I'm back! It's been way too long.
After finishing a childrens novel (in Dutch) that I am trying to get published, and a writer's block I just couldn't get rid of, I decided it was time to start a new Supernatural story. It has helped me get rid of a writer's block before, so why not try it again? This story is a sequel to 'The wall', a story I wrote after Swan Song. You should really read that to make sense of this story. I hope you like it!
The title is from 'The preacher' by Kansas.
The elderly priest moved around the familiar little church, the large painting of the final judgment looming over him. It was a defining feature of his church, that painting. In bright colors and painful detail, it depicted the fate of the sinners unfit to be raised up to heaven. Skewered, deformed, tortured and thrown into the fiery depths of hell. Although it was stunning in its craftsmanship, the priest always found it a little unsettling, especially after he turned the lights of. In the gloom, the painting seemed to be moving. Deformed creatures crawling over the surface, doomed souls clawing at the feet of the archangel that threw them down. Though he knew it was a trick of the light, the priest always left the church with his eyes cast down to the floor, avoiding the gruesome sight. As he walked to the front of the church to turn the lights of, he stopped briefly beside one of the front pews. No more than three weeks ago, a young man had sat there, staring up at the painting. A lost soul. Hurt and alone.
Sam, that was his name. The priest couldn't help but wonder what happened to him. He had seemed so lost, so helpless, and still he was determined to leave. To deal with things himself. Alone.
A few days later, his brother had come looking for him. The priest had never been more relieved in his life. He had prayed every day for that poor boy. For his brother to find him.
The priest shook his head a little and walked on. He would probably never find out what happened to Sam. He could only hope and pray for the young man's soul.
He flicked the lights of and turned to the altar, making the sign of the cross with his eyes on the floor.
The church door slammed hard behind him. The priests turned around, his hart skipping a beat. A familiar shadow came running into the church, his eyes shining with panic.
"Jake! What's wrong? Why…."
"Something's after me! Father, you have to help me." Jake anxiously looked over his shoulder. "I don't know what it is, it was… it came…"
The priest raised his hands. "Calm down, Jake. "
Jake grabbed him by the shoulders. "No! We have to lock the doors! It's coming for me."
"What do you mean, something? Is it an animal?"
"I don't know! But it's coming fast. Where are your keys? We have to lock the doors now!"
The priest turned around towards his office and froze in his tracks. The painting was barely visible in the dark, but he could clearly see shadows moving across the surface. The monstrous archangel slowly raised his head and stared at the priest with blazing eyes. An icy chill swept through the small church. Dark smoke curled around the frame of the painting.
With a bang, de church doors flew open. Jake screamed in terror, but the priest could only stare at the gruesome sight before him. Then, the archangels' eyes flashed white and the priest knew no more.