Night Dreams #6: Soul Reaper

By A. Lopez, Jr

SOUL REAPER, the 6th episode in the Night Dreams series connects the cliffhanger in the fifth episode, and takes us further into the lives of Michael and Sarah and reveals how Joseph begins to lose control of his gift, putting everyone in danger. The three must work together to solve the mystery and evil of the beast stalking Patterson Lake and the souls taken over the last hundred years. This episode brings us one book closer to the seventh and final episode of the series.

• Language: English
• Publisher: A. Lopez, Jr
• Release date: Oct 30, 2015
• ISBN: 9781311828293

A. Lopez, Jr

Born and raised in Texas and now residing in Arizona. I am an avid reader and big Houston Sports Fan. I play chess everyday when I'm not squeezing in a little time for writing. I published my first work Purgatory - 13 Tales of the Macabre and Floor Four - A Novella of Horror, an Amazon Bestseller in Occult Horror. Also completed is Night Dreams, an episodic series in seven parts that can be read separately or in one complete novel. My column, 'Ask AJ', appeared in All Authors Magazine online and I have had short stories published on Dark River Press, The Sirens Call eZine Issue #14 and the anthologies, State of Horror Illinois published by Charon Coin Press and Concordant Vibrancy published by All Authors Publishing. You can connect with me on Twitter, Facebook, Goodreads, and my website, alopezjr.com.

Book preview

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Contents

1.1906

2.New Revelations

3.Dried Blood

4.A New Friend

5.Explaining The Gift

6.Time For The Truth

7.Silvana

8.Save Me

9.With This Stone…

10.Facing Your Fear

11.Farewell

12.Aftermath

Also By A. Lopez Jr.

About A. Lopez jr.

Copyright

The Messenger

O’ mystical raven with feathers black,

do you bring a message impending attack?

O’ mystical raven, protector and teacher,

do you deliver a message from the grim reaper?

O’ mystical raven, don’t tap on my window or croak near my home,

nor fly ’round my chimney when I’m all alone.

But perch on my roof to bring goodness and prosperity,

and I’ll look for your white feathers for peace and clarity.

Your reputation precedes you and scares me to death,

is this your ultimate goal in your vision and quest?

O’ mystical raven, I know you will come,

and know not the message until you are done.

So come o’ mystical raven! Afraid, not me!

In the end, we face fate, what will be, will be.

1

1906

Mose Smucker ran fast along the shore of the lake, afraid to look over his shoulder. The sound of something inhuman got closer and closer. As he ran, he thought back to the first time he heard the noises near the lake—now his curiosity had taken him too far.

Suddenly, discovering the source of the sounds was no longer important. The only thing left with any importance was to survive.

The young man, nineteen-years-old, was in great shape and could run as fast and as far as he could see, but the thing chasing him was faster.

Mose kicked off his sandals to gain more speed. His bare feet slapped against the damp ground, his legs churning faster than before.

The noises stopped.

Mose continued at the torrid pace for another fifty yards, and just before entering the woods, he gained the courage to look behind him.

Nothing pursued him. Nothing stirred in the air.

Breathing hard, he took a slow, deep breath, his eyes frantically gazing in all directions.

Still, nothing.

Relieved, he dropped to a knee and waited a few more seconds. He stood, took one more look at the lake, and turned to walk into the woods and get back home.

Mose only took one step before the beast sprang from the darkened cover of the trees and wrapped its huge arms and barbed wire around him.

The beast carried him to the water’s edge and leaped from the shore to the middle of the lake, quickly descending to the darkest depths of the murky water.

Mose Smucker’s muffled cries silenced as his lungs filled with water.

His death, over a hundred years ago . . . the first of many at the hands of the mythological beast, known as the Soul Reaper.

2

New Revelations

S tartled, shocked, and confused from the dream in the woods, Joseph jumped from the bed, his feet hitting the floor with a thud. He wiped his eyes and rubbed the sweat from his face. He looked around the dark room, still seeing the blackened trees, the shadows playing tricks on his mind.

He reached over and turned on the lamp. The trees disappeared but remained in his subconscious, the dream too fresh to forget. He stood and walked to the bathroom and flipped on the light. Looking in the mirror, he saw the stress on his face and the wrinkles under his eyes. His body ached, the dream zapping all his energy. He slammed the palm of his hand down on the sink in frustration.

How the hell did this happen? He sat on the edge of the sink and rubbed his face, attempting to make sense of the dream and most of all, the danger he put Michael in. This was not supposed to happen.

Recalling the dream, Joseph walked to his home office, grabbed his pad and pen, and wrote down everything he could remember. Putting the why behind him, he had to do this to help Michael. He scribbled fast, his writing so sloppy, even he had trouble making it out, but for now, all that mattered was getting the nightmare out of his head. As he recalled the end of his dream, he put the pen down and stared at the pad in silence, the image of the little girl in the blue dress filled his head.

He only caught a glimpse of her, but her image remained clear—the blue dress, her brownish-blond hair and blue eyes—all so clear, even amid the chaos and danger in the dream.

Who was she? What was she doing there?

He picked up the pen and jotted down every detail he could remember about her. The one thing standing out the most was the complete look of fear on her face and in her eyes.

Sarah sat under the big tree with her knees pulled to her chest and her head down. The image of the strange man running from the beast left her confused. In her world, she knew of almost everything before it happened. The man she just saw and the Black Witch years earlier, were the only two strangers in all that time.

This new twist filled her head with many new visions and possibilities. Doubt crept in, and for the first time since she met Michael, she worried about how much control she really had. Things were changing so fast and seemed to be spiraling out of her control. Her side of the woods remained a safe haven, but the darker side now claimed Michael’s dreams.

She looked at the knothole in the tree and thought of the Onyx stone, realizing she needed to keep it with her at all times. As Sarah stood, the wind picked up around her, whipping at the bottom of her dress, causing it to flap at her ankles. Under the tree, in this special place, fear never played into her thoughts, but today it felt different. Before reaching into the hole, she looked over her shoulder. Apprehension took over, and as she felt for her bag, the breeze kicked up, and a chill snapped at the back of her neck. After a brief pause, she pulled the bag from the tree.

Sarah turned and looked over the clearing—nothing appeared different; the animals played and birds chirped.

Satisfied, she sat down, opened the bag, and pulled out the shiny black stone. Holding it at her fingertips, its unseen beauty and power never ceased to amaze her. The smooth surface of the stone could easily cause one to lose their grip if they