Out of the Shadows (38 page)

Trevor pushed with all of his might, forcing them both off of the pyre. He felt the angled spike from the fallen cross pierce through him, pinning them both in place on the pike. He became woozy and knew his time was finished as he slumped forward on top of the prone beast, but as Luke struggled to free himself, he found that he was facing the holy crucifix at the front of the church. He became paralyzed with fear, eyes wide, staring into the face of Jesus Christ.

A brilliant beam of golden light shone through the windows above the cross, illuminating the amalgamation of Trevor and Luke. Trevor’s consciousness waned, but he felt Luke tremble and scream, the light of judgment coursing through his demonic form. He screeched in horror as bright beams of radiance were forced through splitting cracks across his disfigured body, and after a swift gust of wind swept through the sanctuary, he exploded in a flash of blinding light, the echo of his wail the only remnant of his existence.

All was quiet now, and Trevor was alone. As the final slivers of his consciousness dripped away, he felt his body being raised from the spike and turned to face the crucifix. The brilliant, golden beam shone once more, filling him with intense relief and joy. An incredible emotional catharsis flooded over him, and he felt more relaxed than he had ever felt before.

He floated inches above the floor as the light dimmed and became a glowing orb in front of him. “You have done well,” said a deep, soothing voice as the sphere pulsed with dazzling luminance.

“Is it finished?” Trevor asked, unsure if he was dreaming.

“Yes,” the orb pulsated. “It is finished.”

“Am I dead?”

“Your journey here is complete, Trevor. It is time to embark on a new one.”

The light floated toward him, entering his chest, an indescribable shiver of warmth flowing over him. Then, he saw his mother and brother, Patti, Mr. Miyoto, Bishop Andrews, Micah…

And he saw his father.

They all stood in front of him, smiling broadly, as if they couldn’t be more proud than they were in that moment of bliss. He approached, fiercely hugging his friends, never wanting to let go of them. Finally, his arms wrapped tightly around his loving father, and he knew that everything would be all right.

His greeters parted, and with open arms, they invited him to journey beyond on the glorious path of light. He walked forward, toward an abstract form of glowing brilliance, and as his world became engulfed in whiteness, his cherished hands reached up and touched the face of God.

The End.

The End

Timothy Boyd was born and raised in southern Ohio, where he began focusing on entertainment in its various forms from a very young age. As he grew up, he cultivated his love of the arts, eventually receiving an AA degree in Theatre Performance before moving to Chicago in pursuit of a BA in Film and Video.

After moving to Los Angeles, Timothy decided to finish his educational journey with an MFA in Creative Writing for Entertainment.

Now writing screenplays and novels, he currently lives in Hollywood with his husband and his baby girl, Cricket (who is far too dependent for being a cat).

www.timothy-boyd.com