Zion: A Novel

By Re'Dina L. Frazier

Zion is a large cauldron of spicey hot Christmas nightmares and Paranormal
Gumbo seasoned with Psychological mayhem and a pinch of Fantasy. Take a seat at our table as we serve you a platter of Thrills, sprinkled with a cocktail of Coo Coo pills. Don't be shy, there's more than enough for everyone. Try our Supernatural Salads, they're nutritious and delicious. They're loaded with creepy crawlies, nothing too suspicious. Our Haunting soups are to die for, filled with diced eyeballs, forked tongues and pink poodles just for fun. Drink up and be merry. It's okay if you tarry. Immerse yourself in our Bloody Mary, have one flute, maybe two. Don't forget the dessert menu. Peach Goblin, Heart Souffle, Sweet Dread, Chocolate Covered Brains of the Dead. Maybe sweet chills is your deal, here's a bowl of Blueberry Ice Scream, have another scoop, it's a dream. Perhaps a cup of frozen Pecan Pancreas Praline. Sit back and enjoy. If Suspense is what you need, we have live Shows with guillotines. Be sure to come again. We recommend you tell your friends.
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Book's content Quotes by Author.
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Caution: This pulse pounding Novel may cause spontaneous combustion after reading. Check with your Primary Care Provider before indulging.
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Trigger Warnings: Graphic Adult Content.
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• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Dec 14, 2021
• ISBN: 9781669803294

Re'Dina L. Frazier

Re'Dina L. Frazier is a North American Businesswoman, Philanthropist, Theatre Director, Acting Coach, Inspirational Speaker, Playwright, Novelist, Editor, Producer and Director. Re'Dina is the CEO of a Nonprofit Organization whose core beliefs are founded on the practice of humane treatment and service to all living creatures. ° Re'Dina L. Frazier is the Author of over 300 written works of art. ° Of Which Includes: ° • Sadie, The Purple Butterfly • The Spiritual Covering • Rejection Is A Blessing • Mrs. Tatterbaum • Born For This • Operation: Save Halloween • Drag Me • Narcissist: The Soul Hunters • Zion •Eugene •Decadence •LuAnne : A Soldiers Story •Madam Ezekiel ° Stage Plays: • The Plight For A Higher Calling • After The March • Angels and Demons • Blood Stained Hands •Satan On Trial ° Serving as Writer, Director and Producer. ° Contact Information: [e-mail]

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Copyright © 2022 by Redina Frazier. 835531

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to any actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Xlibris

844-714-8691

www.Xlibris.com

Rev. date: 12/13/2021

Contents

By Appointment Only

The Emmanuel’s Household

No Time To Waste

Let The Redeemed Say So

Miguel’s Birthday Party

The Only One For Me

Unfortunate Circumstances

The Art Gallery

Consummated Nightmares

Primal Instincts

Reckless Behavior

Sleep Disturbances

NEXT

Into The Night

Unexpected Moments

Mommy Dearest

Roosters Nesting

Ouija Games

Anger Management

Acts Of Paranormalities

Press Play

Death Becomes You

Mr. and Mrs. Albright

Chicken Wangs and Thangs

Confessions

Zadie’s New Friend

Study Habits

Sweet Water

Unamused Attractions

Avoid The Deep End

Dial M For El Muerto

Lucky Stars

Beast Of Burden

Righteous Indignation

Hail Mary

The Conjuring

Expiration Dates

Dear, Father

KABOOM. CRUNCH. Hoot. Hoot.

Race Against Time

The Del Gotto Origin

Corporate Nightmares

Devil In The Blue Suit

Morgue Encounters

Nine• Nine• Nine

Family Foes

Light In Darkness

Revelations

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Dedicated To:

Darius E. Frazier

You are the best son

anyone could pray to have.

Thank you!

For being my greatest Supporter.

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By Appointment Only

"Big Head, it’s me. I’m here at my Therapist office waiting to be seen. Meet up with me over at the Westin Hotel around 10:00 a.m. Call me back, or text me whenever you get this message."

Engrossed in his favorite wartime movie, Zion, wearing his earbuds, speaks the lines verbatim, unaware he’s generating an audience and too enthralled with the cast of characters acting to see the woman seated near him flinging her arm in an effort to get his attention. When he’d arrived, no one other than he and the Secretary sat in the spacious waiting area. He didn’t notice the other people who’d entered. Zion Continued his impersonation of Sgt Gunnery’s character giving his famous speech to the new Recruits, those waiting on their turn to be seen roared with laughter. Glancing up, he perceived he’d been the Star of his own Production. Offering his apologies, with a humble smile, he removed his earpieces and sat observing the Secretary placing decorations onto the Christmas tree with one thing on his mind. Him getting home to pop Full Metal Jacket into the DVD player, so he could watch the movie in peace - uninterrupted.

After hanging up the phone, the Secretary escorted Zion into the Doctor’s office.

A pot of fresh coffee which set brewing pervaded the air. As Zion sat waiting for Dr. Brennan to arrive, he ate one of the raspberry bagels and poured himself a cup of coffee to settle his stomach. Noticing one of the ornaments had fallen to the floor from the Christmas tree which set on top of the three tier mahogany shelf, he’d returned it to its proper place on the tree.

With it being 8:30 a.m. he was hoping she’d be able to squeeze him in before starting her scheduled meetings at 9 a.m. Dr. Brennan, being strict about her time, wasn’t one for breaking her own rules, but he needed to speak with her asap. Entering her office in great spirits, she removed her tan tweed coat, hanging it up with a knitted yellow scarf and placed the matching hat and gloves in her oversized shoulder bag. With a gleeful welcome, Dr. Brennan grabs her white coat from the coat rack, adjusts her seating and places her candy apple red laptop on her desk. The floral scent she wore permeated the atmosphere, as though she’d been sauteing in it overnight. Opening a black notebook, flipping to find a clear page she began the impromptu therapy session.

Dr. Brennan, quipping, Zion, what brings you here this morning? Oh, do tell me, you’ve won a billion dollar lottery and wish to share half with me.

Zion, rubbing his hand through his hair, feeling guilty for interrupting her scheduled sessions,I wish.

Tugging at her collar,As you’re aware, my sessions are by appointment only. But, since I know you’re not accustomed to overstepping your bounds, I know it has to be an urgent situation. So, I’m going to allow you to enlighten me to what’s going on with you on today.

Zion, tapping his fingers on the arm of the black leather chair, I don’t know how to describe it. I feel as if I’m drowning in quicksand. No matter how hard I try to maintain balance I continue to slip into oblivion. And the voices. The voices inside my head won’t let up. They’re telling me to do things. Horrible things. And the images. The images, Dr. Brennan.

Dr. Brennan, pushing a stack of papers to the side, Sounds as if you’re overworked. What you’re describing isn’t uncommon, our mind tends to play tricks on us whenever we’re too stressed. I suggest you carve out some ‘Me Time’. A little time away from the norm to refocus.

Sighing, rubbing his brows,Easier said than done. It’d mean stepping away from my responsibilities. Everyone’s relying on me to cater to their wants and needs. I can’t let them down.

Lowering her glasses, Zion - it’s important for you to understand the weight of the world around you isn’t your responsibility. It’s not up to you to fix everything, or the people who make up your world. During our last visit, I gave you an assignment. I asked you to begin utilizing the word ‘no’. My question is, have you started practicing telling the people who make up your world no?

Bobbing his left leg in a rapid motion, Dr. Brennan. I - I can’t bring myself to tell the people who rely on me no. It’s a small word. But, it carries a lot of weight with consequences.

Dr. Brennan, with raised eyebrows, Yes, it’s a small word, but until you begin using it on a regular basis, you’ll continue to wrestle with the monsters in your head. Saying no places boundaries where the people in your life can not go. People tend to expect more from us whenever we have no clear boundaries. The word no is a complete sentence. It doesn’t need any explanation behind it. Use it, Zion. Or continue spiral into darkness.

Zion’s face painted with disappointment, I guess I feel as though I’ll be locking people out, putting up barricades around myself if I say no. I don’t want to hurt anyone’s feelings.

Dr. Brennan, "Are you still experiencing black outs from your migraines?

Zion, no longer fidgeting, "Only when unexpected pressures are placed on me."

Dr. Brennan, removing her glasses,You’re tasked with performing several projects at once. All of which, have their own deadlines. It’s no surprise your headaches are becoming more of an issue. I’m not able to write you any prescriptions, but I can recommend you to a Neurologist who can write out a prescription. Is it something you’d be interested in?

Zion, coughing into the arm of his sleeve, No thank you, I’ll manage. It’s worse at night whenever I’m laying down thinking about the things I have to do. They’re not too much of a problem during the day.

Dr. Brennan, reaching into her top drawer of the mahogany side table next to her, grabs a piece of peppermint and passes it to Zion, Peppermint seems to calm a headache. Zion - it’s not my place to tell you what to do. However, as your Psychiatrist, I can make suggestions. How about, for at least a two weeks, or so, you take some time for yourself. Hide yourself away in a log cabin somewhere in the mountains to relax your mind - not giving thought to anything, or anyone you’ve left behind. You may even discover a key which unlocks something much greater for yourself.

Zion, reaching to retrieve the piece of candy,Thank you. It sounds nice. And, I wish I could indulge myself. But, there are way too many people depending on me. I can’t walk away from my responsibilities.

Dr. Brennan, placing a altoid in her mouth, I’m not suggesting you abandon your responsibilities, only give yourself time to breathe. What if you set aside some of your projects. Only deal with the most pressing ones - for now.

Zion, wiping his nose with a Kleenex from the coffee table,This is the problem. They’re all the most pressing ones. Dr. Brennan, this is what I’ve been trying to tell you. I can’t say no to any of them, because they’re all equally important to so many people.

Leaning forward in her black leather chair, peering into Zion’s eyes, Zion, here’s the deal, in a nutshell, if you don’t find a way to release your tension, there’s a risk of you imploding. What is it you want most to do? There has to be one thing out of all the things on your plate.

Removing his red and black beanie and matching scarf, "Honestly, Dr. Brennan. I want to give it all up and open a Pastry Shop. Above all else, it’s my heart’s desire. It’s the one thing I take full pleasure in. Here I am, in College taking Culinary Arts, with no real plans of ever utilizing my talents, because of other worlds I’m building around myself."

With a relaxed expression, leaning back in her chair,Well, there you have it. Don’t wait. Go for it. You don’t need anyone’s permission to follow your dreams. It’s your life. Live it. Start setting the wheels in motion to accomplish your dreams. I’ve always said, the saddest part about living is dying with your dreams locked away inside of you.

Zion, eyebrows raised, exposing his pearly whites from ear to ear, Go for it? It would mean disappointing a lot of people. I’ve never done anything I wanted to do. I’ve always catered to the needs of others. I can’t. Or, maybe I should. I should. I will.

Dr. Brennan, placing her black notepad on her desk,The excitement on your face whenever you began to speak about something you have a desire to do says it all. I’ll suggest you follow your heart’s desire. From what I’m observing, as it stands right now, it’s where you’ll find the peace you’ve been searching for. It may even assist in relieving your headaches. Sometimes, we have to die in order to live.

Standing, excited about his future,Wow. What profound words. I can’t believe I’m going to do something for me. Something I’ve always wanted to do. Dr. Brennan, may I hug you?

Smiling, placing the altoid canister in the breast pocket of her white coat, No, it wouldn’t be appropriate. But, I can shake your hand.

Wiping his palm on his blue jeans, reaches to shake Dr. Brennan’s hand,Thank you, Dr. Brennan. I’ll see you in two weeks.

Dr. Brennan, smiling, holds up four fingers,Four weeks, to be exact, I’ll be in Switzerland over the Christmas Holidays. But, if you need to speak with anyone in the meantime, my Secretary, Kim Lee Shehu, will provide you with the telephone number of a Colleague, of whom I’ll be referring my cases to. She’ll be back in town from Italy in a day, or two.

Opening her office door, beckoning her Secretary, who’s seated at his black marbled desk, schedules an appointment for Zion and bids him farewell.

Kim Lee Shehu, passing Zion a business card with the referred Therapist name and information printed on it, Have a nice day, Mr. Emmanuel. Happy Holidays.

After descending the spiral glass staircase, Zion slipped on his gloves, hat and scarf; And checked his cellphone for messages. Before exiting the sliding doors he sat a spell to get his thoughts together. He felt a little out of sorts and somewhat lightheaded, so he leaned his head back on the black marbled wall, popped another peppermint into his mouth and closed his eyes to embrace the darkness for a quick second. The blaring Ambulance sirens and city noises pierced his ears, prompting him to carry on about his day.

The Emmanuel’s Household

Perched high on a light post, set a black raven, peering through the dense fog of the night at the ominous scenery below.

The menacing black ice stood in wait for the next unsuspecting motorist to come hurtling down the street, giving reason for it to implore its nefarious plan to create a bumper car effect, colliding into parked vehicles which were parked on the side of the road. Or worse, causing a driver to collide into a brave night jogger, who’d passed up an opportunity to view the cult classic ‘Final Destination’. The usual barking chain yielded itself to the enchanting whistling of the trees as the winds blew ominous tones into the atmosphere of the Fall skies. Feline companions which made it a habit of rummaging through the trash bins were now perched on window sills peering out onto the frigid streets while licking their paws after feasting on their meals inside the safety of their warm abodes.

Icicles hung as Christmas ornaments from light posts, mailboxes, roof gutters, garage overhangs, tree limbs and porch canopies, creating a nostalgic and beautiful Norman Rockwell portrait. Homeowners began returning home one-by-one after their long work day. The gears on the frost covered gates which surrounded the lavish houses cried out for mercy as they grind their way opened breaking through the rigid frost. Pathways were lined with the sheets of snow which slid down from the rooftops earlier as the Sun cast its warmth. Blankets of frozen clouds covered the ground, reaching a record breaking three ft.

The Emmanuel’s household was filled with calm, which meant all was well with its inhabitants. For the first time, in a long while, everyone was home - together. Each soul tucked away upstairs on the third floor in their own private spaces doing their own thing. The stillness in the night offered a benevolent gift of peace. Shoes of various sizes were stored away in clear plastic zip lock bags which aligned the wall in the entranceway. The white linoleum flooring had been buffed to perfection. The wide living space, with pure white furniture and furnishings set proper and demure as though it were hosting a dinner party for Heaven’s Angels. Glass coffee tables, end tables, lamps, artifact shelves and book cases flaunted their worth as glints of light piercing through the windows ricocheted throughout the room.

The white oversized cupboards with glass doors overlooking two large white marbled islands were filled with cans stacked in alphabetical order, facing outward. The uniformed vacuumed lines in the plush white carpet on the staircase were a sign no one had come downstairs. The light colored oak banister polished to near blinding levels were absent of handprints. The upstairs oakwood flooring had a spit shine only a Ship’s crew could provide. The three 4 ft. large white marbled twist wall tables with octagon shaped glass on the top were as Knights of Windsor Castle. The fireplace in the sitting room emanated warmth into the hallway, illuminating its brilliance in the darkened places, causing shadowy flames to dance about the walls and ceilings much like Ballerinas gliding across a stage before the Queen. The lone hum of the Office computer provided the night’s soundtrack. The white porcelain fixtures in the bathroom glimmered as they peeked out from behind the still darkness.

It’d been a long day with their volunteer efforts at one of the local Homeless Shelters passing out presents to the children while donning Elf costumes after they’d prepared meals and passed out plates to those in need. Zane, the Patriarch of the family, entertained the children by reading ‘A Christmas Carol’ dressed as Santa, while Sasha, the Matriarch, sat beside him wearing a Mrs. Claus outfit. Zion, his eldest brother, Zacharias and their baby sister, Zadie had arrived home ahead of Zane and Sasha to surprise them with an early Christmas gift. Whenever they’d walked in, they were greeted with a rousing rendition of Ray Charles’s ‘The Night Time Is The Right Time’, with their children reenacting the Cosby’s choreography for their parents wedding anniversary. It was a successful performance, and everyone was well pleased. After settling down, everyone was tucked away in their own personal spaces. It’d been a good day.

No Time To Waste

Despite giving himself an hour and a half head start, the rush hour traffic, coupled with the NFL traffic set Zion behind on his meeting with the property owner of The Gambit Building, a popular spot for new Businesses in the City. Getting off the I-75 ramp, North Cleveland Avenue, heading up Metropolitan Parkway to Memorial Drive didn’t do him any favors, because it only landed him smack dab in the center of Rush Hour Hell. It seemed as though every move he made was being blocked by unseen forces which were doing their due diligence to hinder his progress. Cutting through downtown caused him to run into the foot traffic at 5 Points Marta Station, which served as a test for his patience level, of which he was failing, seeing as how his words became more colorful with each abrupt stop.

If this wasn’t enough, he found himself having to wait for a wreck to clear up in the front of Shepherd’s Spinal Center, which happened to be a half block from where he needed to be in the next 18 minutes. He thought about leaving his motorcycle on the side of the road and race through the chaotic streets, but he didn’t want the hassle of having to get his bike out of the Pound Yard, nor did he want to be sweaty for his appointment. Glancing at the clock on the speedometer, and thinking about how important this meeting was to his goal of owning his own Business, he leapt off his bike, parking it in the CVS parking lot, grabbing his briefcase, and tan leather shoulder bag, tosses his suit coat over his arm and races up the block.

The fresh scent of the flower arrangements which lined the walls of the lobby slapped him in face. Checking his pocket for his albuterol, he raced to the sign-in desk. People dressed in corporate attire were scurrying about like mice in a cornfield, stopping to socialize with their mice friends and scattering about their way. The inaudible conversations taking place throughout the lower level were tense in nature,almost intimidating. The overwhelming sound of rushing waters flowing from the gray marble fountains were amplified by the matching marble flooring and walls in the entranceway of the twelve story Building. The painters inside of a empty office space off to the right were packing up their things for the day. A Elderman, with a long white beard, wearing a coffee house uniform and black apron gave them a bag of bagels and four cups of coffee jammed into a cupholder. The Elderman’s aura suggested he was the owner of the coffee house.

A small child, about three, or four years old, played hopscotch using the marble floor panels as her outline. As Zion signed his name on the white sheet of paper attached to a red glass clipboard at the C-shape desk in the entranceway the little girl smiled, waving at Zion, flipping her curly locks out of her face. He smiled back and asked, who he believed to be the Mom, if she mind if he gave the child one of the lollipops inside of a jar sitting on top of the desk. With the approval of the Guardian, he displayed three lollipops to the little one. A red one, a green one and a yellow one - she pointed to the green one, "It matches your eyes,