"Come on out, Mike," the man said in a deep, self-assured voice. "I mean you no harm. I'm here to help you." Help, my ass. That voice couldn't possibly belong to the one Milton's men had left behind. True, Mike had called for backup, but they wouldn't be looking for him in this dump. Besides, he knew everyone on the force and, despite the darkness, Mike felt positive this guy wasn't one of them. "Hiding is pointless. I can see you." It was a trick. Mike ground his teeth together, itching to pull the trigger. Suddenly, the need for revenge overpowered common sense. Mike felt a rush of hatred, so powerful it overtook all sense of reason. Like a slow but insidious poison, revulsion seeped through his veins. Scrambling to his feet, he lunged toward the silhouette in the darkness, still clutching his weapon in his right hand. With lightning reflexes, the man gripped Mike's wrist with one hand. "You ready to talk now, Mike?" The man's bone-wrenching grip dug through Mike's skin and straight to the marrow. Forced to his knees, then immobilized, Mike clenched his teeth, struggling against the urge to drop his gun in surrender to this strange and powerful enemy. "Who the devil are you?" The man chuckled—the sound echoed mockingly through the vast emptiness. "Ah, now that's an interesting choice of words. I probably should thank you for the promotion." Mike shook his head, trying to determine which words the man found interesting. "Go ahead and kill me—get it over with, you bastard." "Oh, rest assured, I've been called worse." The man sighed, then jerked Mike's wrist until his gun flew across the room as if propelled by some invisible force. "Your weapon is useless against me." "Oh, yeah? Why don't we give it a try? I'd like to see for myself." The intruder laughed again, a sick, menacing sound that made Mike shudder. "There isn't enough time for that." "I've got all night," Mike said steadily. "And I have tonight and eternity." The man sounded bored with life. "Trust me, even that isn't enough time." Mike shook his head as his own mad laughter consumed him, shaking the foundations of his sanity. This was too damned much. Why the hell didn't his captor just kill him and get it over with—put him out of his misery? What about Carrie? "Yes, what about your darling sister, Mike?" Mike's laughter died an instant death as he jerked his head around to stare through the darkness at the creep who still imprisoned his wrist. He blinked several times, continuing to gape at this strange man. "How—" "There's something you want. My boss sent me here because I know there's some way I can be of...service to you," he said in an infuriatingly calm voice, though there was an intensity to it that belied his more obvious attempt at sincerity. "All you have to do is name it, Mike, and it's yours." "Something I want?" Mike swallowed hard, feeling strangely desperate to reveal his need. It was a need more powerful and insistent than any he'd known in his entire life. It was almost as if this man drew it from him—reached right inside his core and yanked the truth from him. "Yeah, there's something I want, but you can't give it to me. Nobody can," Mike confessed before he could stop himself. "I'd give anything..." What the hell did he have to lose?
"Anything at all to—shall we say—turn back the clock?" His voice took on a mesmerizing song-like quality, luring Mike into a trusting state. "Turn back the clock?" Mike echoed, trying to resist being sucked in by this guy's hypnotic voice, but it was a constant battle. There was an odd, powerful presence about him, more significant than the superhuman strength which enabled him to hold Mike powerless at his feet. "Of course." The peculiar man gave a dramatic sigh. "Really, Mike, how else can we undo all that's happened tonight?" "What...?" A cold sweat popped out on his forehead. "You're frigging nuts, man." "Let's see—today's June twentieth, so all we have to do is make it June nineteenth. Right?" "Sure. Just snap your fingers and make it yesterday." Mike squeezed his eyes shut for a moment. God, how he wished he could really do just that. If only he could go back in time to stop what had happened, to make Barney live again. "So be it." Fool! he chided himself, trying to regain control of his thoughts and actions. No one could undo the horrible events of this night. Not even God. The man suddenly threw his head back and laughed out loud. It was a terrifying sound. Monstrous. A streak of lightning illuminated the mansion, sending dancing sparks to the tips of the man's fiery hair. For a brief moment, Mike's gaze locked with his. The man's eyes were— Impossible. Another lightning bolt revealed the truth. The man's eyes were red, glowing with a feral power that left Mike paralyzed. The flesh around his mouth tingled and he felt hollow inside. Now, even in darkness, those red eyes glowed, holding Mike prisoner in his own body. He had to fight this, whatever it was. This madman wanted something, and every instinct in Mike's body screamed in favor of escape. Every instinct but one. His need for revenge. Common sense rallied, trying to seize control for a flickering moment. Mike jerked his wrist, but the stranger held him fast. "I don't know who the hell you are or what you want, and I really don't give a rat's ass," Mike lied, unconvincing even to his own ears. "Mike, Mike," the man said with that same taunting, strangely soothing tone. He was like a used car salesman moving in for the kill. "I'm here to give you your heart's desire—what you want more than anything else. I'm going to allow you to go back in time." He chuckled quietly. "You said you'd give anything..." A sense of foreboding filled Mike, but he forced it into submission. "Yeah, anything. Everything." His voice sounded hoarse, barely more than a strangled whisper. Why was he buying into this jerk's sick game? Then the brilliance of those red eyes intensified, forcing Mike's doubts to whither beneath an onslaught of fierce hunger. Blood-lust. He would have his revenge. Satisfaction. And more importantly...Barney would live to raise his child. Madness claimed him and Mike barked a derisive, and strangely victorious, laugh. Though the bastard hadn't yet spoken the words, here it was, out in the open at last. Mike knew. "Yeah, hotshot. Even my worthless, fucking soul!"
You know folks, I am constantly amazed at the creative genius of writers! After reading thousands of books, reviewing them carefully, I find a much broader appreciation for the creatives in our world than ever before. Especially women... I could be biased or selective in reading what I want, so admittedly that bias could be just in my selection to read... So, I'm just close out that thought...you readers will have to decide whether or not what I have come to think is true--women are more empathic in presenting their thoughts to potential readers.
One of these books to consider is this one.
How many of you believe that this book would be banned by those who, perhaps, just see the cover and report it? Indeed, a demon is a key character. And, the way I connected this character, I point out that this was a man killed early in life--intelligent--and really didn't like his boss! One of his skills is mind-reading. In my opinion, he planned the ending himself! LOL Or at least the writer who created the character did...
You could ask how I could arrive at this conclusion!
I made the connections...
Slick came to Mike when he was lost in despair. He knew he would be willing to deal... He also knew that Mike, before long, would be sorry that deal had been made! He led Mike throughout the book...
Now, what is a demon? I checked Wikipedia and could have read an entire article on them, but I didn't. You see, I'm no longer afraid that they might be real...
And that's a major change from when I was learning in my early years about "these things..." Take for instance the children's song I learned
It was through a book I read by John R. Tucker, a study guide, that I first made the connection! This song did not follow the meaning of the Bible scripture... And yet, I had sung it so many times that even I could not imagine that it was not a joyous occasion about which we sang...
I had connected the creative joy from a song that did not support the words upon which it supposedly had been written. Instead, we were telling young girls who had been lazy and had not prepared for the arrival of Jesus that we could still sing Hosanna... that it was alright to turn to those who were prepared and assume that their oil would be shared...
There are many instances where I've found such issues of logic related to scripture. How did all that happen? But let's go to a very recent event in the U.S.
The nation we have now is based upon many connections, some of which have been despised by a few, but financially or politically powerful people. They had prepared for a specific man to lead. We all saw him as who he was...
Even though he was seen differently, perhaps through eyes that would not see... Or, could not see because of a constant barrage of words that were used, meant to stir some type of emotional response. It didn't even need to be the same issue... It only had to be one that was important to each who heard it.
Both Mike and Abigail had issues that were important to them. One was his family. One was her family...
One had lost a family member through violence and criminals--fear and retribution drove his actions thereafter... He lived in a world where people had long ago been separated by their personal feelings of good or bad--using their free will. He had chose to fight for the good, yet the fight never seemed to end, no matter what time or place he found himself in...
One had gained a child through rape and violence... Through the theft and loss of all worldly goods... through death of loved ones from the violence of war... initiated by those who were rich due to the ownership of slaves... One had known of slavery, yet when black people came into her presence, she made them friends and kept one close as she faced an unknown future...
Another Civil War had earlier been questioned during this republican administration... Now, wars all over the world are gaining further backing by those who see it useful for profit... Or for cleansing the world they want to have where white men were still in control of all things...
But to achieve that, many lies, cruelty, illegal actions are being performed... A book--Project 2025--was written mandating exactly what was required...and it started immediately.
They did not realize that the power of the people would rise up against them... Those people who saw the connections--the realization that lies and fear had been used to deceive the real agenda of those mandates. Few of us actually read the book... But many had already seen what was happening and knew it could, or would, get worse...
Even if you think it, that doesn't mean it is right...Stop before you believe that violence, hate, and fear can ever be the right choice with your neighbors, no matter who they are...
Even if what you are hearing is from your family, your best friend, or your spouse... You are unique, you have a mind. You have a heart and conscience... Listen to your inner thoughts and concerns... Do some research... Make sure if you think you are acting for the good? Make sure it's true... learn to trust again, by making the connections that feel and sound right to YOU!
God Bless
Gabby
Have You Chosen Barabbas/Trump - Insurrection?
Consider Your Connection Skills...
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