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Help Me Pass The Night

by William Taylor

Help Me Pass The Night

Energy mind, please take me to a soul who needs my help tonight. 

Sitting in front of a fire at the top of a hill on a freezing cold night. The wind is causing the flames to lash around viciously. It is going to be a long, cold and hard night. 

I looked over my shoulder and could see the hill running down to the dark black sea, the waves were lashing against the shoreline menacingly; this was not a night one would wish to spend alone on the look out call.

I was too old to have any fears left, I had done this too many times before, all of my bodies were completely desensitized to any form of pain. I just sat here and traced the flames dancing around the fire.

Old spirits lived in these lands, many old bitter and twisted spirits. We had had the turf spoilt by the terrors of war for as far back as the minds eye could see. There were pain stenciled into the trees and plants which grow from the land, even the rocks were tainted with dark emotions, suffering, pain and terror.

I stoked the fire and beckoned that someone would come forth to help me pass the night.

She appeared, an apparition sailing across the hill, her nighty torn around her pale skin, parts of her flesh were poking through. I drew her closer with my mind, beckoning her to the fire, to receive some warmth and gentleness from the healing spirits of the age.

On this night I had brought with me three ancient alcoholic whiskys from times long before I walked this earth. They had properties which would release the weights which burden peoples hearts and minds, only to be taken once, at the right time.

I slowly created a mixture for her, mixing this heady brew, a rich aroma of dark wood, sodden forests stretched out from the glass and I lifted it to her lips. The strength of the concoction caused her to grimace in fright yet she knew what she had to do, swallowing the entire contents in one almighty gulp.

It was like a storm of fire was unleashed from her belly, flames which destroyed all objects which were not there by design.

I watched her body fall into ashes around her, dark ashes, fit for no life, but as twilight came upon us, a beautiful bird arose from the ashes, flying high up into the sky.

Another spirit has been released for its souls flight tonight.

  by William Taylor   

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