The Awakening

It stopped breathing. Joseph wearaly gazed upon his hands, appalled by the blood smothered on his fingertips. The innocent animal lay dead at his feet. He began to weep. Quickly he wiped away his tears, and speedily began to bury the dead animal, as he had done with the many others that he had so horridly killed.

Beautiful and delicate flowers surrounded him. Upon finding this place full of flowers, set on top of a perfectly sloped hill, he decided it would be where he would bury the ones he had unmercifully murdered. The flowers, he thought, might give the animals some respect, some peace. He didn’t want to kill them. Every outburst of sudden violence and bloodthirst, was not of his own choice.

Mostly, he had killed other small animals such as rodents and other chickens. Luckily, in past surges, he hadn’t been near other townsfolk, therefore none of their blood was stained on his hands, at least, not yet.

Joseph, who was only ten years of age, prayerfully kneeled at the spot where he had buried the chicken, and attempted to wipe some of the blood on the earth below him.

“Oh God. Forgive me for that which I have done. I didn’t mean to kill the poor creature, God, you know, you understand the very intent of my soul. Oh Lord, please forgive me. Please, cast away this evil that dwells inside of me. Amen.”

Gazing upon the beautiful flowers once more, he began to head back to the village. The sun peacefully sat on the horizon, as a cool air settled in the small town. Stumbling down the hill, Joseph rushed back to his small cottage, where he would quickly and quietly cleanse his hands of the remaining blood.

When he arrived at his home, he found his mother dwelling on the porch, resting on the rocking chair his father had built for her. Hastily he hid his hands behind his back, fearing that if she discovered all the animals he had killed, that she would cease to love him. Her eyes found his, a slight frown crossed her face.

“Joseph, where have you been?”

“Oh, mother, I was just at the school playing.”

“Have you now? Because your teacher explained to me you have not been attending school for quite some time.”

“I’m sorry mother, but I don’t like it there. I enjoy to be alone.” This was a lie. He deeply longed to be with the other boys, to make wonderful friends. But, he feared of having one of his outbursts, and harming, or even killing one of them. He feared that one day, a human may be added to the hill white the white flowers.

“Joseph, my dear boy, I understand. However these things that I ask you to do, are for your good, and while it may seem boresome now, it will greatly benefit you in the future.”

“But, is there any way that you or father could teach me these things?”

“Me and your father can do many things, but we do not know all. Your teacher can show you wonderous things which neither I, nor your father could teach you.”

“I understand.”

Smiling, his mother rose out of her chair and tightly embraced him.

“I love you.”

Quickly, Joseph slid his hands in his pockets. His mother kissed him on the cheek, “Now, go get ready for supper, father is on his way.”

Joseph nodded. Rushing to the sink inside the home, Joseph proceeded to cleanse his hands of the chicken's now dry blood.

When night fell upon the town, and the stars coated the sky like a warm blanket spread across a field, Joseph, along with the many other children in the village, was sent to bed, to rest for an early morning of church the next day. Laying in his bed, Joseph tightly gripped the smooth, wooden bull his father had carved for him. A bull was said to be Joseph’s spirit animal, so his father immediately carved one out of some pretty, rich oak wood, and gifted it to Joseph at his birth, his very first present.

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As the sun rose, so did the many families scattered across the small down. Church was early, meaning only a sliver of the sun was over the horizon when it started. The grass was cool, and the air fresh. The town's preacher thought it was the best time to worship God, and it did indeed add more to their Sunday session. Joseph didn’t mind being up early, it wasn’t something he loved to do, but neither was it something he was against. Since the grass was refreshing against his feet, he loved walking barefoot to the church, as did his mother and father.

It added a sense of life and joy, as well as distracted him from the terror of having an outburst that was usually dwelling on his poor, innocent mind. The sun's rays spread across the village, cleansing it of the darkness that had dwelt there the night before. The sky up above began to brighten, shifting from a dark blue, to a lighter, prettier color. The church bell rang, signaling their session would begin soon.

When Joseph and his family arrived at the church, they slipped on their shoes and headed inside. The floor was made of beautiful hand carved oak wood. Joseph’s father had helped construct the lovely church when he was nineteen years of age. As he was chopping down some of the trees to be used to construct the church, he laid eyes upon Joseph’s mother, saying, “From the moment I laid eyes on her soft face, and her sparkling blue eyes, I knew that I was, and would forever be, in love with her.”

Walking down the aisle, Joseph found his family's row. Tightly gripping his bible, their preacher walked up the steps to the podium. He gazed upon the crowd, who were eager for the message he had prepared for them.

“My dear brothers, my dear sisters, my dear elders, and, my dear children, it truly is a beautiful morning this day. Let us begin with a word of prayer to start this wonderful session.”

The preacher bowed his head, as did all the others in the church, and began to offer up a prayer to their God. Once he finished, he lifted up his head, with a warm, pleasant smile stretched across his face. Opening his bible, he began to recite lovely, poetic verses from it. A warm presence filled Joseph’s heart and soul, comforting him, and blessing him with peace as the preacher read.

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When the session ended, the crowd rose from their seats and began to head back to their homes. As Joseph and his parents peacefully walked home, the most awful, horrific event happened. The demon that seemed to plagiarize Joseph’s soul, struck again, and he was hit with a sudden surge of fear and dread, followed by a powerful feeling of violence and anger.

Joseph was halfway home when it happened. His mother was beside him, his father a few ways ahead. Joseph attempted to escape into the woods, but the surge was too quick, and he was quickly overcome. He gazed upon his mother, seeing a glowing yellow symbol encircling her, of which only he could see.

Joseph’s eyes glowed yellow. With unearthly power and strength he lunged towards her. Slashing her face with his nails, he immediately drew blood. Crying for help, she attempted to pry him off, however, it was in vain. No matter how many times she screamed his name, her words could not reach him. He would not stop, until the life had drained from her soul.

Horrified, Joseph’s father rushed to help, awestruck by the events that were unfolding before him. Grabbing his demonic child, he attempted to rip Joseph off from his mother, who had fallen to the ground. However, once his hands wrapped around the boy's waist, he was filled with a severe shock that sended him flying back and crashing onto the ground.

The rest of the town watched in horror, as Joseph snapped his mothers neck.

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Joseph laid in his bed. His pillow was wet with tears. His wrists cold from the chains. His heart was heavy and wracked with pain and guilt. He had not ceased crying from the moment he realized he had killed his mother.

Each tear that fell from his eye, was another fleeting memory of his mother, whom he would never lay eyes upon ever again. Her once gorgeous face was now ireconizable, covered with slashes and claw marks. Joseph’s nails where thicky coated with blood, continuing to torture his distraught mind. Neither he, nor anyone could ever forgive him for what he did.

Joseph feared what they would do with him.

Would they kill him, burn him at the stake?

The door to the room opened. Gripping a holy book and cross, the preacher fearfully walked it.

“Who am I speaking to, the demon, or the young boy I know to be Joseph Partridge?”

After seeing Joseph’s wet face and swollen eyes, the preacher's face softened.

“My dear Joseph. Under the name and power of God, I will sanctify your body, and cleanse you from this demon, forever.”

Suddenly, Joseph felt a surge of power, and then anger. He began to shake, and his eyes once more became a glowing yellow. He began to shout at the preacher and suddenly broke the chains through which he was bound. In response The preacher ripped open his book and held his cross up high towards the heavens.

“Revertere ad somnum! Revertere ad somnum! Et auferam ius tuum et conscious! Revertere ad somnum!”

The preacher's words were filled with power and strength, however, they seemed to have no effect on Joseph. Joseph charged forwards, wrapping his finger around the preacher's throat, cutting off the air flow to his lungs.

“You have no power over me, child of Morpheus!”

The life quickly began to drain from the preacher’s face.

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Joseph’s eyes flashed open. He shot up, sweat dripping down his forehead. Smoke filled the dark room, candles and symbols were carved into the wall. In the room was a circle of various people, some of which Joseph saw in the village, however, he did not see his mother. Shaking uncontrollably, with blood dripping from his nose, was the preacher, lying in the center of the circle. Slowly Joseph rose to his feet, unable to comprehend what was happening, he was only a child.

Terrified, he looked around the room and spotted his father, who was wearing different clothes then he had been when Joseph last saw him. He rushed up to him and tried to shake him awake, crying his name while tears fell down his cheek. His father would not wake. Suddenly, he heard the preacher moan. He had stopped shaking, and seemed to be waking up.

Joseph darted out of the room, and into an odd hallway, filled with doors along with numbers stuck to them. Walking to the end of the hallway, he gazed across the new place he was in. It was unlike anything he had ever seen before. A city. He gripped his head, more tears falling from his cheek. Suddenly Joseph heard a bone rattling voice from behind him. He spun around to face the preacher, whose eyes no longer brought warmth and comfort, but fear and dread, only a few feet away from him. Blood dripped down his lip and onto the floor, dark circles under his eyes.

“Joseph,” his voice was menacing and evil, “Let’s go back home.”

Suddenly he grabbed Joseph and pinned him to the floor. A terrible shock surged through Joseph’s body as his eyes became heavy, and his mind foggy.

“It’s ok Joseph, it’s ok,” the preacher whispered into Joseph’s ear, “It’s just time to go back to sleep.”