The Beginning and the End
Chapter one
To defend against impure beings, one needs to use something pure. These things won’t kill demons, spirits, etc. but they will give time to find ways to kill them. Shotgun shells loaded with salt, like the ever popular show Supernatural demonstrates. Iron – fire pokers, anything that’s 100% pure iron. Simple tools, found in every day households, can ward off spirits.
Jonah spreads a line of salt in the doorway, glancing up when footsteps approach. The bright sun makes his golden eyes sparkle, but it blinds him momentarily. Stepping back, he places a lazy hand on the holster of his Smith & Wesson.
“Can I help you?” he inquires, peering questioningly at the stranger standing on his front porch.
She’s slim, tall – her hair curling around her face in fiery red tones. Beneath long, dark lashes her light brown eyes smile. “You can let me in,” she murmurs, and he’s mesmerized by the way her plump lips move.
“Sure,” breaking out of his daze, he steps aside. “Just…come across the salt line.”
Somewhere in the distance a loud bang reverberates through the woods, startling the woman as she steps through the threshold. Her heel drags through the salt, slicing an open line. Panicking, Jonah quickly refills it; but not until something rushes past his head, an invisible thing blowing his shaggy hair. Clearly the woman feels it too because they share startled looks.
“How many other people are in here?” She questions, stepping further inside the house to glance around.
“Ten, maybe twelve,” Jonah murmurs as he closes the door and locks it. “There’s salt at every exit and entrance, though. Whatever got in sure as hell isn’t about to get back out.”
While he rechecks the windows in the parlor, the woman follows slowly, pointing out objects she likes within his home. When he’s finished they face each other, sizing one another up.
“I’m Claudia, by the way,” she says out of nowhere.
He blinks slowly, unsure what to say, not expecting the introduction at all. “Jonah,” he mutters, heading quickly towards the back of the house.
After checking the windows on the way, he knocks twice on a heavy wooden door and, after a suspenseful moment’s pause, it swings open. They pair hurry inside, and the door gets shut firmly behind them. He doesn’t have time to introduce Claudia to all of the ten, maybe twelve people.
On the back wall there’s a large cross hanging, stacks of Bibles sitting below it. Jonah grabs one and sits, flipping through the pages. The priest from St. Mary’s sits across from him, watching quietly.
“Hello father,” Jonah greets without looking, “Anything strange happen while I was gone?”
The Holy man takes his time replying, his wrinkled and age spotted hands wringing together. “No, why do you ask?”
Jonah looks up from Revelations and stares hard at the father. “Something got into the house when I let our new guest in,”
The room falls silent and Jonah curses himself for speaking so loudly. All eyes are on him, but the most slanted and annoyed pair belongs to Claudia, apparently insulted – assuming. But beneath those emotions, he sees guilt brewing.
~
Jonah spreads a line of salt in the doorway, glancing up when footsteps approach. The bright sun makes his golden eyes sparkle, but it blinds him momentarily. Stepping back, he places a lazy hand on the holster of his Smith & Wesson.
“Can I help you?” he inquires, peering questioningly at the stranger standing on his front porch.
She’s slim, tall – her hair curling around her face in fiery red tones. Beneath long, dark lashes her light brown eyes smile. “You can let me in,” she murmurs, and he’s mesmerized by the way her plump lips move.
“Sure,” breaking out of his daze, he steps aside. “Just…come across the salt line.”
Somewhere in the distance a loud bang reverberates through the woods, startling the woman as she steps through the threshold. Her heel drags through the salt, slicing an open line. Panicking, Jonah quickly refills it; but not until something rushes past his head, an invisible thing blowing his shaggy hair. Clearly the woman feels it too because they share startled looks.
“How many other people are in here?” She questions, stepping further inside the house to glance around.
“Ten, maybe twelve,” Jonah murmurs as he closes the door and locks it. “There’s salt at every exit and entrance, though. Whatever got in sure as hell isn’t about to get back out.”
While he rechecks the windows in the parlor, the woman follows slowly, pointing out objects she likes within his home. When he’s finished they face each other, sizing one another up.
“I’m Claudia, by the way,” she says out of nowhere.
He blinks slowly, unsure what to say, not expecting the introduction at all. “Jonah,” he mutters, heading quickly towards the back of the house.
After checking the windows on the way, he knocks twice on a heavy wooden door and, after a suspenseful moment’s pause, it swings open. They pair hurry inside, and the door gets shut firmly behind them. He doesn’t have time to introduce Claudia to all of the ten, maybe twelve people.
On the back wall there’s a large cross hanging, stacks of Bibles sitting below it. Jonah grabs one and sits, flipping through the pages. The priest from St. Mary’s sits across from him, watching quietly.
“Hello father,” Jonah greets without looking, “Anything strange happen while I was gone?”
The Holy man takes his time replying, his wrinkled and age spotted hands wringing together. “No, why do you ask?”
Jonah looks up from Revelations and stares hard at the father. “Something got into the house when I let our new guest in,”
The room falls silent and Jonah curses himself for speaking so loudly. All eyes are on him, but the most slanted and annoyed pair belongs to Claudia, apparently insulted – assuming. But beneath those emotions, he sees guilt brewing.