The Warriors of Light
Synopsis
As long as God's light has existed, so has the darkness and, thus, creatures of the darkness—ancient beings nearly as old as the devil himself. God, however, in all of His mysterious wisdom, has a plan. A plan that may yet bring enlightenment to one man and salvation to others. Unfortunately, not all participants in His plan are willing, and being volun-TOLD to do anything is where Ray Segal draws the line. Ray has his own plans, and they don't involve a mythical sky daddy, a shady priest, or a beady-eyed "book collector." But after burying the one person in the world who always had his back, Ray must open his mind and his eyes to new possibilities and find a way to deal with the harsh reality of his brother's passing. But to do so means going deep within the bane of his childhood existence: the church. Will he find the answers he seeks? And if he does, can he bear the burden of that knowledge?
The Warriors of Light Free Chapters
Chapter 1 | The Warriors of Light
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The hustle and bustle of the bar didn't render my bad mood. Staring down at the empty glass, I tapped my finger and then my leg impatiently. The television sounded loud, even through the noises the bar visitors made. I heard it all. The news report about Brad Segal being mauled by some wild animal in an alley—the shit didn't sit right with me. Nothing about the story made sense. An animal? They wouldn't allow me to see the body. His wife said it was even too much for her to handle to just identify him. I definitely don't know how she did it.
"It's a damn shame what happened to him, Ray." The bartender said, taking me out of my daze. "Your brother was a good man." I only nodded, shaking the glass in my hands to gesture to it being empty. He sighed as he poured the contents of the clear liquid back into my glass. With one gulp, it was gone again. "You really believe what the news is saying?” He waited for me to answer, but I didn't. "You really think it's some kind of animal out there?”
I scoffed while massaging my head. "My brother was murdered, Charles. No ifs, ands, or buts about it. The fucking news don't know shit about what's going on." I argued trying to keep my anger at bay, but it spilled over. "Just turn that shit off." It worked. The silence of the TV now caused me to close my eyes at the pounding in my head and the emptiness in my heart. Brad and I were really close, even though we were opposites.
He settled down, started a family. I, on the other hand, was with a different woman every chance I got. My job made it easy for me to meet a lot of sexy ladies. There was no way I was going to turn them down by settling with one of them. Brad was religious, went to church every time the doors opened, not just on Sundays. If there was a sin, he had to confess it. I thought him to be a fool for believing in such nonsense. Everyone knows the dark rumors surrounding the catholic churches, but nevertheless, Brad never judged me, so how dare I judge him.
It was what made him so great. He never judged others, only himself. Thinking of how great he was made me realize how much of a shitty human being I was. His family was mourning. My nieces counted on me, needed me. But here I was drinking my life away at the same bar I visited almost every Friday night. This time, my heart was just heavy and I needed anything to take my mind off the fact my dear brother was now gone.
"It's still a damn shame. Let me know if there is anything I can do for you,” Charles offered. I only nodded, holding my glass out, again.
"Just keep 'em coming Charles." This time he didn't argue. The sad look on my face must've convinced him I needed a little extra tonight. After I lost count of the shots and I could barely walk, I stumbled out of the bar with Charles calling after me, but I didn't stop. The night air was much needed as I looked into the sky, feeling the droplets of rain. Just my luck.
My feet lead the way as I continued to stumble into the night air. Before I realized it, I was on the steps of the very church Brad attended. My anger, most likely, was driving me to confront anyone responsible for his murder. I staggered, falling over as I burst into the doors. No one was there. No one I could see, anyway, in my drunken stupor. Taking a cautious step forward, I grabbed on to anything I could. The pews in front of me led the way to the altar.
Once I was out of leverage, I fell on my knees right before the Jesus statue, turning my head to see Brad doing the same thing. It brought me comfort and anguish all at once. "Why didn't you just go home? How could you leave me?” I cried. In my drunken state, I was in no condition to hold in what I truly felt… pain. I sobbed the kind of cry that left you breathless and empty.
"I'm sorry? Child of God are you talking to me?”
I looked up to see the priest, not as old as I thought he should look. He bent down and placed his hand on my back to comfort me, but I sat up aggressively nearly toppling backward. "Don't touch me!”
The priest stood up with a pout of disappointment on his face. "You must be Ray Segal."
"How the fuck do you know me?”
"Mind your words, boy, in the house of God." The priest snapped, face now turning serious as I scoffed with a smirk that didn't reach my eyes.
"Where was this God, or you, when Brad was getting murdered? Why weren't you there to protect him?” I pointed to the priest, taking several steps forward as he seemed saddened by my words, as if I struck a nerve.
"What happened to Brother Segal is truly terrible. The entire mass felt the loss when I told them the news. I, too, am greatly saddened by his ascension. But I have comfort in knowing he is with the Father. It may take some non-believers, like yourself, more time to accept this to be true, but Brother Brad is in a much better place."
I shook my head. "Tell that to his two little girls who are wondering where their father is. Don't pretend to know what I am going through…”
The priest took another step closer to me and this time I was paralyzed with the death glare in his eyes. My body refused to move and the only thing I could do was act tough. It was cooler than shitting my pants, which was sure to happen if he took another step to me. "Brad used to pray for your soul more than anyone, Ray. I could tell he loved you dearly and I see the love you have for him that you don't know how to express. Just try to remember, Ray, you do not want to go down this path of vengeance. You won't like where it will lead you."
“He has the same percentage that Brother Brad has." A voice said as I turned my head to see who spoke. I could only look horrified as the priest, finally, took a step back releasing me from whatever hold he had on me. I fell back hard with a thud.
"Who said that?” I asked in a panic.
The priest didn't even seem too worried. "He has the potential, but he is a non-believer. This could go very wrong." I looked even more confused as to what they were talking about. "Ray is just grieving, as we all are, for his loss. He just needs to forget." I opened my mouth to protest, but the priest stepped forward to me, again, and placed his thumb on my forehead before I could open my mouth to say anything. My eyes rolled to the back of my head and everything went black.
Chapter 2 | The Warriors of Light
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The brightness of the sun shone throughout my apartment which caused me to sit up fast, panting, and confused. My head felt as if a train had just run me over multiple times. It forced me to lay back down while I groaned. I admitted to myself I've gotten drunk plenty of times before. I know my limit, but this headache was beyond anything I ever encountered as far as a hangover goes. Flashes of the priest pressing his grimy thumb on my forehead caused me to groan even more as I held my head tightly, pulling the cover over my face to block out the sun.
"How the hell did I get back in my bed?” "What the fuck did that priest do to me?” Several of these questions ran through my throbbing temple, but I quickly had to stop thinking. It hurt way too much. I even started to feel nauseous from the pain, but getting up wasn't even an option. I couldn't even move to hurl over the side of the bed.
Bang! Bang! Bang! When I was just almost back to a normal human being, someone started pounding at the door, very aggressively. I cursed out loud forcing whatever body strength I had left off the bed. I wasn't a well-built man. I worked out, had a few abs, nothing to write home about. But, at that moment, I did thank the heavens I had enough strength to lift myself out of the bed to the door. The clothes from last night still clung to my body as if they were weights, pulling me down. My studio apartment was wide enough that I had to take several steps, trying to maintain my balance as I did so.
Once I got to the door, I thrust it open to reveal a police officer. My eyes widen before they go into a squint again from the pain. The other man beside him looked to be the chief inspector on the case for my brother. It took several moments before I could talk to him.
"Ray Segal?”
"Yeah…” I placed my hand over my face.
"I'm Chief Inspector Travis and this is Officer Lawson, may we come in to ask you a couple of questions?” I took a step back and invited them in. My studio was incredibly messy. I could tell by the way the officers looked around that they were secretly disgusted with me. If only I could keep my eyes open enough to see what they wanted. "We won't take up much of your time. We called Mallory to inform you we were coming today. Did you not get the call?”
I took a grateful seat at the island, running a shaky hand through my untamed hair looking up at the detective. "Sorry, I didn't get the memo."
"Clearly…,” Officer Lawson muttered.
"What is this about? Anything worth knowing, Mallory would know." I objected, still straining to open my eyes. Travis pulled a file out of a briefcase. It had several photos in it. One he pulled out and up to me.
"Do you know this man?”
I looked carefully at the photo, struggling to ignore the pounding in my temple. Nothing seemed to stand out much. So, I shook my head, "Who is he?”
"Johnny Stan. There was evidence of some kind of a scuffle at the scene where your brother was attacked. Mallory was right to not believe it was an animal." I scoffed in response as he continued. "Do you know what connects Johnny to your brother? Have they met before or known each other from anywhere?”
"The guy doesn't look familiar at all. If Mallory can't identify him, then he probably was a nobody." I replied, honestly.
"Were you and your brother close, Mr. Segal?”
That made me look up at Officer Lawson with malice. That underlying tone in his voice was the last thing I needed to hear. I already knew what they were getting at. "You think I killed my own brother or hired someone to do it?” They didn't respond to me right away. Their silence told me everything I needed to know. Honestly, I couldn't do anything else but laugh. "I knew from the start my brother wasn't killed by a fucking animal. I love my brother. Just because I wasn't involved in his life, doesn't mean I wanted him dead. Did Mallory tell you I did?” I leaned a little closer to read the looks on their faces for the answer.
"That's not of question here, Mr. Segal. We just want to cover all our bases. Whatever happened to Brad, we want to get to the bottom of it we assure you."
"Yeah, right. The same way you guys were just so certain it was an animal before you pigs investigated. It took Mallory giving you all her life savings to find out what happened to her husband. Otherwise, my brother was attacked by a fucking Chihuahua, let the news tell it." I laughed, but my laughter held no humor. "Get the fuck out of my house." I stood walking towards the door opening it to let them know I was serious. They glanced at each other before making the proper moves to leave my studio. The door slammed right behind them.
I walked to the bed searching for my phone. It was dead as I sighed putting it on the charger. I sat on the bed as my body just sort of tumbled over until I stared up at the ceiling. I was finally coming back to feeling like myself after maybe 30 minutes of not moving. Johnny Stan was stuck in my head. His face, the picture, everything about him started to bug me. My grief was certainly getting the better of me as I grabbed my laptop searching on any platform for this man.
While deep in search, I found that Johnny Stan was a member at the same church as Brad. Everything led me back to that place. I had to go back, with pictures this time, and make them answer me. My phone started to come to life with messages and dinks and vibrations as I reached for it. Several missed calls from Mallory, several from my nieces' phone number—most likely still Mallory—and a couple from Hazel, my client I was supposed to meet two hours ago for her photoshoot.
Honestly, as much as I loved Hazel's photoshoots, because they always ended with me getting a blowjob from out of space, finding out what happened to my brother was far more important. Determinedly, I showered and ate what I could before leaving the house to go back to the church.