[BOOK #1][COMPLETED]
In the quaint village of Eldenhaven, time seems to stand completely still. Oliver Morgan's life has always revolved around his modest family shop, Morgan's Fresh Essentials.
With his ailing mother's care and running the shop, O...
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"In the face of darkness, the true measure of our courage is not in the absence of fear, but in the resolve to stand against it."
—
HE COULDN'T WAIT ANY LONGER, couldn't stand here watching whatever the hell it was that Theodore was doing to her. He had to do something and something quick.
All he could come up with was to sprint straight for him, diving over the end of his mother's bed and into the chest of Theodore. Together they tumbled down to the ground.
They both grappled on the floor, each attempting to grab the other and bend the other into submission. When finally Oliver kicked his feet outwards, clashing with Theodore's hip and propelling him backwards a couple of inches.
With space between them, Oliver took the opportunity to stand himself up. Theodore followed, along with his demonic smile piercing through his very soul.
"Why do you want to play games, child?" Theodore spoke. Oliver noticed that he wasn't out of breath or breaking a single bead of sweat over that short skirmish.
"Games? What the fuck are you doing to my mom?"
"Nothing that isn't already going to happen," Theodore says, slowly inching himself closer over towards Oliver.
"What is that supposed to mean?" He questioned. But Theodore didn't seem to be in the answering questions kind of mood, making a few more steps.
"What was that? The smoke...cloud...thing?" Oliver looked back over to his mother, she was asleep. Not snoring but asleep, he could see from the rise and fall of her chest. Accompanied by the odd twitch or flick of the eyelids.
"I can see that you don't want me to help your mother anymore." He stated.
Oliver let out a sarcastic half-laugh. "Of course I don't! Why the hell would I want that?"
"I was helping your mother, Oliver."
"I'm sure you were you freak. Get the fuck out!"
"I have to finish helping her, Oliver," Theodore says throwing his demonic eyes over towards his mother.
"You don't have to do anything involving me or my mom. Get out of our house now before I dive at you again old man."
Theodore laughed. Laughed louder and longer than he had ever done. It sent cold shivers down Oliver's spine.
"Leave the room boy, before I have to remove you."
"I'm not going anywhere," Oliver stated, clenching his fists tightly together. He couldn't believe what was happening.
"You're leaving me no choice," Theodore said, stepping two strides closer towards him. "I'm finishing helping your mother."
"To hell, you are—"
Oliver didn't finish his shout or charge over towards Theodore. The old man held out his left hand, outstretching his fingers, with a swift motion mimicking the act of pushing Oliver backwards.
To Oliver's surprise, he began feeling the pressure of hands rapidly and in multiple successions pushing against his chest. The force was so strong, it sent him flying backwards. Coming to a crash down onto the dresser table.
All the wind had been sucked out of his lungs as he impacted the hardwood dresser table. Two of the small drawers had broken away and folded on top of him.
Theodore, using the short handful of seconds created to continue, turned back to Oliver's mother. Leaning back over he began the process again of drawing her delicious cancerous soul out of her body.
The black mutated cloud of her essence poured out from her mouth and eyes, slithering its way into Theodore. Who drew it all in with a great inhaling motion. As if inhaling a cloud of vapour. Dark, black vapour.
Those short handful of seconds was all he needed as the last remaining dregs of her soul removed itself from her body. Mrs Morgan went completely still. No movement of her eyes, no twitching of her muscles. Not even the basey snore emanated from her now.
Theodore could see from the corner of his eye the silhouette of Oliver fumbling around the wooden debris to right himself up. Not giving him a chance to act, again he motioned the actions of a push. Sending Oliver careening back into the dresser. This time smashing the remaining pieces of its structure.
Taking this as the moment of opportunity he made his dash towards the open doorway. Passing through it and around the smashed white door.
The pain in Oliver's back was immeasurable. He was positive that something had been broken. But he was thankful that right about now he could stand and move around.
He knew that Theodore had bolted it down the staircase, hearing the banging of his footsteps.
Not this time you aren't.
Oliver had had enough. Theodore wasn't getting away now. Not after whatever the hell he had just done to him. In fact, what had he just done to him?
Did he really push him off his feet without even touching him? How did he do that?
*
MRS PATTERSON BROWSED through the aisle of Morgan's Essentials. She'd been coming here all her life, even as a child her mother used to walk her down here on Friday mornings. They would get a fresh loaf of farmhouse bread and some chocolate.
Oh, how she missed her mother. The things she would share with her, all the stories she had bottled up and ready to tell.
But, she knew that her parents—God rest their souls—were with her Lord in Heaven. Comforted by the reasoning that everything had a purpose, there was meaning in all things. Even death.
Mrs. Patterson picked up a magazine called Science Focus, intrigued by the cover which read: Alien Earths? Of course, she didn't believe in all that nonsense but wanted to see what they said regardless.
The cover stated the article was on pages twelve to fifteen. She began flicking the pages and she would have gotten to the twelfth page in the next flick had Theodore not come running out from behind the counter.
Crashing into the display of neatly stacked tinned soup he went flying onto the floor. Sliding to a stop against the spinning rack of AAA batteries.
Her breath was taken away and her knees became weak when she locked eyes with his. Hellfire themselves. Red and burning like molten rock. The Devil himself?
Being part of the Church since the age of six had trained her for this very moment. She knew that evil was in this world. That Lucifer himself is playing tricks on us all. True, she never expected this day to actually be upon her. But the Lord tests us in mysterious ways.
Quickly, before the downed Theodore could get to his feet, she made her way over to the front door. Sliding the lock shut. The key, still in the keyhole, was twisted. The bolt slid and clicked into place.
Removing the key and throwing it down to the back of the shop and out of sight.
"You fucking bitch!" Shouted Theodore, stumbling back onto his feet. "You're going to pay for that." He finished before throwing his hands into the air.
This motion sent Mrs Patterson flying. She went up over the nearest set of shelves and crashed down onto the floor. Clattering with the confectionary. Raining down Cadbury's and Galaxy bars down on top of her.
"Mrs Patterson, are you okay?" Came the whispered voice of Oliver crouching down low. He had come around the other side of the aisles avoiding Theodore.
