Emerald Street

By Ross Parkes

The borderline alcoholic Dallas Mitchell is plagued by the nightmares of his lost sister Katie. Her demonic visions impact the relationships he tries to build and ultimately lead to his isolation. He spends evening after evening fighting the presence of evil as he is chased by a collection of Demons and law enforcement. After he uncovers truths about those around him he will embark on a journey to the edges of the Earth where he must fight his own demons in order to save mankind from Katie.

Dallas is not the only one by whom is tainted by Katie’s nightmare. Katherine is pursued relentlessly by Katie until she has no other choice but to submit to the darkness after her friends and family are all impacted by this demon child.

Finally can Grant the determined law enforcement official gather enough information and courage to stop Dallas from the supernatural ongoings that impact his department, and what will he do when he uncovers the truth behind his suspicions about Dallas.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ross Parkes
• Release date: Aug 17, 2019
• ISBN: 9780463245187

Book preview

EMERALD STREET

ROSS PARKES

Chapter 1

The dark grey rain clouds had descended across the night sky. The wind bellowed across the skyline and throughout the alleyways of the miserable, more unfortunate end of the unnamed city. Heavy raindrops fell from the clouds and rattled against the rooftops. A fork of lightning broke out across the sky and illuminated the tall steel buildings. The roads were gridlocked with commuters in their cars at a standstill blinding each other with their headlights. Their tires lay soaking in the rivers of rainwater that gurgled along the sides of every street. Every drainpipe overflowed, and the rain fell in waterfalls to the ground.

A streetlight flickered with every spark of lightning that erupted from the clouds. Next to the lamp, tucked away under what shelter Dallas could find from the canopy of a closed grocery shop. He slouched against the metal shutters that had been sprayed with colourful graffiti by the local gang. Drops of rain dripped onto his shoulders and down his long brown trench coat. Between his dry fingers, he held a cigarette, almost finished he took one last drag. Dallas blew the smoke from his nostrils and against his weathered unshaved face. He pulled down his hood and wiped back his scraggly black hair.

A sudden roar of thunder was followed by brief silence during which Dallas could hear the goings on in alleyway next to him. He flicked away the cigarette and pulled a handgun from the inside of his coat. He opened the cylinder and checked to make sure that he had six bullets, one in each chamber. Holding the gun confidently at his side, Dallas stepped slowly out into the rain. He made sure not to stray too far from the damp wall. As he turned the corner, he caught sight of what he came for. At the far end of the alleyway, underneath a boarded-up window and in the glare of a stylish neon ‘Open’ sign, was a group of spilt trash cans. Rubbish littered the surrounding puddles.

Against the flash of lightning, Dallas glimpsed at the silhouette of a man being beaten up by a winged creature. Dallas remained hidden and stalked the beast. It was seven-feet-tall with the arm span of a giant and threw the man against a wall again and again. It launched him across rubbish bins and into a puddle of muddy water. The creature slowly made its way over to him and rested its foot over his head.

Tell me where he is, the beast growled.

Who would that be? The man whimpered back.

You know damn well who I’m talking about!

No chance you’re going to have to kill me, I’m not going to tell you!

Boy, Gabriel is not worth dying for.

But what you and the others will do with the information is, so go screw yourself! The man closed his eyes and sighed. Besides, Gabriel will never tell you where she is.

The beast lowered his foot. Oh? And who would she be? It grabbed the man by his hair and lifted his head.

Katie! He shouted back.

And how would a small creature like you know I was looking for her? The beast snarled.

Of course, you’re looking for her; she is the key to Legion.

The beast laughed. Your poor soul, she is not all that important at all. We know where the key is, and it is only a matter of time before it falls into our hands. Katie is something more.

Dallas had heard enough; he took a deep breath and ran around the corner. He pointed his gun at the beast. A bolt of lightning stuck ground and ignited a pile of rubbish next to the creature. He was only a small demon in comparison to the others Dallas had previously met but a big son of bitch, nonetheless. As he stood on his hind legs, Dallas could see that the beast’s Mohawk crawled all the way down his back. His scally wings were closed, and piercing red eyes were illuminated from his monstrous face as he snarled at Dallas with large tiger-like teeth.

Release him, Franco! Dallas called to the beast as he pointed a flashlight to his face.

Franco looked at Dallas and grinned. Well, well, Dallas, I guess you finally got me.

I don’t know how I have not killed you yet, but it's time you left this place. You know you’re not welcome.

My dear disillusioned Dallas, he said with a sly smile, I suppose you’re going to shoot me with that? Franco slowly squeezed the man’s neck as he spoke.

Dallas steadied his arm and his weapon Fre…

Freeze?! He interrupted, How many times have we fought boy, and how many times have you managed to kill me with your mortal weapons. Nothing you hold can hurt me. Franco dropped the man and approached Dallas. He grabbed hold of the barrel and aimed it Dallas’s head.

Dallas didn’t pull the trigger. Too afraid boy? Franco laughed as his wings spread open and he turned back to the man lying on the ground. Dallas took another deep breath and fired a shot at the demon. The bullet flew straight into Franco’s shoulder, and he stumbled to the floor.

My bullets may not be able to kill you, but they can put down your sorry ass, Dallas walked towards Franco.

You may be able to disable me momentarily, but I will not lie down?

Let’s test that theory, Dallas said as he fired another round into Franco.

Bastard! Franco collapsed to the ground in pain as Dallas ran out of ammunition.

The man climbed to his feet. Yeah, take that. He kicked up water from a nearby puddle into Franco’s face and spat on him. The man smirked to gain some self-respect.

Franco turned his head and grabbed the man’s foot. He threw his body through the air into a window, and he fell to the ground. The window cracked and shattered, shards of glass fell towards the man cutting him. A large pane of glass sliced through his torso and blood sprayed everywhere. The man coughed up blood and tried to feel his legs but could only feel his intestines that had fallen from the wound on his stomach. All he could do was sit and wait for his heart to stop beating as his body was overcome with numbness. Franco now turned his full attention to Dallas.

Out of bullets? He climbed to his feet and confronted his foe. With a mighty swing, he punched Dallas across the face. The attack dazed him but quickly he attempted to return a hit, but Franco stopped him with his arm and lifting Dallas by the shirt, he threw him down the alleyway. Dallas slid across the ground and hurtled into a pile of rubbish. He picked himself up and grabbed a shard of glass as he stood. Franco hurried over, but before he could hit him again, Dallas stabbed him in the chest. Franco let out a huge roar.

Come on, then you piece of shit, let’s see what you’ve got! Dallas put both of his fists out in front of him.

Franco pulled out the shard of glass and smiled back. Ha, you are no match for me, little man.

Dallas and Franco exchange punches in true boxing style; they took turns swiping each other across the face. Dallas landed the first big blow as he caught Franco across the jaw. This dazed Franco for a moment and allowed Dallas to unleash a rally of uppercuts, striking Franco across the face once again.

To their surprise, sirens howled in the distance and brought their fight to an end. Pushing Dallas away, Franco spread out his wings and flew off into the sky, making a quick exit. In moments police arrived at the scene and jumped out of their cars pointing their guns at Dallas.

Put your hands in the air! an officer shouted.

Dallas didn’t try to resist, he knew there would be no point, so he placed his hands in the air and turned to face them.

Dallas found himself a small room with Agent Stephen Grant. A tall, well-built Federal Agent. Grant stood in the corner of the poorly lit interview room as he took a cigarette from its sleeve and rested it between his lips. He pulled out his steal gas lighter and lit the end. With a relaxing drag, Grant breathed out the smoke from his nostrils, then he turned from facing the wall and removed the chair from underneath the nearby table to sit down. Across from him was a beaten Dallas, poorly applied bandages stopped the blood from dripping onto the tabletop. His hands were cuffed behind his chair, somewhat pointless as he’d put up no struggle at all.

Dallas Mitchell, you just can’t stay out of trouble, can you? Grant smirked but gained no response from Dallas. I know it's frustrating your father disappearing like that but going around killing people won’t bring him back.

Dallas mumbled too quiet for Grant to hear.

What was that, Dallas? I didn’t catch that. Grant asked, smiling.

I didn’t kill that man, Dallas said in a low voice.

Funny that, no one else was in the vicinity. Let me guess, was it a demon? Grant laughed at Dallas and shook his head.

Untie my hands and I will show you the truth.

And how in God’s name do you expect to do that? In case you couldn’t tell you’re in a secured room in the middle of a police station with armed officers. Sorry, Dallas, you have got no chance. Grant said, refusing Dallas’ request.

I do not have to leave the room, just give me your hand, and I will show you. That cross you took from me, pass it to me, I will show you.

Grant’s curiosity got the better of him. For the past five years, he had been following Dallas wanting to know what exactly he was searching for and, just like Dallas, he too had wondered where Alick Mitchell had disappeared to. Grant stood up from his chair and approached the officer who guarded the room.

Give me that cross we took from him, he asked.

But sir… the officer challenged.

Don’t question me, Grant replied sharply

The officer opened the bag on the table located just outside the secured room and grabbed the golden cross Dallas was talking about. Here you go, he said, handing it over to Grant.

Grant locked the door behind him and placed the cross in front of Dallas. He pulled the handcuff keys from his pocket and unlocked Dallas’ right hand. He left the other handcuffed to the chair just in case his prisoner did try anything.

That should stop you from trying to escape.

Ever trusting aren’t you Agent Grant Dallas smirked.

What’s so special about this cross? He asked.

Pass me your hand, and you’ll see.

Grant slowly grabbed hold of Dallas’ hand. He closed his eyes and expected something to happen. He held on for about thirty seconds while he kept his eyes closed.

Dallas let go. Relax you don’t have to fear anything… yet.

Grant opened his eyes and pulled his hand away quickly. Yet? he asked.

Now turn around, Dallas whispered.

Grant followed Dallas’ gaze and took a deep breath, he turned to look behind him. He kept his eyes closed and slightly feared what he would potentially see. But his eagerness forced him to open them. As he did so, the surroundings of the small room were obliterated by a thunderous sandstorm. The walls crumbled like dust though nothing touched him. The dust swirled around his body, the table and chair which had stayed within his touch. Grant turned to look at Dallas but saw that his body was motionless as skin peeled from his bones and blew away with the grains of sand. Every ounce of flesh fell from his body, leaving only his bones. Dallas’ eyeballs remained, and his skeleton stared hauntingly at Grant.

Turn around, the skeleton whispered.

Grant turned around and the dust immediately dissolved to leave an almighty sight. The ‘Gates of Hell’. He stood on a hill with the graves of a billion soldiers stretching behind him; Legion’s army. In front of him, iron gates fifty feet high were erected between two pillars wrapped in vines, beneath a colossal marble statue of what one could only presume was Legion, the Devil himself. His jaw gaped with large lion-like teeth, serpent-like skin coated his body, and horns protruded from his forehead. The only colour on the statue came from his intense red eyes that looked down on Grant. The sky was on fire and ash fell from the burning clouds. A volcano roared in the distance and fired molten rock from its mouth.

Grant woke from his vision to a glass of cold water thrown over his face. He took a step backwards and wiped his face.

What the hell happened?! he asked the officer who’d thrown the water.

We don’t’ know. As you approached Dallas, the cameras went fuzzy, and the lights switched off so we couldn’t see what was going on in here. We tried to get in, but we couldn’t open the door. After about twenty minutes it opened merely by itself, and the lights switched back on. You stood there and didn’t respond to any of us, but you felt like you were on fire.

Dallas, where is he? Grant looked around the room, bewildered by what had happened.

We were hoping you could tell us. The officer replied. We entered the room, only you were here, there was no sign of Dallas. The officer suddenly pointed at Grant's hand, Sir, your hand.

Grant looked down and saw his hand was imprinted with a special symbol. The letter L intermingled with the letter K. ‘Why?’ Grant thought to himself, realising he had no idea what it meant.

Chapter 2

An apartment door unlocked, and Dallas walked into the living room and turned the light on. His apartment wasn’t exactly the cleanest. Clothes were scattered across the sofa; pizza boxes and empty beer cans crowded the table in front of his television. Newspaper clippings were pinned to the wall with articles written about recent deaths of Catholic priests. Highlighted in red felt-tip were the names of the local priests. Noticeably the title ‘Father Jacob’ appeared more often than any other. Unfortunately, it was he who had just met his fate at the hands of Franco in the alleyway.

The kitchen and living room joined in the same room with a work surface separating them. Inside the fridge, a small lump of cheese and a box of eggs sat on the shelf alongside a few drops of milk in a carton and several bottles of beer. Dallas grabbed a bottle, opened it with his mouth and spat the top into the sink. He threw his jacket over a stool and slumped down onto the couch. He kicked an empty pizza box from the table so he could rest his feet on top, then he picked up the remote and turned the television on. Dallas left the news channel on just to fill the silent room with the random words of strangers. He opened a cigarette packet and lit a stick of pure enjoyment. He took a drag while he released the smoke slowly through his nostrils and drank from his beer.

Dallas saw a faint colourless vision of Katie, his little sister who disappeared when he was ten. She ran around his apartment, halted in front of the television and smiled at him, embracing the teddy bear she was holding. A single tear rolled down his cheek as he stared at the vision before him. The lights in the apartment flickered and eventually guttered off. Behind her, a woman who bore a likeness to Katie came forwards and touched her on the shoulder. Katie looked up, and her face turned to horror. She screamed, but Dallas could not hear her, all he could do was sit there and watch this forever image which he sat through every night. Flames appeared at Katie's feet as the bear began to burn. The woman grabbed Katie’s hand and dragged her away as they both disappeared into the darkness.

The lights came back on. Dallas sat forward and took the last swig out of his beer and placed the bottle on the table. Again, in the kitchen, he opened the microwave and pulled out a plate of pizza from the previous night. With another beer from the fridge, Dallas sat back down and took a bite from the stale food, pepperoni hardly seemed appetising the next day. He flicked through the TV for something to watch and after endless channel hoping he settled for a cheap horror movie. Dallas sat there for the rest of the night watching mediocre film’s until he had enough beer and passed out. As always, he dreamt about the same thing. The day that Katie disappeared.

In a quiet English country village on the outskirts to the city stood an old medieval church. The morning sky had risen, and the entire village gathered inside for the Sunday service, it was a dull and foggy spring morning. ‘Click’ ‘Click’. "That my children is the countdown to Armageddon.’ A powerful, dominant priest stood at the front of the church, clicking his fingers while he delivered his sermon. His parishioners were sitting in front of him, listening to every single word intently. The candles lit around the room provided extra light to expose the images of the medieval stained-glass windows. The flames flickered as a brisk wind swept through the church. The priest waved his fist in front of him and captured everyone’s attention.

The Emerald Pillars look down on thee. His eyes glisten at the sight of power, the kingdom of solace melts in the awakening of the fiery brimstone of hell. Every word he spoke burned a sharp picture in everyone’s mind. He was Alick, the local priest and had grown up in the village, a quiet and weak little boy but on returning from the army, he became this strong, powerful man.

And who should be standing in front of these emerald pillars? Standing tall in the crater of the unforgiving? Legion! he shouted the name, his voice echoed through every corner of the church. Our lord betrayed by those closest to him, just as we betray one another.

Alick climbed down from the pulpit. Instead of withstanding the evil that surrounds us, we embrace it using it to better ourselves at the mercy of our peers. He stood for a moment directly in front of the congregation and then turned and returned to his platform.

Brothers, sisters when will you learn, he said, raising his arms, we have all sinned, even me as I talk to you, I have sinned. Evil is all around us, the air you breathe today is tainted by the breath of the beast. Only when we confess our sins will the Lord save us. He accidentally knocked his sermon papers onto the floor so passionate was his rhetoric. He quickly knelt to reach the documents when a small, dated book fell from his pocket. He snatched the book up not wanting to let the precious pieces of paper from his sight.

The book was written in Aramaic, and it had been Alick’s prize possession since he came back from duty abroad. While serving near the old Soviet Union, his convoy was returning to base when it came under heavy artillery and was hit by an enemy mortar. The blast had blown him from his seat, and as he landed, he hit the ground with such force that he was knocked unconscious.

With blurred vision, Alick had awoken in a chapel. As he crouched blood steadily flowed from his forehead and dripped from his nose, forming a small puddle on his lap. The stale stench of death approached. Alick gradually rose to his feet using the pew for leverage. As he rubbed his eyes, it caused his blurred vision to disappear. Somehow, he had ended up in a place of worship. A statue of Jesus nailed to the cross hung above him, but unlike the usual image that Alick was familiar with there was a symbol on Christ’s chest. The symbol looked like the letter Y reflected on itself.

You're awake then? a strange voice spoke from behind him. Alick turned around, and a man in a black hooded cloak stood before him. He removed his hood, and beneath it, there was an old weathered face with a few hairs left on his scalp and a bushy beard growing from his jaw.

Yes, I am, and do you mind telling me where the hell I am? Alick responded.

The Third Church of Jericho my child, and would you mind your language, we are in a place of worship after all.

Alick worryingly asked, Where’s the rest of the convoy I was with? He already knew what this answer would be.

That was a mighty blast your vehicle took. You’re lucky to be alive, the others were blown apart. I saw you and dragged you away before those monsters could get you.

Alick laughed. Monsters?

There are worse things out there than the enemy troops you know. Some soldiers have been fighting with him for centuries. There’s a lot your commanding officers don’t even know, events are happening that are beyond your imagination. Before I tell you, please sit down and let me get you some food and water. Alick took a seat and untied the laces on his boots to allow blood to flow to his feet, an instant sigh of relief.

You're telling me the soldiers out there are over a hundred years old?

You are correct, he replied. Here, take this bread and water, it should give you some strength.

Tell me, Alick, where do you come from?

A small village, Alick replied and took a sip of water.

So, you’re a country boy. I guess all the noise must be a change from the wilderness of the countryside.

Nonsense I just pretend each night is bonfire fire night. To me, every shell fired is just another firework, you just don’t think of where it’s going to land.

Alick, you seem like a strong man; do you have a wife?

Not yet, he laughed. I’m only twenty years old, I’m just about old enough to fight for my country. He paused for a moment and then continued. There is someone back home waiting for me, though. How about you?

No, I am a priest, and I chose not to wed. I live my life with God, to whom I entrust. Now listen to me Alick, he said, changing the subject, I’m afraid we were followed, the monsters are coming for me.

So why didn’t you leave me there and save yourself?

Alick you are about to embark on a great journey, a new war is fast approaching. When you return home, please take this piece of paper with you. There are four other churches scattered over the world. You must travel to them and find the scripts hidden in each church. He handed Alick the piece of paper. This is the first script, and together with the others, it will make up the Manuscript of Jericho. Once you have possession of all the scripts, you shall carry great power. He took a deep breath, letting the silence of the church echo around them. When you reach the final church, you shall meet a girl whom you must watch over, do not let her fall into the hands of evil. When you find her read from the complete Manuscript and baptise her.

Why are you telling me this? Alick asked his brow furrowing in confusion.

Alick, I have been waiting for you for some time, you live in a sacred village, please do as I say.

The sound of a mortar shell suddenly came from overhead, and the front wall of the church exploded.

Alick, please take this and run, the priest said pleadingly, if you follow the lord and listen to your heart, you will be saved.

Back at Alick's sermon, four children sat outside patiently, waiting for their parents to exit the church. Among them was Dallas, Alick’s only son. At the age of ten, he had already seen half the world having travelled with his father to various countries. His little sister Katie was also with them, although she was not from the village, she was adopted three years before.

Dallas threw a tennis ball against the wall of the church and Lucas caught it with his steady hand, he was stocky for a ten-year-old. Hey, I know what we could do, Lucas said, Let’s go to old man Grisom’s house on Emerald Street. Grisom, or Old Man Grisom as he was better known, had lived on the edge of the village his entire life and in his older age, he had become mentally deranged. He often accused Alick of bringing the beast to the village. Everyone ignored Old Man Grisom and went by their daily lives, that was until he had kidnapped Katie. When they found them both, Katie was unharmed, but a villager had taken it upon themselves to make sure that Old Man Grisom could not take another child. To this day, no one has found his body.

Yeah alright let’s go, a tall skinny Donna said standing up.

But Katie, in her summer dress and grasping onto her worn teddy bear, shook her head and disagreed. Dallas, she said tugging on his sleeve, Daddy said we have to stop here until the sermon finishes.

It’s okay Katie, don’t worry, he won’t mind just stay by me, Dallas reassured her.

He grabbed her hand and together, the entire group walked to the edge of the village. The house was the last residence still standing on Emerald Street. The other houses had been struck by stray bombs during the war. As they approached the house, a misty fog set on the group and swept around their feet. The wind howled through the trees as the sunlight sparkled on the remaining glass in the windows. The bricks were stained with age and moss had started to eat away at the exterior. The front door swung back and forth on its hinges.

Scared, yet? Lucas jokingly asked.

Not yet but ask me in a minute, and I might be, Donna answered, looking up at the house with a concerned expression.

They walked up to the drive and headed slowly towards the front door. With each step, the gravel crackled. Dallas pushed the