A Parchment Plea

Father Gabriel Hawthorne, a renowned-respected priest of forty years. Responded to a faded parchment of plea from far beyond the pristine walls of the church. A sophisticated architecture of sandstone, steeples and spires that reached towards the heavens. His journey will take him to a detached farm shrouded in shadows and mystery.

Upon arrival, Father Gabriel travels an isolated ominous dirt road elongating with every turn. A corridor lengthening, dragging his destination in some inescapable nightmare. Dirt clouds plume behind him, churning and conjuring with tail-light hue. Like nebulas caught in an eternal choreograph, intertwining within our endless void. Gnarled branches reached down from their canopy-grave, clawing and grasping desperately towards Father Gabriel warning of the darkness that lies ahead.

Farmhouse, now in sight, its fields once vibrant and full of life. Now lay drained wilting and consumed by unyielding blight. The building itself at one time a stoic sentinel architecture, its weathered walls and crumbling structure bears witness to a forgotten past.

Father Gabriel, senses an unfamiliar dread never felt before. Leered by an atrocious force from wilting grounds he walks on. His years from experiencing demonic possessions, casting devils from our world’s innocence. Seemed mere child’s play, as he steps up the creaking porch. Decaying pillars wobble uncertainty, struggling to uphold a plunging gable above.

Before gesturing a knock on the door, hinges cry with a drubbing swing against floorboards welcoming his presence. Stale fetor of loss and decay wafts the priest from inside the farmhouse, a quick burble rushes up his throat. No stranger to un-godly scents, Father Gabriel manages to maintain his composure.

Lurking in this dimly lit farmhouse, the presence of a fragile matriarch elderly woman stood. Eyes hollowed, and lines etched deep into her weathered face that spoke of a life marred by unspeakable secrets. She beckoned Father Gabriel with her dehydrated bony finger, her voice quivering with a mixture of desperation and anticipation.

“Father, you’ve come just in time,” she said, her words barely audible. “The darkness that has consumed us must be banished.”

“I came as quick as I could ma’am,” father squinted, attempting to focus on the matriarch. “And your name Ms.?..”

She did not answer, slowly turning away maintaining hollowed eye contact with Father Gabriel. A subtle wicked smirk nerved as she began to walk. The priest followed her through the dimly lit living room, shadows painting their dance upon peeling walls in candle light tremble. Approaching far end of the hall, an ajar door seeps out an eerily pulsating glow. Sulfur and decay begins to hang thick in the air, weighing heavy on the father’s senses.

Trepidation envelopes Father Gabriel, pushing the door open and coming face to face with a scene that defied comprehension. The room was adorned by grotesque symbols, drawn in blood and bits of flesh etched into the wall. In the center pinned a young man, bound to an altar, his body broken and contorted in agony. It was clear to the priest, the sacrificial ritual had been completed.

“Dear God my son,” Father Gabriel muttered, voice barely escaping his trembling lips.

“What has happened to this poor boy?” Perturbed became the priest. Looking back towards the matriarch, but to his awareness no longer stood behind him. Sickened by the unimaginable scene bestowed upon him. Father Gabriel steps back into the hallway, and raises his stole to mask the stench. His vision whirls, scintillating a blurring sight, as though the priest has been marked by some unseen force.

Cautiously careens into the living room, citing prayer, observing his surroundings. A deafening growl cracks through dismal silence, announcing itself outside the weathered farmhouse. Earth beneath the foundation begins to convulse. Dust cascades from the black mold infested ceiling, old picture frames descended frantically shattering onto the floor.

A door from the hall whence Father Gabriel came, vigorously flung open ripping its frame from both hinges. Grimly-mutated shadow figure stalks out, father struck with doom hastes towards the front door. Malicious laughter brought by the matriarch of the land can be heard outside through the madness that is unfolding. Struggling to open the door, the priest can feel ill intent stomping approaching from behind. The Old door knob slips from his grip, its latch brittle and worn mocks his attempt of escape. Father Gabriel, begins to cite another prayer.

Managing to pry the stubborn door, he makes a run towards his car. Loose floorboard catches a foot of the priest, throwing him past the creaking steps onto unyielding land. Scuffles on his back, mutated shadow figure makes its way through the doorway. Another deafening growl cracks the night sky, pillars of decay finally give their way crumbling under the earth rumbling sound. Gable plunges down crushing the sinister shadow figure below, a vile vocal bellowed from the deceased creature.

Father Gabriel starts the engine, hollowed eye elderly woman with sickle in hand charges from around the corner. Before intentions are fulfilled by the matriarch, pincer of bone penetrates through her chest. Hoisted up into a starless tapestry, she begins to cackle looking dreadfully into the eyes of Father Gabriel as she continues swinging her sickle. Without hesitation, pincers open, ripping the deranged elderly woman in two.

The priest, brimming with unearthly terror, dispatches through the winding corridor of dirt road. Off in the distance, sounds of once a stoic piece of architecture is demolishing. Quaking of blight ridden fields from shattering growls, begins to fade. Father Gabriel, a renowned respected priest of forty years, manages to escape the clutches of an ungodly demise.

Father never pondered back towards this incident nor did he ever spoke of it to his fellow priests. For fear his reputation to the church he loves so dearly, would dissipate and would be looked down upon from such a record. He carries on his devotion to the church, and lives with a never to be told terror.