The Hole in our Stars

By Tyson Tike

In this, the second book of the Christian superhero universe (BKU), we encounter another epic struggle between good and evil. Allen has no memory of his life before he woke up in a strange city covered with wounds and abrasions, even his name was made up just last week! Now he has to negotiate life in college with the added pressure of dealing with sword wielding bad guys, winged beings and pretty girls with fangs. Allen will need to discover the truth about his past before his enemies find him and kill him in the present.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Tyson Tike
• Release date: May 15, 2021
• ISBN: 9781737221012

Book preview

Chapter 1

43 Years before the Merger and a few hours after the Entrance...there was nothing but darkness. A dark, thick blackness that swallowed you whole and prevented the mind from thinking.

Then suddenly, small flashes of light spun across the darkness like fireworks. A voice slipped in and out but didn’t make any sense. He tried to think but found he could not, all he saw was dark.

You dead? the voice said to him.

Finally, some words I can understand!

With great effort, he attempted to lift his eye lids. There was a crusty, hard substance that matted his entire face. His fingers went to work, scratching at the muck until he could regain control of his eyes. It was strange, they felt like led. His whole body felt numb, like he had been hit by a truck.

A loud gasp interrupted his process. He stopped and used his arm to try and locate the voice. Footsteps sounded somewhere on his left. By the time he wiped and opened his eyes, the voice and its owner were gone.

He peered around at himself and his surroundings. He was lying on a concrete ground next to two old walls that stood barely apart for several yards. There was a large dumpster next to him and the ground was covered in a layer of clay and dirt. The clothes were a strange sight to behold however, covered in mud and torn in many places with dots of crimson red, its original state was a mystery.

It was at this point when he became aware of the aching pain. Not just in any given spot, but all over his body. His head thundered like a beating drum, his arms pulsed like a million needles were stabbed within them. His left leg did not seem to be able to move, his other had a deep gash that seemed to still be bleeding softly. What did he do that resulted in so much pain? 

Trying to stand, he leaned forward and used his arms to push off the ground. His knees began to knock violently and before he had a chance to strengthen himself, his face met the concrete with an ugly splat. He allowed his lungs to suck in a few mouthfuls of air before he attempted again. A small surge of triumph flowed through him as he gazed at his surroundings. Nothing but the bright light above kept him company on a chilled night. 

Without a plan or purpose, he started walking.

It did not take long to figure out he was in a city, a big city, with buildings that towered so high they seemed to touch the sky. he lost his footing over himself several times, but eventually, he found a rhythm by putting one foot in front of the other. He several times he encounter other people who looked vastly different from himself, but none ever seemed to take notice of him.

He decided that maybe one such figure could help him. He was standing at a corner, with a dark hoodie covering the rest of his features.

Excuse me?

The figure, hearing him and taking notice for the first time, turned the bend and disappeared. The man gave chase after him, caught by the abrupt response the person had taken. The figure was fast, too fast for him. The wounds in his legs stung like fire as he hobbled down the cold streets. Within a few minutes of him first waking up, he was stranded on a sidewalk in front of several large skyscrapers. He felt a heavy weight on his tired chest as he realized he would have to start over.

He had taken only a few steps when he stopped to look at a small house on the other side of the street. It was practically smashed between two massive skyscrapers and looked ruthlessly misplaced.

But something about the house seemed...friendly. Maybe someone there could help him. He started walking towards it.

There was an old woman on the porch. She had light gray hair and wrinkled skin. She smiled as he approached. He stared back, eyes taking in everything.

You look lost, she called from her rocking chair. May I help you?

Uh... He looked around awkwardly, slightly embarrassed by his situation. The woman narrowed her eyes and leaned forward in the chair. 

Do I know you?

Uh...you do?

What’s your name?

He stood there, fumbling for an answer. He had been probing his mind for some time now, trying to remember anything about himself, his name, where he came from, but nothing would place itself firmly in his mind as fact.

I don’t know, he admitted finally. 

There was a moment of silence while the woman studied him for a few minutes. This gave him his first chance to examine himself in the light for the first time. His beat-up appearance could not hide the fact that he was at least six feet in height. His tattered clothes resembled that of a silver color, but they wore tore beyond any more recognizing than that. He was lucky they still fit on his body, as they hung loosely from his frame. One thing he did not notice that she did was the bulging muscles that rippled from his arms down his chest, into his legs. He was clean-shaven with beautiful brown skin and black spikey hair. His green eyes reflected out like a gem in the middle of a clear lake. The wounds were another sight to behold and completely covered everything else.

Once the woman finished looking for his appearances, she looked at his wounds, which he followed with his eyes. They were at least a dozen cuts oozing with blood all over his chest and arms. And at least a few dozen more on his legs and back. His head held three bruises and one swollen lip. A thick, ugly gash sat on his forehead as well.

Appearing satisfied that she had seen all she needed to, the woman rose from her chair and beckoned him to follow her. With nothing better to do, he complied.

*  *  *

It had been a long night for her, but it seemed that not everything was done.

Mrs. Smith left the strange man in the living room while she went to fetch some tea and bandages. She could not see the stranger from the kitchen, but she felt like she could trust him. The man clearly had no idea who he was and how he got in his situation. She had brought him in for two main reasons. Partly because he was lost and needed help but also because there was something about him that seemed off. It might have been his clothes reminding her of something or maybe his strong form. But whatever it was he did not seem to notice.

She walked back in with a first-aid kit and a small bronze tray. Steaming cups of a hot colored liquid filled her nostrils as she hobbled forward and presented it to him. He took a cup and set it down to wait for its contents to cool. He nodded thanks towards her and then sat still, eyes drifting about the room.

She decided now was the best time break the silence with another question. Is there anything you can remember? Where you live? Where you came from? How you got here?

The man shook his head. No, nothing, all I remember is waking up, walking around, and finding you.

Mrs. Smith nodded thoughtfully clicked her tongue. The following silence seemed to stretch out before them until she could find another question.

Well then, good sir, I’m afraid you may have amnesia.

What’s that? He looked a little dumbfounded.

To put it simply, it means you can’t remember who you are, where you are and where you came from. It has many different forms you see.

Oh, the stranger replied.

Tell me, good sir, are you a Christian? she smiled at him, trying to encourage him to think harder.

This time his face muscles twitched, like he had remembered something. He folded his eyelids over one another and sat in a deep silence for a few seconds. He lifted his chin, tears lining his eyes.

I don’t know. I’m sorry, he apologized.

The woman clicked her tongue again, That’s okay, that’s okay, we will just have to start from the beginning. She stepped up to him and took his head in her hands. Turning it different directions, she examined the long, thick hair. You don’t seem to have too much head trauma. And you can speak basic words and sentences. I do not think there is any lasting damage. Other than the memory wipe of course.

At that moment there was a fainted thud and Mrs. Smith turned behind her to see what it was. Without taking her eyes off the direction of the sound she stood up and said in a clear, cheerful voice: Excuse me, dear.

Mrs. Smith opened the door that led to the kitchen and felt her breath leave her at the sight of the archangel Michael standing there. She smiled a warm greeting but kept her voice low for fear of her new guest overhearing.

Hello Michael, what brings you here?

Michael was glowing slightly, a sign that he had just been in the Presence of God. Small golden flames still danced around his arms, neck and torso. He folded his majestic pearl wings and took a moment to study the small kitchen.

Before this conversation, Michael had only ever come down to earth to deliver messages, once in combat, which had only been a total of six times.

I have come to hear a report on the Entrance.

Mrs. Smith’s eyes widen a little. Well, someone is in an ambitious mood.

The archangel smiled a small smile. It was an ambitious attack. Ash Inc is the biggest center of evil this side of the globe. To attack it is almost pointless without the other half of the globe to back you up.

Yes, but Ash planned to unleash the stone and join both worlds. His plan failed, but now he has a massive army, bigger than before. Including a host of demonic super-villain’s incapable of hiding from the physical eye.

The absorbed the information like a sponge, analyzing every detail and strategy.

Do we have the numbers of everything that came through to our world?

Not yet, guessing by the look of the video, I’d say the numbers are much less in our favor.

Video? Michael asked, slightly alarmed.

The old woman bobbed her head solemnly. Security cameras and news teams caught some of the battle, but only of those that came out of the portal. By morning, I imagine everyone will know by then.

Michael nodded. Then it is true, The Entrance has now become the largest spiritual battle visible in both realms.

Yes, Mrs. Smith agreed. "But you didn’t come down here just to hear this old rag tell the tale, the others are in the room.

I have a message for you from Him. The words caught her off-guard, but she recovered and clicked her tongue for him to continue and he took a deep breath. The Lord of Lords says this: ‘Your guest is important to me, he is important to the Plan and he is important to you. name him Allen, house him, feed and clothe him, and send him to Eighfield State University tomorrow morning. Show him love and compassion as I have done for you.’

Only a few decades ago, her reaction would have been nothing short of hysterical. The abrupt timing of it all was absurd. But after serving the Lord for so long, it was just another day to give thanks for.  She thanked Michael and watched him spread his majestic wings and soar out of the small home, then turned back to reenter the living room.

When she entered the room, the stranger was gone.

Who’s this? He asked. She followed his voice coming from her left and looked down the hall. His entire body as covered in white, poorly wrapped bandages. He was staring at a body lying on a bed in a room not too far from the living room. The figure did not look too much younger than him. Maybe ten years in difference, but he was in bad shape, his right eye was swollen shut and almost all exposed areas of skin were bruised and cut. Dried blood matted the rest of his face.

He looks like...me? He said in nearly a whisper.

Mrs. Smith hobbled over as fast as her legs could go. She used the back of her wrist to push against his back and shove him out, closing the door behind her as she did so.

He’s resting and needs quiet, she told him. 

How did he get like that? There was a note of worry and wonder in his voice as he spoke.

She clicked her tongue again. He was in a great battle not long ago and was gravely wounded. You shouldn’t be sneaking around other people’s homes you know.

He lowered his head. I’m sorry, I should get going.

He started to walk out of the house, leaving her in the middle of the hall. Making sure he was not watching, she closed her eyes and appeared right next to the door, where he promptly ran into her. His eyebrows drew together, and he looked back to where she had just been.

Why don’t you stay with me for a while? I have plenty of room and my only other guest may be leaving in a few days.

Are you sure? I wouldn’t want to impose. 

Impose? With me? she clicked her tongue in a no nonsense like manner and then led him back to the living room. Before we start arranging your stay here, I think you need a name, just so I do not start calling you ‘you’. He nodded and they both tried to think of a suitable name. The only difference between their thinking was Mrs. Smith already knew the name she was to give him. She did not like it, as angel names had become her custom over the last few decades, but she did not need to like it.

She waited a few seconds, while the stranger thought deeply about it, then she pronounced his new destiny without warning.

Allen! She startled the stranger. I will call you Allen. How does that sound?

He nodded and took a deep breath. His eyes rolled around the house again, maybe he noticed the stairs?

She wiped her mouth and bared her mushy teeth. God had sent her another student.

Chapter 2

Allen slept soundly in the extra guest room that Mrs. Smith had provided. It took a long time for him to get sued to the comfy feeling and of the sheets and settled his mind enough to fall asleep but once he did, nothing could wake him.

While he slept, strange images flashed across his mind. They were all broken and pieces, never giving him a full image or playing the whole show, but what it did give him, he could see clearly before they faded to the back of his mind.

One image was of a golden street, lined with lights and colors and shiny buildings that seemed to touch the sky. Another was of a magnificent palace made of gold, marble and other materials he had never seen before.

The last one was of a city, not just any city, a solid gold city, where the high buildings and gold streets must reside. The image quickly flipped to somewhere in the city. A special building was there, with statues and marble walkways. And a giant purple do—-

Allen felt his body jolt awake. His eyes snapped open moments before the air rushed around him and the floor slapped him hard.

For a moment he sat there on the floor, clutching his chest. He tried to make sense of what just happened, but the images were fading away. It was another few minutes before he ventured to stand up. the wounds were not fully healed and told him as much when his body bent to allow his legs to slide underneath him. Stretching his back, he tossed the white coverings back on the bed and walked downstairs.

He was surprised to find Mrs. Smith already awake and, in the kitchen, making breakfast. His mouth watered at the smell of the fresh-baked biscuits and steaming gravy and he plopped down at one of the leather stools next to the table. Mrs. Smith greeted him with a smile and happily served him with two biscuits with a small splash of gravy along with a fresh circle of bread she called a bagel. 

Midway during the meal, the woman gave him his first instructions.

After you eat, I would like you to get dressed and follow me. She spoke.

Allen stopped eating with the bagel inches away from his pearly white teeth and looked across the table. Where are we going?

To Eighfield State University, it’s just a few miles from here, she explained.

What’s that? he asked.

It is a college, which a school, where students go to learn new things. I have made a few calls and as it turns out you have been enrolled there this semester. Do you remember ever doing that?

Allen shook his head and wiped his mouth with the corner of his sleeve. She seemed to know what she was doing, and he trusted her so that was enough for him. Maybe his memory would come back when they arrived at this university place. Suddenly finding a new eagerness to his day, he finished his meal quickly and dashed back up the stairs.

In the room, he found a pair of clothes were waiting for him draped over the guardrail of the stairs. When he asked her how she knew his size she merely replied with the fact that she had clothes of all sizes. Why she did, she never specified.

They were off as soon as he was dressed. The morning sun splashed in his eyes for the first time. He squinted in reaction, using his hands to block the rest of the rays. Mrs. Smith owed a dark green machine she called a van and beckoned him to get inside the passenger seat. His heart hammered against his ribs as he sat in the vehicle and was driven slowly down the street.

What’s it going to be like? he asked.

Mrs. Smith chuckled at his curiosity and then thought for a moment. You know, I do not know. I have not been to a college in some years. But I know for a fact it will be bigger than my house.

Eighfield State University was not far from Mrs. Smith’s home, but it certainly was a lot bigger. After parking the car in the campus’ massive parking lot, the odd duo made their way across campus to the Admissions Center. The campus was scarcely empty, as most classes had already started, but it made no difference to him. Mrs. Smith checked him in and made sure to ask a million questions to the lady about why he how and why he had enrolled. Allen had listened intently, only