Allan Young stared at the foreign reflection in the mirror. A week had passed, and he still couldn’t get used to the green eyes staring back at him. No matter how much the dark voice of the Leviathan tried to console him, Allan wanted nothing more than to be back in his own body.
An audible click followed by a whirring sound echoed through the small cell as the gate slid open.
“Let’s go James.” The correctional officer instructed, “You’ve been released.”
Since the so-called ‘Rapture’ last week, the prison had been critically short on correctional officers. Many of them had disappeared in their sleep, while others were attacked by the eerie bolts of blue lightning while still on duty. Most of the prisoners had remained, leading the warden to make a difficult decision to begin releasing non-essential detainees.
Over the past week Allan had learned that the body he was possessing belonged to none other than the famous televangelist James Turnbridge, who had been detained a few months ago on trumped-up charges of Tax Evasion. Whether or not the charges were valid didn’t matter. He wasn’t a serial killer or an ax murderer, so with their limited staff the prison couldn’t keep holding him.
As he passed through the hall he made eye contact with the inmates. Their reactions were strange. Many of them pressed their hands together in the universal symbol of worship and bowed their heads slightly.
This is ridiculous!
Allan wanted nothing more than to tell them to stop, but he could feel the Leviathan’s influence suppressing his tongue. The brooding voice in his mind urged him to embrace his new role as the leader of this cult. No matter how much he wanted to fight it, Allan was forced to comply with the Leviathan’s commands.
The correctional officer placed his index finger on another scanner, causing the outer doors of the prison to slide open. The sound was deafening. Just beyond the courtyard gates, hundreds of protesters had gathered.
“What’s going on?!” Allan asked in alarm.
“Your followers have come to greet your return.” the officer sighed in annoyance, “Go reclaim your flock.”
Allan stared at the crowd hesitantly. As he followed the officer toward the gates, he became temporarily blinded by the barrage of camera flashes coming from a large throng of paparazzi and reporters. When they reached the gate, Allan was unprepared for what happened next. The officer quickly unlocked the gate, and with a shove Allan was thrown into the crowd. Allan turned just in time to see a smile and a wave from the officer as he slammed the gate shut.
“Pastor Turnbridge,” a microphone was shoved into his face, “How did you accurately predict last week’s Rapture?”
Another reporter, “Billions of people are missing. Did they all make it to heaven? Are they coming back?”
A third reporter, “The governments of the world have collapsed. Gangs are taking over all of the major cities. You’re our only hope! What do we do now?”
The questions were now coming so fast that he couldn’t decipher them anymore. The flashes of light were overwhelming. Allan wanted to curl up in a ball and hide… but then he felt the power of the Leviathan swelling up inside him. He felt a warmth as his skin appeared to glow. Shadows swelled around his feet, lifting him into the air. A hush fell over the crowd.
Allan’s voice suddenly boomed, “The seventh seal has opened! Prepare yourselves for the return of The Ancient Ones!”
Warfare (DarkForce: A GameLit Saga)
Copyright © 2021 R. M. Mulder
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