The Stirring

Sarah gasped as she sat straight up in the bed out of a dead sleep; her blond hair was matted with sweat to her forehead and side of her face. Throwing the covers back she bolted out of the bed and ran to the bathroom. Lifting the lid of the toilet with no time to spare she vomited. As she heaved over and over again nothing but a little bile and saliva came from her mouth. Finally the vomiting stopped and she began to cry uncontrollably. She wept as one who had lost a child. Sitting against the corner of the wall and tub Sarah shook her head trying to get the images to leave her, but they wouldn't. What she was seeing was so powerful it was overwhelming her. She had experienced vivid dreams before, but this was something different.

"No," she managed to whisper. "No. No. NO! NO! NOOOOOO!" Sarah screamed so loud that it didn't even sound like her. When the sound of fearful hysteria left her body a sudden wave of exhaustion washed over her.

  Motionless and breathing shallow she stared into nothingness. It felt like she was floating underwater. 'Peace,' whispered a quiet voice that was soothing and comforting. All fear began to drain from her and she was filled with grace and love. Tears again flowed from her eyes, but it was accompanied with a smile, it was accompanied with joy. It is the stirring.

 

Jarret Tyson stared motionless at his computer screen. These past six weeks have been difficult for his congregation of 200; three funerals, all of them charter members of the church. Jarret had served at Hardeetown Baptist Church for 10 years and he had never seen that many members die in such a close time frame. He knows he should feel sad at their passing, and to a degree he did, but there is also a sense of relief. Many of his members were related to those three individuals so the direction of the church was controlled by a different kind of trinity.

'What do I tell them,' he thought still staring at the screen. The cursor blinked as if taunting him, daring him to write something, anything.

'Nothing. I've got nothing.' Closing his eyes he quieted his mind and prayed. His spirit began to abide and the heaviness of life's burdens began to lift. As he dwelt on God's love he found himself standing alone in a field. The lush green grass was as high as his knees. A gentle warm breeze blew across the field and the smell reminded him of the first day of baseball season when he was a kid. Jarret reached down to touch the grass, but a shadow moves over him. He slowly turns around to see a massive wall climbing into the clouds. Made from what seemed like broken granite rock it appeared to extend into the horizon. Placing his hand on the wall he quickly withdrew it with a groan of pain. The rock was so cold it burnt his hand. As he craddled his injury Jarret began to hear screaming coming from the other side.

"Hello," he said walking along the wall trying to follow the screams. It wasn't just one voice crying out but several. He could distinguish a woman's voice and a child's, it was a boys cry.

"Help me," screamed the woman in obvious agony.

"How do I get to you," he yelled feeling a wave of panic building inside him. He frantically ran down the wall hoping to find a gate, an opening, anything. The boys voice screamed as if he was being tortured.

"Make it stop," he cried, "daddy make it stop!"

Jarret's heart jumped into his throat and he suddeny stopped in place at sound of the word daddy. He thought he recognized the voices, but now he knew exactly who was on the other side of that wall, his wife and son.

"Mary Beth, Micah can you hear me," he yelled.

"Help us Jarret," she shouted. Her cry seemed to come from the far left so he ran down the wall toward her pleas for relief, then Micah would cry out from the opposite direction. Their screams overlapped and became louder. Covered with sweat and gasping for breath as fear and despair began to overwhelm him, he stopped running in frustration. Putting his hands over his ears he turned his back to the wall to block out the anguish he was powerless to end when he saw three sledge hammers sitting about twenty-five feet away.

'Those weren't there before,' he thought, 'who cares there their now.' He bolted for the hammer on the far left, but when he grabbed it wouldn't budge. After a couple of tries he moved to the next one, but experienced the same result. On the verge of giving up he desperately grasped the third hammer and, to his surprise, it lifted easily from the ground. Energized from this small victory he turned to the wall, racing toward it he raised the hammer above his head as the loudest and most chilling scream came from the other side.

"No," he shouted and struck the wall with all his might.

"Babe," said Mary Beth softly putting her hand on his shoulder. Jarret bolted straight up out of his chair with an expression of trepidation on his face. Sweat rolled down his brow as he just stared into his wife's eyes trying determine if what just happened was real or not. Wrapping his arms around her he hugged her with such firmness that she let out a whimper.

"Babe, I can't breath," she said uncertain of what was happening.

"Where's Micah," he asked letting her go.

"He's asleep. What's the matter?"

Not bothering to answer the question he ran out of the bedroom and down the hallway to his only son's bedroom. Stopping at the doorway he slowly stepped inside allowing his eyes to adjust to the darkness. The screams of his precious son still echoed in his ears. Micah was 5 years old and Jarret couldn't imagine life without him. Mary Beth waited at the door completely confused as to what was unfolding. Jarret reached the bed and knelt down without a sound. As his eyes became accustomed to the dark he could see Micah's chest rising and falling with each little breath. Mary Beth watched as he placed his hand on his son and began to pray in a soft tone. Moving behind him she knelt down and put her arms around her husband who was beginning to sob so intensely that his whole body shook.

"Jarret what happened," she whispered in his ear, but he could not answer. It was the stirring.

 

Aiden Jeffries walked calmly down the dark tunnel, suddenly stopping as he realized that he could not remember how he got there.

'I...I was just....watching t.v.,' he thought looking back and forth. Aiden's first pastorate had him growing increasingly frustrated. After three years he was wondering if he was even suppose to be in the ministry. First Baptist Church of Chiefland had gone through 4 pastors in five years so he knew it would be a challenge, but he never thought the apathy of the people would be so deep. He could only see 10 yards in either direction before the darkness hid the path.

"Hello," he yelled. The only response was the echo of his own voice. Realizing that since he had no idea where he was it didn't matter which way he chose to go. Turning to the right he began walking. Ever so often he would yell out to see if anyone else was there. His echo continued to be the only response. After walking for what seemed like an hour he heard a sound that was similar to that of striking a triangle. It was very faint, but it was rhythmic, and after four pings it would stop then begin again. His pace quickened as he moved toward the sound, which was becoming louder. When the sound stopped so did he. This went on for quite some time. The sound never changed its pace, nor did it change the number of pings. It stopped again, and so did Aiden, but when the pinging started back it was behind him. Turning he saw a flicker of orange light coming from an opening in the rock wall. The hole was just big enough for him to fit through and as he did the pinging became louder and he could hear the mixture of voices. The orange light shimmered against the cave wall and Aiden could make out a ledge . Slowly he walked toward it, and feeling compelled to be cautious, he knelt down and carefully looked over the edge. Below was a scene from his worst nightmare. The beauty of the orange light revealed its hideous source. It was eminating from a large stone oven that appeared to be carved from the wall. A small figure appeared from the far side of the oven carrying a shovel with an oversized head, much like a snow shovel. The creature was wearing a black cloak with the hood covering his head. He walked with a noticable limp and was struggling to maintain his balance. Walking to a large pile of ash he emptied his shovel load onto it with a raspy sigh of relief, and that's when Aiden noticed a second figure, except this one was much larger. He was kneeling in the center of the room, and was also cloaked in black. Aiden began to make his way across the ledge as stealthy as he could to try and see what the man was doing. Suddenly the dark figure stood up and there lying on the floor was a human baby. The infant was male, naked, and no more than a week old. The man raised his arms upward and began to speak loudly in a language Aiden didn't recognize.  Looking back to the creature who continued to shovel ash from the side of the oven then to the one standing over the baby, who appeared to be praying Aiden put together what was about to happen. He was able to make his way down to the cave floor, his approach was masked by the loud prayer the man was giving. Aiden moved closer  and crouched down behind what he thought was a stone out cropping, but when he put his hands on it to steady himself they disappeared inside a mound of ash. Quickly pulling his hands out he noticed dozens of piles all the same height scattered throughout the cave. "Oh my God, no," he whispered.

The man stopped praying and slightly turned his head in Aiden's direction.

'Oh crap,' Aiden thought. He looked around for anything he could use to defend himself. There, leaning against the wall was a club hammer. With only a 10 inch handle and a 2 pound iron head it wasn't much of a weapon, but it was all he had. Picking the hammer up as quietly as he could Aiden focused his attention on the dark figure who had resumed his prayer.

'If he touches that baby I will have to take him out,' he thought as he positioned himself for a quick attack.

What Aiden feared would happen, did. Reaching down the dark figure took the baby by the leg and neck lifted it into the air. The tiny infant let out a blood curdling scream. Aiden felt a rush of adrenaline flow through him as his grip on the hammer tightened. The man, with a yell, leaned back and as he was about to throw the helpless babe into the fire when Aiden sprang to attack.

"No," he screamed as he charged with hammer raised.

Spinning around the face of the sinister being was revealed and it was far from human. It's skin was dark gray and seemed to sag off the it's skull. The eyes were a piercing yellow with pupils like an animals, and the mouth was open showing row after row of jagged teeth. With the baby still in hand the creature lunged at Aiden who swung for the head. The hammer missed it's target, but the creatures attack found it's mark just below Aiden's rib cage. Not realizing he was injured Aiden spun around to take another swing at the beast, and it was then that he felt a slight burning sensation. It became painfully intense very quickly. Looking down Aiden saw his blood running down his legs and onto the floor.

"Fool," snarled the creature as blood loss caused Aiden to drop to his knees. His head was swimming and the edges of his vision were beginning to blur. The hammer fell from his hand hitting the ground with a sharp clang. The beast walked past him toward the oven, and once again raised the baby above his head. He looked back at Aiden and smiled.

"No," choked out Aiden as blood filled his mouth.

Turning to the oven the monster hurled the baby into the flame.

"Stop!"

His wife and children jumped and let out a scream. The bowl of popcorn that Grace, his 11 year old daughter, had been eating fell to the floor scattering the buttery treat everywhere.  

"Aiden, what in the world," asked his wife Rebecca who was a little angry at being frightened.

Standing up out of his recliner he reached for his side where the mortal wound had been, but he only found his pajama bottoms and tee shirt. Aiden's face was pale and sweat drenched. Trying to catch his breath he bent over feeling as if he would throw up.

Rebecca quickly got up and grabbed the empty popcorn bowl to put under her husband's face.

"Aiden, what's the matter," she asked rubbing his back.

"It was....it was so......so real," he said still trying to catch his breath.

"Did you fall asleep," she asked looking at her three girls sitting on the couch. All three wore their fear and confusion on their faces. She mouthed to them that it would be okay.

"I don't think I did," he said as he was starting to believe he had just had a vision.

It is the stirring, and this is just the beginning.