Fear No Evil: A Short Story

This one is a bit longer then the last one.
Oh, and I hope you all aren’t getting bored of stories yet. I’ll make sure my next post is different, but I don’t have the time to write up something thoughtful, and to be honest there is not much happening in my own life to write about at the moment.
So, I hope you guys like this.

Fear No Evil

I walk down the streets, alone. My footsteps echo in the silent streets, the only sound for miles. This place has been deserted for years, no one dares to even come near its ruins. Everyone that is, but me. Here is the only place I truly feel me. Here, I don’t have to hide. The entire city is shrouded in a dark shadow. It is cold and traitorous, but it is also powerful. It makes me feel powerful in turn.
Outside of the city, I know that people are only just waking up, stirring from a night of pleasant dreams, the sun peeking over the rooftops of the new houses, casting its rays upon the wall. There is no sun here. Ever since the darkness came there has been no need of it. Window boxes lie dead and empty, and broken flower pots crunch under my foot. If I peek into the windows I’d see tables deserted, some with supper remains from years ago still on the plates.
I can hear the echoes of the screams of terror, and agonized cries of the wounded trapped in a world long forgotten. A dark cloud in the sky, raining fire and ash down upon the city and her people. The roofs light the sky with a red blaze, and people are racing in a panic. I close my eyes and breath deeply. The scent of burning flash, and ashen smoke fill my nostrils. That is when I feel it. It creeps up my spin like a snake slithering up a tree.
My eyes open, and I stare down the empty alley ways. Only they aren’t empty. It sits in wait there, laughing at my stupidity and bravery. I don’t care what It thinks. This was my home before it was Its. I hold my head higher.
It speaks to me.
You are brave, child, It hisses. Brave, but foolish. Do you come to challenge me?
“No,” I answer. “I have not come to challenge you. You know why I am here. I’ve come before.”
Yes, I know you have. And you return. Why do you return?
“I return because I can not stay away.” I feel the darkness closing in, bunching about me, trapping me. I find it harder to breath.
You like this, don’t you? It is whispering to me now, like a voice from within, telling me my own secrets that I pretend don’t exist. You… you have been linked to Shadow before. You yet retain the powers it bestowed upon you.
” I have,” I gasp, my throat closing involuntarily, whether from fear or lack of air I do not know. “But I conquered it then, and I can now.”
Laughter, a sharp peel of dark humor, pierce the air like an arrow.
You foolish child! You conquered nothing! You broke the link, yes, but it is still within you! Your as much a part of it as I am! You are kin to me, as I am to you. You revel in the power you have, but you deny what gives you it. That is why you come here. That is why you can not stay away. Here you feel at home because you are home. You belong in the Shadows. You belong to the Shadows.
“No,” I shout, my anger flaring up, my hands curl into fists and I can feel the flames dancing within them, begging to be let out. It only laughs at me all the harder.
You can not use your gift against me! I serve the one that gave you the gift! The gift you have used to keep you and your family in this world, to protect those who you care for, everything you have you owe to me and my Master!”
“No!” I shriek at It. The flames erupt from my finger tips, sailing through the air in bright orange ribbons, attacking the dark. The laughter only grows into a chorus, and in the darkness I can see shapes forming; great laughing beasts all black, with eyes that glow a fiery red. They are like monkeys, but they are more twisted, and winged with bat-like appendages.
You can not fight us, they laugh. You would not dare.
I dare.
I race towards them, a shout full of pent up anger tearing from my lips. I use the fire like whips and daggers, throwing and twisting it around them as I dart through the crowd like a ghost. Their laughter changes to shrieks and high-pitched roars. They begin to fly at me, tearing at me with their curved claws, as black and hard as iron. One tears the sleeve of my dress and scraps my arm, and a scream of pain escapes me, unbidden. Another tears at my back, and I fall to my knees, my flames once more escaping from me uncontrolled, flying off into the sky, and lighting the nearby rooftops once more. Tears stream down my cheeks, and all I see is a swirling world of darkness and fire. I choke. I’d tried so hard, so hard to be good. I’d fought from the beginning. Ever since my father brought home It I knew, and I’d fought.
Some say that as they die they see their life flash before them, see all the wrongs they’d committed, and all the good they might have done. Some who have survived such an experience say it is a blessing in the guise of a curse. I do not know how anyone could describe such torture as a blessing, guised as a curse or no.
Seeing once more my father, who had once been so healthy, strong, and faithful, deteriorate into a hateful and spiteful man broke my heart all over again. My mother grew ever sicker. She had fought like me, but quietly. She wasn’t a warrior. She was faithful. She embodied the very meaning of faithfulness for all of us and It killed her. My father cried for the last time at her deathbed. It was the end of his battle. The night of her funeral I was dragged from my bed by my red-eyed, twisted father. He dragged me to the fireplace, only 8 years old and still half asleep, and thrust my hand in to the flames. I screamed, terrified, the burning heat crawling across my hand like a thousand spiders, burning my flesh to black.
I hear my childhood shrieks once more, and feel the flames for the first time all over again. “Papa!” I cried. “Papa!” My father released me, and I pulled my hand back from the flame, not daring to touch it, but crying in pain. Then all at once the pain slowly grew lighter, and my hand turned once more it’s normal hue.
“You are marked now,” I hear my father rasp once more, his eyes wide. He turns around and talks to something I can not see. “I have done as you’ve asked! Now free me!”
So you have, and so you shall be.
That was the first night I’d heard IT. I screamed, and my father dropped dead at my feet for the second time in my life.
Things changed after that. I had a power that I didn’t understand. The voice of It speaking to me in my head nearly drove me mad, young as I was, and the whole city shunned me as the mad daughter of a mad man.
Then came The Night. The night it all changed. The night I was so hungry, and so weak that I begged It to free as it had my father. It only laughed at me.
You are to young for that fate, my dear one, It hissed in laughter. It liked to laugh at me. You are mine, and I do not want to let you go yet.
No one called me there’s. I screamed in rage and hurt, and let all of my emotions take over. I threw myself at the darkness, throwing flames in all directions, feeling more powerful then I had ever felt before. I grinned in wicked pleasure, I know I did, and I felt It retreating. I laughed at it, and let a wave of flames go. I was surrounded by them. It was the smoke that woke me from my power-induced daze. I looked around at me and shrieked with fear as I saw the walls and roof burning. I raced outside, and found only a bigger fire. My house had caught the surrounding houses on fire, and in my wild rage I’d sent flames into the sky, and onto the city. People raced past me, screaming in fright. Ash and smoke mixed and filled the air, and when I looked up, a dark cloud was forming over head. I had not defeated It after all. I’d only made it strong. I fell to my knees, tears streaming down my face. It was over, all over.
Tears are streaming down my cheeks again, the smoke and ash filling my lungs. It is over for sure now. What more is there to know? I am a girl who killed an entire city. I submitted to the darkness in my foolishness. And I was sorry for it. So sorry.
A white light begins to crowd out the fire in my vision. I close my eyes. It is over now, and all I want is to rest. But I open my eyes. When I open them, I am looking up into a face I never thought I’d see again.
“Mama?”
My mother, my own, dear, darling mother smiles down at me, her chocolate eyes misty with tears.
“My baby girl,” she says brushing a lock of hair off my forehead. “You have fought so hard.”
“I’m not strong enough though,” I sob. She pulls me to her chest as I begin to cry, my sobs full of 16 years of grief. “I wasn’t strong enough! I helped it, mother, I know I did! I’m not strong enough…” My sobs turn to hiccups, and my mother rocks me, like she did when I was little, and hurt.
“I know you aren’t, baby,” she said softly. “I know, but you don’t have to be.”
“But I can’t just let It win!” I cry, the terror of what would happen to me if I submitted to it was to much to bear.
“Of course you can’t,” my mother says, running a hand down my hair comfortingly. “But you can have help.”
“Help?” I repeat.
My mother smiles at me, and offers me a piece of cloth. I take it. On it is a prayer that I thought I’d forgotten long ago. I smile a little as I read the old words I’d once said with such reverence.
“He is always with you, my love,” my mother says to me gently. “He will not forsake you.”
I clutch the piece of cloth it my heart, and close my eyes as I smile. I feel the bright light fade, and I know my mother is leaving me. That is alright. I will see her soon. First, I must finish what I have tried to do for so long.
When I open my eyes I am lying on the ash covered road, the dark attacking me from all sides still. The ugly shrieks of victory are flowing through Its ranks.
“Our Father…” I whisper, and the wild calls die. “… who art in Heaven…” There is silence now. I begin to push myself up onto my feet. The demons start to fall back, hissing at me.
“Hallowed be thy name.”
The calls start again, but this time they are full of rage.
“Thy Kingdom come, Thy will be done!” I shout back, “On Earth as it is in Heaven!”
I continue through the prayer, shouting each line into the roaring din.
“Lead me not into Temptation, but deliver me from evil!”
As soon as I finish that one, I start another and then another. The demons are shrieking now, and the dark is writhing in agony. I smile, I can feel my own strength growing. Not the hateful kind that I’d been relying on for far to long, but that which comes from Him above.
I start a prayer my Mother used to always say.
“The Lord is my Shepard I shall not want. He leadeth me through green pasture, and beside still waters.”
The demons are fleeing now, racing down the alleys. I can hear the incoherent hisses of It, but even Its voice is growing weak.
“And though I walk through the valley of the shadow of Death,” I am not shouting now. there is no need. “I fear no Evil.” I can’t go any farther. That one line rings in my head and I repeat it over and over.
“I fear no Evil. I fear no Evil.” The darkness is weakening, and I can feel It drawing back, leaving this place.
“Lead me not into temptation, but deliver me from evil!” I say again. “Deliver me!” the wind is howling now, a sharp whistle, and the ash is swept from the streets and into the air. I can feel it in my throat, and in my lungs. That doesn’t matter any more.
I look up to the sky. The clouds over head are swirling and bashing against each other like waves in a tempest. And then they start to disappear. A single sun beam falls from the rolling black, and strikes the ground at me feet. I look down, and before my eyes I see one small, green sprout slowly break through the soil between the stones.
“Deliver me… ” I sigh, My eyes are failing. I can’t see much now, but there is light. I know that. Light is streaming into the city. I hear a far off sound, like a distant earthquake. The wall is crumbling. The city is free. I am free.
I feel myself fall to the stones, and sigh. “I fear no evil..”

I hope you guys liked this! I apologize for its length…
Share your thought sin the comments! To long? To dull? To dark? To happy?
Tell Me!

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5 comments

      1. Feels like it, anyway…
        Please, start it, if you have time… or just phone me… I’m dying of boredom over here and don’t feel like lying in bed any more.

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