Abaddon

Life was far from normal for 22 year old Frankie. He couldn't attend the university he wanted to, follow through on his dreams of being a professional lacrosse player or even keep his lunch down most days. Frankie was sick, really sick and the past year had been a constant battle for survival against an all to well known opponent, "Cancer".

On February 2'nd 2017 at exactly 2 pm he was assisted on his wheelchair down the hospital hallway by nurse Caroline, his pillar and strength at Saint Clairs Hospital, Washington DC. It was time for his scheduled Chemotherapy. Yes the dreaded "C" was fought day after day with tours to the radiation lab, his body the soldier, his mind the worried family back home, hoping for their loved one to return safely from war. The Chemo kicked in and Frankie dozed off into a peaceful slumber as the drugs and pain had become somewhat of a routine sensation. 

Now in deep sleep he starts to dream, as the hospital hallways don't exist anymore and he is surrounded by white walls in a square room. The walls are white as snow and soft as his inner palm which he gently glides against them. They say in dreams you sometimes can feel and sense things, like smells and taste, well he could definitely feel his surroundings. He sprinted through the room and reached a door, despite his exertion, he didn't quite feel so tired like he did in reality and he noticed this and it made him a tad bit happy. 

Through the door into the next room he went and as soon as his eyes took a glimpse of the room he came to a crushing halt, he didn't move an inch he didn't speak a word, he just looked in suspense. Figures stood across the oval room, their skin red and some white. They didn't acknowledge his presence as yet, they just stayed in a comatose state.. Frankie then heard the sound of a wave of moving water from the previous room and he started to think on his feet and sprint towards the other exit of the oval room passed all the figures, not knowing who they were or how they'd react to him being there. The wave then showed itself to be a river of blood flowing through the room giving life to these figures, causing them to interact with each other and there was some sort of communication but it wasn't verbal. He couldn't really grasp what was happening, all Frankie knew was the situation he was in was spooking him out. The oval room then started expanding and contracting as if the walls had life and the figures started working on the walls like they were construction workers. 

Then the white figures noticed Frankie emerge from the river of steady flowing blood. He was covered in a black like oil paint texture. They started to surround him, one by one they tried to seize him, but every time they touched him they turned black as well. Corrupt was his touch they started to breakdown and decompose. This frightens him even further as he sprints away, a good heart he didn't want to harm anyone and the blackness seemed to be killing them or driving them crazy as they started breaking down the white walls they worked so hard to construct. Frankie ran from room to room avoiding every red and white figure he saw, as the white figures chased him deeper and deeper into the narrow hallways until he finally reached a large room with no light. 

All he could see in this dark room were his white eyes, there was no reflection though, he could see himself looking at himself within his own dream. Now he started to process how freaky things have gotten and how his mind is playing psychological tricks on him. Then he felt the ground tremor underneath him as the darkness in the room spread out through the doors, into the next room where the river of blood slowly became tainted. The darkness continued to spew and creep over all things existing in the rooms closest to it. Decomposing, deconstructing, slowly breaking down and killing the so called life that existed in these rooms. Stuck in this nocturne of a nightmare he cries for help to the red n white figures as they come to his aid but many a hero are consumed in the black plague as their bodies float in the river of black sludge.

The sight of a horde of beings he didn't understand now dead in a river of unknown black matter scared Frankie awake. Caroline holds his palm comfortingly as the doctor comes in and tells young Frankie news no patient battling cancer wants to hear. "It's spreading and rapidly at that" Frankie already traumatized by his nightmare breaks down in tears as the doctor continues to say "We must opt for surgery to remove as much of the tumor as possible" All that's playing in this young adults mind right now is the dark dark dream he had and how he must fall asleep again to stop the river from consuming everything inside, if he couldn't save himself maybe he could save these figures that seemed so helpless to the dark torrent. Now in his terminal stages of the disease, Frankie's body is at utmost unease, he cannot eat, too weak to speak, all that's left to do is sleep. A cancer patient finds a friend in something that helps them get through dying with comfort, so he found a friend in morphine. 

With the drugs kicking in as his mind finds some sort of solace his eyes shut. He never wakes up again, Frankie dies 6 hours prior to his surgery. He somehow doesn't float off to some happy ever after place in the big blue sky he's back in the dark room, this time trapped as his hands are connected to the room as the darkness expands from his core.The previously red and white figures now all black visit him, a legion they occupy every room in this now dark hell. Outside in the real world his family and friends have now gathered to the ER to bid they goodbyes and see their beloved young Frankie for the last time before the funeral. His mother weeps as she lays his head on her lap and brushes his hair and begs him to wake up. His father consumed by grief runs towards the hospital oratory to pray and plead, even fight with God to give him his only son back.  As his prayers and requests get louder with tears flowing down his cheeks, he hears a guttural voice towards the back benches of the chapel. In the shadows he thinks he see's what is a black figure but on further inspection he notices it's nothing. To consumed by grief and loss he believes he might have hallucinated the image and turns his face to God's alter once more to plead for his sons to come back to them. Walking from the alter he see's the same black figure, dripping from it some kind of dark tar with eyes as black as striking as coal embers. As it gets closer the figure starts to resemble Frankie, the shape, the voice, the walk. 

"Who are you?" the father questioned. "Father, do you wish to keep me in your memory?"

The figure takes a few more steps towards him and speaks again, "accept me into your life, share in my body, drink my blood" Bursting into tears the father hugs onto the figure and says, "My son". The alter falls as the chapel gets ransacked by an unnatural wind. Then the father drops to the floor, the the figures feet and starts convulsing. Alarmed by the noise, the hospital staff rush in and find Frankie's father on the floor. "Mrs Belfast your husband has suffered a sudden stroke, further test, which include a CT Scan and an Angiogram reveal a tumor in the temporal lobe of the brain." the doctor conveys with his fingers twitching in his pockets as a sign of nervousness even through years of experience, for this family has been through so much already and now this. 

The wife now in shambles is escorted back to the waiting room by her mother. Frankie's uncle takes over with the help of concerned relatives and friends. The surgery scheduled for his son was now being administered to the father. The anesthesia kicks in as Mr Belfast falls into a deep sleep and is transported to a similar dream with white walls and of figures red and white. But unlike the previous dream a voice beckons Mr Belfast, a voice in dire need of help keeps calling out his name. He runs through the passage way not even completely taking in the figures that surround the various rooms he crosses. Walking through a system of doorways, he's in a maze that resembles the nervous system of the brain. He finally makes it to the source of the distress calls, a dark passage way leads into an even darker room.

A sinister voice greets him, "Welcome to the epicenter, the tumor, the beginning of the end" 

"FRANKIE!" he yells out to his son, as he sees him laying captive and held down by black palms coming out of the surface of dark sludge. The insidious figure begins to torture his son, as a bridge of locusts make for a pathway for the father to come closer. The hands from the surface begin clawing into the boy, puncturing his abdomen and pulling on his skin and hair. Frankie screams with anguish "Dad save me, please!" as the demonic figure that harbors over the boy mocks his tone, "Dad save me, please, hahahaha. No one can save you, not even 'he'." The room the starts raining with red and white figures falling from the ceiling into the black bottomless sludge. Running across the swarm of locusts the father commands the demon to release his son. 

"Command me, hahahahahahhahaha. You see I am the keeper of the abyss, for I shall be the one to destroy all that 'he' created." the demon mocks the futile request, no command that the father stated. Being a pastor by profession and a devout believer by faith the Mr Belfast recognizes the demon from the scriptures as the one they know as Abaddon (to destroy..) "I speak your true name vile beast, you shall not harm, you shall release those loyal to God from your vile clutch and return to hell from which you exist" the demon's ego impressed as he takes pride in the pastor knowing his name "Oh so you fragile mortal folk know of my name, I embrace the fact that I exist for you servants of "he" even if it was just in your nightmares till now."  "Worship me fool and I shall give your son comfort from the life of torment he has lived and the eternity of torture he is yet to endure" as the bridge of locusts levitate Mr Belfast over the sludge he kneels to the demonic figure. "Give my son life again and take me in his sted". 

Glorifying in his victory over a servant of God the demon says, "Very well your child shall gasp the air of reality once more." The father kisses his son and tells him it's all going to be okay now. Kneeling before the dark entity the fathers bone start shattering as his body starts contorting and he is pulled  by the black hands deep into the eternal bed of black sludge. Frankie awakes, taking in his first renewed breath of air, only it's cold and he's naked and surrounding by steel walls this time. "HELP ME, MOM, DAD, SOMEBODY, ANYBODY" his cries for help unanswered as he freezes and eventually succumbs to suffocation in the claustrophobic freezer in the morgue. 

The lights of the hospital flicker off and on as the generators kick in, Mr Belfast passes away on the operating table. Another devastating loss to a family that doesn't know why it is afflicted so. Doctors notice the cancer spread from the tumor all over Mr Belfast's body rapidly, too quickly within a period of 24 hours in fact that it is cause for alarm. They call for the CDC ( Center of Disease Control and Prevention ) to step in. Men with bio-hazard suits come in and escort Mr Belfast's body to a quarantined facility in order to prevent any spread of disease or unknown pathogens from the patient to the populous. Various experts in the field of cancer research and scientists from all over the country come to examine and study the body. At 4 am Mr Belfast opens his eyes and sits up even though his body is sliced open for research purposes. He starts to mumble the words, "Science, occult, occult, science" then he looks at the first response team in bio hazard suits and punctures a hole through the suit. As soon as they come in contact with him the black mass from his body spreads into them and infects them. 

Weeks later a little girl from Ireland of the age of 9 or so paints a vision she saw in a dream, that of a man with a long black shadow walking the streets with locusts following him. She titled it "Abaddon walks the realm of the living"  Then it begins, as nightmare manifests into reality, locusts consume every corner of the globe spreading cancer cells that affect the entire population. In the turmoil and chaos a pile of decomposing bodies forms a stairway to a throne in the front of the white house where you see Abaddon take seat on, smiling as as locusts block out the sky and the screams of humanity suffering in pain, anguish and despair fill the air. 

Author's Note

Note, this isn't proof read as yet. Just testing the plot so far, please tell me if it appeals or makes any sort of sense to you. Still working on the plot and many different ideas and twists this is just the basic structure which i think might need a complete rework
oratory = chapel
CDC ( Center of Disease Control and Prevention )