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Rated: 18+ · Fiction · Horror/Scary · #1733271
The Fallen One has appeared on earth, threatning mankinds very existance.
Hopeless
Chapter 1


         On a cold morning, in a park on the outskirts of the city, lead detective Dante Contino was looking upon the gruesome scene of a murder. The detective told himself that it must be the work of one of the cities many crack heads, but he couldn't shake the feeling there was something else to this act of malice. Dante was one of the veteran detectives on the force, one of the best, never letting a crime go unsolved. At the age of forty-five his physical strength was not what it once was, but he made up for it in his wisdom and metal prowess, always focusing on the little stuff that any average detective wouldn't give a second look.
         The corpse was mangled, brutally slain and put on display for everyone to allow the fear too set in. Someone unstable enough to do this to somebody thrived on fear. Infecting you with the disease like emotion, and then he has control over you.          
         “But why, whats the motive? This had thought... this had hatred, shit I have never seen anything like this in the twenty years on the force.” Dante said.
         Dante wasn't the only cop shaken up by the grizzly sight. One officer was hunched over, vomiting the Chinese food he had just eaten not an hour prior. Another stayed in the squad car, keeping his sight any where but the mangled body.
         The corpse was tied upside down, legs bound, and arms out, in the shape of the unholy cross. The eyes where removed and X's where sliced over the empty sockets. His throat slashed, dangling upside down, draining his body of the vital blood needed to sustain life, making a crimson puddle under him.
         The mans wallet was soaking in the pool of blood. Dante pulled out a pair of gloves and started going through it, trying to discover the mans identity.
         “The moneys still in here so obviously money wasn't the motive.”
Pulling out the mans ID card, Dante looked in awe.
         “Jack Sullivan,”
         Dante knew this man, he was the owner of the old Irish bakery across town. Jack was loved by the community, donating any extra money to charity, gave away bread to the families that couldn't afford it, and even went to church faithfully.
         Why would anyone want this man dead, he was a living saint, things are not adding up here, Who hated this man enough to put him on display like this, not only ridding the city of a wonderful man, but also sending an impending message of doom. Who ever this was is going to kill again.
         The park was of the small size, one side leading to the road and the opposite end lead into the woods surrounding the  city. Towards the side that lead to the woods, a deputy discovered a haunting message.
         “Detective Contino! Come over here quick, your going to want to see this!”
         Dante started toward the deputy, noticing him glaring down on a small patch of concrete. Dante's eyes followed suit, instantly losing himself to fear. What was written on the concrete slab, in what was apparently Jack's blood, encircled in a strange symbol, changed everything about this murder.
         “The blood of the 6 shall be spilled, freeing the fallen one's wrath.”
         Just stating the message chilled Dante to the bone. Dante's fears were reinforced, realizing he was standing on the unholy grounds of a satanic ritual. Dante was then struck by a foreboding feeling of hopelessness, feeling his blood go cold in his veins, but found himself sweating. The sky grew dark and ominous, casting a dark shadow on the park. Dante, being drawn to the woods, saw a figure at the edge of the treeline staring menacingly with eyes as red as blood. The rest of the creature was hidden in a shroud of shadows. As if calling to Satan himself the figure let out a demonic roar that echoed  and made what felt like the world shake deafening Dante.
         Disorientated, Dante looked around to find he was alone, every officer, every squad car, even the birds chirping were all gone, his only company being the hanging corpse of Jack. He noticed the figure was gone, gone into the darkness of the woods, but before Dante could even take a breath of relief, he noticed Jack's body starting to move a little. In horror, thinking the poor man was still alive suffering, ran to his aid.
         Dante had almost reached Jack when he started trashing about, tearing his flesh that was bound to the upside down cross, then abruptly stopping only to glare at Dante for a second with a sadistic smile. Dante felt sick, never in his life did he see anything like this. Almost paralyzed in fear, Dante collapsed. Breaking his bonds, Jack crawled on all fours, right up to Dante's face. He was still smiling, just staring at Dante.
         “What the fuck do you want!” Dante shouted.
         Jacks face darkened, then he roared in an inhuman tone.
         “YOUR SOUL IS FORFIT! YOUR FLESH SHALL BURN! MANKIND SHALL BE PURGED AND BLOOD WILL FLOW LIKE RIVERS!”
         Passing out due to absolute terror, Dante was lost in madness. Finally opening his eyes only to find himself surrounded by flames, face to face with a creature so hideous no words are worthy enough to describe this abomination. With eyes as black as the cosmos, teeth that were made and fine tuned to tear and rip flesh, and able to crush bone. Just being in its presence drives you mad, forever tormented. Dante cried out
         “Please god, please spare me...”
         The creature just stood there almost enjoying the empty attempts of prayer.
         “This is the domain of the Fallen One! Your soul is bound to this place, to rot for a thousand eternities!”
         Feeling a warm sensation on the left side of his face, Dante preceded to beg god for mercy, closing his eyes to find himself in a moment of complete harmony, as if closing the blinds on the fiendish world that was around him. The sensation on his face intensified, feeling all to familiar, but he knew nothing in that hellish place was of any familiarity. Terrified to open his eyes, trembling, and drenched in sweat, Dante peered through one eye, only to notice the warm sensation on his face was his dog Shelly licking him, sensing her masters distress and trying to wake him.
         “It was just a dream... nightmare... so real it almost seemed like I was given a look into the depths of hell. But I’m fine, I'm alive!”
         Shelly barked joyously at the sight of her masters relief. Dante had to convince himself it wasn't real. Getting up and heading to the bathroom he looked into the mirror noticing heavy bags under his eyes. Reaching over to turn on the shower, to wash away the hopeless feeling this nightmare was leaving him. If only he knew that the real nightmare was just about to begin.
© Copyright 2010 Thomas J. Kent (kent_thomas at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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