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The Killing of Miguel

Page 20

by Christopher Mcafee


  The good employee that he was, Raphael insisted that he was needed back at work.

  I took to the kitchen and tried to butter my finger to get my Battle Ring to release its grip. I looked closer to find that it was almost in an oval shape and hopelessly misshapen to the point that it wouldn’t clear my knuckle.

  I had no option other than to fight Carlos and do my best.

  I checked in on Fernando. He looked almost comatose.

  I waited for Alexa to fall asleep. I limped downstairs with my Holy Stick, hoping that it had some “power” left in it. I sat on the back porch facing the workers’ cabins. I put on my dad’s running shoes. I checked my Battle Ring and felt Susan’s rosary beads in my pocket. The weather had been unsettled that day.

  Much like that fateful day of Father Patrick’s death.

  As I stepped off the back porch, the sky grew red, and the wind increased. The powers that be knew of an impending battle. My hands trembled. Not in anticipation, but in fear.

  I made my way to the workers’ cabin and called Carlos’s name. The door opened, and he stepped out, making his way towards me. My Battle Ring turned Crimson, and I summoned it to restore my broken body back to warrior form.

  As Carlos opened his mouth, the stench that Father Patrick and Miguel Jr. had spoken of presented itself. A serpent’s tongue emerged, and vipers swarmed at his feet.

  Once again, I summoned my Battle Ring to give me the power to defeat Evil.

  I hobbled towards Carlos and wrapped my left arm around his waist, but before I had a chance to stab him with my Holy Stick, he grabbed my right hand and threw me to the ground.

  I retreated to the house as I heard Carlos’s maniacal laugh in the background.

  A car pulled in the drive and Jackson and Patrick exited. The thunder, lightning, and wind increased as they approached me.

  “Steven!” Jackson yelled over the howling wind. “Listen to reason!”

  I yelled back: “You’re forgetting something. This is my battle! My journey! If it’s destiny that I die tonight, so be it!”

  Jackson continued protesting my decision to battle Carlos.

  I pointed my Holy Stick at him and yelled, “Thorpe! Get the Hell off my property!” The wind and lightening increased, scaring the Professor into hastily returning to his car to speed away.

  Maybe there was still power left in my wooden weapon.

  Patrick approached me. The storm seemed to ease as he spoke. “Father…Dad, Professor Thorpe has told me of your journey and of all the sacrifices you have made to make it this far. I’ve known for some time that you were a great warrior. When I was little and you would sit me on your lap, I would look at your ring and touch it. It would give me a feeling of security and confidence. When I started seminary, I saw pictures of rings―rings like the one you wear. I told Professor Thorpe that you wore one. Our last name triggered his memory, and we’ve sat for hours talking about your journey. You’ve done so much for me. Let me do something for you. Your journey is over. Let me begin mine.”

  After Patrick’s heartfelt speech, I felt my time was up. The Battle Ring that refused to release its grip for me to give to young Raphael now easily slipped from my finger. I viewed this as a sign from the church elders that they approved of my son assuming the title of St. Michael the Archangel. And it made me realize why Father Patrick had had such a hard time removing the ring to give to me. I placed the Battle Ring in his palm, just as Father Patrick had done with me many years ago. As he placed it on his finger, it seemed to brighten and be rejuvenated with power.

  “Don’t tell your mom,” I said.

  “Ok, Dad,” he replied.

  As Patrick headed for the workers’ cabin to battle Carlos, I tossed him my Holy Stick.

  I headed inside feeling defeated.

  The winds howled. and the red sky grew darker. I limped upstairs to Fernando’s room to see him writhing in pain as if Carlos had possessed him with demons. I held Fernando’s hand, and I feared for Patrick’s life as he fought an Evil being that I hoped had some kind of vulnerability.

  Alexa came into the room, worrying about the sudden storm that no weather report had predicted and praying that our roof would not fly off. She was unaware that her lone son was embattled in an epic fight to prevent Evil from ruling the earth.

  Chapter 42

  The Final Chapter

  The morning sun shone through the window, and the thick, humid air was once again prevalent. Fernando was sleeping well. I nervously walked outside to examine the damage from the storm and to see if I would be able to determine a verdict in the battle between Good and Evil.

  Much to my delight and surprise, Patrick emerged from the workers’ cabin, with his Holy Stick in his belt loop, stepping over the many banana leaves that were remnants from the storm. He looked worn, but victorious. Several children begged him to kick the ball and chase them. He did so, but quickly tired. The screen door slammed behind me, and Fernando leapt from the porch with boundless energy and replaced a tired warrior Patrick in the game.

  I walked to meet my son and give him a hug.

  Alexa appeared on the back porch in her robe and yelled, “You guys want some breakfast before we clean up this mess?”

  I knew Patrick had worked up an appetite, and without Carlos on my mind, my appetite returned.

  We both nodded and headed for the house. My cane hit an object on the ground. I stumbled, and Patrick caught me.

  It was the severed head of a harmless bush snake.

  The End

  And once again, there would be a Father Patrick who would become St. Michael and dedicate his life to fighting Evil.

  About the Author

  Christopher resides in Fremont, Ohio, USA. A self-confessed music nerd, he utilized real life experiences with a vivid imagination to write a fictional memoir, Almost Anonymous. A tale of a young musician's battle to discover the real person inside. After positive reviews he was urged to write in a genre that was more popular. He chose Horror, and “The Killing of Miguel” was written. A story of a young man seeking revenge against an Agent of the Devil (Miguel) for stealing his father's soul.

  In his spare time he enjoys spending time with his wife, Vicki and their sons Kevin, Joshua and Jacob, grandson Maxwell Christopher McAfee and their assortment of family dogs, Buddy, Bailey, Nash and Mia.

  Let’s Connect!

  Facebook:

  https://www.facebook.com/christopher.mcafee.35

  Table of Contents

  Dedication

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  About the Author

 

 

 
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