Archive for July 13, 2017

Imperfections of Sleep (Part 6 of 6)

Posted in Occult Detectives, Writing in Theory & Practice with tags , , , , , , on July 13, 2017 by Occult Detective

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Imperfections of Sleep
Part 6 of 6

Special Agent Michelle Hawkes followed the occult detective over the ravine and gazed once more at the majesty of Rosslyn Chapel. They had been here three days, anticipating the battle that made this sacred place run red with blood.

She had wanted to take part, as had her friend and colleague, but they were not meant to be here, at least, so the mysterious dimensional traveler had said.

The confrontation had been monstrous in scope and beyond horrific, but in the end, good won out, but at a terrible price.

“So I’m to believe that Michael Somers saved the world and is now somewhere out there looking to end it?” Hawkes said. She was new to the Bureau, an Agent in the newly formed Paranormal Operations Division of the FBI, but she’s known Landon Connors for more than a while.

She thought back to the night they’d first met. She was a captive, held in the belly of a charnel house, food for some infernal thing. It was Connors and others known as Outriders who had saved her, brought her back into the light.

Eventually she joined their ranks, trained with Connors, for a short time they’d become lovers, but now…

They had parted ways badly. Landon, for all his brilliance and charm, was a lost soul. He was in such a dark place, and spent so much time hiding from the pain in his soul that she just couldn’t bear it.

She thought she could walk away from the life, but once you looked beyond the veil, there was no way to unsee those hidden forces all around us.

“It’s hard to imagine what’s going through his mind. He lost so much.” Connors paused, staring at the wondrous chapel. The stain on this place would remain for centuries, if not for Somers’ intervention. He wondered, could a mark such as this carry over into a timeline reborn?

“And we’re just letting him do this, letting him travel back in time to end this reality as we know it?”

“Yes,” Connors replied. “I guess we are.”

“It’s all like a bad dream.” She knelt and plucked a blade of dry grass from the earth, twirling it in her fingers. Was it a mistake accepting Connors’ invitation to come to Scotland, to watch the end? Was it wrong to find herself back in his arms, falling for him all over again?

“What was it Crowley said, — Dreams are imperfections of sleep; even so is consciousness the imperfection of waking. Dreams are impurities in the circulation of the blood; even so it’s consciousness a disorder of life.

“Always the romantic,” Hawkes said, turning away from the young detective.

He reached for her, taking her hand and pulling her back.

“Hey,” Connors said with a wink, “I try.” He drew her even closer and kissed her softly. “Michelle, I don’t know how long we have, or even if what Cassidy Martin said was true, but just in case, I need to tell you something.”

“What?”

“Since the first time we met, I knew that —” Connors paused, mid-sentence, looking passed the young woman before him, staring long into the black of night overhead.

“Landon?” Hawkes said, turning to see what had caught his attention. “What the—?”

The black sky was aglow, awash in a sea of swaying, rippling bands of vibrant color that blazed across the curtain of the still and silent night. Starlight grew dim, then were snuffed altogether like a candle blown out by the wind. A strange, almost industrial hum began to resonate and the ground began to quiver.

“This is it then?”

They held hands, wondering what to expect, if they would even exist when the celestial clock reset. Connors looked into Michelle Hawkes’ eyes and thought the words he had meant to say, but kept them to himself, hoping against hope that they’d be spoken in another life.

The End

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