Demon of the Sphere

By Zack Marls

Sometimes you think, maybe if I had gone a different direction with my life, I’d be a lot happier. Sam felt that way, a lot. His humdrum existence was draining the energy right out of him. Sam needed a change, a big one. He decided to move to the country, a complete change from the congested city lifestyle he was accustom to. Little did he know this new direction would put him on a collision course with the unknown evil? An evil so powerful, it can destroy everyone it came in contact with.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Zack Marls
• Release date: Feb 27, 2016
• ISBN: 9781311555410

Zack Marls

Zack Marls is outstanding in his field – or, at least in his bio pic.

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Demon of the Sphere

Zack Marls

Copyright © 2014

All rights reserved

Distributed by Smashwords

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Dedication

This book is dedicated to all those out there that had to fight their own personal Demons. This is obviously a fictitious story - but those of us who have gone down the path, will get the correlation. For those of you who have not, sit back and enjoy the ride.

Table of Content

Hitting My Personal Reset Button

The Nightmare Begins

A Cry for Help

Looking for Answers

Thank God for Lila

The Demon Rises

More to the Story

Overcome the Fear

Time to Face It

Off to the Back Yard

Follow the Lila

Live or Die

We Can Beat This Thing

We made it – For Now

We won, it lost

Hitting My Personal Reset Button

All my friends thought I was crazy. I knew I had to be. My whole life has been that of a city rat. The more crowded the better. It wasn’t like I was a party animal or anything like that. I just always felt more comfortable living in the congestion that city life brings. Life after high school wasn’t what I thought it was going to be. The multitude of friends I had seemed to slowly fade away as the years flew by. Before I knew it, my closest friends became distant ones and my best buds were nothing more than fond memories. I was looking for a change myself when I brought an old farmhouse thirty miles out of town. I figured the open land and all that fresh air would somehow make me a new person.

The tiny apartment I had in the heart of downtown was my dream home. Or so I thought for the first few years. But something kept telling me to go out and be part of this great big world. Experience how the other half live. I still remember the first day I finally moved out. My friend Wrecker helped me take all my personal belongings to my new sprawling villa. Actually, it was four acres with a 600 square foot shack for a house. As far as all my worldly possessions, it took one trip in Wrecker’s pick-up truck.

Wrecker, of course, had a real name, his parents weren’t that mean. That’s just what everybody called him ever since we were five. He was that kid in grade school who had the light touch of a ten ton wrecking ball and never grew out of it. After all these years, we were still the best of friends – I don’t know why. I had a high pressure, fast paced job that took one hundred percent total concentration – office clerk. Wrecker was a forklift driver. We didn’t even work in the same part of town, but our friendship seemed to transcend all logic. As kids we looked the same. Everyone thought we were brothers, but time changed all that. The only thing we had in common was the color of our brown hair. I never got any taller than 5 - 9 and he shot up to 6 - 2. He had the build of a man that worked for a living, where I have the appearance of your typical office boy. I should have asked him to move in with me. After all, we were both in kind of the same boat, single and no real plans for the future anymore. But I was determined to make this little getaway my own small bit of heaven on Earth. For that, I would need to live alone.

I moved in just after Halloween so I needed to get everything cleaned up and livable before the winter weather started to kick in. This didn’t just mean sweeping the floors. The house was in pretty bad shape. How else could an office clerk afford it? Then there was the land – four acres of trees. The property had sat vacant for more than ten years. The trees must have taken it as an unwritten request to be fruitful and multiply. There were tall ones, short ones, dead ones and some that looked like they were suffering from arthritis. Their trunks and limbs were all twisted and mangled. I took it as a mixed blessing. The only source of heat in my shack was a wood burning stove. I would have all the firewood I needed to get me through the first winter. It seemed like a good idea to start cutting firewood as soon as possible.

My plan of attack was to weatherize the windows and doors. The more tightly closed the house, the better. I tried to do a little every night after work. On the weekends, I moved outdoors. I started by cutting and clearing away everything right around the house. A chainsaw made quick work of cutting down all the trees that surrounded the home. None of them were any thicker than my leg so they made perfect firewood. I now had a clear zone of about twenty feet all the way around the house. Now all I had to do was get the stumps out. That took me the rest of the fall. Before I got the chance to start clearing any more trees, it snowed – and snowed, and snowed. Our first good winter snow that year was over a foot. Needless to say, that was the end of my Paul Bunion impersonation. At least now I had enough firewood to get me through the winter months.

That first winter was a cold one. No one told me that firewood works better if it dries out for a year. The wood went a lot faster than I had calculated. I was grateful that the house had been so small after all. It was a lot easier to keep it warm. Driving back and forth to work became the biggest challenge. The roads were kept clear, but that last mile was the harshest - no pavement, no streetlights. Then there was the driveway, itself. The house sat back from the street by a good three hundred feet so that stretch was always an adventure. Would it be clear or did the winter winds drift it over? There was many a night I found myself using the headlights of my car to light the way as I shoveled the driveway. Who needs to go to the gym when you’re throwing several tons of snow every evening?

I would like to say that winter came and went just as fast as the fall did. By the middle of January, I began to think that my friends were right. I was crazy, moving way out here. I was no country mouse. This wasn’t the life for me. I felt like I was living back in the pioneer days, huddled under a blanket trying to stay warm in front of a small fire. Cable didn’t come out this far and I had no place to put up a satellite dish. I didn’t even have a landline. If this was the new person I was trying to find, then I think I was better off with the old one.

Monday through Friday was simple, eat sleep and get up to go to work. The weekends were a little different. There was a window on every side of the house. I could look out and see every part of my land or should I say every tree. There were no neighbors to speak of. The closest house to me was a farmer that lived about two miles away. On a clear night, I could see the glow of his security light shining over hill that separated us. I tried to get into the habit of getting up early every Saturday and taking a walk around the house. I wanted to make sure that no snow had piled up anywhere along the foundation. Then I would begin to look the land over to see where I would begin to cut trees down next spring. The house sat almost dead center of the four acres.