"Enduring the Wrath of Ezekiel".: A Novel

By Joe Rigsby Jr.

LANCE CARTER, a contemporary twenty-year-old struggles to determine self-worth while staying in a three-bedroom apartment with a former high-school thug, JEREMIAH LISATH, and a long-term female companion; LARISSA BELLES yearning for a deeper relationship complicates Lances already deteriorating mental state. On top of reality constantly reminding Lance of his worthlessness, a recent fit of horrific nightmares causes so much distress that it forces him to rethink his sanity. In this dream, Lances true self is shown. The altered persona Larissa refers to as ZEKE.

Meanwhile, an unfortunate antagonist combats his own issues. A fallen father, a dying mother, ALDRIC CAIN cant seem to catch a break. Thankfully, his family is financially secure, but that doesnt make up for the sentiment one receives from those who care about them. With everything in his life dissipating Aldric decides to forgo his own mental trauma. All that matters to him is taking care of his little sister, NATASHA. His unwavering goal of protecting his sibling is convoluted by the arrival of FELIX, Aldrics own supernatural representative.

But on top of a psychological battle among characters, these dreams something about them seems too real. The characters in them, Zeke of Lances nightmare, and Felix, the Forceful entity plaguing Aldrics mind seem all too real. In time, the purposes of these guardians are shown. Zekes purpose, as a Seraphian, is to protect and serve the person they serve. Felixs motive, as an Odian, is to manipulate and corrupt. Integration of the characters in an everyday environment initializes an eternal struggle against good and evil. What started out a petty quarrel among men evolves into a full-scale assault among sentinels.

So which side will you choose?

Seraphian the Path of Light,
Or,
Odian the Road to Darkness.

• Language: English
• Publisher: AuthorHouse
• Release date: Dec 10, 2013
• ISBN: 9781491837184

Joe Rigsby Jr.

I am an aspiring writer slowly attempting to establish credibility in a crowded profession. With most editors having already weeded out their "favorites", I feel that if you are to make it in fictional writing, one must master their own universe. In doing so, you cannot be told you are wrong in your writings. All you can do is attempt to capture your own ideas to the best of your abilities. I am qualified to write this book because I am a creative, idealistic author. I am qualified because I AM a writer. I value sentiment in this world above all things. Above money, above fame, above everything - in doing so, I feel that if I can create some sort of a living doing what I love, then it will trump any lifestyle of succeeding in something I do not (love). Since I can remember, I've always had an affinity for writing. Ever since courses distinguished themselves in early grades of schooling have I taken the liking towards composition. Along with motivation and support of a dear friend, I have decided to share my thoughts and feelings to all who care to share it with me. You are all invited into my 'universe', stay as long as you'd like. I live in Central Ohio and am currently enrolled in college, on top of working part-time at a local Goodwill to fund my passion. I love what I do because it allows me to think freely, creatively, and help discover myself on a much deeper level. In writing this book, I have realized things about myself that I didn't know existed - and I wouldn't trade it for the world.

Book preview

Prologue

The Faceless and the Barrier

The light was dim, but I saw as if my eyes had adjusted to the gloom. This was the place I allowed myself to seep back into—the room where I first encountered the Faceless; the room itself depicted a ballroom-like atmosphere. A tinge of red covered the walls of the lounge at which I laid.

A few sporadic pieces of furniture lined the room. The majority of which were a long row of divans that lined the wall. Even without ever setting foot in a piano’s ballroom, I knew this was the setting my dream emulated.

There I was, sleeping; unaware of everything. Looming over me, a tall figure stood—his head almost scraping the ceiling of the first floor. His right arm hung, almost skimming ground; three long talon-like claws dangled at his side.

Imagine it—being absolutely paralyzed before that. I don’t know what he is. I don’t know his intentions in the least… but I know he’s waiting. He’s always waiting. It almost makes me frustrated; but that frustration is constantly undermined by fear. Fear of not knowing. Fear of what this terrifying behemoth standing behind me was capable of.

I’d soon find out. I watched for what seemed like forever. But it wasn’t forever. Eventually, a loud bang bellowed from the second story balcony, and another; and then someone came running down the stairs. Who was this intruder? Could they help me? Oh god and the monster, still there. I listened; the steps grew quieter, stealthier. The monster perked up, oh God what a horrifying sight; its eyes pulsed open, his claw raised. He was going to attack! The intruder ran into the middle of the ballroom, gun in hand! He turned to me, still asleep. Wait, he’s—he’s pointing at me! That bastard was gonna to shoot me!

And so time slows. The next part covers me in chills; an absolute frigidness the likes of which I’ve felt before. It’s the moment that I remember, vividly. The intruder charges into the center of the ballroom gun raised at my sleeping body… the monster shrieks. His arm shoots out, like a spear. It pierces the intruder’s skull; claw and all.

Speechless, absolutely—speechless. His arm… just—went through… It makes me want to vomit. What kind of a sick, twisted creature does that? Ugh, it didn’t even phase the creature. His arm retracted slowly, falling into place with a loud, sickening *pop!*. The freshly made corpse was left to flail to the floor. I felt sympathy for this intruder. He didn’t deserve that—no one did. The faceless then collects the cadaver.

It left me absolutely awe-stricken. All the while, I retain my omniscient dream-induced perspective; it allows me to focus on the creature. Sanguine liquid dripped from the arm of the newfound assailant. His hair, gray with age, thinly covered his scalp.

The dream usually ends right there. No distinct ending. No methodical conclusion—Nothing. The faceless comes, he takes away the deceased, and it ends. What usually results in bone chilling nightmares and lack of sleep; well, lately it’s turned into more of a tool of self-realization

Chapter 1

The Morning After

Lance

Affection is easy to overlook. It’s been twelve long years of denying feelings that obviously existed. My name is Lance, Lance Carter, and here I am, the balcony between apartments; one that I share with an old high school friend who’s done everything from assault charges to driving his car through a local family’s home (Thankfully he’s managed to tone it down a bit) now he’s a certified local bounty hunter—I think it’s just an excuse for him to occasionally kick an ass or two then sleep the rest of the day. And my long-term female companion, Larissa—you could say girlfriend, but I wouldn’t. Commitment complicates a lot of things.

Sure is the life… I snickered sarcastically At least the only thing I’d change is myself.

Putting out my cigarette, I walked back into the house. The sun had barely begun to rise. Too early even to begin normal day-to-day tasks. I closed the door, making sure to leave it unlocked knowing Larissa would be home working her overnight shift at the hospital.

Sup bro Jeremiah said, sprawled out on the couch. S’prised you’re awake.

Go to Hell I chuckled. What’s up man?

You see it, Jeremiah shrugged, Riss getting’ home soon?

She should be—God knows I can’t sleep without her. I said, sounding whinier than usual. Poor girl, living with two other boys in such a small space—sheesh, the testosterone must literally drive her insane. No wonder she works so much, but she always seems so damn perky. I’m pretty sure Jay and I would be completely lost without Larissa Belle watching over us. Hell, we’d probably be dead by now.

You’re full of shit. You had that dream ’gain last night, din’t ya He perked up. Jay is a true friend. I just don’t like talking about it. It’s… embarrassing I guess. I let out a drawn out sigh as my eyes strayed to the ground. Jay got the hint.

Well, I’m here, bro He stated—about as sympathetically as two men could act towards one another without it being misconstrued as emotion.

Thanks man, don’t tell Larissa, please—I hate talking about it, I said.

I gotchu, I didn’t even have to tell him, he knew what would happen. Besides, I won’t have to

I walked over to the window. Its 7:00am—she should be… I stopped. Right on time—there she was. Pulling up in her yellow bug; ugh, I hate that car. She locked the door, tossed her keys carelessly in her purse and disappeared in the stairwell. But at least she’s home, at least she’s safe.

She’s home! The excitement in my voice could not be contained.

You’re hopeless man, Jeremiah said, noticing me waiting at the window; awaiting her arrival as a puppy does for its master.

I shot him a cold stare, just as she walked in.

Baby! I rushed over to her and threw my arms around her. Feeling overly affectionate, I threw my head into her chest.

Jay was mean to me Jokingly, I frowned.

Aww, honey—why are you acting cute? She ran her fingers threw my blonde hair sympathetically mocking me; the hair had become much more dilapidated than its usual flared up bangs look. The hairstyle itself was so unique it had acquired its own nickname among friends, ‘the poof’.

How was work Rissa? Jay asked, ignoring my failed attempt at a joke.

It was very good Jay! She wouldn’t admit it if it was terrible, she just wasn’t that kind of person. Thanks for asking! She ended her sentence with a cute smile.

Any babies?

Not last night, one of our girls is close though, She placed both of her hands on my cheeks and pulled my head to eye level, So you had another nightmare last night?

Told you she’d know

I wasn’t surprised really, she’s a smart girl—er, woman. How could ya tell? I tilted my mouth sideways

Dark circles under your eyes, honey. I’m probably going to lay back down and catch up on some sleep, She gently released me from her grasp and began walking to our bedroom.

Coming? Larissa spun around to me, enticingly.

Maybe, Jay and I were talking about something important. I said, only partially lying.

Well if you two manage to solve the world’s problems before I wake up, then come to bed—you need sleep, Lance.

Pfft, what do you kno… ? I yawned before I could finish the sentence. I hate it when she’s right. I grunted angrily. I’m coming, just a minute.

Larissa giggled and continued walking down the hall.

I rubbed my eyes wearily and walked over to the love-seat next to Jay and sat down.

You remember the dream bro? He forced me to talk about it. I probably would have done the same thing.

Unfortunately, I put my hands over my eyes.

S’hear it, He said, sitting up.

Well, I can’t remember all of it. I said, reluctantly There’s this tall, completely naked… monster, standing in the corner of like an old-school ballroom. He stands there all night while I sleep. He barely moves. Ugh, but still—out of nowhere, this guy comes running down the stairs and points a gun at me. I don’t know who he is or what he wants but as soon as he raises his gun, the monster shrieks and aims his clawed arm at the intruder. The things’ claw stretches, like a spear, through the intruder’s head—

As if he ignored the entire explanation, Jay replied He’s completely naked?

I guess I should know better than to bring up such a petty grievance up with Jeremiah, he’s more into the hardcore problem solving. Something like a bad dream didn’t really concern him.

Yes, Jay I said with a sigh, Completely naked

So, let me get this straight. Jay sat up completely straight, now engaged in the conversation. You’re upset because a creepy tall pervert stands next to your bed and watches you sleep?

Jeremiah, ugh, not feeling like putting forth the effort, Never mind.

He gave me a nudge with his fist, I’m just messin’ with ya, dawg. I used to have nightmares, same one almost every night for ’bout a year.

He’d mentioned this in passing a few months ago; it was about his brother Noah, who died in a collision with a drunk driver a couple years back.

"In my dream, dis huge muth-fuckah took an angle at the car coming at my brother. I wasn’t there when got hit, but I’ve been on the street—that’s where the dream was. The big dude, Rissa calls him ‘Rex’—says he looks like a Rex—but whatever, Rex, puts his shoulder right into the drunk asshole’s oncoming car—knocks it right off the damn road. It ends like that."

Jay… I swapped my tone to that of a sympathetic friend. This conversation was no longer about me. Buddy you don’t have to talk about—

It’s cool man, it was a while back, Jay wasn’t a wannabe tough guy, no way. He was strong individual. "I just wish I could see my brother come home, even if it was just a dream.

I was sitting pretty close at this point; I hadn’t noticed how intently I was listening. I know buddy, I patted Jay on the shoulder.

This monster, man, He paused and cleared his throat. "This thing in your dreams. He’s only a monster if you make him a monster. From the way you tell it, he saves your ass."

I know bu—

Laaance! Larissa called, interrupting me from the other room.

I looked back at Jeremiah, I gotta—

Do whatcha gotta do man, He said, holding out his fist.

We bumped knuckles and I got up to go see what Larissa was up to.

Hey baby, I said, approaching our room at the end of the hall. Sorry Jay and I got talkin’,

I know, it’s fine, Her hand motioned to my side of the bed, Come to bed, love,

I smiled and within an instant—all woes were forgotten. Never see myself getting tired of that. I kicked off my shoes, threw off my shirt and flopped down on my side of the bed.

The lights honey, She pointed.

I grunted, taking a thousand times the effort to get up as it did to fall down. I walked over to the lights, and stopped. I hate turning off the lights. I leaned over to the T.V. on the wall and turned it on.

Maybe there’s something good on, Not even I believed I wanted to watch television. I just don’t want it to be completely dark. I flipped off the lights.

Honey… You can leave them on, She said.

It’s fine; just leave the T.V. on, please. I hung my head, shamefully. Scared of the dark, some freaking man you are, Lance.

Ok sweety, She didn’t say anything else. She knew about my fear; she knew enough not to call it a fear. I hate the dark, I don’t fear it. I doubt she bought that, but she never addressed it. We did grow up together after all.

I crawled back into bed, making sure to get even closer to Larissa—we don’t get a whole lot of time to spend together with our schedules. Oh well, I’m thankful to even have her at the end of a shitty day—or, well, in our special case, the beginning of one.

With Larissa next to me, I immediately fell asleep.

Chapter 2

The Forceful and the Flame

Aldric

My name is Aldric Cain. I, I say I because what used to belong to my father has hereby been passed down to me, own a large funeral home. Ironic, isn’t it? Well, it basically runs itself; I barely have to do anything. But it provides more than I could possible require financially. I’m twenty and I already own a house that my sister—fifteen, knowing she doesn’t have to work a day in her life with father’s inheritance, my mother—bless her heart even though she barely gets out of bed nowadays, battling depression over my father’s passing and ovarian cancer, and finally—I suppose I live in the house as well.

We there yet, Aldy? Natasha answered from the passenger’s seat. I hate having to do this.

We have to, I’d almost forgotten where we were going; the routine visit to the graveyard at which my father laid had become almost monotonous. We visited him every month since his passing five long years ago.

Natasha was ten years old when he passed. We barely even saw him, he was always working.

He worked so that we would all have an easier life, Natasha I shot back, sensing ungratefulness in her tone. "And we do have a better life."

Well, yeah She turned her head to avoid the sternness of my tone. Let’s just get it over with.

We arrived at the cemetery at about 7:00am. Routine, I walked up and cleared any imaginary