The Wrath Walker
Matthew Newson
Published by Matthew Newson, 2021.
This is a work of fiction. Similarities to real people, places, or events are entirely coincidental.
THE WRATH WALKER
First edition. April 8, 2021.
Copyright © 2021 Matthew Newson.
Written by Matthew Newson.
Table of Contents
Title Page
Copyright Page
Dedication
The Wrath Walker
Chapter One | Luciferian High Priest
Chapter Two | Brandon Farmer
Chapter Three | Brandon Farmer
Chapter Four | Brandon Farmer
Chapter Five | Skeeter Amara
Chapter Six | Brandon Farmer
Chapter Seven | Wrath
Chapter Eight | Brandon Farmer
Chapter Nine | Wrath
Chapter Ten | Luciferian High Priest
Chapter Eleven | Brandon Farmer
Chapter Twelve | Brandon Farmer
Chapter Thirteen | Skeeter Amara
Chapter Fourteen | Brandon Farmer
Chapter Fifteen | Brandon Farmer
Chapter Sixteen | Wrath
Chapter Seventeen | Skeeter Amara
Chapter Eighteen | Brandon Farmer
Chapter Nineteen | Brandon Farmer
Chapter Twenty | Brandon Farmer
Chapter Twenty-One | Brandon Farmer
Chapter Twenty-Two | Brandon Farmer
Chapter Twenty-Three | Brandon Farmer
Chapter Twenty-Four | Brandon Farmer
Chapter Twenty-Five | Brandon Farmer
Chapter Twenty-Six | Brandon Farmer
Coming Fall 2021
About the Author
I dedicate this book to my father. Without him, the world of the Wrath Walker could not have been brought to life. Thank you for always being there for me, dad.
As always, I thank my readers.
1 Follow God’s example, therefore, as dearly loved children 2 and walk in the way of love, just as Christ loved us and gave himself up for us as a fragrant offering and sacrifice to God.
3 But among you there must not be even a hint of sexual immorality, or of any kind of impurity, or of greed, because these are improper for God’s holy people. 4 Nor should there be obscenity, foolish talk or coarse joking, which are out of place, but rather thanksgiving. 5 For of this you can be sure: No immoral, impure or greedy person—such a person is an idolater—has any inheritance in the kingdom of Christ and of God. 6 Let no one deceive you with empty words, for because of such things God’s wrath comes on those who are disobedient.
7 Therefore do not be partners with them.
8 For you were once darkness, but now you are light in the Lord. Live as children of light 9 (for the fruit of the light consists in all goodness, righteousness and truth) 10 and find out what pleases the Lord. 11 Have nothing to do with the fruitless deeds of darkness, but rather expose them. 12 It is shameful even to mention what the disobedient do in secret. 13 But everything exposed by the light becomes visible—and everything that is illuminated becomes a light.
Ephesians 5:1-13 (NIV)
Chapter One
Luciferian High Priest
Den of Sacrifice
A WAVE OF EXCITEMENT filled me as I stood in the Den of Sacrifice.
It was a white room with pentagrams painted in red on all four walls, floor, and ceiling, and an altar of sacrifice positioned directly in the center of the room. I couldn’t get the smile off my face, even if I wanted to, as I meticulously cleaned the blood from my ceremonial dagger. My elders had just returned from the specialized furnace where they’d disposed of the body from the night’s sacrifice that Lucifer had requested. The ceremony continued to lay the groundwork for Lucifer’s ultimate plan for the city. I had performed and overseen many of those sacrificial rituals at Lucifer’s request over the years. He said only the blood of certain individuals could accomplish all he had hoped and dreamt about for years, and I longed to be a vital part in helping him accomplish his goals. That night had a greater significance than others, because I had a vision when my men exited the room.
“By the smile on your face I take it you are pleased with how the events of this evening went,” one of my elders said to me as he adjusted his robe. We all wore black robes with hoods that completely covered our faces. Mine was the exception, because it was trimmed with gold that communicated to the group that I was above them in authority and power. Those were my most trusted men who were all handpicked by Lucifer to aid me in my service to him. We never called each other by name in that room, just in case an outsider listened, but for so much more. We were Lucifer’s nameless and faceless followers who were destined to help remake the world in his image, and thereby save all of humanity from the lies of other spirit beings that had been promulgated by man for generations.
“Yes, my dear friend I am more than happy, because I had a vision from Lucifer the moment you all left to dispose of the remains of the sacrifice.”
They were all silent and in awe as they all wanted to know what I had seen, but none of them wanted to be the first to ask and appear weak and needy. After I felt they all had experienced the proper amount of suspense, I told them of what I had been shown.
“Lucifer came to me and told me how pleased he was by our unwavering and loyal dedication to his cause of purifying the city, and the time has come to offer up the ultimate sacrifice. This person’s life will be relieved upon the altar before us on a night not long from now. Lucifer said we would know when the time was right, because this person would come here to us on their own.”
All my elders seemed more than satisfied with that revelation.
“Is there anything we need to do to prepare for that momentous night, sir?”
“Yes. We must remain vigilant to not give ourselves away, because there are still people in the city who could potentially stop us. Many of them go to that infernal Holy Anointed Church, so be mindful when you interact with anyone who attends service there. Also, Lucifer warned that other spirit beings might try to interfere and stop the good work we are trying to accomplish, so we must be ever watchful, so no one suspects a thing about who we really are. Fear not my friends, because once the blood of the ultimate sacrifice is spilled out upon the sacred altar, this city will be cleansed. The purifying flow will not stop until it has gone out across the entire earth, and only then, will the human race be truly free.”
We all took a moment and offered up prayers in other tongues to Lucifer, the true lover of mans’ souls.
I still remembered the day quite fondly when I realized and accepted there was no God of the Bible. I felt the heavy yoke of oppression lifted off my shoulders as I embraced Lucifer’s hand in friendship. There truly wasn’t another being that existed anywhere in the universe like him who was so caring, loving, and accepting.
There were merely petty spiritual beings who fought over controlling humans, but Lucifer was the only one who didn’t seek to control people, but to enlighten them to be like him. That is what my elders and myself were, the enlightened ones. We were working with and not for a great entity to cleanse the damage and devastation caused by people who ignorantly served the God of the Bible. They had caused so much destruction to the world through their worship and actions of an entity that was not who they believed him to be, that it had spilled out into the natural realm, corrupting everything as it did. I motioned for a bottle of wine to be opened and served to all of us so I could make a declaration before my elders.
“Everyone, please raise your glasses with me in fellowship. In
what may feel like an eternity, but in reality, will be just a short amount of time, Lucifer will bring the ultimate sacrifice to us. As they breathe their last breath upon the earth, they will fulfill their purpose. The spirit realm will finally be cleansed, and Lucifer will bring his light to the city. Once his light shines bright throughout this land, it will flow throughout the world. Then he will reward us with power and eternal life as he remakes us in his image.”
My elders and I let out a triumphant shout, as we raised our glasses to each other in friendship. As we drank the red wine which they contained, I imagined the person dead upon the stone altar, and a smile returned to my face once more. I had waited a lifetime for what was about to take place.
All I had to do was make sure none of my elders, the idiotic people of that church, the residents of the city, or other spirit beings messed things up for me.
Chapter Two
Brandon Farmer
The City of Black Castle – Pennsylvania
“I FOUND WHAT YOUR HUSBAND’S been up to, Mrs. Vaughn.” I slowly slid the closed manila folder over my worn desk to the beautiful and well-dressed young woman across from me. Her radiant blue eyes fought the tears already prepared to stream forth from the bad news she expected to see in the folder, and oh, how truly terrible it was. Her perfectly manicured hand pushed back the strands of blonde hair from her face, and then opened the folder.
Paper clipped to one side were my meticulously typed notes of the days, times, places, and notations to the corresponding pictures to who Mr. Vaughn had been spending his time with. He had fed his gorgeous wife the same tired old line all cheaters did, that he had to start traveling more for work. Then there was my personal favorite of the unexpected meeting at five o’clock that seemed to be happening all too often. The only place that guy traveled and stayed late at was to any place he could find to bed down someone else instead of his wife, who clearly loved the man. I learned in that business that some people, no matter how good their life was, seemed to think the grass was greener on the other side. Then there were others who were so selfish and self-centered that they truly believed they were owed the right to be unfaithful. I used to wish the worst for people like that until the day I realized that no matter what, those people would never be happy. But it still didn’t give them the right to hurt others while they stewed in their own misery from their terrible life choices.
As she looked at the various pictures neatly stacked on the other side of the folder, she began to say things under her breath while large tears dropped from her eyes on to her dark purple dress. I handed her some tissues to wipe her eyes and slid the complimentary box I kept toward her, like I had done for all my other clients. I had purchased so many boxes of the high-end aloe vera tissues that I should have bought stock in the company. As she continued to softly cry before me, I sat back and thought about how my life had been so degraded from being a well-respected detective to a lowly private investigator catching petty, cheating spouses. My story was truly a magnificent fall from grace, and one that I had shed many tears over in those dark moments of self-loathing and despair. I had even cried myself to sleep on a number of occasions, but I had cried all the tears that a person could shed in their lifetime. I had become somewhat numb to my own pain, and to the misery of others as well. That was how I coped with everyday life.
I cleared my throat to cut the tension that also accompanied those types of meetings, so I could get things moving again. I discovered if I didn’t push things along in a timely fashion, the person across the desk from me would sit there all day crying and asking themselves, and eventually me, the question of why it happened. “I’m sorry to be the one to tell you this Mrs. Vaughn, but as you can clearly see here your suspicions were correct, and your husband is cheating on you—with multiple women in fact.”
“Why...wh...why would he do this to me? I’m not a bad wife. I’ve never been unfaithful, and I have always taken care of him. We were high school sweethearts. We were voted most likely to stay together forever.” The sobs returned with a vengeance while she viewed the pictures with the time sheet next to them.
Married young, then my suspicions were correct. It was always the same when a spouse who married young started cheating because they felt like they had missed out on things that others had done in their younger years. Apparently, having someone to love and spend the rest of your life with had become a thing those people had decided to look upon with contempt. If I had married Mrs. Vaughn, I would have never made her cry like she was at that moment, but she wasn’t my wife, and it did me no favors to think like that.
“Well ma’am, I didn’t talk to the man. I make it a point to never let the individual know that they are being surveilled because things tend to get messy if they catch me. But if I had to guess you two got married right out of high school. Correct?”
Mrs. Vaughn wiped the tears from her eyes and nodded yes as she looked away from me while guilt and shame started to overtake her.
“Okay, and you two have been married now for about ten to twelve years?”
“Yes, we just celebrated our twelfth wedding anniversary. We took a trip back to where we went on our honeymoon, but what does that have to do with my husband running around on me?” She appeared to be completely tormented by my line of questioning.
“Now, this doesn’t make it right, but I’m speaking from past investigative experience here. If I had to guess his motive for doing this, is he got married young, hit his thirties, and he kind of melted down. He was probably having thoughts like he has never been with any other women than you, and he wanted to see what it was like to be with someone else. I bet he has friends or even co-workers that run around with several different women, and he began to want to be a part of what they were doing.”
“How do you know that?” she snapped back at me with a pained expression on her face.
“Because I have seen it more times than I can count. Also, based off of some of the meetups that were in a bar where he had a girl with him, and what appears to be several male friends all with a female companion.” I reached over and slid some photos out from behind the others for her to look at. “Do any of these gentlemen or women look familiar to you?”
As she took in each one of the photos, the sadness drained from her face, and her eyes widened in anger.
“I know those men, and some of those women too! They all work for my husband at his company. I met them all at the Christmas parties, and other work functions he took me to. They did this, they are the ones responsible for leading my husband astray!”
“That might be true, or the more obvious explanation is your husband is using his position at work as a high-level manager, and trading promotions for sexual favors. One of the times I stood next to him at the bar, when he had his back to me, I overheard him telling the woman that if she took care of him, then he would take care of her at the office. If you know what I mean, and again, I’m very sorry to be the one to tell you these things.”
“No. no. no. no. no,” was all she got out before her uncontrolled sobs and wails filled my small, ill-furnished office.
I hated that part the most, when the betrayed spouse tries to briefly deny the truth before breaking under the weight of the revelation they had to accept because it was staring them in the face. I couldn’t stand it when people cried in front of me, and I tried to look around for something to focus on until the horrific moment passed. Unfortunately, the only window was located behind me, so I couldn’t face it without appearing cold and callous to her plight. Which I wasn’t really because I wanted her husband to pay for what he had done. But when they cried, aside from making me uncomfortable, it always reminded me of the one I had deeply loved and lost. So, I distracted myself to try and not feel my own internal pain that I fought so hard to dull every day. I bounced my gaze between my common green house plant on a stand, the beige walls, my framed private investigator license, a small couch, and finally my two-tiered bookshelf filled with my law books that I had
read from cover to cover and referenced many times. Truth be told, I had committed a lot of what was in those books to memory. They were great sources of legal information, and a helpful distraction on the nights when my mind wanted to dwell on all the things I had lost.
I ran out of things to distract myself from her cries of why, and the relentless tears were starting to get to me. For a brief moment, I wanted to hold her in my arms, and tell her everything was going to be alright, and that she was still young and beautiful, and that moving on wouldn’t be hard for her. But she didn’t hire me to be her life coach, and that wouldn’t be the professional thing to do. Her decision to try and work it out or leave him had to be her choice and hers alone. That look of hurt and betrayal on her face reminded me of the last time I talked to Lizzie. She had the same look of hurt on her face, and I desperately needed it to end before I started down memory lane to a long and sleepless night of my face buried in those law books.
I didn’t have to wait long because she took in the long deep breath which signaled they were coming to a stopping point in their crying, and it was the opening I needed to get her out of my office. She straightened in the chair and pushed back the hair from her face to dry her eyes. As her mouth opened to form the words I just don’t understand, I jumped in and cut her off before she had a chance to utter them.
I spoke in a calm and even tone which helped to deescalate the moment and bring our meeting to a close. “Mrs. Vaughn, again, I am very sorry about all of this. You truly deserve better, and I would love for you to stay, but I do have another client coming in soon that I need to get ready for.”
Tears still slowly streamed down her face as she nodded and accepted the meeting was over and it was time for her to leave. I stood up and walked around the desk, neatly stacked the photos, and secured them in the folder. I closed it and handed it to Mrs. Vaughn—along with some more tissues.
The Wrath Walker (The Wrath Series Book 1) Page 1