Divinity: The Gathering: Book One (6 page)

“Nice try.” I said giving it a stern look of indignation as I reached down to pick up my back pack and my paper, still trembling on the inside at the unexpecte
dly frightening scenario. Professor Phillips’ chest was rising and falling in a steady rhythm, but since he looked like he could be dead, I figured that I should at least check on him to make sure.

             
Keeping my eyes on the shadow mass that still hovered I moved around his desk and gently grasped his shoulder, giving him a slight shake.

“Professor Phillips?” I asked cautiously.

His head lolled, and he groaned.

“Professor Phillips, are you okay? Do you want me to
get the nurse?” I asked more loudly into his ear.

He remained unresponsive with eyes closed, but he was breathing steadily.

I’d get the nurse anyway. I headed back to the door.

The next instant was a blur, and it happened so incredibly fast, that I barely had time to turn around when an enraged, low inhuman sounding growl took me off guard and made my skin crawl. I don’t know how I managed to move that quickly. Gasping, I partially dove and half fell backwards against the wall beside the door as something solid came flying at me with such intense speed that it e
mbedded itself in the wall just where my head had been with a sharp thud.

It took me a moment to regain my thoughts and senses as to what just happened as my eyes i
mmediately flicked to Professor Phillips, who was standing again. His rage was reddening his normally pale face, and his whole body heaved with anger as he scowled and stared me down.

I shivered, swallowing and then biting my lip as I quickly scrambled back up to my feet, adrenaline pumping and heart hammering.

“That was simply a warning…I could kill you easily if I wanted…” The dark, malevolent entity half hissed; half growled through Professor Phillips clenched, coffee stained teeth.

I did the only thing I could think to do that I believed would have any kind of remote effect as a defense.

I began to recite an old prayer my Grandmother used to say when we were sitting atop our roof in the hot, mosquito infested rain that third night after the hurricane.

“There is only one true God, and he is almighty. Led by faith I am in your hands; Give me the strength and the will to fight against the darkness as I walk…” I
began to whisper and with each word Professor Phillips seemed to get angrier. His body jerked in awkward spasms like some sort of a crazed marionette. It was almost as if he were trying to fight against whatever took possession of him just then too.

I continued and spoke even louder, “You are the only God of this world, use me to fend off the darkness and the dark ones during the final hours of this earth…” I said as I rose to my full height in defiance to the heavy, pressing energy overtaking the office and stared the thing in Professor Phillips down.

Instantly, I felt a peculiar and different energy begin to rise all around me. The air grew warmer, feeling charged with static and laced with the distinct scent of ozone electricity. It was like the sensation that hits you in the face when you first open the dryer without having used fabric softener right after the dry cycle.

I could sense it was something else supernatural in the room with us now but of what source I didn’t know. I couldn’t tell if it were evil or not either. Though I couldn’t see it, it seemed to have a dramatic...opposing e
ffect on the current draining energy that overtook the air in here. The dizzying feeling I’d been having also begun to subside slowly but gradually. The shadow screeched, this time flying out of Professor Phillips like a gunshot and directly out of the window to the right behind his desk and then disappearing altogether.

Had God answered my prayer?

              Slowly, the room regained its normal pressure, and both the biliousness and fatiguing feeling ceased miraculously. Professor Phillips collapsed again into his chair with a coughing fit.

I watched and waited for a moment, holding my breath for a beat before slowly moving back over to him.

The cold pin pricks along my skin had turned into chilled beads of sweat, and I felt icky and damp all over beneath my red IU sweatshirt. The now cool, wet, camisole tank top I wore underneath practically melded uncomfortably to me.

“Professor, are you okay?” I asked as I studied him.

He finally cleared his throat, sweat beading over his wide forehead and upper lip as he looked up at me with a confused expression. His eyes were bloodshot and glazed over as he wrinkled his brow and then looked around his office as if he couldn’t remember where he was much less how he had gotten here himself.

I looked around too for good measure, still sensing something in the room and though really powerful, I don’t think it was a negative presence a
nymore.

Was it an angel standing guard? The one who inte
rvened just now? I wondered and then assumed so.

“I’m…fine… I think. What…” he breathlessly began and then trailed off, rubbing a hand over his face and forehead.

“I’m gonna get the nurse for you.” I told him as I turned to grab my things and then stopped short as my mouth fell open. I caught sight of what the object that had been aiming for my head had been. Something metal was jutting from the wall— as a reminder that what happened really did just take place.

It was a metal ruler.

I was stunned at the tremendous amount of force it took to embed it eight inches into the wall. That would have really hurt if it didn’t kill me instantly but then again, that or scaring me had been the sole purpose. It worked… I swallowed hard, unable to believe what just happened and still shaking inside.

I then turned to look back at Professor Phillips, wo
ndering if he had seen it yet.

He had and an even bigger look of alarm and conf
usion came over his face.

“How in the world?” he asked. His expression turned to shock as he stood up, about to round his desk in order to investigate the reasoning behind why his ru
ler was sticking out of the wall.

“I got it.” I said as I reached up and grabbed the end of it. I grunted in my attempt at trying to pull and wriggle it free. It was in there good. I twisted and pulled backwards, all the way up on my tip-toes with all my strength to try to remove it, but it wouldn’t even budge.

“No, no I’ve got it; you’ll hurt yourself. How bizarre…” He said as he came over to stand beside me. I moved aside to let him take it while rubbing the pinched indentations in my palms that had been imprinted by my grip on the ruler.

It took him a small amount of effort too, and once he removed it; he stood and turned it over in his hands as if it were some foreign object and then gaped at the gash in the wall, stupefied. I wasn’t about to offer any explanation, unless he thought I did it.

I hoped he didn’t think I did it.

I couldn’t have.

He finally snapped out of his silent wonder, “Why are you here Miss Roberts?” he ultimately asked me then as if he had even forgotten I had been standing next to him too.

Huh? He didn’t remember anything?

“You said you wanted to talk to me about what we discussed in class and my paper.” I replied with a raised brow.

He looked confused as he examined the deep gash in the wall again and then ran a finger over it, still pe
rplexed.

“Um, yes but perhaps you can come back by tomo
rrow. I’m feeling a little tired right now.” He sounded winded as he pinched the bridge of his nose and sniffed.

“Do you want me to get or call someone for you?” I asked.

“No, no, I’ll be alright. It’s just a sudden migraine is all,” He waved off with a sigh as he moved awkwardly back over to his desk.

He looked lost and distraught as he sucked in a ragged breath and sat back down in his chair.

“Okay, well rest and relax and take care then.” I finally said, and I wasted no time gathering my things again and making for the door.

“Miss Roberts...” Professor Phillips blurted out as if he suddenly remembered something.

I tensed and turned my head around to face him with wide eyes, my hand firmly gripping on the knob.

He was smiling, a genuinely real expression of grat
itude, and I wasn’t sure if I should go ahead and bolt or grab something for a makeshift weapon.

“Yes?” I replied.

“Thank you for asking.” He then said with a curt nod.

That was both weird and unexpected, but his face held sincerity to match his tone.

“Sure.” I said quickly while turning the doorknob once again.

I took note that it had turned with ease this time, a
pparently having never been locked in the first place.

I found an empty concrete bench, still in shock. I needed to take a moment to think while I waited for Joel in the smaller courtyard facing the parking lot next to an oversized street clock.

I was early, but that was fine because it a
llowed me more time to digest and ruminate over what had just happened. I was still in disbelief and encumbered by what felt like a heavy weight of dread settling over me. In some ways, it was closely connected to my dream last night, which further had me spooked and terrified.

This hadn’t been a dream though.

I had actually been attacked— physically by a dark shadow, and it could have easily hurt me or worse. I wondered why the shadow hadn’t tried to possess me though. Instead, it spoke to me.

I never thought they could do that either u
ntil now. What had it been talking about in regard to ‘Him having no patience or mercy'? Who and why did the shadows want me? How come they were never this bold before? Was it because all of those dreams really were trying to tell me something after all? Maybe they were just trying to put fear in me since nothing else had worked up to this point. I had managed to survive, endure and escape all of their attempts in the past, so they were trying a different more direct tactic and so far, it was working.

The notification melody beeped on my phone, and I glanced at it not even realizing ea
rlier when I had looked at it, that there had been an apparent missed call and a voicemail left from the Hospice too.

It was Joel, texting me that he was on his way. There were several other notifications, that friends had posted statuses on their face book pages. I hadn’t logged on in ages let alone wondered why I even signed up for a page anyway.

              I tapped the voicemail icon on my screen as it dialed into my voicemail box, and I waited for the automated voice to prompt me to enter my password followed by the pound sign.

It was Lenell voice. She was the head of admi
nistration at the Hospice where I volunteered three days a week. It was located about ten miles outside of the city limits.

I had started doing volunteer work after spending my grandmothers last few weeks with her at a Hospice back in Florida. It was an amazing and humbling e
xperience to know that even simply sitting with someone, reading a book or talking to them brought them the peace and comfort they needed in their final days or hours.

No one should ever have to die alone.

I know that with barely any family left myself; it was my own biggest fear.

              It meant so much not just to the people who were dying, but it gave solace to me as well. So once I moved to Indiana and started college, I sought out the closest Hospice I could find and signed up to volunteer.

Between the hospice and spending weekends as an assistant gymna
stics coach at the local YMCA, my schedule remained pretty full and busy, and it was just the way I liked it. It prevented me from dwelling too much on myself and keeping me from picking up and carrying around the pity pot filled with my own worries and fears.

Lenell’s hearty voice came through asking if I could call her back to see if I could come in an hour earlier this evening at four instead of five because two of the regular staff nurses were out sick today.

I started to dial the number of the hospice after hanging up from voicemail. I had my phone to my ear, listening to it ring twice, before someone other than Lenell picked up. That’s when I got an eerie static electric sensation prickling across my skin again, and I instantly stiffened and looked up, scanning the area around me. There was no one and nothing pertinent that I could see next to or even near me. A handful of students were passing back and forth, but that was it.

“Serenity Lake Hospice this is Terrie can I help you?” The voice came through— sounding distant to me at first.

“Uh…hi Terrie, is Lenell there?” I asked as I panned the entire courtyard and the vicinity around me again.

The sensation was growing more prominent. I could even feel the soft charge of static near my ears now that had my hair standing and floating on end.

“She’s away from the desk at the moment may I take a message?”

“If you could just let her know Star called her back, and that I got her message. I can and will be there at about four.” I told her.