First time here? Start reading here: How it all began….
I’m awake. It’s dark. This isn’t right. I look at the alarm clock and see it glowing in its amber color that is 4:03 AM.
“Ah what the hell,” crosses my mind.
My boss is out feeding her cows right now and here I am awake (after four years I still haven’t decided if she is incredibly dedicated or her being up at this time of morning is sheer lunacy). I still have two and a half hours of sleep left but yet I’m awake. Probably drank to much water last night.
“Go to the bathroom and go back to bed,” I mumble under my breath.
I go to stand stand up and find my self kissing my sneakers on the floor. At this point my brain registers extreme pain kind of like when I had my kidney stones. On the same level but not the same place. Force a golf ball through a straw and imagine how much that hurts. Or have a baby. Something along those lines.
I force myself up and realize my ribs are killing me.
Flip on the light.
Look in the mirror.
“Oh my GAWD!” I shriek.
There is a bruise the size and shape of a serving platter along my ribs under my left arm. I notice my arms are covered in nicks and scrapes except they look like they have begun to heal like little faint scars.
Granted I’d had bad dreams before, heck I even accidentally elbowed my wife once, but this is a first. Grabbing the sink for balance I turn the water on cold and manage to splash some on my face and freshen up.
“Idiot. Now you’re awake,” once again mumbling to myself.
I decide its coffee time.
Stumble down the stairs to the kitchen.
Throw in a pod and brew a cup.
Nothing else to do.
A couple cream, sugar, and ibuprofen later I sit on my leather couch with my feet propped up listening to the night sounds in the house.
There are none.
Big mistake. I begin to drift off until I hear the dogs waking up. My buddies Jersey and Shiloh.
“Outside?” I ask and they wiggle their butts in agreement so out to the patio we go. Coffee, dogs and the early morning. What more can you ask for? More sleep.
The dogs do their business and in the house we go. My best friends betraying me for time on the bed with mommy.
Back in the living room I peruse the book shelf for something to read.
“Zombies, Zombies, Zombies, Knights Templar. Ah that will do it.”
I grab my copy of The Knights Templar: The History and Myths of the Legendary Order by Sean Martin and sit back down and wonder why I grabbed that. Haven’t read about the Templars in ages. I open the cover and out falls a paper I wrote in college about the persecution of the Templars. Weird.
As I read my eyelids become like anchors dragging me back to the depths of sleep. I know what is happening and am glad. Maybe I will be fresh for programming work today!
I drift of to sleep, book in my lap, college paper in my hands and coffee on the table.
My eyes snap open.
Maybe it wasn’t too much water but too much Strongbow the night before.
The room is stark white. That type of white that if there is too much light you’ll go blind. I’m in my chair, still in my pajamas looking into an abyss of whiteness.
“What are your intentions?”
I say nothing.
“What are your intentions,” I hear.
“To go to work, come home, play with the dogs,” I think I say only I know my mouth doesn’t move.
Again. “What are your intentions?”
Thank you Katherine Kurtz. I remember now why this sounds familiar. The Adept Series. This is the Great Hall of the Akashic Records.
“To protect the light from the dark,” I spit out.
“Who are you?”
“A humble servant,” I reply.
This has to be the weirdest start to a workday ever.
I begin to see images in front of me. Things I recognized. My face. The red cross of the Knights Templar. Two men on horseback. The drooling face of what I know as a zombie?
I realize I’m watching the playback of a movie. Or the history of events.
This is where the real story begins….