Snelling (Black Fibers Chapter 1)

This is a tale of dispare. A saddened priest alone in his Baptist church on a windy night. Out side something preys on Pastor Larry Gates. The first chapter in a series of connected short stories.

Snelling

"Thank you Father, for helping me through the day. I praise you, oh Lord in all that I do..." These were the words spoken by Pastor Larry Gates in his country-boy voice, before he was abruptly disrupted by shaking at the front doors of the old, dark church. The white-haired, chubby, caucasian man was the minister at The First Baptist Church of Snelling, California.

Pastor Larry Gates was there in the church alone with nothing but the crucifix, his guilty conscience, and the good old holy spirit as his company. The shaking was nothing more than a slight rattle from the wind on the old wooden doors. Pastor Larry Gates, or Pastor Larry to some and just Larry to others, smiled at the tiny spook he received from the interruption and went on to finish his prayer. "Thank you Father, for helping me through the day. I praise you, oh Lord, in all that I do. Lord please help me on the path to righteousness so that I may join you in heaven one day."

The wind howled outside as Pastor Larry took to his thoughts. "Lord I have sinned greatly. I drove up to Sonora this last Tuesday so I could pick up some venison and lumber but I left later then I planned and it was dark before I knew it. I never touch my flask while I'm driving, my Lord, but I was so stressed. My wife is very careless with our finances and she was continuously bickering with me. I just couldn't take it anymore, so I drank." He pulled his flask from his jacket pocket and stared at it.

The doors at the front shook like something pushed at them. The wind again, Larry went on. "I got so tired, oh great Father, and the whisky turned my mind towards sinful things. I saw a place on the side of the road that looked like a hotel with red lights and I went in. I was so tired Lord, it’s no excuse but please forgi..." A slight pound and a couple long scratches on the door got Pastor Gates’ attention. Damn dogs, he thought as he turned back to face the crucifix. Pastor Larry continued on, ignoring the scratching from the cold dog, and continued his confession.

"I walked into the red light lit hotel and was greeted by an older women. I asked about a room, she set me up with one then directed me to an area with a bar and music. I didn't think much of it Lord. I just figured since I'll be falling asleep soon I could grab a couple of drinks. When I walked passed the red curtain I saw where I was. I had entered a house of harlots my Lord, and upon drinking my couple of drinks, I was overwhelmed by strenuous thoughts of temptation, and not soon after I was consumed by it."

Pastor Larry Gates looked down from the crucifix, he reached back into his coat and produced the flask. He started to cry. The pastor's cries were full of sorrow, and he began to unlatch the lid of the flask. The door heaved as if something pushed up against it, then the slow scratching began again. Larry became infuriated by this and he quickly turned from facing the crucifix to facing the door throwing the flask in the process. The Pastor was yelling as he did this but it didn't seem to be the dog he was yelling at, "DAMN YOU! Damn you for all you've put me threw! Damn you for all the lost nights and sickened mornings! Damn you for clouding my mind along with my judgement. Damn you.You will no longer have a hold on me!"

The flask flew threw the air fast and hard, like the pitches he threw so many years previous. It curved before it got to the door and hit a medium sized porcelain statue of Jesus on the cross. The colourful statue one of his congregants had given him a year ago wobbled in place, fell, and shattered . The whiskey that filled the flask was now running over the broken shards of the messiahs face.

The heaving and scratching at the door went away and Pastor Larry fell to his knees crying into his hands. There was two heavy knocks at the door (THONK, THONK!) the door shook a little at the heavy thudding. Larry looked up from his palms and looked at the door questionably.Thonk, Thonk! The knocking commenced. Pastor Larry stood up now and stared at the doors in a sort of shock as the knocks turned into pounding. Pounding, and pounding, Larry's mind raced to put together what it might be, hoping it was something logical and easy to deal with. "The doors of this sanctuary can not be open to you." The words slipped from his mouth with out no thought at all.

The banging stopped. The wood lightly squeaked like pressure was being lifted from it and Larry reached in the pocket were his flask was. The flask was gone and his sorrows returned. Larry folds his hands and prayed, it must of been a drunk, or one of these crystal meth users he thought to himself. "Poor, poor person, he should come to mass this sunday." he said to himself.

Pastor Larry Gates walked over to the broken statue. When he got to the shattered remains of the porcelain figure he looked down at it, but the first thing he saw wasn't the broken face of Jesus it was the flask, open and leaking.

Pastor Larry picks up the flask and looks at it, the wet stainless steel cold in his hands. He looks inside to see if there is any more whisky, and there was. Not even a half a shot, but still a sipp Larry thought feeling sorrowful once more since he realized what he's done. The Pastor raised the flask to his lips then by surprise the double door shook hard and splinted as if someone threw themselves hard against the doors. They shook madly as someone tried to force their way in by means of slamming up against the two latched doors. Larry dropped the flask and fell back landing on the shattered pieces of the holy statue, cutting his left hand on the broken wrist of Jesus Christ.

The horrid banging seist, Pastor Larry sat up and rubbed the back of his head. When he looked at his hand for a moment he thought his head was bleeding, until he realized it was just the gash in his palm. He scurried quick to the flask throwing shattered porcelain to the sides, when he looked into his flask again, he noticed all the whiskey was now gone. "F**K YOU! You piece of s**t druggie! There is nothing here for low lifes like you, scum of the earth you all should be put into one area and BOMBED!" Larry screamed this out of anger, because he blamed the man who is on drugs out front savagely banging on the doors for the loss of his whiskey. Sorrow once again engulfed him and he cried into his good palm, in his mind he is begging that God had him leave an extra bottle of wine in his office. God didn't leave Larry any wine thoe, some people may say God wasnt there for him, believers would say God is everywhere, but really it doesn't matter if God was there or not because no man, or divine being came to aid Pastor Larry Gates.

The pastor walked quickly to his office, blood dripping from his hand, fury in his eyes. Just as he was passing the last window in the church an object flew threw the window and smacked Larry on the right side of his face hard. Pastor larry fell toward the pews and instead of falling in the row he landed on his ribs, on the side of the wooden pew. The pain he felt from smashing his ribs on the pew was far worse than the one he felt from the object hitting him in the head, matter a fact it felt sort of leathery and wet. He looked down to see the object that hit him, he was horrified. it was the severed head of a pig liquid still oozing from the pieces of muscle and veins that protruded from where the neck was once connected.

Pastor Larry got to his feet and got ahold of himself quickly, the head of the swine bleeding out on the church's silk oak floors. His face was covered in blood, not his own but the pigs, he wipes away the wetness from his eyes and peers out the window, only briefly. But if Pastor Larry Gates every got a chance to talk to the police, he would of told them in that brief moment he saw the outline of a man outside in the windy, foggy darkness. He would of said that the man in the darkness was far off in the field but you could still see he was possibly 6 in a half feet tall, and broadly built. He also would have said he looked away towards the doors for only a millisecond then when looking back, the huge person that was there off in the distance was gone.

Pastor Larry ran to the front doors reaching into his pocket for his keys while doing so. He got to the doors and right before he could put his hand on the main door knob to open it, it shook rapidly. The huge man was back and was more forceful this time around, the wood splintering each slam against it.

There came a loud roaring scream from Larrys attacker, it sounded like it came from the stomach and throat almost like a animal roaring or howling, but still human sounding at the same time. The door let off a loud snap, and the slamming stopped. Larry wasn't always the smartest man some of the choices he made were not good or smart but as soon as he heard that door snap he turned and ran towards the office in the back hoping it would buy him some time. He reached the office no more thoughts of that wine bottle just thoughts of surviving this attack from this maniac. As soon as he closed the door, the front doors burst open.

Pastor Larry Gates had no window in his office just a desk with small statues of Angels, two pictures of Jesus (one of him praying looking to the sky and a divine light shines upon his face, and the other of him being crucified.) There was a picture of a group of people and Pastor Larry standing in the yard of the church, and a picture of a beautiful blond haired green eyed girl in a red graduation gown and cap holding a diploma, along with an Apple laptop flipped up but turned off. Larry frantically looked for a weapon but there was none to be found. The Long scratches went down the door of Larry's office. Larry turned pale white with fear and tears rapidly ran down his cheek. Pastor Larry looked over and grabbed the letter open off his desk at the last moment, then the door flung open.

What stood in the doorway of Pastor Larry's office absolutely scared the piss out of him, literally. A warm stream of urine ran down Larry's right leg and trickled off onto the floor out the bottom of his pants. He stumbled back and gasped at the horrid identity of his attacker, no more rational thoughts of what is to be true or false, in less than ten minutes the things that go bump in the night have become reality to Pastor Larry Gates. His eyes widened and he began to say, "Its Beelzebub, Jesus Christ please have mer..." Pastor Larry's bottom jaw is grabbed at this moment, then milla seconds later torn from his face, a loud crack and rip is heard by Larry as the bone snaps and the skin rips. Blood oozes from his jaw, his tongue, which now seemed to have gained length dangles were his lower jaw once was. Pastor Larry never believed in aliens, or monsters, he believed in God and the Devil. That night the last thing Larry saw to him, it was the Devil himself. The murderous assailant ripped the rest of Larry's head from his shoulders but he did not get the chance to truly feel the life drain from the Pastor. The pleasure was the heart attack's witch got Larry as soon as his bottom jaw was detached.

"Truck four calling in boss truck four"

"How has the ride been comin Truck four this is home base line one what can I do for you?"

"I been on a 30 hour ride and i'm drowsy boss, pulling over on this upcoming town to take a breather."

"Where will you be layin down truck 4?"

"Snelling, California boss."

"We got it, see you in the morning, home base out."

Todd Malkin was a truck driver for Loaded Trucking Co. out of Greeley Colorado and he had been driving for about 28 hours and a half, he drove to Monterey California for a pick up, exotic rugs was the cargo. Todd was about 45 he was of caucasian and hispanic descent but he thought of his "white side" very highly. He was one a those men that were blessed to not be balding or thinning yet, he was also a recovering drug addict and this was the first drive he wasn't on meth. So even though he was tired and probably having wants for the drug at the moment, that did not impair him he knew what he saw. Right as he was coming up to the sign that said Snelling city limits something huge ran in front of Todds big rig, the huge disturbance went right Todd went left then right again. Todd put the breaks on the truck and skid to a stop.

"What the F**k was that?" Todd asked himself, in shock over what happened. He took his Oakland A's hat off and ran his hands threw his short cut hair then wiped the sweat from his brow. He opened the door to his cab and jumped out of his huge truck to investigate real quick. He felt like he landed on something when he jumped out of the truck, he lifted up his foot and was confused. Not quite sure of what he was looking at he grabbed his heavy black flashlight and turned it on. It was a finger with a ring in it that had an eagle's head. Todd's eyes widened, but he still went on to shine his light and saw shredded pieces of a man all over the street he walked to the back of the trailer, passing unrecognizable pieces of flesh, blood, another finger, and a few teeth. Behind the trailer he could recognize more of the body, he saw a torso missing its left arm and right hand, the belly looked like it burst open the innards of the man were spread out down the street. He saw the legs both mangled one footless. Todd Malkin turned around to go to his truck cab so he could get on his radio and contact the police. Before he was but three steps from where he turned himself around at he heard a Whoosh sound thru the air and then a squishy flump right behind him, like someone threw a big water balloon threw the air and it landed without popping. Todd had a cold sweat run down his face from his head, this little voice in his mind told him 'don't turn around, keep going and leave.' but that damn human curiosity turned him back around. It was a head, covered in blood with the bottom jaw gone. Todd began to tremble in fear, he would tell his son later on he had never felt any greater fear than he did that night on the outskirts of a town called Snelling, in California. For reasons only he would know, Todd Malkin stepped towards, knelt down and observed the head for only a second. The eyes were off in their own worlds the left was staring down wards the blood vessels were glowing a light red, and the right eyes blood vessels all exploded and made the whole thing look like a dark purple ball in a drooping socket. The lips of the upper lip (the only lip left on the head) was moist with blood but cracked looking, with his odd observation he seen that the head had been rolling in grass and dirt. His mild investigation of the halved head came to an end when he heard a low grunt from down the road, he shined his light but saw nothing. He put his light down but didn't take his eyes off from where the grunt arose. Then a big dark figure arose from the bush and stood staring at Todd.

Todd Malkins was frozen with fear he wanted to run for the cab and go, why not the trucks running and I'm pretty damn good with them sticks ill be gone in no time, he thought to himself but his legs just wouldn't react. The dark figure was huge Todd would say to his son, "The son of a b***h had to be some hobo body builder on pcp how f****n huge the crazy m**********r was." At that moment the "hobo body builder" was slouching his head and rising his shoulders, Todd could hear its deep grunts and hard raspy breathing. It moved and Todd jumped back, somthing then flew threw the air and landed at Todds feet. It was the bottom half of the jaw, at least some of it. Todds fear must of became so great because his adrenaline rose so high Todd was turned around and into his cab in under ten seconds and going in at least five seconds. In his side view mirrors he could see the huge things dark outline sanding where he was, over the head. He could see it's eyes, its terrible golden eyes, the way he would explain the eyes was, "Like Vin Diesels in them Riddick movies, or like a cats or a dogs eyes. Them son of a b*****s eyes was glowing though and i'm sure of it on my daddys grave." Todd hit those gears quick and after seeing that out line and those eyes he didn't look back, or stop in Snelling for a rest. He was wide awake and drove on through the night. When the sun became visible Todd pulled into a rest stop where there was a good amount of other vehicles. Todd parked, took a long drag of a marlboro red, then pulled a pint of gin from one bag and pounded it in one sitting. Hopping it would help him sleep. Todd laid down, closed his eyes and fell to a deep sleep to awaken, screaming." Those body parts scattered like that and, Those eyes."

Author's Note

This story was edited by my friend, Dakota Michelle. I'd like all your opinions they are all welcome, but the main things I want touched on is the story itself and my dialogue. This is story is this first chapter in my "ebook" of connected short stories entitled 'Black Fibers.' Every tale has something that connects it to a bigger story. I hope you enjoy it.
-C.A Christensen

Reviews

[L.P. Perez]

I would like to say good job. This is one of the better short stories I have read in a while and I think that it flows quite nicely. The progression is well, it isn't to fast or to slow and I really like that. Most short stories seem to skip parts or the concept just rushed but your story has a nice consistent feel to it. There are places however where I think that the imagery should be worked upon, as to make your reader feel more drawn into the story. It may be just me but I felt a little disconnected from the Pastor when the attacker broke through the doors, I feel as if there needs to be more emotion. The dialogue was actually quite well and I didn't see many anything horrid with it. I guess all I have left to say is try, try and try again.
Good Luck and Continue writing.

[CAChristensen]

Thank you VERY VERY much for your review, it was very helpful and I'm glad you enjoyed the story too I hope u check back soon and read the second story in my series of connected stories. Thank you again!