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Glimpses

By: AndrewDarkly
folder Paranormal/Supernatural › General
Rating: Adult +
Chapters: 2
Views: 849
Reviews: 4
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Disclaimer: This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
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Chapter 2

Chapter 2

And so the rain came, and with it many a strange and wonderful things. For one, in a small town during those times, when it rained there was no better excuse for a husband to go into his wife, which was only natural. On the other hand, the crops were beaten by the rain, what the sun had threatened to burn completely away was now being washed away by the rain. Such is the heartbreaking life of a farmer.
The doomsday people of the community, continued to swear up and down that if was an omen, after all it was dog days, and the moon was like blood in a grinning skeleton, they know because Granny Wills, the woman who had looked the very devil himself in the eyes, swore the clouds had folded back and let her see.
Then one morning, the rain stopped, the clouds that had obscured the sun, beaten the crops, led to the impregnation of most married women (and a few unmarried ones) in the town, simply blew away. As the people came from their houses, they lifted their eyes, to an unsettling sky. It was a hazy red day, but something seemed amiss. No one could quite put their finger on it, but they all had a small voice in their heads crying that something was most certainly amiss. But like people do they braced themselves, and continued on. Farmers returned to their fields to begin the long process of sorting out what the good lord had dealt them. Boys continued to play, girls continued to flirt, all was right with the world again.
At least all except for the poor ole reverend, as the gossip groups tended to call him. On the party lines every night the eavesdroppers, the crones, the hens, the housewives alike discussed what on earth would make such a devoted man of god fall away. He sat there now, in the bar, drinking himself into a stupor most nights talking of outlandish things. They would simply shake their heads and sigh, true, narrow is the gate and wide is the way that leadeth to destruction, as he so often said.
And so things went, nothing else new other than one very peculiar thing. Well, perhaps two peculiar things. One was the coming of two strangers, to Auntie Beatrice’s Bed and Breakfast. Strangers didn’t get out that way as much as they used to, but it was not unheard of.
Once more it was fodder for the party lines, who on earth could they be? Two gentlemen traveling together? Perhaps business partners, that would explain the fancy suit one of them wore, but the other, why have you ever seen anything like it? Perhaps he’s with the military? But I’ve never seen anything like that.. and on and on it would go.
The second strange bit of trivia was discovered shortly after the rain had ceased. To the west of the town there had been a rather large area, quite queer really, that had been forested, that is to say a small forest area had existed. Yet after the rain had stopped it was gone, no sign of toppled trees or anything of the like, just a simple dustbowl existed there now.
Had you not known there had been trees there before, it would not be an overly strange thing, but that barren place let loose a fair amount of disquiet in the townpeoples hearts. Children would play there against the consternation of their parents, yet the parents themselves would stare at it with a strange spaced out look in their eyes. It was a mystery indeed. Dog days, cried the superstitious, beware, on days like that the very devil himself could sleep beside you in your bed, watch and see if they weren’t right.
So it came that one fine day, not too hot surprisingly enough the strangers staying in town played their hand. News didn’t move very fast then, you heard things now and again, but not very often. So when one of the strangers let the news drop that this damned depression was really wreaking havoc on the country no one was all that surprised. Soup lines and whatnot were forming in the pits of sin known as “New York”, crime was running rampant,
Rumors were running about, each a little more outrageous than the next, one of the strangers, “Gentleman Hang” as the populace of the town referred to him, apparently was affiliated with the government, a secret military force was readying for the ensuing panic that was sure to follow these dark times. No! That’s not it at all, Gentleman Hang is a rich business man who has come to save the small town from going down the sordid road that so many of the others were.
Whether any of these were true or not, no one knew, fiction and reality runs together from time to time when someone has enough of the previously stated to spare. What wasn’t discussed was the second of the mysterious duo. He was a dark man, hardly talked at all, his pale skin unsettled some and his hollow gaze scared more.

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The sign hung over the door for any and all to see, claiming the last beer for fifty miles, which was of course a bit of a stretch, but then again, given the way the trucks were running these days it might very well have been at any given time. There was a small sliver of the moon in the sky and a great deal more alcohol in the bellies of the residents of “Jakes”.
A small privately owned bar, a little out of the way of the main street, yet very well visited by the elders and some of the younger community folk. It’s a normal night, a bit cold, but you would expect it to be after such a rain storm as the small town has seen. Lining the bars were the respectable older men of the community (a bit rundown looking as usual) however the line tapered off near the end of the bar where a man sat all alone.
His hair was wild, his eyes blood red from the constant barrage of alcohol he poured into himself.
Waving to the barkeep, his hand tapped nervously on the bar, “Another please.”
“I believe you’ve had enough, reverend..” Jake, the owner and bartender, said as he eyed him up and down.
“I don’t give a fuck what you believe, give me another!” he cried, his eyes roving around the room in time to catch the others turning their heads back from staring.
Jake’s eyes narrowed, be goddamned, no one tells Jake Sturgen what he’s going to do in his bar. “Preacher, I think you had best git while the gittins good..” a dangerous edge arose in his voice.
The parson glared at him for a moment, then his eyes slid down to the bar and nodded once, before looking back at him, “Jake..I’m sorry..I shouldn’t have said that, lord forgive me.”
Compassion shown through a bit of Jake’s anger as he placed a hand on the preachers shoulder, “John, we’re worried about you…this shit, pardon, well..it just ain’t you? People are talkin’ all over the town, whats going on?”
John Lyons lifted his eyes momentarily, then sighed shaking his head, “Jake..I think hell just came to Arkansas…”
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