The Pale Man Rises

CHAPTER SIXTY SEVEN

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The pale man sat there at the table and read various portions of the book. He was aware of the import of it as he connected with the many mentalities of the captured brains he had consumed over the millennia. The first chapters or so covered a creation story and the emergence of a monotheistic religion and the first adherents of the same who struggled through strife, conflict, and enslavement to achieve nationhood in a land called Israel. The book lumbers on then recounting the struggles and accomplishments of numerous purveyors of the creed. And even beyond this time in the centuries to come they faced still more strife, conflict, and the hegemony of other great ancient powers.

The second testament of the book chronicled the life of one called Jesus Christ whom the book increasingly celebrated as the spawn of the godhead and the founder of a newer more refined version of the religion from which it sprang. The newer religion had been named for this man, Christ according to this Bible he was reading.

The last chapter of the book was the one he found the most interesting. The Revelations of this Apostle John were taut with horror and hope and somehow the monster began to see himself as becoming a part of this man's vision. He was, after all a creature that had alighted on this planet to wreak horror and pestilence upon these humans. Perhaps he thought I am unknowingly a part of this prophecy.

He paused in his reading and sat there isolated with his thoughts of evil and destruction. He thought of the child and how he intended to destroy her and use her as the one God of this book had used His own progeny, had allowed the mob to demand his crucifixion thus allowing him to wash away the sins of humanity with his blood. 

 Only this time the blood of the innocent would wash away the fog of the coma his brethren languished in so that the inevitable triumph of evil would be realized. Thus the great horde of parasites could emerge and claim this place and its inhabitants to feed upon them until they were of no more use to them. Suddenly a small pink envelop slid from the pages of the book and lay before him. It was thick with something inside it. 

 Curious the pale man opened it to find numerous photographs. He flipped through the pictures. They were mostly typical black and white snapshots. A few of them however were in color. There were pictures of people at picnics and church functions and sundry other nameless events and occasions.

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He could recognize some of those in the photos for they were his prisoners mere feet away. He saw a younger Julia, Norman, Loretta, and Jack. There was even some of Jack when he was a child and a teenager.

Eventually he came upon one of Jack that looked quite old. He was dressed in a dark jersey with numerals on it. He stood next to the dark form of a large rock. Behind the rock was a man made structure that was a light or beige stone color. And beyond that he could see a narrow strip of water. And on beyond this was a familiar horizon, a horizon of thick dark trees.

The pale man had recognized the rock in an instant. He also could see that the trees were part of the swamp. But where did so much water come from? He could not remember so much water around while he was in the swamp. And it was obvious that there was a great deal of it though the photograph only revealed a small portion of it until the borders of the snapshot denied anymore of its expanse. It was also obvious that it surrounded the island where the vessel sat half circled by the light stone structure that appeared to be some type of monument.

Something was askew here and he knew it. He realized that over the many years he was absent from here that there must have been numerous changes in this strange world, but this appeared to be a change he had never bargained for. The swamp had been drained into a lake these humans had surely gouged from the earth..