The Twins of Noremway Parish by Eric R. Johnston Page A

could think of no other words to describe this being.
    The three demons were in front of him and blocked his way as he attempted to move past them.
    “ Do you mind?” Phoenix asked, but they still did not move. The being suspended in “chains” spoke to some entity in the shadows. He decided instead of just standing behind these three demons, he would try to either get the attention of the “chained” being or whoever he was talking to.
    “ Eh! I am Sheriff Franz Phoenix of Noremway Parish and I demand to know what’s going on here.” There was no immediate response. It was as if they didn’t notice him. “I said I demand to know what is going on here!”
    This got the attention of the “chained” being that looked over in his direction. Its eyes glowed with a brilliant blue light that cut through the black fog. “Who is there?” came a voice inside his mind. It was a sweet voice, yet piercing. It was commanding–the type of voice you had to listen to. “Please, identify yourself. Are you the friar?”
    “ What of it?” Phoenix said. He didn’t want to confirm or deny anything until he knew what this being was.
    It writhed in the chains. “I have been searching for you, Friar. You are the only one who can save the parish! My messages could only get through to you in a discombobulated cycle. Surely the memory of such a scene would dissipate quickly. Mortal memories of my communications are always short-lived. It is part of keeping intact the integrity of the story if I were to inadvertently reveal myself.”
    Phoenix absorbed this speech into his mind and thought, what is this being even talking about? He knew nothing of Decon’s visions, and he knew nothing of story tellers. Even his knowledge of the Darkness was weak, insubstantial. But none of this confusion or ignorance stopped him from seizing control. “Yes, I am the friar, the one you seek. How may I be of service?”
    And suddenly, the three demons grabbed hold of him and thrust him outwards toward the entangled being. He could see it more clearly now than before, and it could see him, and it knew that it had the wrong person. This was not Decon Mangler, Friar of Noremway Parish. This was another man entirely–a man with a black heart, a black soul.
    Darkness enshrouded both of them, wrapping them together in a confining intimacy. What happened next was lost to the oblivion of the dark.

Chapter 6
     
    Early the next morning, Teret put the final touches on her lessons for the day. She was exhausted. When Nora Plague, Bart’s young daughter, entered the schoolroom—just off of the worship hall—Teret’s heart lightened up. Nora was always a pleasure.
    “ Trippin’ today, Sister Finley?” Nora said with a smile. Her big white teeth shone brilliantly in the morning light. Her long hair was the blondest Teret had ever seen.
    “ Trippin’ per my usual duty, Nora,” Teret said and smiled back.
    “ Aw, Sister Teret, why you always gotta be trippin’?” Nora responded, and they both laughed. This was an inside joke that started between Teret and Decon, but then grew to include Plague, and inevitably his daughter. This came from Rita’s statement that Teret must be “trippin.” “Why you always gotta be trippin?” Decon had said after that. Thirteen years it had been…and now the joke was passed down to seven year-old Nora Plague.
    As the rest of the kids marched in single-file, Teret attempted to keep her spirits up. Nora certainly helped, but after the events of the night before, including a night full of bad memories, she had trouble gathering the energy to be happy.
    Nevertheless, she greeted them at the door as if nothing was amiss. As the kids took their seats and opened their textbooks, she began quizzing them about Earth’s history. “Come on, you must know the history of your home, right?” she prodded with fake cheer. Her goal was to appear upbeat no matter how much of an act she had to put on.
    In times immemorial, the sun