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In to the Church

Bright light was flowing out so brightly, it was all I could see. The rest of the room was gray, a look that made it appear as if I was inside a storm cloud. As I walked in to the blinding white light, I began to notice shadows appearing before me. The farther I walked the more I could tell what they were. They were people sitting in a church, the pews beneath them were elegantly carved with stories of the Bible. Everyone was dressed in all black, heads lowered, and they were still, as if they too, were part of the scenes in the wood.

Curious, I began to study one of the pews, and noticed that every one had visions of death sprawled throughout the oak. It gave me a bad feeling, as if this church was meant only for funerals. It was as if the devil had taken over, but was still hiding behind God, as to fool his followers. At the front of this lifeless party was, of course, a coffin.

Black roses, which lined the outside like they grew there, covered huge locks which seemed to scream, “If it were dead, would we be here?” That thought mirrored the feelings I got from the pews, and sent a shot of fear spiraling down my spine. Deep with in the box a low growling echoed as if it was coming from the bottom of a canyon. At that point I knew what ever was inside was alive, trapped in that box as if only being six feet under could stop it.

Behind me I studied the faces of the people. They were all sitting as still as before heads lowered as if praying, but they wore masks. They were masquerade masks with no expression, blank as if their minds had been erased by the back end of a giant pencil. I couldn't tell if they were breathing, but I wouldn’t dare go any closer, for fear that whoever was controlling them would finally pull on his puppets’ strings. If the puppet master did I’d be joining the boxed beast in an unpleasant death.

Escape was my only option, but how do you escape from a world of evil that follows you like the moon seems to do in the night sky? Every inch of this place was lite, but there were no windows or doors, except where I entered through through the light. The only problem there is that the light was no door ,and this place is truly where the light don’t shine.

Again a low growl echoed from within the coffin, bouncing off the walls, back and forth like a game of tennis. At that moment a weird feeling came to me, not like the one before, no, this feeling felt like a connection. It felt like the force of gravity, but instead of my body being pulled, it felt as if my soul was being pulled. This pulling came from the only other living thing that seemed to be in the room along side me. The creature from within the box.

It was calling for me. It didn’t seem like a blood thirsty call, it felt more like a cry for help. This demonic being was actually crying, stranded within a world of nothing, hell inside a small box. Every thing around me gave this creature a evil mask, prejudice against something I knew nothing about. What if it was innocent and these people were the demons? Was all this reverse psychology created to make me follow some cult? Is the devil hiding trying to get me to aid in the death of a holy spirit, or is this my judgement? It’s been what feels like an hour and i still know nothing about were i am, and yet that usual curiosity that normally creeps up on you like a ninja in the night, is missing in action.

So I did what felt right, even if it looked so wrong, looked like I was going against God in his own house. I strolled up to the alter and found a key setting on top as if I was meant to find it laying there. I then continued on t the coffin and preceded to open the locks, carelessly throwing each one down to the ground, each one making the loudest thud as it echoed of the wooden floor beneath me.

At about three locks left the puppet master finally pulled on his strings and his puppets began to crawl toward me like zombies in a horror movie. Death was following behind me and I had to act quickly to open each of the remaining locks faster then the first ones.

The last one finally hit the floor sending chunks of wood flying into the air. The coffin creaked open and a blinding purple light flowed from within. As every beam hit me I felt more energized, power flowed through me like an electrical charge. The beast wasn’t a soul after all, it was my own soul begging for it’s body, and at last it had come back home.

I turned around and let a fierce roar rip through the church with hurricane force tearing the entire place to pieces like it was made of Lincoln logs. Everyone was flung like rag dolls into the forest that surrounded the church. From where I stood I could here skull cracking, and necks snapping from the blunt force of their bodies slamming against the trees. The bullet of energy that shot out of me wore me out and my world quickly went black.

I woke up in my bed, my room was so quiet even the crickets weren’t making any noise. What ever had happened must of been a dream, or even a nightmare that just so happened to go my way. I was satisfied with that thought until I saw something out of the corner of my eye.

In the corner of my very familiar room I noticed a large plank of wood. Curious, I walked over to it and began to examine the details artistically carved in to the surface. It was a piece of the pew from the church. Maybe it wasn’t a dream after all.





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