Growing Dark
Page 18
The last bit of sunlight sank away, leaving only the soft glow of fireflies and stars.
“Will I ever be reunited with her?”
Marvin wouldn’t lie to him.
“I don’t know,” he said.
Bronson sighed and urged his horse into a trot. Marvin joined him, and they rode slowly then, side by side. The fireflies whirled about them, their glow becoming like one radiant ball of warmth, guiding them back. There was comfort in that light, even though he knew his demon-hunting quests were far from over. Before entering the portal, he took one last look back at the prairie. The sky was larger than he’d ever seen it, and each star twinkled in some sort of mysterious sign. He wondered if each of them was shuttling more cosmic heroes. A breeze blew through the valley and the night air caressed his bare neck, exactly like Jill’s breath when she used to nuzzle him. He could almost smell her perfume. He looked up at those glimmering stars and remembered the words he’d had put upon his own tombstone:
Of quiet birds in circled flight, I am the soft stars that shine at night. Do not stand at my grave and cry, I am not here, I did not die.
He rode beside Marvin, the two cowboy heroes fulfilling their new destiny as death’s anteroom opened up in a blinding shimmer. He rode on, into the radiant beyond, a legend.
About the Author
Kristopher Triana is an author who specializes in horror and the macabre. Influenced as a child by B-movie poster art and late-night slasher fodder, he has been writing scary stories since his youth. Now a complete fanatic when it comes to the genre, he has been published in several anthologies and magazines.
He is also a professional dog trainer, an avid weightlifter, and a bit of a cowboy.
He lives in North Carolina with his wife.