Prologue

John Morley stood looking out over what to most onlookers would be a beautiful tropical beach. He sensed that something was just not right and on the horizon, he detected a hint of disturbance that looked like storm clouds.

He stood under a palm tree which shaded him from the biting equator sun. He was standing on a groomed lawn in front of his holiday bungalow, and below his position, a few holidaymakers frolicked in the pleasure of the warm, blue, tropical waters of the South China Sea. He looked skyward and could not see a cloud in the sky. He noticed that the slight breeze had turned and was now coming off the water. As it travelled towards him, it picked up the edges of the colourful beach umbrellas that sheltered only empty white deck chairs on the neatly groomed golden sands of the resort beach.

He knew it was presenting itself as idyllic, but he could feel there was just something not right, and he could not for the life of him work out what it was. Even stranger was the fact that it did not disturb him. It felt as if he had expected whatever was about to happen all his life. He was even feeling self-reflective. He thought back to what would be a normal life for most men of his age. A happy family upbringing, two marriages and almost three. Three wonderful children from those marriages, a good job until just recently, retrenchment at the age of fifty-five and now searching the Asian tropics for a new life.

He had always felt special, but he guessed most people did. He had been a gifted child and his early working life had been promising. His marriage breakdowns had flattened his finances and from then on he had never quite recovered, but the special feeling had never left him. He had continued to expect that he had some important role to play in life and that one day it would just present itself when he was ready.

It had not. He was here now and his instinct was that it was all about to end somehow. He was confused. What was happening to him and why now? What had it all been about if indeed it was about to end now? What had he done? Why had he gone through all those years of what he felt was preparation?

He shook his head and smiled. Maybe he was just letting his overactive imagination take over. He needed to snap out of it. He stopped dead still. He felt his hair lift as the wind picked up ever so steadily. He noticed it was completely quiet. No birds, no geckos, not even the noise of the water. He looked back up at the beach. No water. The water had gone. The beach frolickers were still standing where they had been a minute ago in water, but now they were high and dry, looking out to sea. Sea, there was no sea as far as the eye could see.

It was totally surreal and he was not sure how he was supposed to react, so he just stood there. He knew he should feel fear and should be running or something, but he also knew it would be a waste of time. He looked back at the beach directly in front of him, and then he saw it. It just stood there as if defiantly challenging him to do something. It seemed to be looking in his direction, even though he knew it did not have to look at anything.

“It truly is the end,” he said, softly.

He looked back out to where the sea had been and the clouds had grown, now spiralling skyward in several large peaks. They seemed to be getting closer but he knew they were really just going straight up and growing in their intensity and size. They had to be many miles high by now.

He walked towards the giant dark figure, first making his way down to the beach. He did not rush, there was no need to rush. He would occasionally look back out at the growing cloud formations, but he did not take his eyes off the figure for more than a brief second. He had not seen the giant ghostly manifestation since he was a teenager and now it had to be a sign that his life was about to end.

As he got closer, he felt even calmer. He knew it was the end, but why? Now that the giant shadow of the mystic creature was only a short distance from him, it seemed to become darker, if that was at all possible. He could now see the ripples in the giant’s cloak that seemed to consume the light around them in waves, giving the impression that it was made of some sort of cloth when in reality if you looked hard enough, you could see the stars, and as he knew, they were real stars.

The closer he came to the creature the faster his mind seemed to be working. His thoughts flooded with images of family, friends, and events of his past. The thoughts were becoming so fast now they consumed his ability to keep track of the surrounding real events. He could feel his emotions racing and an overwhelming desire to scream was building inside him. He then noticed that one image was reoccurring more than any other. It was his oldest son James. He thought he was still walking, at least it felt that way, he was not sure now. He soon lost track of where the giant was and whether in fact, it had all ended leaving only his thoughts. It was as if his own mind had consumed him somehow.

All he could see now was his son in every thought passing through his mind. At least it was now clear to him, his life had been all about James. James was his purpose for being. This gave him a strange sense of comfort and a deeply peaceful feeling descended over him.

If time actually had any definition in death, it was probably then that it had ended for John Morley. Or was it just beginning?

 

 
“Rejoice,” said the Beast, to the Darkness, “for the one thing we know mankind will bring with him, is the light.”

                        The Beast Prophecy

Christopher Golde