by A. Eggleston
The calm, silent, morning was interrupted by the whining sirens of the Springwood police and fire departments rushing towards the house. The harsh, revolving, red and blue lights cut through the natural illumination of the sunrise. As soon as their vehicles stopped in front of the house, firemen and police officers came rushing out. The firemen gathered their equipment, and prepared to completely put out the existing flames.
At the very top of the burning hill, was a small pit of fire. The flames danced unpredictably, crackling as glowing embers swirled beside it. The fire served as a barrier, protecting the object surrounded by the flames. At the very center of the fire, at the very top of the hill, was the Necronomicon. It was the only thing among the crumbled mess that hadn't been affected by the fire. The book was not burned.
It couldn't burn. No matter how long the Book of the Dead was being touched by the fire, not once did it blacken, crumple, or turn into ash. The wretched face of the book simply stared off into the cloudy sky, wrinkled and expressionless as the embers fell upon the cover.
Before, it lay still and motionless. Now, in a rapid motion, the leathery cover of the book opened. Each wrinkled, blood-inked page turned on its own. The pages flipped slowly, one by one. After the third page, the pace quickened and the pages were turning more rapidly, like it was being skimmed by an unseen presence.
Near the end of the book, the pages ceased to turn. The inside of the back cover was now visible, signifying the end. On what should have been the last few pages of the Necronomicon, there were only remnants of pages. That area of the book had the pages ripped from it. Two careless, jagged lines appeared near the back cover. Only small pieces of the top corners of the pages stayed connected to the book. The beginning of a passage was printed on the top of the page. In Kandarian, the introduction read, "RESURRECTION PASSAGE".
The pages flipped back in a rush, and the front cover slammed shut. Amid the echo of the thunderous slam of the book, a voice entered the air. It was carried by the wind. It was like an unsettling whisper next to one's ear, making their heart stop a beat and sending chills down their spine. It was the disembodied voice of Freddy Krueger. "Haaa ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!"
As soon as he entered the portal back to his time, he knew what Ash's plan for him would be. He knew that Ash would follow him and kill him. Before he was burned alive. Before the Dream Demons came for him. Before the nightmares began. Before Nancy, Alice, and all the others whom he had faced in the past. That was why he ripped the pages to the resurrection passage from the book before squaring off with Ash. Even though all of the children he had haunted or killed in the past were not only alive, but didn't know who he was, it didn't matter to him. He would get his revenge.
It was time for a new beginning.
It was time to start all over again.
Ash looked down at his dash, noticing that he still had half a tank of fuel left. He hoped that would be enough to at least take him out of Ohio. He looked back up at the road, carefully watching the other cars passing him by. It was going to be a long ride back to Dearborn.
The glowing, orange sunrise was replaced with a gray and dismal blanket of clouds covering the sky. A small crash of thunder rolled in from the distance.
He kept his wheel turned slightly to the left as he drove down the winding road. His gaze trailed off, taking a second to view his surroundings. For the first time, he was able to appreciate the beauty of the woods as he drove past. The thick, leafy trees were lined by the road, appearing as a green blur as he sped past. A small gust of wind flowed, blowing several brown leaves across the road in an almost beautiful motion.
His yellow Delta 88 Oldsmobile raced down the street, driving past a sign off the side of the road. The sign read, "You are now leaving Springwood."
The road was smooth, making his ride calm and easy. He had been up for over twenty-four hours. He looked in his glove compartment, in his backseat, and in the floor, searching for an energy drink or something caffeinated to keep him awake during the ride home. Maybe after I gas up the Classic, I could check into a motel or something. he considered. Eh, but let's face it, I've seen enough seedy things in the last few days. I guess I'll just nap in the backseat or something. He tried keeping himself awake by turning on the radio, but the only thing he could get was static.
A small patter came from his windshield. It was a small drop of rain. The water streamed up his window before disappearing from view.
His lack of sleep, and the smooth road, plus the soothing sounds of a quiet rain only made Ash a victim of his own senses. He felt his eyelids get heavier, lowing further down until they would shut completely. They fluttered back open as Ash jolted awake. Come on, I gotta stay awake. Just until the next stop.
From deep within the woods, a dark spirit laid dormant. It started as nothing but a quiet moan against the rustling leaves that lie on the dirt. The unseen force was then moving alongside the wind, its voice was becoming deeper and more boisterous the more it traveled.
The presence moved higher off the ground until it was roaming through the trees. Sometimes, it would smoothly dodge the tall trunks, but it often busted through the trees, causing them to split in half and fall to the ground.
The spirit emitted low growl as it roamed through the woods. It was otherworldly, malevolent, and angered. The faster the presence moved, the more powerful its voice became. At it ventured out of the woods, it became louder. Guttural. Almost deafening.
It finally escaped the woods. The dark spirit moved at a quickening pace, passing all cars in front of its path. It glided gracefully as it moved, soaring over the cars and smoothly passing them.
It was then that the spirit's voice morphed into something different. It was as if it was transforming into another voice, something resembling that of a human. It was male. Only traces of the his voice could be heard. It too, was also a voice like no other. It was booming, low, and raspy. His voice echoed, fusing with the low hum of the unseen force.
His voice came in and out of the whirring of the evil presence. When he was audible, the noises that appeared were short breaths. Excited panting. Animalistic growls. All mixed with a maniacal laughter.
"Ha…Ha ha ha ha…"
"Ha ha ha ha ha ha!"
"Haa ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha ha!"
His being melded with the dark force, infusing them together. They were one in the same. He rushed through the few cars that were in his way, and glided faster. The powerful hum only became higher. Louder.
The bumper of Ash's Oldsmobile was now in view. He caught up with it, now a few feet from the back window. He turned, now side by side with the car. He was now moving at a blinding pace, reaching the driver's side in only seconds.
Ash killed him once before. While it was a valiant effort, there are some beings that cannot stay dead. And now, his first victim, as part of his new beginning, was right in his clutches. Ash would know what it feels like to be dragged into a place of unimaginable torture. He would be trapped, never to return. Never to find salvation. There would be only pain and emptiness.
He reached the driver's side window, which was already rolled down. He drove with only his metal hand on the steering wheel. Ash's short, black, hair flowed from the breeze. He looked so...unsuspecting. In one swift motion, he launched himself towards Ash, ready to claim his soul once more.
Ash kept his metal hand on the steering wheel as his left hand came into view. In the blink of an eye, he stuck his Boomstick out of the window and fired a round of shells into his attacker.
BOOM!!!
The exploding release of the bullet had mixed in with the sharp, rising, cry of agony.
True evil may never die, but there will always be someone to fight against it.
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