Read Online Among the Fallen: Resurrection by Ross Shortall, Scott Beadle - Free Book Online
Authors: Ross Shortall, Scott Beadle
Tags: Terror, thriller, Suspense, Science-Fiction, Gothic, Action & Adventure, Horror, Epic, SciFi, Zombie, supernatural, Zombies, Ghosts, Part One, Reincarnation, scary, Resurrection, psychological horror, Splatter horror, splatter, toxic shock publishing, Cannibalism, alexandra beaumont, ross shortall, among the fallen, Demonic Possession, Satanic Stories, Torture horror, B-Movie Horror, scott beadle, Paranormal horror, Macabre
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held against the rules, bound in a prison with an untold purpose, I don’t want to be dead any more, I don’t want to be alive either; I just want to pass on.
What I feel right now though, right this second, it all feels completely different. For ages now, there has been a light, a glowing beautiful light that shines around me. It feels warm, feels pleasant and the memories and visions have stopped, I do not understand, I don’t know what to expect, but my house is gone and the people have vanished. It is all gradually changing, I see colours and I see shapes, no movement or signs of life, but I feel heavy, yet I still float, I don’t understand.
Is this it?
Am I finally passing on to the other side?
The blur around me is starting to focus, objects are becoming clearer and I can make out the daylight above me. Below me is green, it creeps closer to me, as does the blue above me. The light is dimming and traveling away, the world around me turning into something that I have been praying for. I close my eyes, pleading for it to be true, my numbed emotions returning again, my skin suddenly bombarded with a chill. I’m almost too scared to open my eyes, but I do.
What do I see?
I see a graveyard, a cemetery, laden with headstones and flourishing trees that sway in the wind. I see grey tombs that crawl with ivy and moss, flowers growing and arrangements of reminders left by those that haven’t been forgotten. I see stone angels with sad and weeping faces, playful cherubs that mischievously smile at me at me from monuments all around. I see dolls and teddy bears, their fibres blowing in the winds and braving the elements. I see the white sky stretching over the horizon, with blue fighting its way through the clouds, the sun over in the distance, shining bright and blurred in the distance.
I have a body, my body, I can feel the warmth and a random chilly breeze as it blows past me. The hairs on my arms stand up suddenly, my hair waving in the wind behind me. My hands are white, almost glowing in the daylight, my nails are white too, almost perfectly coloured and shaped. I can feel the wet dew soaked grass between my toes, my soles on soft ground and that floating feeling has at last gone.
I walk through the graveyard, taking in the feel of each step, the wind on my skin and the light around me, it feels almost heavenly as I pass through this new and beautiful world. I can feel a warming sensation travel my body from my heart, I feel taken aback by it, overwhelmed by emotion and a happiness I have never felt before. I see a pool of water on a monument, rainwater that has been collected on its surface. I see it quiver as the wind teases it, rippling as I gently put my finger in it, my reflection almost startling me. My skin is white, as are my white painted lips; my hair flows like water and my eyes are a glowing brown, glowing with life and with thoughts that dwell behind them.
Am I a ghost?
Am I an Angel?
Suddenly I turn my head, I feel drawn to a part of the cemetery I am yet to discover. I slowly walk through the light air, my eyes closed as my body feels and appreciates the life around me. I open my eyes and I know where I am, I am in my family plot, where all my ancestors sleep, generations of Beaumont’s before me, all resting in their eternal beds. I walk through the grounds as sculptures of my dead family stare down at me, their stone surfaces crawling with moss and streaked in green. All the men are powerful and stern looking, their eyes gazing down upon me proudly, a powerful and enigmatic bloodline of guardians at both sides. The women are elegant and beautiful, immortalized in cold stone; they stand proudly at their partners sides as their vows are carried into the afterlife with them.
Suddenly, I see a crowd, gathered at the far end, all dressed in black, crying into tissues but frozen in time, as still as the monuments that surround them. I approach the funeral briskly, aching to see who it is they
What I feel right now though, right this second, it all feels completely different. For ages now, there has been a light, a glowing beautiful light that shines around me. It feels warm, feels pleasant and the memories and visions have stopped, I do not understand, I don’t know what to expect, but my house is gone and the people have vanished. It is all gradually changing, I see colours and I see shapes, no movement or signs of life, but I feel heavy, yet I still float, I don’t understand.
Is this it?
Am I finally passing on to the other side?
The blur around me is starting to focus, objects are becoming clearer and I can make out the daylight above me. Below me is green, it creeps closer to me, as does the blue above me. The light is dimming and traveling away, the world around me turning into something that I have been praying for. I close my eyes, pleading for it to be true, my numbed emotions returning again, my skin suddenly bombarded with a chill. I’m almost too scared to open my eyes, but I do.
What do I see?
I see a graveyard, a cemetery, laden with headstones and flourishing trees that sway in the wind. I see grey tombs that crawl with ivy and moss, flowers growing and arrangements of reminders left by those that haven’t been forgotten. I see stone angels with sad and weeping faces, playful cherubs that mischievously smile at me at me from monuments all around. I see dolls and teddy bears, their fibres blowing in the winds and braving the elements. I see the white sky stretching over the horizon, with blue fighting its way through the clouds, the sun over in the distance, shining bright and blurred in the distance.
I have a body, my body, I can feel the warmth and a random chilly breeze as it blows past me. The hairs on my arms stand up suddenly, my hair waving in the wind behind me. My hands are white, almost glowing in the daylight, my nails are white too, almost perfectly coloured and shaped. I can feel the wet dew soaked grass between my toes, my soles on soft ground and that floating feeling has at last gone.
I walk through the graveyard, taking in the feel of each step, the wind on my skin and the light around me, it feels almost heavenly as I pass through this new and beautiful world. I can feel a warming sensation travel my body from my heart, I feel taken aback by it, overwhelmed by emotion and a happiness I have never felt before. I see a pool of water on a monument, rainwater that has been collected on its surface. I see it quiver as the wind teases it, rippling as I gently put my finger in it, my reflection almost startling me. My skin is white, as are my white painted lips; my hair flows like water and my eyes are a glowing brown, glowing with life and with thoughts that dwell behind them.
Am I a ghost?
Am I an Angel?
Suddenly I turn my head, I feel drawn to a part of the cemetery I am yet to discover. I slowly walk through the light air, my eyes closed as my body feels and appreciates the life around me. I open my eyes and I know where I am, I am in my family plot, where all my ancestors sleep, generations of Beaumont’s before me, all resting in their eternal beds. I walk through the grounds as sculptures of my dead family stare down at me, their stone surfaces crawling with moss and streaked in green. All the men are powerful and stern looking, their eyes gazing down upon me proudly, a powerful and enigmatic bloodline of guardians at both sides. The women are elegant and beautiful, immortalized in cold stone; they stand proudly at their partners sides as their vows are carried into the afterlife with them.
Suddenly, I see a crowd, gathered at the far end, all dressed in black, crying into tissues but frozen in time, as still as the monuments that surround them. I approach the funeral briskly, aching to see who it is they
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