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   Chapter 2 With Woodwights, Woe

Dark Bandit Sun By Rian Torr Characters: 10091

Updated: 2018-10-22 12:03

Kyle slammed the door, walking away from the truck, to the center of the dirt road, looking up into the stars, shaking his head. "This is fucking insane, " he muttered to himself, looking down and kicking up a cloud of dirt and stone. He heard a wail again, from off in the wood.

He gazed into the dark of the forest, unfazed but on edge. He had been reading more and more studies in recent years, suggesting scientists were closing in on mapping the DNA of some credible Squatch hair that some trappers had retrieved from their remote cabin in the far North.

Just then his eyes caught twinkle of light from between the tree trunks.

He stared unblinking for a long, breathless moment—when there it was again.

It was like a sparkler firecracker going off—only to just as quickly be doused again.

Then more came on—and stayed on—bobbing and swaying—circling about each other.

It was as if it were the 4th of July out here in the abandoned wilderness of Blackburn County.

He began to back away toward his truck, unable to believe his eyes, when a humming arose.

The humming turned into song, of string and flute, that seemed distant and near all at once.

He got into the truck and tried to turn it on, but it revved and revved and would not start.

He slammed the dash in frustration.

The lights were now dancing closer.

The humming was rising ever higher.

The sound of voices became apparent.

It was a sea of a thousand girls in melodious harmony—as if the wind were a choir.

The scintillating display of starbursts and endless circling grew to swallow him whole.

Spellbound, he opened his truck door and stepped out again.

Hands of light and love scooped him up, as his eyes rolled back.

He blacked out and re-awoke in the middle of the forest alone.

He could not see through the trees which way his truck may be at.

He could not remember how long he had lain their in the leaves.

The moon shimmered above through the crack of the wood crown.

The wail of the Squatch ran up his spine once more—much closer.

He bolted to his feet, hellbent on getting out of there, before eaten.

But that was when he heard it, the sound of time and space tearing.

There was a massive flash in the sky, as if a star had exploded.

Then come ripping out of the split in reality was a shiny ship.

It was shaped like a saucer and set down upon the leafy canopy.

It hovered overhead for a time before finding a clearing to land.

He followed it's descent, tracking fast through brush to catch up.

Down a long grade and across a stream, however, he lost sight.

The moon was blotted out by clouds now and the ship's lights were doused from view. He pressed on but kept feeling the direction was wrong. Finally, the humming returned and he founded himself at a crossroads, with the same glittering lights from before returning—down each way.

The glowing stars flickered in and out as the sprites converged on his position—finally so blinding that he had to shield his eyes—and there was a great flash. After the bright light died off again, he looked to see that the fire show had ended—and there stood all around him paled ones.

They were gaunt and grooved—bloodless, but still somehow glowing from their cores—as if their chakras were still alive—still pulsing from within, lighting them up like x-mas trees.

'We are the Wynderelves, ' he heard in his head. One wearing a crown stepped forward.

'I am Deodorph, ' he said aloud, in a soft glass voice of nevertheless voluminous gravitas.

"What ... are you, " Kyle sputtered. "Why have you brought me here? What am I to you?"

'Very good questions, Kyle Kane, however, we come armed only with more questions.'

Kyle dropped to his knees in exhaustion and exhilaration. This day would never end.

The Wynderelves tightened their circle around him—reaching in with their long fingers.

He put his arms up futilely trying to fend them off—but they fell upon him all arms in.

Instead of what he feared, however, they simply lifted him up together--to his feet again.

'We are not here to harm you, Kyledorph. We come from this dimension—but we are no longer of this world. We were once humans on missions too—but we lost our bodies before finding our souls.'

"What ... is it you want from me? I was supposed to die today—but instead I'm here with you."

'Then we are getting somewhere. You see, Kyle, we died before our time, just as you did.'

"What are you talking about ...? Are you saying I died out there on the lake? I'm a ghost?"

'Not precisely ... You live between worlds now, with one foot in Heaven—the other on Earth. Just as we wander the world searching for those destinies we once lost—so too do you now seek. But time is of the essence, kindred Kyle. For your flesh yet lives, unlike us. We each had one chance to return to our living cells, to carry on where we cut it off—for just like you, each of us was a selfish suicide—and each of us regretted the exit. B

ut you see us here today because we each failed to find our way back to Love—and so we were damned to save 1000 souls before we could save our own. But you still have time to learn your lessons, Kyle Kane. This is your one chance—these next three days—to win yourself back to your heart, by seeing what so blinded you before—then to awake as if from a dream and go on with your allotted days left here on Earth, your suicide having been a way not taken—just a moment that almost happened—and a subconscious wish won to take back the mistake.'

Kyle just stared into Deodorph's dark eyes. He could tell the creature was being real with him. He knew it in his bones that this was the straight rap, that he was indeed crossing over—and times would never be the same again. His mind was a barn on fire with the horses running wild. It was not the night he had expected—but an unexpected turn into the abyss of quantum entanglement. As Deodorph continued to explain to him, now he was fluid. He was more free of his fleshy moorings—yet still rooted in reality. This was his chance, to find himself at last, to travel between worlds and the pages of the multiverse—confined to the visible light—undefined by conventional physics—on a quest to quench his burning desire for meaning in life—with all things in Heaven but time on his hands.

'We are here to help you, in any way we can. It is our purpose, to see souls back to Earth before their time runs short, just as it did for us. Our hope is to redeem enough that we too may someday travel on—although not back to the corporeal, but forward to the final frontier of consciousness.'

Kyle rubbed his face long, finally coming to grips with the surreal state of things—ready to at least put one foot in front of the other and trod on until something made a little more sense to him.

When he looked again, the Wynderlites were gone. 'Be not afraid, we are with you today.'

So he looked down his road, for a sign of where to go, when he spotted a laser shining up.

It was a column of yellow light, feeding back up into the sky from somewhere on the ground.

It was down maybe a mile west of there—and his first thought was of the saucer he had seen.

There was no way of going back, for the direction to the truck was impossible to tell—and so he decided to open his heart up and embrace the weird way things were unrolling. He settled within himself to follow the lead of the signs at hand—and not think too much lest the Devil set him astray.

"Okay, " he muttered to himself. "What have I got to lose." He walked westward, already half the man he was only hours ago—and shrinking fast, soon to dwindle into nothingness and nobody.

He could not help but think of Heather and what she was doing at that moment, but he was not even sure what hour it was—or how long he had been gone. It was still night out, but perhaps this night would never end. Maybe he would wander these woods forever, thinking of her—and history.

After awhile, he noticed his feet hurt less and less—and looking down, to his shock, he saw that he was hovering an inch above the ground—cushioned beneath his soles by an icy blue Soulfyr. It was just a first step toward the Other side—as his passage commenced—on his longshot at redemption.

He knew instinctively that he had to hurry. He did not know what he was looking for—or of what he was intending to do—because there were many frayed threads in his life on Earth to mend.

The hurt with Heather was just the last rung in a long climb down from happiness that he had endured in recent years—including his crushed dreams to be famous—and the fracture with his family.

His cats loved him, but they were easy. His girlfriend wanted to love him, but looking in the mirror, he could not see what she saw. His folks always tried to lift him up, but he was heavy-spirited.

The closer he got to the red beam of light, he noticed more clearly that it pulsed and crackled.

"What the fuck is going to happen next, " he whispered. He pulled out a picture of Heather.

Her rosy cheeks were always so jolly, it was a wonder what she ever saw in his dark moods.

Perhaps she felt it was her mission in life to cheer him up—or maybe she felt that way about everyone in her life—since she had so much light to give, uplifting another was really just a cinch.

The voices of the Wynderlites rang in his ears in unison, rising up from the forest pitch:

'The first cross is a crisis of heart—where crush turns to crutch—and you learn what you've lost. Her name is not Heather—nor goes by any name at all—for it is in you who you love and leave.'

He stopped in his tracks, holding up the picture of Heather to see her under the light.

Her face was fading—as the photo faded before his eyes--into a blank white square that suddenly caught fire—causing him to flinch and let it flutter to the ground, eaten up into hot ash.

Whatever it all meant, all he could be sure of was that it felt more real than a dream.

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