by Jacob Rundle
“Whose return?” Henri insisted.
“Their return…the Old Ones,” the mystery man told Henri with such displeasure that every single person in the room shivered at the mentioning of their name. Henri observed their reactions and continued to question others.
“Who are the Old Ones?”
The energy of the room instantly changed the moment he asked them about the Old Ones. Sensing the tenseness in the air, he continued to question the others. “Who are they?”
“You said the other three?” Henri continued firing question after question.
The same male Ancestor ignored Henri’s question, and he continued with his story.
“You must understand the severity of the situation, Henri. If the Old Ones are successful with their return, they will kill every single thing on Earth. And they will not stop with your destruction. The Old Ones will eliminate any chance of rebirth. They will devour any and all ancestral connections and magic-” Henri interrupted the man. “So, you are telling me that three others and I are destined to stop the coming of the Old Ones?” Henri needed confirmation before he reacted.
“No, they are already coming, Henri. Your job is to defeat them when they get here,” The Ancestors answered.
“How am I to do this?” Henri felt the coming of a mental breakdown.
“That information is above us, Henri. It cannot be explained at this moment,” he informed him.
“Well, can you tell me how I am supposed to find the other members of my boy band?” Henri hated the plan, and he was lost as what to do.
“We do not find your sarcasm amusing, Henri.” Abigail was clearly furious at Henri’s lack of respect.
“I’m sorry, but it is hard to believe that a simple boy from Denver is destined to stop these creatures from destroying everything in known existence.” Henri regretted asking for any of the destiny stuff.
“Child, come here. You will see what we are saying.” A new mysterious woman appeared from the back of the group. Her image was that of a Shakti priestess. The garments resembled the clothing from a Bollywood film he had watched last week. She stood before him.
“Henri, my name is Adhira.” As she introduced herself, she placed her index finger on Henri’s forehead, and she uttered a single word: “Open.”
The instant she uttered the word, Henri’s head felt as if it was cracked opened as vivid images rushed before his eyes. The reciprocating sounds pierced every atom of his body. Enormous, monstrous figures…creatures appeared suddenly. These creatures were destroying civilizations within the blink of an eye, without hesitation. The only ruminants of the destruction were orbs of celestial lights that had originally been living human beings. These creatures started to devour the souls as if they were at a Sunday dinner at Grandma’s.
Thoughts rushed through Henri’s head. He wanted to scream from all of the pain. He felt each individual’s pain, he heard their former thoughts, and he saw past memories.
Henri saw the blue light emanating from strange symbols that mysteriously appeared on his arms and hands. He couldn’t control the light. It grew brighter and brighter. He felt as though the light itself was making him connect with the souls in the vision. The light was a conduit for Henri.
“Stop! I can’t take anymore!” Henri screamed loudly in his head. The blue light forcibly kept him connected to the visions.
From the shadows of the nothingness appeared four individuals cloaked in the smoke from the debris. They stood tall against the darkened creatures as their destinies so required. Henri wondered how four mere humans were supposed to stop such monsters.
The monsters existed before “modern” religion and folklore. Henri saw death at every corner. He felt numb, and somehow, Death itself had been devoured as well. All that remained were the four individuals who had endured countless tragedies. The only thing they had left was each other and the destiny that bound them.
Adhira removed her finger from Henri’s forehead, and she asked, “Now do you understand?”
The level of emotion that Henri felt after the premonition was immeasurable and horrifying. He was unable to fully process what he had just seen. Tears flowed down his cheeks as if he was whitewater rafting in the depths of his soul, and his eyes were becoming ominously swollen due to the devastation that he had just witnessed.
“That is your future, Henri. Those are the Old Ones. Now, does this still seem to be amusing to you?” Abigail swooped in and inquired.
“No. It wasn’t funny at all.” Henri wished he hadn’t seen any of the vision.
“It is time that you wake, Prophet, and you must fulfill your destiny. The fate of all existence depends on you,” Adhira persisted.
Caisus approached Henri. “It is time for you to return. You now know what Siméon knows, and now is the time where you find the others. You must begin preparing for their arrival.”
Henri blinked his eyes and within moments found himself back in Siméon’s apartment. Siméon stared at Henri; he looked devastated. Henri was left with more fear and anxiety, but he was instantly relieved to find himself back with Siméon.
“How long was I gone?” Henri rambled, trying to gather his bearings.
“You’ve been gone for an hour.” Etlina answered.
Henri looked around Siméon’s apartment, and he spotted a framed picture of the same African woman who had been painted on the side of the farmhouse.
Siméon sat by Henri in order to aid him. He wiped the sweat off Henri’s forehead. He offered Henri a piece of bread, and he whispered, “Eat this, Henri. It’ll help you.”
“Thank you, Siméon,” Henri replied with faked calmness.
Henri accepted the bread while Siméon rubbed his back, ensuring that Henri gathered his senses before they continued with their conversation. Siméon could sense Henri’s disposition.
“Siméon, what did I just see?” Henri asked, holding his breath.
“Our future, Henri,” Siméon answered easily.
CHAPTER 13
SUNDAY MORNING
Henri lay in his bed, mulling over the events with the Ancestors the day prior. The vision that Adhira had given him left him searching for more answers. He felt overwhelmed by the expectations from life, and now, by the expectations of the Ancestors. He wanted only to stay at home so he could process the information that he’d received.
“Honey! Are you up?” his mother yelled from downstairs.
“Yeah, Mom. I am awake.” Henri dreaded starting the day.
“You have a phone call. It’s a girl. She says her name is Etlina.” His mother couldn’t hide her excitement.
“I’ll take the call up here, Mom. Thanks!” Henri replied.
Henri picked up the phone. “Hello?”
“Henri? It’s Etlina. I’m sorry to call you so early. I’m wondering if you’re free sometime today?” Henri sensed some urgency in her voice, so he felt as though he had better agree.
“Sure, I have to do something with my mom first, but I am free after. We can meet up around 6 pm? Is that okay with you?” Henri asked.
“Sounds perfect. Let’s meet at the café. I will see you then, Henri.” Henri wished that she knew about the craziness in his life, so he could speak with her about it all.
The moment that Henri hung up the phone, he heard his mother’s footsteps coming up the stairs toward his room. She arrived outside his door and announced to him, “Honey, we have church in forty minutes. I hope you are getting ready.”
“Okay, Mom. I am getting ready. I will be right down.” Henri hated that his mother ignored his feelings about church, but he felt that he needed to please her.
Henri stood in his bathroom, getting ready for the day when he saw his reflection in the mirror. He remembered the last time that he stared into his mirror - he had projected to the future where he saw some of the most horrific images that he had ever seen.
He still heard the screams of Tim Stevenson ringing in his mind. Henri tried diligently to not think of the events
of that day, but he found that it became harder when he tried to not think of him.
Henri firmly believed that Tim didn’t deserve the death that he received. Rather, no one deserved such a fate. He stopped brushing his teeth to look at the person on the other side of the mirror. Someone he didn’t recognize any longer.
He peered into the eyes of a figure that had the fate of the universe in his hands, and the guidance of otherworldly beings. The only part of the entire situation he truly felt sorrow for was for the death of Tim Stevenson.
“Henri, you ready?” His mother startled him, making him drop toothpaste onto his shirt. He couldn’t believe how he was beginning his morning.
“Yeah. Give me a second, Mom,” Henri tried to clean his shirt, but the stain was too deep. He rushed to find another shirt so that he and his Mom could make their way to church.
As they got into his car, his mother glanced at the clock.
“Henri, we are going to be late.” His mother wasn’t pleased that they were running thirty minutes late.
“Mom, it’ll be fine. I already apologized.” He didn’t understand why she was upset because he knew that they were still going to be early.
“I told Father Stevenson that we’d be there early to set things up.” Henri wasn’t in the mood for his mother’s attitude. This moment was one of the times that he wished that she knew about what was truly going on in his life.
“Mom, we will still get there early.” Henri then kept quiet as she continued with her verbal tirade.
In the distance, Henri saw the church over the trees, and he released a sigh of relief because he knew when they reached the church, his mother’s demeanor would change.
“Finally,” she remarked under her breath. Henri despised when his mother turned into the evil church monster that she had become since his father’s death.
They were approaching the church’s parking lot when Henri had a flash of his time in the future. He slammed on the brakes, causing him and his mom to jolt forward. He examined his surroundings, making sure that his mom wasn’t hurt.
“Mom, you okay?” Henri’s heart pounded profusely with sweat running down his face.
“Henri, what the…” She wasn’t pleased by her son’s abrupt stop. His mother looked as though she wanted to scream at him, but she exited the car.
“Park the car. I’ll be inside.” She walked towards the entrance of the church.
Henri parked the car, and slowly ascended toward the church. He couldn’t believe what he saw. He walked around the building to reach the front when he felt a pressure in his head.
The pressure intensified the closer he got to the church.
“What the…” Henri examined the front of the church, but he didn’t know why he had a headache. He had an unyielding feeling that he had been to the church.
He walked towards the steps when he had a vigorous, vibrating feeling in the pit of his stomach. He swiftly turned around to see who was behind him, but he saw no one. He studied the area for something, but he only saw the parked cars of the people who had also arrived early.
He headed back towards the entrance of the church till he felt a cool breeze rush over his body, forcing each hair on his body to stand on end. He knew what this feeling meant, so he became alert. He heard the same mottled breathing as before on his front porch, and he knew he had to get inside the church.
“This can’t be.” He thought hard for the answer, but he couldn’t think of anything.
He rushed up the front steps when a sharp pain stabbed him in the head. He saw the future to which he projected. He saw the same destroyed exterior.
“It can’t be…” Henri gasped as he connected where he had gone to where he was. He stood frozen at the threshold of the church.
His mother opened the door, hurrying him into the entrance. She stood in his way, looking him over, wondering what took him so long.
Henri stared at his mother, wishing that he could tell her why he was late. He couldn’t tell her that the same thing that followed him home was outside the church, and he now had an idea as to what it was. He also wanted to tell her that the church to which he projected was the same church in which they stood.
The other bit of information was that Henri now knew who Tim Stevenson was.
His mom opened the service doors to reveal the interior of the church, and he peeked inside the room to see a man delivering a sermon. He locked eyes with that man.
Henri almost fell to the ground when he realized whom the man was. He became confused about whether he was in the future or the past. Tim Stevenson was standing at the podium, giving the sermon.
“No way,” Henri mumbled under his breath as he saw the man from the future who died not ten feet away from where he was standing. He slowly shut the door, and he worried how the next few hours were going to be.
CHAPTER 14
“Honey, hurry up. Father Stevenson always hates it when we are late to his service,” Henri’s mother barked while she rushed to her usual pew.
“Mom, we will make it. I am sure Father Stevenson will understand.” Henri thought his mother’s reaction was ridiculous, and she saw him roll his eyes. As a result, she glared back at him.
After settling in their seats, Henri looked back toward the entrance. He couldn’t remove the eerie feeling that the thing was outside, waiting for him. His heartbeat quickened, causing his paranoia to surface from its dark depths.
“Henri, pay attention. Father Stevenson’s service has started,” His mother nudged him on the shoulder.
“I’m sorry mom,” Henri never liked the person his mother was when she was around other people.
“Is something wrong?” She wanted to keep the tensions low, and she didn’t want to argue with Henri again.
“No, I am fine. I was just daydreaming. I’ll pay attention now,” Henri begrudgingly whispered.
Father Stevenson opened his mouth and praised, “There comes a time in everyone’s life when they start to question their faith. They ask themselves if there is a God?”
Henri found it difficult to retain his focus on the sermon when he knew that the Church didn’t support him. He did, however, kept an eye on Father Stevenson. He wondered what happened to him in order for him to have lost his faith. A religious man losing his faith was a major warning of things to come.
“If there is a God, then why are there horrible things in this world? Well, my loved people, we, as a collective, must understand that God has given us free will. And our actions are what they are because we have chosen to do good or evil. I am not saying that God doesn’t intervene or punish those who have chosen wrong. God is like a parent. He allows us to make a decision and to follow through with our decision, and the outcome is how He determines whether or not He is proud or upset. We all have our own destinies, and the decision to follow through with one’s decision or not is completely on the individual.” Henri was relieved when he saw the Father step down off his pedestal, and he made his way through the crowd.
His words closely mimicked those of the Ancestors. Henri had a million questions racing through his head concerning his destiny and the effects of not fulfilling his duties.
Father Stevenson’s enthusiasm dragged Henri back into reality. “Now! Please give your attention to the St. Lucia’s Gospel Choir!”
Henri felt a nauseating motion pulsate in his stomach. Simultaneously, he started to hear a buzzing in his left ear. The annoying sound intensified as time continued to pass, keeping Henri from paying attention to the choir.
Henri wiggled his finger his ears in an effort to muffle the ringing sound. He surveyed the room to see if he could find the cause of the noise, but he only saw people singing along with the choir. For him, it was an obnoxious ringing. He looked up to the stained glass, mosaic window above the Father. The image of Metatron personified was standing tall and stoic with what appeared to be white feathers extending out for miles.
Henri continued examining the intricate, colored patterns of t
he window. The colors appeared to increase in brightness. He wondered if anyone else noticed. Of course, no one else seemed to take note of the display. Then, the colors began to flow and took on the appearance of silk fabrics.
Henri couldn’t believe his eyes. The entire mosaic window burst into a million pieces, and every piece of glass was instantly frozen in place. No one outside of what was happening noticed that the window shattered. Unfortunately, the buzzing only continued to get louder and louder. The sound nearly caused Henri to blackout.
In the center of the recently shattered window floated a tiny pearl of celestial white translucent orb. His gaze was transfixed. Henri feared that Death had come to collect his soul, yet he couldn’t run if given the chance; its force paralyzed him.
“Dear child, rest assured that it is not your time to perish. However, now is the time to listen to my words.” The light shimmered brighter than a star, almost blinding Henri.
“Who are you?” Henri tried to move his legs, but the light held him in place.
“Who am I? Not a second ago you were admiring an image of me as if I was human,” the mysterious yet angelic voice remarked.
“What?” Henri thought maybe it was the same thing that was following him.
“No, Henri. I didn’t follow you.” The light moved to the center of the room, floating near the apex of the church.
The entire time the voice was speaking to him, Henri still heard the ringing in his ears. The sight of the orb was addictively mesmerizing. He couldn’t believe the forcefulness of the voice, reminding him of the blue light from the ocean.
“Child, now is the time of my visit to you. Before we continue with our conversation, I require that you understand to whom you are speaking. No one in millennia has ever heard or seen me.” Henri’s paralysis seemed to increase in severity the longer the voice addressed him.