What toils in the darkest regions of a man’s soul? What demon’s hide there? For Damien Reynolds it came from somewhere he never imagined. The day his heart was forever held hostage, in the house that touched the sky. All the good he would ever need resided there and he meant to take hold and gather up the pieces he rightfully owned. In his mind anyway.
This is the opening paragraph to my short story prequel to Tent Revival. I want to present the beginnings of the Sage and how he first met Rebecca, the connections with the Pendleton Mine Corporation, and of course Samson. This story is one I plan to release with my short story collection due out hopefully in a couple of months. The novel Tent Revival may take longer, as I feel I will have to seek an editor. I have lots of big plans in the next year and I hope to take you all along on the journey. This story continues to grow and go in different directions. I can’t wait for it all to be out there and for everyone to finally see what the Revival is all about!
In my writers group, Samson has become a popular character. I’m adding an excerpt from my novel to give you an idea. Leave a response and tell me if you like him as well.
He’d seen much in his time with Rebecca. She helped him when he needed it most, when he was at his lowest. Those many years ago.
He was walking home, as he did every night. Baltimore was a dark city then and the only light came from lit lampposts. Where Samson lived was a mile out of town. The street lighters didn’t venture there. He didn’t worry though, he was a big man and had no fear. While at the pub, where he worked, he’d helped a fella out that night. His name was Poe, and he told many an interesting story in his drunken stupor. After the man drank until he could barely stand up, he walked out the door. Five good sized men followed him into the alley. They tried to rob him but Samson intervened to even the odds. Samson fared well, with all but two of the men still standing when the fight was over, and they weren’t standing well. After the incident, Poe bought him a few drinks. Samson had stumbled home, half drunk, half beaten up. Both states leading to misjudgment.
The men he’d roughed up, were waiting for him, one hundred yards from his home. They now numbered ten. Too many for Samson to fight on his own. In his condition there was no denying he was a dead man. He stepped back and prepared to stand his ground. He would go down fighting, the way his Daddy taught him. He raised his fists. He hit one man, hearing the jaw bone crack. The man fell before him like a rag doll. He prepared for the next, swinging wildly in the dark. But to his surprise, no others advanced on him. With his drunken vision, he saw a man lifted into the air and consumed by the darkness. The sound of bone crunching and tearing of flesh could be heard in the woods. Screams like banshees permeated the trees and Samson stepped back, looking around, waiting for something worse than his attackers to come out. What he saw surprised him.
A woman, as naked as the day she was born, walked from the shadows. Red liquid ran down her chin and onto her breasts. Samson felt his pants tighten at the spectacle. Somehow the blood aroused him as much as the nakedness of the girl. She considered him and spoke the sweetest words in his ear. “My strong man, my protector you will be.”
Her jaw began to extend downward, the bones cracking and flesh stretching and tearing. Samson felt, somewhere deep inside, he should run. But he couldn’t, wouldn’t. She ate him, biting and ripping his skin and tissues. He felt pain but nothing like he thought it should be. This pain was pleasurable, a wanting he couldn’t understand, maybe he wasn’t meant to then.
Samson blacked out for awhile, then awoke on the trail, digging his way from a blood sack. He stood, covered in the life sustaining fluid of Rebecca, his queen. Next, he ate the men who tried to attack him and they became soldiers for Rebecca. He supposed he was too, but she treated him differently. His place in her life was elevated above the rest, until the day the Sage came along. He charmed Rebecca as much as she did him. Samson knew, from that moment on, he would play second to Sage. Even though it hurt, he would do as his queen commanded. Ah, but the years before Sage were the best. When Samson slept in stasis with Rebecca. She personally wanted him to be by her, to protect her from those who would do her harm. Back then, it was easier to hide, shadows stretched far across the Earth; people were fewer. Now, Samson was forced to stay awake. He couldn’t be boxed up like the rest. Too many knew about Rebecca, the Pendleton corporation hid them now. But what were they looking to gain? Samson knew they had an agenda. Men who gather together always did.
Samson saw the El Dorado pulling in to Rock of Ages road. Behind it were several people, bloody and weary. It was time to go to work.
Thanks for reading. Leave comments or a like. I appreciate all.