Christopher ran against a darkening sky, making his way toward the alleyway from before. The memory of the conspicuously placed article in the library taunted and teased him. As he hurried, the faces of his family began to materialize in passersby. Their lifeless expressions, cold and hard, watched Chris from the faces of strangers, pedestrians and from children playing in the grass. He knew that the images were mere illusions. But they pained him nonetheless.
Chris turned his attention to the new and compelling desire that welled within him, to find the strange man; the man who had looked familiar to Chris, but who ran away. Something about the encounter puzzled Chris. He couldn't help but feel that the stranger was connected to the wanton murder of his family. Chris began to run harder. His determined feet fell heavy upon the hot asphalt. He thought of Sam's warning to put aside the vengeance within him. But try as he might, the need to find the killer burned inside of Christopher like an insidious fire.
Barely winded, Chris reached his destination behind the alleyway. It had grown dark. Behind the coffee shop was not a soul to be found. This realization became ever more literal as Chris peered into the spirit realm but saw nothing of consequence. Disappointed, Chris lowered his gaze. Night had come, and with it the call to rest. But for Chris there was no place to go. He realized how alone and isolated he had felt since his resurrection. The world, once his companion in life, seemed foreign to him now.
Chris began to walk south. He walked alone in silence like the quiet raven that flew above him. In his mind's eye Christopher recalled the events of that dark and terrible night. The night that he found the broken bodies of Rachel and his daughters...
Christopher had just purchased Madison's birthday present. He had expected to share the news with Rachel first, but had been unable to reach her by phone all day. In playful anticipation he imagined giving the gift to Madison. In his mind's eye he saw her broadening brown eyes and widening smile. But the magic of the moment died that day when Chris opened the splintered door and crossed the bloody threshold into his home. The smell of death permeated the still air. And the quaintly wrapped present, just a few moments after he entered, fell silently from his hands onto the stained floor.
As the painful memory of their deaths surfaced in Christopher's mind he realized that he was no longer walking, but was standing at the foot of a broad and weathered concrete stairway. He had lost track of time and from the height of the moon guessed that he had walked for miles. Before him rose the stately tower of the Second Ward Chapel building. This ward house, with its gothic revival style and its gold colored brick, was very familiar to Chris. It was in fact, Rachel's home ward. Chris gazed upward in astonishment and saw the raven which had been following him.
Christopher felt uneasy about the bird which sat perched atop the highest parapet wall. Cocking its head to one side, the ominous avian spied him from above. Chris returned its wary glare, and then whistled. But the bird, with a rustle of its feathers, only scoffed at Christopher's attempt to communicate, then flew away. Seeking solitude, Chris decided to try the front door of the chapel but found it locked. Undeterred, he went to the back of the building where he found a wall mounted ladder. He ascended the iron rails to the rooftop and looked out to the city beyond.
Chris thought to pray to his Heavenly Father for guidance. He knew that he was troubled. He had let hatred harden his heart and he felt ashamed. Chris tried to pray, but the words would not come. Christopher tried again, kneeling this time, when a dark and heavy cloud settled over him. The hair on Christopher's neck stood to attention and a sensation of chilled electricity ran down his spine. He was paralyzed and, suddenly, filled with a terrible fear. Chris was near panic when he felt a presence, a sinister and treacherous manifestation from behind. Before Christopher could turn to face the dark visitor it spoke. "Hello brother" And the words, as they pierced the night air, filled Chris with a dread beyond reason.
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9:45
The Saynt - Episode 9 - The Fallen Oneby TheSayntPodcast30 views
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