This section was incredibly hard to write as it is the conclusion to my first novella. It ends slightly abruptly which is where I like it. I have been struggling to write this which is why my posts have been a bit more infrequent of late but hopefully I will get over it soon. The ending is in this post and the beginning is not in this blog. I now have the daunting task of rewriting certain parts and editing the full story. I hope you enjoyed this one and I will continue my other works. I hope to have it ready for publishing by August. The working title right now is “follies in ghost hunting” but I haven’t settled on that yet. So stay tuned and Enjoy.
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I reached to where the gun dropped. My arms were so weak and heavy but somehow I got my hand around the pistol grip. I pulled the gun into both hands. I knew I only had one shot so I had to make sure it counted. I raised my head and extended my arm slowly. I could hear a thud. I assume it was Steve hitting the altar hard. I got the pistol raised off the ground. I could hear a scream of pain as a sound of squishing occurred. I could only assume that was the dagger plunging into Steve’s chest. I pulled my head up enough to see. The dagger was plunged deep into Steve’s chest and blood was starting to flow from the displacement caused by the knife. I can’t shoot the nuns as the bullets pass through without ever touching them. I can’t shoot the shadowy which I could only assume was Nergal. So the only thing left was to shoot the dagger. Maybe the dagger was a link between the physical realm and the spiritual realm. I just needed a clear shot but I couldn’t figure out how. The dagger was almost fully submerged in the body of my closest friend left alive. ‘The hilt,’ I thought. But the nun holding the hilt was in the way. I aimed for the nuns torso. Maybe, just maybe I could get lucky. I would have prayed but I didn’t know to whom I could address the prayer. I suppose in a church I could pray to the Catholic god.
Suddenly I heard a voice from down the flight of stairs. It sounded like words but none that I ever heard before. I heard a word that caused a guttural reaction to the shadowy figure. The word I heard was “Nabu”. What did it mean I wondered. It didn’t matter as my body felt a little stronger. I could see the nuns had cringed the same way as the shadow figure. I aimed for the hilt which was now slightly visible. I squeezed the trigger as the voice continued. I heard the bullet strike the dagger and the dagger shattered into a lot of little tiny pieces. The voice rang out the word of “Nabu” again. A field of light emerged from the stairwell. The light was blindingly bright. And then darkness. My strength had returned to me so I stood up and ran to Steve. I heard a loud cough but a cough filled with fluid. When I arrived at his body I could see the extent of the damage. The hole in his chest was deep and still had a few fragments inside the wound. But the biggest problem was the fact that a piece of the shattered blade had grazed the jugular vein in his neck. Blood was pouring out at an alarming rate.
“Steve!” I cried out, “stay with me you asshole.” I grabbed part of the altar cloth and wadded it up against his neck trying to stop the bleeding.
“Apply…” Steve coughed, “a tourniquet” Steve said. Suddenly the all too familiar sight of him slipping into a blood loss coma.
“No you fucking don’t you bastard. Aurora won’t let me come home with out you!” I yelled. A large tear began to well in each eye. I watched as the only person who knew my story and what I had seen and been through passed away. I was so preoccupied with Steve that I didn’t notice that the shadowy figure was gone and the nuns were unconscious on the ground near the altar. I fell to my knees. The hardest part was knowing that my bullet caused the blade to break. My bullet caused the death of my last battle buddy. The remaining blood from the recent corpse drained to the ground. Damon came over and placed a hand on my shoulder. I could feel his sweaty grip piercing through my sweat soaked shirt. I closed my eyes and felt the hand disappear.
I felt myself rise up out of where I was and quickly drop back. I opened my eyes and saw the sofa of the RV. I looked up and saw cameras and light. I looked to my left and saw the spirit box and the infrared and ultraviolet lights. I stood up slowly as I could feel us moving. “How did you sleep?” a strange voice said.
“ok, I guess. I had the strangest dream. And who are you?” I said trying to move to the passenger seat.
“HEY, not to worry bud. I’m Dave and you are in my traveling ghost hunting band.” Dave announced proudly.
“what do you mean?” I said.
“Your crew of fantastic ghost hunters were the first group to ever see real specters and ghosts. So I picked you up outside of the church and started asking what you remember.” Dave gestured as if he was whispering. “That’s not much by the way.” Dave stopped gesturing. “And every morning we go through this rigmarole.”
“Steve, Pat!” I cried out a bit. I felt a hand on my shoulder.
“Sadly your team didn’t make it. The doctor said that you have a wartime thing called dissociative amnesia. Apparently the trauma in the church was so great that you forget the events and even sometimes who we are. They say it’s a response that is used by the brain to help ease guilt and pain. But your with us now homie.”
“Aurora and the kids?” I asked.
“We get you home every weekend. But you are providing a decent living for them now.” Dave said. “Now, did you remember any other details that you haven’t mentioned before?” Dave asked pulling out a tape recorder.
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