinds up of this window is gonna see a giant T-Rex ready to bust in, haha!” The notion did seem fairly amusing to Zeke, but he hadn’t done something this underhanded before. The situation did make him a bit nervous as he kept lookout. It was then that his ear began to bother him again. He raised a hand and whapped it a couple times. After rubbing it a bit, he heard a bell. Lunch had started and people were leaving to go somewhere for the break. “We’d better go…” he thought and motioned for Ross to finish up. Ross signaled him to wait a minute as he made final touches. However, he knew they didn’t have much more time before…

“Ezekiel…”

Zeke felt his blood chill as the sunlight darkened above. He caught a beast flying in his peripheral. It travelled too rapidly for him to get a good glance, but he heard it land somewhere in the courtyard around the corner. “No. No no no no, there is no way. He can’t be here. He couldn’t have made it out.” Zeke’s thoughts swarmed as he began to panic. He pressed his body against the brick wall of the school. He could hear the thunderous steps of the demon around the corner. Beads of sweat formed on his brow as he turned to notice Ross was too fixated in his scribbling to notice anything. “We need to get out of here now.” He heard more booming steps and it sounded as if they were coming closer, nearing the corner. “We need to leave!”

“Sheesh, calm down. What’s with you?” Ross made a few more marks and finalized his work. “Were fine, no one’s-.” He was cut-off as the rumbling steps came closer and he pressed his body up against the wall with Zeke. He motioned to Zeke to cover his mouth, seeing that he began to hyperventilate. Zeke raised his hand up to his mouth instantaneously, following orders. The smashes neared closer and closer around the corner. Zeke almost peeked around the edge, but felt Ross’ hand on his shoulder. He looked at Ross who shook his head, instructing him not to peek. The steps came closer and altered, shrinking. As they passed the corner, Ross held Zeke back with his arm. A couple of students walked past the corner and fortunately didn’t look to their sides. Zeke stared at them, as they paced further from their position. It was only students walking and talking loudly? Zeke slid down the wall, as if he had just lost control of his legs. Ross hurried to pick him up. “Come on, you were over-reacting. Let’s go.” The two turned the corner and went back in the school towards the cafeteria to join Jo. Zeke couldn’t help but question his sanity, his very safety, even with his friends.

“Hey, you weren’t in class when I stopped by. What happened?” Jo interrogated Ross as the two arrived to meet her.

“Ehh, I got into trouble making paper footballs and flicked them around. Was on my way to the office but ran into Zeke. We decided to have some fun instead.” Jo looked towards Zeke, a bit of question and concern in her eyes. She knew what kind of stuff Ross found †˜fun.’ She left it alone and the three took their regular seats. Zeke got up to get in the lunch line as usual but felt Jo’s critical eyes stabbing into his back. Lunch progressed normally—and thankfully—yet mostly silently. The bell rang for the end of the break and the three got up to leave. They entered the hallway together, but Ross had to part first to leave for his class. The two travelled together in silence for a bit until they arrived at Zeke’s classroom door. Zeke begrudgingly took a step at the classroom, determined to take a seat at the back of the room, but he heard Jo’s voice call him.

“Zee, hold up.” He turned his head at her and she beckoned him back, which he complied. She looked down, determined to get out what she was about to say as perfectly and gently as possible. “You’ve been acting very strange these past couple of days. Maybe I’m just overanalyzing, but if something’s wrong, you know you can talk to me, right? Ross is cool and all, but he’s only going to get you in trouble if you go along with him. Listen…There’s a test coming up in your class on Friday, so why don’t we study a bit tonight? I’ll come over to your place and we can go over practice problems and stuff. Your…your parents would be fine with that, right? I mean, if you want to, I won’t force you…” At first, Zeke didn’t know how to respond. Jo looked downward and turned a shade redder. It was likely to him that if he accepted, she might be able to keep him sane for the evening. It really seemed like reality was phasing in and out of logically standard motions. He knew she could calm him down. If Ross couldn’t then she would be able to help him through this for even just a little while.
“Yeah…Yeah, definitely, I would love to! That would be best…I think.” It had occurred to him that he was being a bit eager. He felt his cheeks flush and so he rubbed the back of his head. “Umm, how’s seven o’clock sound?” Jo was beaming as her smiling face turned aglow.

“Great! Be ready to cram, okay? I have to hurry now, or I’ll be late. See ya!” She turned and her golden hair flared behind her.

“Hopefully,” Zeke thought, “hopefully she can keep me safe.” The afternoon classes passed in due time and the three walked back from school, however Zeke had grown paranoid of anything that should hinder the remainder of his day.

“See you later, Zee, alright?” Jo called after him as he meandered down his front path. He turned to her and nodded.

“Whoa, you two meeting up later without me? What’s the deal, huh? No way am I gonna let you two love-birds have some alone time. I’m no third wheel!” Jo smacked Ross’ arm and looked sternly at him as the two walked away. Shaking his head, Zeke entered his home, greeted his mother, and eliminated his nightly chores ahead of time. His father returned and his family had dinner, just as usual. “Mom, Dad. I’m going to have a friend come over in a bit to help me study for a test on Friday. That should be okay, right?”

“Oh, sure. It’s good to know you’re preparing properly for school…” The conversation with his father trailed off to the importance of preparation and studies, since he had to test and apply for universities soon. That, unfortunately, was the least of his concerns these days. Just as he finished eating, his ear began to ring again. He placed his face in his palm and weaved his hand through the hair above his forehead. He had to see a doctor about this, in addition to other more obvious things. “Are you alright, son?”

“Um, yeah. It’s nothing. Just-” Zeke’s worries were cut short as he heard tapping at the door. “Ah, that’s her knocking. Please excuse me.” The father gave his wife a questionable look or two. †˜Her?’ he mouthed silently. Zeke’s mother shook her head and patted her husband’s hand reassuring his concern. Zeke answered the door and there Jo stood with her book bag ready to go. “Hey,” he said abruptly, “thanks for helping me, I really appreciate it.” He stepped aside for her to come in. She entered and courteously took off her shoes. “I’ve already set up a nice study table for us in my room. Mom, Dad! We’ll be in my room studying.” They passed by briefly on the way to Zeke’s room and his parents’ gaze followed his movements, and then looked to each other in silence after he passed.

Jo wandered down the hallway Zeke led her through, eyeing pictures on walls and other interesting things. They turned into his room and a card table was set up with a couple seats and Zeke’s books already there from before. It didn’t take long for the two to settle and begin analyzing problems. “Now, these kinds always trip me up. Maybe I’m not doing them right.” Jo waved them off as no big deal, once one knew the method. She began to show him a more appropriate way and things seemed to piece together for him. Zeke felt very calm and collected, focused on the task at hand, all distractions eliminated. It was a soothing paradise, this little space in time. She truly was a protector of sorts and it made him thankful that she was there to help him, in exponentially greater ways than she likely knew. However, the evening could not last forever.

“It’s about time I got going. This was good, though. Isn’t this a lot better than doing whatever stupid thing with Ross?” Zeke looked at his paper, at all the completed problems. She was right, but he could hear the sting of jealousy in her words. Clearly as his friend and a stellar student herself, she wanted to help him as best she could, but it was apparent that they hadn’t done something like this until he had gone along with Ross. Maybe she was indeed envious of the attention. It was subtle enough to ignore, however. Whatever it was that she aided him with, it was surely shielding him from those negative delusions. At least, that is what he wanted to believe. Jo stood up and collected her things, preparing her departure while Zeke looked sullen. “Hey, it was helpful, right? Unless there’s—unless it’s something else?” She eyed him from above as he looked down at nothing in particular. She could see right through him.

“It’s just-” For a moment, he debated if he should tell her, and if he did, how much. A part of him wanted to confess everything: His dreams, his delusions, his nightmares, and the demon—Abaddon, he called himself. A battle waged in his mind of whether or not to continue, to say anything. As he tossed the idea in his head, a deep black fear pierced all notions of admittance. “She will think I’m crazy. A nutcase. She’d become scared of me, or maybe mock me like those whispers did.” All these raging thoughts occurred in a maelstrom of mental cognizance. In actuality, it was mere seconds. “Never mind, it’s dumb. I’m probably just stressed out about the test, so thanks for helping me.” Zeke forced a smile. Jo saw and reflected a bit of it, but he could tell that a part of her noticed how transparent he was being. He got up and saw her to the front door when she retrieved all her items and placed them within her book bag. She turned, giving him a shining smile.

“You’ll be alright, Zee. I believe in you.” Zeke could tell just how genuine those words were, almost as if she already knew everything and still had faith in him. He thanked her and closed the door gently when she turned and paced away. He stood at the door for a moment, attempting to embed those words into his mind. He turned around and walked down the entrance way passed the kitchen where his mother was packing items away.

“Zeeky…How did it go?” She was slightly hesitant, but seemed as if she was trying to avoid a bigger question. He told her it was helpful and that Jo helped him see the problems he was having in a new light. She looked at her son in both eyes and cupped his head with her hands. “I’m really worried about you. You seem so out of it lately. Is everything alright?” Here was a second chance to confess everything, but he brushed it aside because of embarrassment and pulled her arms off of him.

“Mom, I said don’t call me †˜Zeeky,’ and…Yeah, I’m just really stressed because of the test coming up.” There was a genuine concern in her eyes, but she let it be. “Anyways, I’m tired. I think I’ll go to bed now. Good night, Mom.” She let him walk off towards his room, but Zeke had a feeling he would not be getting any sleep tonight.

Three in the morning came and he was exhausted, but Zeke was determined not to go to sleep in fear that anything should prove Jo’s words wrong. He sat at his desk in meditation, staying awake through sheer willpower alone. However, it could have only been fear driving his ambition. He attempted various tactics to keep himself awake, pinch stimuli and the like, anything to keep himself from descending to that nightmarish battlefield. The entire house was dead silent and dark, asides from his room. His parents had been asleep for a long while, but he pressed on towards the morning, the distant sounds of taunting laughter in the recesses of his mind.

Morning at last, Zeke watched the sunrise slowly make its ascent. He initiated his morning traditions as normal, the shower assisting him in staying conscious. He had breakfast with his parents when the time came and left shortly after. He opened the front door and walked out, the direct sunlight hurting his tired eyes. However, his friends were there to greet him, and he felt strengthened by Jo’s presence. The three went off to school, and Zeke prayed that he would last. When they arrived and traversed to class, Zeke entered and took a seat at the very back corner of the classroom where he could see everything. He felt safe and secure and sat quietly as the teacher’s morning lessons droned on. The overbearing urge to rest was upon him, but he was determined. He rested his elbow on the desk and his head on his hand to balance it up. No matter what, he had to stay awake, or he knew disastrous things would occur. He eyed the teacher as he spoke and pointed to a lesson he chalked up on the board. He blinked hard a few times in efforts to stay awake, until the ringing returned in a painful reunion. It was perhaps his most sore headache so far, and yet he was thankful for it that it kept him awake. He clutched his head from the continuous throbbing. He now wasn’t so thankful for it.

In due time, the ringing in his ears suddenly halted and Zeke breathed heavily in relief. He looked up to try and listen to the teacher’s lesson, but it was for naught. In his unexplainable confusion, the teacher was not moving or talking. Everyone in the class stared straight ahead, not addressing his silence. The classroom shifted a darker purplish shade and it seemed as if time stopped. Zeke got up and walked slowly. His footsteps made heavy echoes in the room. He looked at all the faces of the students and saw their lifeless countenance simply staring. As he moved to the front row and watched as all the faces seemed to stare at him, he swallowed hard in fear and confusion. “What…What is…happening?” He spoke out to himself, but his words slurred and garbled in the air. The classroom and students began to wave and shift back and forth, in an almost ethereal manner. He turned slowly to look at the teacher again, but was met face-to-face with his greatest fear: Abaddon.

“Ezekiel…Your futile attempt to escape me was amusing. Now—face your fate!”

The demon’s beastly and muscular arm stretched outward. Zeke wanted to shirk back, to flee, but his legs would not listen. He was frozen in place. Abaddon’s massive, calloused hand clutched his face and the touch seared in pain. His vision melted and exploded in a red light. He could see nothing but crimson as he felt himself spiraling out of control. A fear welled up inside him that he could not contain. Zeke began to scream as the dizziness rose. He slowed to a stationary point and felt his feet squish on ground. His sight returned to him, fading into physicality slowly. A familiar red landscape surrounded him. He was at the battlefield of his dreams and nightmares. Skeletal remains in breastplates and chainmail littered the ground. Some with clumps of flesh rotting right from the bone. It was as if he descended into Hell itself. The grass blades were red with blood, so much blood. Zeke was in the middle of a clearing from the bodies, and they parted a pathway towards the fogged distance. The fog was red and smoke-like, but it was clear he had to travel down the path cleared through the bodies. He took a step, and then managed two, hearing the squish of mud beneath his feet with each press. After his third, it suddenly occurred to him that the ground was not muddy and soaked from rain, but the blood spilled from this slaughter had soaked into the very earth beneath his feet. Zeke swallowed nervously, but his legs continued to move down the path.

The sky was a hellish scarlet, as if the rapture had come. As he progressed down the path, he heard the flickering sounds of flames burning. The fog lifted and he was in the streets of his neighborhood, all the homes aflame as embers whisked in the air. Zeke sweat profusely, whether from the heat or the anxiety. These houses looked familiar and he knew he was inevitably arriving home. His house appeared on the side of the street, set ablaze like all the rest. Fear struck his heart and he charged up his lawn to the front door, banging in a futile attempt that his parents would open it. He called out to them but there was no answer. He fiddled with the doorknob and found it unlocked. The door blasted open with a massive shove. “Mom! Dad!” His words echoed and phased in a twisted state. He darted inside while the fire torched his home to charcoal. Zeke bolted down the hall towards the living room where they usually sat to watch television, only to find his parents' clothed remains in their favorite seats, skeletal and rotting, just like the knights, just like the rest. “No,” he screamed, lengthening the call as he collapsed to his knees. His eyes watered and tears streamed down his cheeks. His hands rose to his head and he clutched the sides of his face. His head shook in defiance. “No no no no no no no, this can’t be real, it can’t. I want to get out of here. Leave me alone! Get out of my head, get out!” his screams of terror became almost carnal and inhuman. He sobbed and whimpered, shaking and frightened. He choked and coughed; his tormented mind was about to break.

“Zeke!” Zeke’s ears perked and he sniffed back mucus. “Zeeky-boy, where are you?” That voice was Ross’, but where was he and how did he get here? “Zeeky!” The voice was coming from his room. He fought to get onto his wobbling legs and stumbled down the hall to his door. He opened it and saw Ross spin around at his entrance. Zeke fell in while Ross ran up and caught him. “Listen to me, buddy. You have to get out of here.” No matter that his friend said that, he had no knowledge of how to escape this world. A rumbling made the two shake, but they held on harder.

“Astaroth…”

Ross looked about, but returned to Zeke. “He’s coming, get out of here and don’t let him take you back.” There was so much confusion about the situation. Zeke had no idea what he meant or how to accomplish it. The rumbling got stronger and an enormous dark arm shattered the window to his room on entry. The two stared at the beastly arm as the fingers stretched, revealing long talons, muscles, and pulsing tendons, all exaggerated far beyond anything natural. Ross shoved Zeke back just in time as one of the claws pierced his abdomen from behind. Blood sprayed ahead of him and dripped out of the hole punctured by finger and claw. Zeke yelled out for his friend, extending an arm for him to grab.

“You would dare betray me, Astaroth? Were you not there to corrupt him as well, in your own miserable way?”

Ross clenched his teeth and swatted Zeke’s hand away. “What are you doing? Get out of here! I’ll be fine. I’ll be-” The room began to quake. Ross’ words jumbled as his eyes rolled back into his head until only the whites could be seen. Blood poured forth from the sockets and he began foaming at the mouth, which also began to drip a darker, almost black shade of red. His teeth gnashed and he roared out. “Get out of here!” Zeke yelled out in horror and fear from the grotesque image. He tore his way out the room and slammed against a hallway wall. The entire house began quaking and crumbling, as if the entire foundation was about to give way. Zeke darted for dear life down the hallway that seemed to stretch and grow with each step. He turned the final corner towards the front door which shone and rippled pure white. There was no time to question or think, he had to take a leap of faith and forced his legs as fast as they would carry him. His arms extended out as his legs sprinted the final steps, screaming as the building began to swallow itself in an attempt to keep him there. As he dove through the portal screaming, he felt time and space distort around him.

The white and hazy surroundings of this new plain twisted and spun. Zeke screamed out and found himself on a bed with white sheets. Various medical supplies lined the shelves and counter ahead of him on the other side of the room. There was a draft from a window that made him shiver, chilling his drenched face. “Are you alright?” A voice approached from around the edge of a curtain. A man, the school nurse, peeked over. Zeke gathered his bearings, now knowing he was in the school infirmary, nodded and asked the nurse what he was doing here. “Well, you passed out during morning session out of exhaustion, it seems. You just needed some time to rest, so you were brought here. You didn’t even wake up during the process. You should really avoid staying up late so this doesn’t happen, you know…” The nurse lost Zeke’s attention, the heavy burden of what had just occurred weighing down on his mind, and perhaps his soul. “…So, here are some crackers if you need energy. If you feel up to it, you should go home. Your teachers have been notified and you can be dismissed for the day to catch up on some sleep.” Zeke ran his fingers through his hair, trying to focus on his environment, making sure it was legitimate. He nodded and thanked the nurse as he got out of the bed, noticing from the clock in the room that it was lunch time. Pacing down the hallway towards the cafeteria, he knew that he had to visit his friends. Ross found him in his dream somehow, or maybe he was in there by his own fabricating imagination. He had to see them to be certain.

The cafeteria was packed as usual; it was the middle of lunch. Zeke walked swiftly through groups of people to reach the table he always ate at with his friends. However, he was met with a group of male students who had decided to eat there. Jo and Ross were nowhere in sight. He had to ask them about it. “Hey, did you see a guy and a girl here? They usually eat at this table with me during lunch…” The group of about half a dozen looked at him critically, a dangerous look on their faces.

“Get away from us, freak. We’re eating here, and no one’s seen your stupid imaginary friends.” Zeke attempted to analyze what the guy just said. He gave it a second or two and opened his mouth to speak in question, but was shoved back. “Go somewhere else, we were here first. Go eat alone like you usually do since you have no friends, loser.” Zeke stumbled backward and stared at them, unsure of what to make of what was happening. He was so confused, he had to go. His eyes trailed away and he turned towards the cafeteria main doors and left. What did they mean, †˜imaginary friends’ and †˜eating alone?’ That wasn’t right; he was with them every day. They made memories together. Those guys must surely have been a trick by Abaddon, planted there to confuse him. Zeke rapidly walked out the doors and then ran down the hallway. He ran to the exit of the school and bolted out. Running down the streets, he gasped for air and collapsed on his knees, his hands firmly holding onto them for support. He thought for a moment, looked up at all the houses, trying to think about where Jo or Ross’ homes were. He didn’t know. They always picked him up and dropped him off since he was the closest to school. He had no idea where to go to confirm his worries. “Where are they?”

Zeke meandered homeward and saw his house, same as usual, decoration-less just like yesterday. After a minute of staring at it, he wondered along the front path and stood at the front door. His hand hovered over the doorknob, wanting to turn and enter but stopped by his own fear. It took a moment to gather the courage, but he finally twisted it and opened the unlocked door. He entered slowly and swallowed some spit that gathered in the forefront of his mouth. Closing the door and taking off his shoes, he walked past the entrance way towards the living room, unsure of what awaited him. The sounds of the television entered into his hearing as he got closer. As the living room entered vision, he saw his mother there in her favorite chair, mending clothes and watching a soap opera absentmindedly. “Oh, Zeeky! Are you okay? The school nurse called and said you collapsed in class.” She got up and walked over to her son, hugging him tightly. He was unsure what to make of the situation. There were so many confusing dead ends today, but here was Mom, alive and well. Alive. Thank Heaven, alive. He held her tightly without saying a word. She was a little shocked, as he was growing distant as of late, however here he was clutching to her. “Why would you go collapsing from exhaustion, I thought you went to bed early?” She asked the question somewhat rhetorically and just held him back. “You should sit down and have some lunch, I’ll prepare something.” She parted and left him for the kitchen, getting out some items and gathering ingredients. He sat down in his mother’s chair, still warm from her sitting in it. He was content for the moment, but so many unanswered questions hanged in his mind.

Zeke’s mother returned with a small lunch, a sandwich and a glass of juice. He took it and ate slowly, his mind wandering with every delayed bite. She sat down in her husband’s chair since Zeke was in hers. “Is it good? Did you come right back here after you woke up?” He nodded in response to her first question, but appeared melancholy at the second.

“No. I tried to find my friends in the cafeteria at lunch, but they weren’t where we usually sit. One of them was the girl from last night, Jo.” Zeke’s mother looked downward, almost like she didn’t know how to respond, but something forced its way out eventually.

“Zeeky…Zeke, you,” she hesitated, unsure of the effect of what she was going to say. “You weren’t with anyone last night. You…answered the door and came back alone. I think we should see someone about this, though it’s been hard thinking of how to tell you or how serious this is…” Her voice trailed off, continuing to speak but Zeke lost focus. What was she talking about? What was going on with the world, what was happening? Those guys at the cafeteria were one thing, but now his mother? Abaddon was truly corrupting his entire world. Who was to say he woke up at all? It was all the work of that demon. He wished there was a way to fight him in equal footing, but it was apparent the beast had control over his entire reality, bending it, the way he perceived it. Now he took Zeke’s friends, wiped them from existence, captured Jo like he did Ross and is holding them captive in his dreams. He wanted them freed, for them to spend time together like they always had, but he was afraid. He never had to stand up for something so important in his life, but if he wanted to have his normal life again, he had to face the demon again and retake lucid control over his subconscious. How he would accomplish such a feat, he did not yet know.

A few hours passed and Zeke sat in his room, drawing out the images in the dreams, attempting to understand them in order to gain control. He continued to sketch the settings over and over again until dinner time after his father returned, all the while the maniacal laughter of the dark nightmares echoing from within, screeching to get out. Dinner was set up and his mother called him. He sat down with his parents, silently thankful to see his father as normal. The three ate and his mother summarized what happened to Zeke in school and how he returned. She appeared very serious and laid her hand on the father’s, explaining that Zeke couldn’t find his friends today, one of them being the girl from last night. Zeke’s father looked to him with somber features. “Zeke, tell me about these friends.” Zeke fiddled with some food, uncomfortable with the attention, not knowing what next trick the devil had up his sleeve.

“They’re Ross and Jo, I met them this year and we’ve spent a lot of time together at school. We meet outside and walk to school every morning since the year started, and we walk back every afternoon, too.” He eyed his father, awaiting a response. His father’s eyes shifted to his mother’s and then returned to him.

“Zeke…We’ve never seen you leave here with anyone. You should stop this imaginary friend act.” His mother clutched harder onto his father, her face telling him to be at ease, but he continued all the same. “You’re going to be eighteen tomorrow. It’s your birthday, remember? Maybe you’re just afraid of growing up, but you will have to grow up sooner or later.” Zeke felt dizzy, he didn’t expect this from his father. The demon had infected the world so subtly; it was as if he had no friends at all. His ear began ringing painfully and he clutched it crying out. He got up from the table and stumbled to his room, despite the faded and distant voices of his parents calling after him. He shut the door behind him and slumped down in bed, hoping the throbbing in his head would stop. He clung at his hair, pulling and yanking, feeling the follicles sting as they clutched tightly to his scalp. His mother knocked on his door, calling his name. “Leave me alone, I need to be alone!” A handful of seconds later and Zeke’s mother regrettably returned to the kitchen, unable to stir her son. Zeke sprawled out in bed as the throbbing subsided. He breathed hard to calm himself, until a hauntingly familiar voice entered his mind.

“Ezekiel, you cannot resist. Succumb to my control, and I may free your compatriots from my clutches.”

Zeke stared at his ceiling, open-mouthed in astonishment. “Get out of my head, get out of my life. Go somewhere else and never come back.” He stood up from the bed and paced to his desk.

“I will not! You are mine and I will direct you at whim…Whether you choose to or until I break the will from you.”

Zeke sat at his desk and continued to draw out the scenes he experienced in his dreams, attempting to ignore the voice and discover a way to combat the demon. He drew them over and over. When he finished one, he tore it out of the notepad and drew it again, or another scene. The voice of Abaddon mocked him from deep within an alcove in his mind. The monster was right there, as if over his shoulder whispering curses directly into his ear. He couldn’t run, he couldn’t hide. The creature was within himself, demanding him to be let out, to use him like an automaton with no willpower of its own. Zeke shivered as pricks traveled down his back, but continued to draw until he felt himself lull into a trance.

The paper he drew on flew off the pad rapidly as he finished sketched scenes. His room bent and turned, the desk contorted under his arms. He set down his pencil and looked at his room. Everything twisted and turned hues of purple and green. Zeke swallowed the gathering saliva in his mouth. He heard chattering around him, impish babbling. The door to his room grew larger and pulsed with force. He saw shadows creep behind the lights that shone beneath the door from the hallway. Abaddon was coming, preparing to strike at him within his haven. There was no true protection here. The only chance Zeke had was to surprise him and burst forth. He held his hand on the doorknob and forced the door open where two titans of swirling hues loomed over him. He took in air and held his breath, dashed out of his room between the two and headed for the front door. “Ezekiel,” they called out to him in a sluggish manner befitting giants. He would not stop for them, not mere agents of Abaddon. Arriving at the front door, he unbolted it and forced it open. The outside world of Abaddon’s domain over his mentality was revealed, black as night and the ruby light of a harvest moon bled into the environs. Zeke halted for only a moment until he heard the calls of the colossal beings behind him. He took off immediately down the front yard, the blackest blades of grass beneath his feet. If Zeke’s friends were here in this realm, he had a feeling he knew where Abaddon would hide them, in the place he spent the most with them. He ran towards the school.

The eerie, bloody twilight of the moon bounced off the castle-like walls of the institute of education. Zeke scurried to the courtyard and then the front doors; he yanked on them to find that they were locked, to no surprise. “Damn it!” he cursed and kicked at the door. Hearing viscous laughter and the cries for help of his friends from above, he looked up and saw a glowing light emanating from the roof. There was Abaddon and surely with his companions. Thinking fast, he dashed around the side of the school, past the window where Ross had inscribed his graffiti T-rex. It was gone, cleaned by a janitor or—more likely—removed by Abaddon, tampering with reality to remove all trace of his friends. He put it aside and jogged towards the back of the school. The trash dumpster in the lot was against the wall, if he jumped onto it and leapt towards the roof, he could climb higher to the center of the building where Abbadon held his friends captive. Zeke hesitated no more and enacted his plan of action, climbing atop the waste receptacle and leaping onto the fortifications of the building. The amber glow directed towards the highest roof platform. Using a vent as a boost, he climbed onto a higher plateau, then a higher one he could reach after that. Catching his breath, Zeke paused before the final elevation. He had to be totally prepared, though he was not armed with weapon or wit. The only thing he possessed was his instinct, and if Abaddon fully corrupted him, he wouldn’t even have that.

Zeke clutched the edge of the final peak and pulled himself up. As he raised himself, he made out the demonic figure, there waiting for him. His friends were nowhere in sight. The demon bellowed a sinister chuckle at seeing this boy follow his bait, knowing his every move, knowing his deepest thoughts and worries. He could sense the subtle fear, and he reveled in it. Zeke had to admit he expected Abaddon would employ such trickery, but he did not know what else to do. “Where are they, Abaddon? What have you done with my friends?” The demon exhaled sharply and black fumes escaped his nostrils.

“Astaroth cannot interfere anymore, his selfishness was his downfall. He should not have got in my way. Jophiel was difficult to affect, simply from her divine purity. However, she cannot set foot in my realm, lest she taint herself. She will not be able to protect you now.”

Anger burned deep within Zeke. The more Abaddon spoke, the more enraged he became. Astaroth? Jophiel? Zeke did not know why Abaddon used such names, but they were not what he knew his friends as. As stupid and pitiful as it seemed, Zeke clenched his teeth, then charged at the brute, raising his tightened fist. Abaddon laughed and raised his arm high. Zeke was met with a strong backhand. The brawny strike hit him hard and he was sent flying. He rolled across the roof and struggled to force himself up. Abbadon’s smirk left his lips and he summoned forth a spear from a flash of flame in his hand. The tip burned with an intense pyre.

“Enough of this, Ezekiel, your effort is wasted. Submit yourself to me and you shall live.”

Zeke shook his head, despite being frightened from the devil’s response. Abaddon frowned and tossed a spear towards Zeke in lightning speed. Zeke rolled out of the way in a miraculous instant, the spear landed behind him and chipped away at the concrete of the roof. He instinctively clutched the spear to retrieve the weapon. It singed his hands, but he raised it up and darted towards the demon. Abaddon summoned forth another spear and spun it in circles. Zeke thrust at the beast’s chest, but he parried the strike with a strong spin, sending Zeke’s spear flying. Zeke watched distantly as his only weapon was cast aside by the powerful blow. Abaddon used this distraction and made his counter, slashing Zeke’s battle arm. Zeke cried out in pain as blood sprayed out from the wound, but was immediately cauterized from the heat of the slash. The demon did not halt and slashed Zeke’s thigh, raising a darker squeal of anguish from the boy. Zeke fell to the ground and banged his head on the concrete. He saw stars line the sky and the blood red moon shine before Abaddon blocked his vision, raising his burning spear up above the boy’s body and burying it within his abdomen. An unbelievably intense pain spread itself out through his body from the way his stomach was pierced. The pain was doubled as the monster ripped it out through the same wound, the spearhead catching on Zeke’s innards. His pain was intolerable, but the demon did not let up as he kicked the body of the boy across the roof until it crashed against the elevated edge. It seemed over for Zeke, he barely managed to stay conscious.

Summoning the last bit of strength within him, Zeke lifted himself onto the guarded edge of the roof to sit up. He grasped the wound on his stomach. It tore and opened as he stood, bent over. Blood dripped out and he felt himself become faint. He lined his gaze up with Abaddon’s who just stared back at him.

“If you submit yourself, I can heal your wound, Ezekiel. I can make you as strong as you desire and give you the power to destroy all adversaries. The only price is your eternal servitude.”

Zeke vomited up some blood and bile. He could not believe he was sustaining such damage, but this is what he asked for by battling a demon in hand-to-hand combat, something he had no experience with in real life, nor would he likely have stood a chance if he had against such brute strength. Pondering over the words Abaddon spoke out, he thought of his friends, and his parents. He would never let Abaddon destroy those he held so dear. He began to chuckle, though it hurt him much to do so. Abaddon was not so amused. “You need me to carry forth your plans, you monster…I’ll never let you have me.” Zeke dribbled out some more blood from his lips. “If I meet my friends in whatever place of non-existence they’ve been sent, then your plans are ruined. Go find someone else to haunt. I’m…done with you and all this.”

As his final words left his lips, Zeke fell backwards off the highest roof above the front doors of the school. Time, in that instant, slowed immeasurably. He felt gravity pull him off the side. The unholy demon’s bellows of defiance boomed as he dove for his tool. Zeke fell off the edge head-first, bright and flaring lights alternating between red and blue atop white carriages beamed at him from the front courtyard. Their sirens wailed, but the cavalry of his army arrived too late. Blurry images of his dear parents were among them, he silently bid them farewell.

The school bell chimed out the midnight hour, signifying the entrance into the eighteenth anniversary of Zeke’s birth. It was fitting that he should become a man before his death. Suddenly, a supreme blast of white light burst forth from the air, opening a portal. A slender figure dove out and sped towards the falling man. Enormous white wings protruded from the back of the figure. As it sped closer to Zeke in midair, its features became more apparent. “Jo...?” He mouthed as her shining gold hair rippled behind her. She extended an arm to catch onto his foot, but suddenly stopped without the ability to go any further. Abaddon caught her ankle with a blazing whip. He roared with intensity, bearing his fangs. Jo let out tears as she desperately tried to fly further, to no avail. Zeke felt the calm of her presence before looking downward at his demise mere feet away. The roar of the demon, the cry of an angel, the gasp of the cavalry, and the scream of his parents were all that he sensed before his head met the pavement of the courtyard. His vision turned crimson and then faded to black.

Nothing. There was absolutely nothing. Zeke hovered in a world of darkness, eyes shut. He slowly opened them and felt as if in a dark room where nothing awaited to be seen. He felt underwater, hovering but unable to go anywhere. Hearing a soft sobbing above him, he blinked a few times before investigating. He looked up to see Jo, crouched and hovering, wearing a robe as pure white as the wings extending from her back. A golden disk brightly shined above her somber head. “Jo…What’s wrong?” he asked, but no sound came from his mouth. She opened her weeping eyes as if she heard him regardless, and responded.

“Ezekiel...I was too late to save you. It was my job to lead you on the right path, to protect you, and look what has befallen you. It’s all my fault.” Although she was also muted, he understood her as well. He simply smiled at her gently and hoped it would calm her like her presence did for him.

“Please don’t cry for me. I’m not sure there was anything you could do. I think…I think things had to end up this way. Wherever I am, it is better than being his.” Zeke did not say his name, wishing to forget it, but his words only made her sob harder. He felt sad at her response, but this entire situation was so morbid, and he had no idea what would happen to him.

“It’s the opposite, I’m afraid.” A masculine force entered Zeke’s mind, leading downward, below him. It was Ross, here to join the two of them. He looked up at Zeke with scarlet eyes. His skin was even more tanned, and pointed horns poked out from his forehead. A black spearheaded tail under him whipped back and forth. “Ezekiel, whatever path was in store for you that we were supposed to guide you on was obliterated when that demon entered the picture. And now, he has claimed your soul, as you’ve taken your own life.” Zeke didn’t understand, but it was too late to change anything.

“But…I killed myself so that he wouldn’t use me to hurt others. If my soul is damned for that, I don’t mind, knowing the alternative.” Jo continued to weep for the fallen.

“He wasn’t intending to control you, Ezekiel. He couldn’t control you; he could only manipulate your thoughts and perceptions. This was his aim from the beginning. Now that you’ve taken your life under his influence, he has claimed your soul.” All Zeke’s feelings of contentment drifted out of him in that instant. Jo’s tears rightfully shed. He began to feel fear creep back in as his two friends drifted further and further from him. Zeke called out to them both not to leave, but Ross just shook his head. “It’s time for us to go, Ezekiel. I’m sorry, but there’s nothing we can do. I just wish we knew sooner.” With those final words said, the two turned from Zeke. Ross descended downward into the dark abyss, while Jo flew upwards, her form breaking into millions of flying sparks as she flew higher, until her body scattered and dissipated. Zeke called out to them both in futile attempts. They were gone.

Fear filled Zeke’s heart again and he looked around at the eternal darkness. Rising forth from near his feet were dozens of rotting skeletons, their bones in many different hues of green. They were in chainmail, plated armor, simple clothes of all sorts from many different cultures. These poor souls were surely previous victims, all taken. They exhumed from the darkness and let out carnal screams, grabbing onto Zeke’s legs and pulling at him. He tried to yell out in fear with a voice that would not scream, but it was useless. He could not drift higher and the skeletal hands pulled him down into a dark portal by which he feared he would never escape. It was no doubt a place where these souls were caged and never allowed to leave. Soon, he would be just like them, and that scared him the most of all. As he was half-way in, struggling in terror to stay out, a dark and brooding voice crept itself way into the deepest, darkest place within him, preluded with demonic laughter. As the voice passed, Zeke fell through, never to escape this ethereal prison.

“Happy birthday, Ezekiel. May this Halloween last for all eternity…"

---

So, this piece had several concept ideas originally, a lot of which used elements I had to research a lot of information for, mostly that I decided to scrap due to insufficient understanding. I'm very happy I went through with it, though, because the idea to skip it entirely and just not submit anything admittedly crossed my mind a few times. I'm very glad I didn't, though, because this ended up sweeping me up and off my feet to write for. I really enjoyed writing this concept.

Fun fact, it was initially going to be named Prophet, after Ezekiel, the proclaimed prophet who experienced near hallucinogenic prophecies, which I based Zeke off of, but it was about partway through that I learned that I was essentially rewriting a modernized version of The Pilgrim's Progress, a religious classic that I honestly did not know the existence of prior to this story. Obviously, there are differences, and for that I am happy because I wanted to maintain some sense of originality in the story concept, but the similarity is amusing. I renamed it to A Modern Pilgrim in that story's honor, since there was in fact no prophesying going on in this story at all, so to title this story Prophet is a tad irrelevant.

Fun fact #2, this story is the second one I've submitted in a row where the main character kills himself. Funny, that.

Statistics:

19 pages single-spaced and 12,396 words reported in Microsoft Word 2007
Took a month to conceptualize until finish and a week to write on/off, laziness and procrastination included

Wish my school did this. We got in trouble for conking out in the middle of class instead. Not trying to be sarcastic. I really do wish my high school was more lenient.



If she's so concerned about him, why didn't his mom go to school to pick him up?



Why does Zeke never question what those plans are or why the demon is so interested in Zeke anyway?



Knew what sooner? Abaddon stated Jo and Ross were giving him trouble and were possibly the primary reason he couldn't get to Zeke sooner so it's not as if they were unaware of Abaddon's presence since they were fighting him. Both Jo and Ross confirm this, and state they were there to guide him on the right path, and they've been with him for nearly the whole school year. Was Zeke already too far into Abaddon's clutches by the beginning of the school year? I just think this sentence is stupid and should be deleted.

Other than the things above, this is definitely on the long side. Roughly, I think you have enough words for about 40 pages of book. Having said that, I did enjoy it, and the mind fucks. I like stories that play with reality. This would probably get my pick for the best of the entries if that means anything. I haven't read deathgod's yet though.

I never really passed out from exhaustion in high school, so I'm not sure what mine would have done. If it was from pulling an all-nighter, I doubt they would have been happy either.



This was definitely considered, but the cafeteria and fleeing scene were needed to display his rejection of the apparent truths being revealed to him.



A good question, if I were to empathize with Zeke, I would probably imagine he had enough on his plate just trying to understand what was even happening to him in the first place. Since you might figure he came from a religious upbringing, of which I purposely did not go into depth, the view of why a demon, or a possession occurs, is not something one could logically receive a satisfactory answer to. Some demons merely exist to corrupt life, to carry out whatever plan they desire. For all that Zeke knew, all Abaddon wanted was to control his soul in order to hurt people like he tried to have him do in one of his earlier hallucinations.



Yes, about Abaddon's presence within Zeke's subconscious. Although they did combat to a small and rather pathetic degree, as evident by Ross' rather quick demise in Zeke's dream, it was obvious that Abaddon had rooted too far and became too powerful to defeat, bending the dimensions of the dream to his will. Jo never got to directly confront Abaddon because it was too late. Zeke had several opportunities to confess the obscure dreams he was having to his friends, or his family, but he opted not to share that information because he was afraid of how they would change their perceptions of him, and possibly desert him if he admitted it. Not confiding in his friends who were supposed to be his protectors served to be his ultimate downfall. His dreams had been tainted too far for Jo to enter and help him, and still stay pure. The only reason Ross could attempt what he could, which was to get to Zeke to try and convince him to leave the dream (which he was unaware of because of passing out and the blending of his dream and reality), was because Ross was a devil (which is really only revealed at the end) and thus used to such unholy atmospheres. Jo admitted she was supposed to lead Zeke on the right path, but Ross only mentions that they were both supposed to lure him on a certain specific path. One would think of Jo like the good and orderly conscious, and Ross like the evil and chaotic one, as evident from their behavior, but Abaddon was a different element entirely. One of selfishness, power-hunger, and violence, not an angel or a devil supposed to lead one on a path, but to corrupt a soul for his own sadistic gain. I could have explained this more clearly than settling for the small dialogue from Abaddon and Ross, but I wanted the story to be more from Zeke's perspective in an effort to convey a more creepy story-telling tactic, and he just simply wouldn't have known these things. I absolutely loved thinking about the concept, though.



Yes, thank you kindly for reading it in its entirety. I honestly didn't expect anyone to, but admitting that, I wrote it more for myself. I had to do this. Of the entire piece, there are things I really loved, such as the concept and questionable origins behind such theological philosophies, as well as the intense psychological issues with Zeke basically slowly being driven mad. This was such an interesting topic to me, I loved writing for this piece. However, there are things I really hated that I'm quite critical of myself on in that the descriptive nature of this story became insanely repetitive. Four pages in, I was critical on myself for making it too boring, trying my best to draw interest in his obscure dreams and Abaddon's subtle presence. Later on, it became incredibly frustrating with how repetitive I had to be to describe the situations. Simply the presence of such basic paragraphs expressing "He ____, he ____, he ____," was enough to drive me up a wall. If I had more time, I would have thought a way to change it, but I had to settle. Perhaps I am my own worst critic, but I wouldn't say its not a productive inner voice, taking the lesson from the writing podcast session you linked somewhere else a week or so ago.

If there's anything else, please be brutally honest with me. I'm learning a ton from it, and sincerely appreciate it, trust me. I will get to your entry very soon. I'm looking forward to it, but have also been really needing a break from literary stuff after focusing entirely on this story for the last week.

You're welcome!



Ever play any of the Silent Hill games? You might like them if you haven't. They don't really deal with theology, but they definitely dive into psychological horror, especially the second one.



I know what you're getting at, but because you started right off the bat with one of Zeke's dreams, I could put up with the boring parts because I knew already it was going somewhere. . . not boring. I'm not saying the scenes in-between dreams were done super well, but they certainly served more than just getting Zeke to the next dream sequence. They expand on his character in ways the dreams don't and probably can't.



If you insist. There is one thing I can think off the top of my head.



Never before have I read of someone being so critical of another person taking a nap in class. I found this part with the whispers making fun of him to be overly done and kinda forced at first. I would stand by that if it was not revealed immediately after that it was in Zeke's head. Now there's an excuse for it and I can go, "Okay. It was that demon thing screwing with him." But still, I can't help but feel that the insults leveled at Zeke in that scene are a bit overdone.



Don't worry about it. I'd need a break too after writing all that.

Unfortunately, I haven't. I haven't played many horror games, surprisingly. My favorite, however, is Clive Barker's Undying, for its intensely chilling atmosphere and horrifying storyline.



Thanks for commenting on this, since I am particularly analytical of that part. Interesting to hear how you perceived it, and probably even more interesting that you reveal something I might not have even noticed myself so directly in regards to his character development, that he obviously needed some boring aspects to appropriately describe the rather ordinary parts of his life.


This is where things got a little complicated, a plan left over from my first story conception. He was looking incredibly odd because the ringing had become painful, and the rings were, interestingly enough, key hints at first that he was about to encounter something supernatural or hallucinogenic. I find it really interesting that you find them forced, and I think they rather are too. It may be my lack of appropriately leading into realistic dialogue, but yes, they are intentionally supposed to be overly critical of him, though I agree I could have done this better somehow. This is actually in-homage to serious mental disorders where people actually do hear the voices of others, sometimes they are critical voices that mock everything they do, and because they are in their head, there is no running and no hiding from their words. That was a chilling concept I simply had to try and include, and may have been the inspiration for the story originally.

Thanks again for your comments, they are much appreciated.

Definitely play Silent Hill if you get the chance. It sounds like it'd be right up your alley.



Ah.



That's interesting. I've never heard of that before.

well, read through it. wasn't as long as I thought anyhow. it was enjoyable.

pretty interesting concept, another take about teenage suicide due to various schizophrenic conditions. the plotlines are quite easy to follow too, with the surreal imagery which further accentuated the feel of the story. sir, I applaud you for the efforts, and making up something thought-provoking =D

though in the end, well, the overall impact was kinda you know, not my taste. I kinda preferred good endings where it could be shimmered with hope, but I kinda got a different impression altogether after reading this. got my own interpretations too.

one other thing which didn't really stick with me was about how suddenly a series of dreams like that could occur. if I were to put this logically, it might be more than just a coming of a certain demon.

maybe it's more like the beginnings of The Metamorphosis by Kafka, where suddenly, without any apparent reason, the Author begins it with the aftermath of the situation, through something that was seemingly hopeless to convey something subtly, but also in a really powerful way. in the story's case, it kinda told something in the end, but in this case, it's probably been lacking in the main point.

what kind of message did it wanted to convey? or was it something intended, to provoke awareness of some sort? from what I thought, it was about a kind of mental disorder which occurs from god-knows-when, and the society which further alienates them, making the condition suffer altogether. the closed-up image of today's youth who isolates themselves from the cruel society which knows no understanding about them. and in the end, they went to suffer for all eternity because of something that wasn't even their fault in the first place.

that's how I interpreted the story. though it kinda lacks something which would either completely shatter or destroy the readers apart by a powerful impact, just like Kafka's work tore me apart once. or maybe this story was intended for a more subtle food of thought, to think about things in a mostly calm manner. either way, this is how your story kinda feel to me and I feel grateful that I could finally come across something like this.

great job, and once more I applaud your dedication for writing this.

Yes, I prefer good endings, too. However, for some reason when writing, I shirk away in fear that they're too typical. That life just doesn't work like a fairy tale and things, although they don't need to become a tragedy, do not end without leaving scars. Well, consider this a fitting development for a Halloween contest. I look forward to all the heart melting stories in December.



Yes, beginning a story with the end and then retelling the beginning is a common story-telling tactic in both literary works and film. My previous entry used it to a degree, as I recall. I didn't want to use it with this story because I wanted it to be more basic in terms of just the telling of a tale from beginning to end. Though a valid method, I think it's becoming a bit overdone.



That is a great way to look at the message the story sends, but looking for a message in this one won't get you too far. Simply, I didn't intend for there to be a message, I just wanted to tell the story I was conceptualizing in my mind. If there is a message in this story to take home with you, I believe it to be that one should place faith and trust in those around them who care about them because it is they who one ultimately relies on when one breaks and cannot help themselves. In turn, when it is others that break because something alienates them for being different or they feel entirely alone, I feel that because we are all going through such experiences that it makes us have so much in common and that we should be there for others to console them even if we may not be able to help directly. If only to be a shoulder to lean on. That's my sentimental opinion, but this story can be viewed as one likes.



Thank you very much for the kind words and honest opinion, high. I know this stuff typically isn't in your area of interest and my massive paragraphs bother you, but I take it to heart that you read it regardless. It means a lot to me, and you help in more ways than you know. A long time ago, you linked a video on YouTube, whether it was with your story or in a post, but I saved it to write for inspiration and it helped me through this in certain areas, and for that I'm appreciative.

the replies goes here, open up the spoiler to read



on a side note, something came to me as I read through your replies and such. I think the story, in some way, resembles me in my time where I alienated myself from the real world. like, how I felt like the entire world has been looking at me like I'm freak and such, and that I find it hard to move anywhere, or trying to look up for a shelter to ease my burden.

well, it's not as extreme as it was included in the story, and proceeds in a different way too. but the general idea is similar. maybe, if Zeke actually had a good ending for this one, his story and conclusion will be very similar to mine.

it goes like this:

Zeke thought that all of his nightmares building up was the result of the pressure he has gotten from the environment, and he further proceeds to alienate himself. he wanted to get a helping hand, but did not know how. so he simply just wrote out all his feelings, pouring it down into hand writings. nobody ever found out about his own nightmares later then until he went to University and finally coughed it up through his internet friends.

until one point, with the acknowledgment that the devil was the result of his own hyperactive imagination, and the help of the friends from Fakku.net, he finally got his own happy ending, and finally his own freedom in addition of friends who would understand him as he are. he further continues down to write and write out many things, as it was the one saving his life from total destruction.

in return, wanting his writings to help the majority of people having the same problem as him, to tell them that they are not alone, and never will be alone anymore. a friend will come to ease their burden for sure.

===

it was very very similar how I got cornered down at one point, and I felt so depressed, I want to just end my life similar to the protagonist at one point. but I decided, I was too cowardly, and that was the first time I started writing - and it continues on until now.

either way, I felt like I could easily relate to the protagonist and his life if I were to look at the general idea. so yeah.

it was truly nostalgic lol, time sure had flown by so quickly =)

The nightmare was most attention-grabbing. In the beggining when I read of the bad-boy friend and nice girl an alarm popped in my head wailing "cliché! cliché", which I shut off, "No excuses to not read you lazy bum" and read it out.

The school scene where Zeke saw moving shadows on the edge of his eye was when my interest went on it's peak. Later when his friends dissapeared, it kept me reading in thirst to know what would happen next, what would be of them. When you wrote the monster's "flexing tendons", that detail stayed most in my mind as I read through (and still is). When his friend seemingly sacrificed himself for him, being stabbed in his place, the detail was exquisite. The ending was depressing, there was no way for a happy ending, it was most tragic, repulsive, unpredictable and inevitable. Yet in a way, it left one satisfied.

It felt better than a movie, leaving one thinking about it for a long time.

Thanks for sharing this with us, Xenon.

Hm, perhaps you're correct. It is wonderful how all our experiences work together to forge a new image of ourselves stronger and wiser than the last, isn't it? This can truly affect more of our lives than we may know.



I had the biggest grin on my face to learn that you're developing a sequel. I wish you much luck on its conception and hope that you carry it through. Perhaps an idea for the Winter contest, hm?



high, it means a tremendous amount to me that your story takes a much more positive development. I think, barring the tragedies, the fact that you found such identification with the story is flattering, and even that you wrote it out so eloquently. I truly think that the fact that we can be here for each other is an incredible luxury that we should appreciate and utilize. We all have this wonderful interest in writing and we can only fuel such positive use of each other's skill, in addition to providing encouragement and aid to help our literary talents grow. Hopefully, we should all be like Jo, encouraging the best out of each other's development.



Haha, I am happy that you enjoyed the most interesting bits. Truth be told, Zeke's friends are indeed quite cliché, and for very specific reasons because of what it is revealed that they are in the end. I am most proud of that scene goring Ross, it took a bit to develop into the one in the story, but it needed to be done to introduce such damningly putrid content. The story was a treat for me to write, and learning it was so well received by you is a wonderful gift. However, if there's anything you're critical over, please feel free to speak openly since I am also using this story in an attempt to get better and learn through mistakes. Again, thank you for enjoying it.

yeah. well said =)



well I think I'm planning to develop it as a series instead. if I got the time I'd probably just stick to something really simple, just for joining in the fun =)



maybe it's kind of exaggerated and it might seem silly at times yeah, but I think for sure that I did not feel unfortunate - maybe a bit, but that's all in the past. at least after experiencing something along the way I've got the thing to look at life in a much different perspective.

yeah I have quite the belief that it's majorly due to the influence of this supporting environment which helps us grow to be the one we aspired to be =)

there's also the self-motivation to pursue oneself, but I think it will be more beautiful if we fought alongside the people who supported us all along the way