I made it back to town hungry and stopped at Colombo’s for a bite. After smashing a cheeseburger and fries, I took a short walk down Main Street, book bag in hand. I sat on the bench which was in front of the large clock on the bank at corner to relax and read the book I found.
I took The Hidden Doctrine from my book bag. “M. Hall” was written with a blue pen on the inside of the cover. The book belonged to Manuel Hall, Elise’s husband. It was about strange places like Stonehenge, the Bermuda Triangle, the Egyptian Pyramids, and the Aztec monuments.
The writer claimed that earthly energy fields were common knowledge to the Native Americans and ancient peoples from almost every culture in the world. These energy fields were also known as “energy vortexes” or “earth chakras”. He specifically mentioned vortexes in Montana and Oregon and other places on earth.
The book claimed everything in the universe was connected to each other through vibrational frequency. The author conveyed that thought, mind, and spirituality can flow through various dimensions and that they were inter-woven into the fabric of existence. He or she went on to say that it was possible to open portals to and from dimensions and even in time itself. The author noted that portals were much easier to create if a ritual was conducted on a scared energy spot.
The author mentioned spirits, and other supernatural entities such as angels, demons, and ancient outer gods who can be summoned through dimensional portals which he called Hidden Doctrine. There were instructions on how to do rituals with accompanying diagrams.
My mobile vibrated in my pocket and I stopped reading. I looked at the face of the phone, it read caller unknown. I answered it anyway, whoever it was hung up. I assumed a wrong number.
The sun began to set, and it was harder to read in the dark, so I put the book in the bag. The air was crisp and felt good. I sat, my arms stretched along the back edge of the bench and gave my head a rest until night finally fell. Ravensgate had a different feel at night, not many people were around. I walked back to my car at Colombo’s. Blackstone’s Bar and Grill was still open. As I walked by, through the door I saw patrons having a game of pool.
My car was still in the restaurant’s parking lot at the end of the block. The streetlamps were not working down there, and it was dark. The outline of a tall figure stood directly in my path about block down on the sidewalk. The shape was solid black in the darkness. It didn’t move but looked like a man. My pace slowed as I studied the figure and my surroundings, my situational awareness training kicking in. After a few more steps I noticed the greasy hair.
“I warned you, outlander,” said the groundskeeper. It seemed he found me first.
The sound of a loud snap came from above followed by an echoing thwip. After the reverberation of noisy crackles, I quickly looked up. Swinging directly toward me was an electrical line that had snapped free from the top of a telephone pole.
I leaped out of the way and landed on my side on the sidewalk, dropping the book bag. The downed wire landed on the ground next to me flipping around like a fish out of water, sparks flying everywhere.
I rolled back on the cement away from the violent sparks of electricity and looked up in the direction of the groundskeeper on the sidewalk, he vanished. A man and a woman from across the street ran to me, side stepping the danger of the charged line.
“It just missed you!” Are you alright?” the man said.
“I’m fine…and extremely lucky,” I said dusting myself off.
“If you hadn’t dodged that line you’d have been fried,” The woman said. “You didn’t happen to see the man that was standing on the sidewalk a few yards down that way?” I asked pointing down the block as I got up from the ground.
“There was nobody there,” The woman said. “You were the only person on the block.”
“Are you sure you’re ok?” the man said.
“Yeah guys, I’ll be alright. Thanks.”
I picked up the book bag up from the sidewalk and made it back to the car. Logically, I couldn’t prove the groundskeeper caused the downed wire, but I knew it he did it, somehow. This is war.
I wasn’t about to spend the night in the house after the events of the previous night but stopped by the Victorian to pick up clothes and other things to take to the Lamplighter Inn, which was in east Ravensgate, the poor side of town. Before I left, I checked the basement door in the hall, it was still locked the way I left it. I then ran upstairs and packed a gym bag with clothes, toiletries, and my glock.
I was in danger. What if I was killed or came up missing like Sandy? Who would come looking for me? I needed to tell someone why I moved into the old house, so I made a quick call to, Greg, the manger I put in charge while I was away. Gave him a heads up about where I was and if I needed backup, we’d have a team ready.
I left the black book bag on the white wicker chair in the sanctuary, so I went in there to get it. Before I walked out, I noticed that the bust on the table next to the empty fish tank had been moved. The bust was now facing the grandfather clock which was to the left of the table.
I picked up the bust and faced it toward the center of the room like it was before. There was something different about it. On the chest of the sculpture, right beneath the clavicles, was the word “DOOR” scratched into the white stone.