The Dreamer

Prologue

          The state was California. The town was Crescent Springs. Tucked away two and a half hours south of San Diego, Crescent Springs held a population of just under 10,000. 9, 825 to be exact. There were many things to attract someone to Crescent Springs: privately owned shops, the small yet pleasant restaurants, the friendly and accepting people all drew people to this town. A hotel welcomed tourists or travelers to rest in their twenty-room building, and a county theatre provided a place for families and friends enjoy themselves and relax. But the main reason Crescent Springs was special was because of its high end private college, Crescent Springs University.

Founded in 1948 by Jonathan M. Lewis, CSU was invitation only, and only the brightest and smartest of students were extended the priceless offer. CSU’s business program was in the top five in the country; its economics, science, and performing arts were all in the top ten. Students left with a prolific knowledge in their major, along with a rounded understanding of all the major subjects, such as math, English and science. No student had ever left CSU without a GPA of at least 3.5. Crescent Springs University demanded the best of their students, and in the history of the school, only three students hadn’t graduated in the standard four years. However, none of this compared to its most prestigious major.

Religion. CSU led the country in religion majors. Each professor had at least 15 years of experience in their field, and the committee was a mix of teachers, priests, pastors, and clergy. Classes ranged from the history of religion and cults, to detailed classes about specific religions, such as Islam and Hindu, and the overview of “Christian” religions, including Catholic, Methodist, and Mormon, to name a few. A student would gain an essential comprehension of all the major religions in the first two years. The final two years would focus on the spectrum of religion that they chose. Whether it be the history of a certain religion or cult, or to be a priest or pastor, the student would be engrossed and engulfed by whatever he or she chose. No leisure activities were offered at CSU. Everything was oriented towards attaining the perfect GPA, obtaining a major that only this university could offer.

          But the university held a secret. A horrifying, dark, penetrating, disturbing secret. Only the select and chosen few knew about it, and even then the full capacity was never totally understood. Only one person knew the complete truth about it.

At CSU, underneath the Wright Building where all religion classes were held, was a tunnel. A hidden tunnel that few had discovered and fewer had dared to venture into its dangerous depths.

Only ordained people could traverse into the tunnel. Only those who had the aligned major and correct beliefs and who were contacted by the leader would ever step foot inside the tunnel.

Twice a month, the leader, who preferred to be called the Fallen Angel, gathered his believers and met in the tunnel, to perform their ritual. The Fallen Angel led an occult in which his followers were dubbed his “Fallen.” He was the Fallen Angel, the one who had fell from Heaven only to create his own stronger, greater, more powerful religion then the God of heaven ever could. The Fallen Angel had incredible power, unfathomable control over things unseen. Wielding authority over the supernatural, the Fallen Angel was able to perform acts that human reason could not explain.

The Fallen Angel was infected, possessed, indwelled.

*        *        *

The tunnel wasn’t very long, as it was straight shot below the Wright Building. But exactly halfway between the entrance and the exit was a room. It was very accessible, as no door was present. The tunnel led straight to it. A step was all the divided the room from the tunnel. A room that wasn’t very big, but for the size of a party like the Fallen, it was perfect. Black walls on all four sides, and completely bare except for a red sign that read, “We Believe” stuck on the left wall.

On the floor of this room, a group of six people sat in a circle, hands locked with the person next to them and eyes closed. The Fallen Angel was saying a prayer to one gave him his strength. His Fallen would it recite back. In the middle of the circle was a lamb. Its legs were bound together, and an occasional wail escaped its mouth.

As the prayer got further along, the voices of the Fallen began to rise, gaining volume and urgency.

“Empower the Fallen Angel! Empower us! We serve you!” Their voices rang out in a loud degree, but it was only audible to those present.

“We believe! Others have failed in their belief, but we will never fail!” The chant continued with a tremendous amount of passion and emotion.

“Live in us!” was the final statement, then the Fallen Angel broke contact with the hands of those adjacent to him and held his hands up, palms facing the ground.

The Fallen hushed.

The Fallen Angel spoke. “We are here to profess our belief in the supernatural. We believe in Heaven and angels, but the power we posses is far superior. Do you believe?"

"We believe!"

"Good. Now there are some who don't believe. There are those who discount what we do as crazy, insane, and even Satanic! Those who believe this are lost and haven't seen the true power of the Fallen. What do we do with unbelievers?"

"Kill them!" the Fallen roared.

The lamb made a sound.

"That is what is ordered of us, but since we cannot kill everyone, we have a substitute for all the unbelievers." The Fallen Angel pointed to the lamb. "We must sacrifice this blood for those who don't believe. But this is only temporary. The Higher One will only accept the lamb for a certain amount of time. Then we will have to meet again, and offer another."

The Fallen Angel made eye contact with each member.

"But mark my words. Soon the blood of this lamb will be replaced with the human blood of the unbelievers."

A young Fallen spoke, "When will that be, Fallen Angel?"

"When the Higher One says."

The Fallen all nodded.

"Let's begin with the ceremony."

The Fallen Angel placed both hands on the lamb and the Fallen reformed the circle so that they were surrounding the fallen angel.

Then, in a monotone and steady voice, the Fallen repeatedly said, "We believe."

The Fallen Angel focused all his energy and will on the lamb. He envisioned the heart of the lamb and directed the power within him to indwell the sheep.

Five minutes passed, and then suddenly, the Fallen Angel's head jerked sideways, and a scream pierced the sound of the Fallen's chant.

But the Fallen didn't stop.

The Fallen Angel stopped screaming. The lamb started bleating rapidly and loudly.

The Fallen Angel raised his hands and head to the sky and yelled, "It is finished!"

The noises emitted by the lamb suddenly were no more.

The Fallen fell quiet and all looked at their leader.

The Fallen Angel’s head became level, and he stared into the eyes of his Fallen.

His eyes were black.

The Fallen Angel lowered his hands and picked felt the lamb.

It was dead. And not a drop of blood had been shed. On the outside, it looked asleep. But a closer inspection would reveal that the animal had suffered a massive heart attack that had instantly killed it.

"Do you believe?" the Fallen Angel whispered.

"Yes."