The Graveyard: Chapter 2

The Graveyard: Chapter 2

Outside the door, I found a plain, boring, nondescript hallway. Every fifty feet or so stood another door, just like the one I had come out of. The hallway seemed to go on forever. I turned and looked the other way, only to find a mirror image of the same. I shrugged.

“Guess I’m taking a walk,” I said to the emptiness around me.

Then I remembered the note on the table. It had said someone would be with me shortly. I shrugged again, turned around, and walked back in my room, wondering how long I might have to wait. From my memories, which were getting stronger all the time, I knew it could be only a matter of moments; or much, much longer. You see, my existence depended on one thing and one thing alone – creativity. The more creativity expressed in the world of the mortals, the greater the chance I would be asked to participate in a new story. And creativity was what gave us life. Suddenly, a shimmering of light in the corner of the room told me my wait would not be long at all. I was needed. Now.

When the shimmering light coalesced into the shape of a doorway, I walked towards it, pausing at the threshold. Stepping through the portal was not dangerous. It just hurt. Not a lot, but enough to make me pause. Shaking my head at my own frailty, I breathed in deeply, tensed my shoulders, and stepped through. An electric pulse shuddered through me, causing my muscles to flinch. The breath I had taken leapt from my lungs in a loud gasp. I could feel my face flush. It was embarrassing to react like this, I knew. But, for whatever reason, I couldn’t help it.

I opened my eyes, unaware when I had closed them, and found exactly what I expected. I was in a large room, like a theater, but without the rows of chairs. At the front of the room was a raised dais, and on top of the dais, sat the Arbitrators, beings made of energy and light. Where this race of beings came from, I could only begin to guess. Some say they were alive before the dawn of time, that they were responsible for the birth of conscious thought.

Conscious thought had to come first. Without it, no creature born would ever have stared up at the stars and began to wonder. It was this wonder, these questions about where they had come from and the purpose of life, which led to the establishment of stories. When no answer to their questions had come, no reply from the heavens was presented, the earliest of conscious creatures began to create. And what they created first, were stories. The oldest and most revered of those stories were tales of how and when life began. I knew them all.

Suddenly aware that I had been daydreaming, I shook my head to clear my thoughts. As was required by protocol, I knelt down, turned my face towards the floor, and extended my hands out to the sides, palms facing the front. I said nothing. The first to speak was always the leader of the Arbitrators, a creature known as The Prime. Until it spoke—no one knew if the Arbitrators were male or female—no one moved. I could feel The Prime studying me, its gaze penetrating into my deepest thoughts. As the silence continued, I grew concerned. I couldn’t remember a time when the wait had been this long. Something was very different. Something was wrong. Then, finally, The Prime spoke.

“Muse One-nine-four-three-eight, please stand,” The Prime said in a commanding, raspy voice.

I stood without hesitation and raised my head.

“Muse One-nine-four-three-eight, we have reviewed your most recent status report. You performed admirably, as appears to always be the case. You are one of our most trusted emissaries, Muse One-nine-four-three-eight, which is why you were chosen.”

Chosen? Chosen for what? I wondered.

“For a mission of utmost importance,” The Prime continued, as if answering my unspoken thoughts. “Creativity is dying. We need you to find out why.”


Meet the Author:

So, who am I? Well, that’s a question I’ve been asking myself for a long, long time. And I’m not talking about labels, like; husband, father, brother, son, neighbor, friend, etc. Yeah, even ‘author’ is a label. None of those define me, they only define my relationship to this world.

Maybe that’s why I write. The more stories I tell, the more ‘me’ I find. There’s a little piece of me inside every character and adventure I create. The struggles I’ve had, the wonders I’ve seen, the beauty I’ve encountered, and the sorrow I’ve felt.

I’ve been writing since I was young; I just never had the courage before to let the world read any of it. But what good is creating something if no one sees it but you? Besides, I think the only way we can truly know someone is to find the memories they leave behind. I wonder what my memories will be…

Connect with Michael Chrobak:

http://www.michaelchrobakauthor.com

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Don’t forget to check out The Paladin of Panama, Book 2 in the Brother Thomas and the Guardians of Zion series

Brother Thomas and the Guardians of Zion is a Christian YA Fantasy series that asks the question, “What if the Fruits of the Holy Spirit manifested as superpowers?” Faith, Patience, Chastity, Charity, Joy, Peace, Kindness, Goodness, Generosity, Gentleness, Modesty and Self-Control as superpowers? Why not? Jesus said our faith can move mountains, right?

Book One, Foundations of Faith (the fruit of Faith) begins the saga, as young Thomas, a typical teen with serious doubts about his faith, faces several significant trials as he begins to discover the true depth of his faith. He is visited in a dream by one of the Saints who gives him a quest – to find the Guardians of Zion, young people, much like himself, who have been gifted with special powers. The first of these is Theresa, who calls herself The Endlessly Dying Girl.

Book Two, The Paladin of Panama (the fruit of Chastity) finds Thomas deep in the jungle during a mission project to help build a school when he is once more challenged by The Darkness, aka: the Devil. This time, not only is his life in jeopardy, but so, too, are the lives of his friends, one of which is destined to become The Paladin and will wear the Armor of God.

Book Three, The Guardians Crest (the fruit of Patience) is currently in progress and is scheduled to be released before the end of the year. Who will the next teenage superhero be? And what spiritual superpower will they control? All will be revealed….soon.

You can find out more about the author, his books, and information regarding discounts for schools, churches, youth programs and book clubs on his website at https://michaelchrobakauthor.com or on Amazon by clicking here.