Disclaimer: This story is an original work of amateur fiction and is
written purely for the private entertainment of PTL fans. This story is no
way affiliated with Trilogy, MGM Worldwide Television or the Sci-Fi
Channel. The characters are their property and this story is not meant to
infringe upon the copyrights of MGM, Trilogy or any other organization that
owns an interest in "Poltergeist; the Legacy" (tm)
Author's note: This was posted before, but with many grammar mistakes, as one of my last reviewers pointed out. When I wrote this story, I didn't have a spellchecker or Beta-reader. Not to mention the fact I was just starting to write in English. I have the time now to write it properly and repost it.
*************************************************************
ENIGMA
The group followers were standing in a circle, wearing robes. Their features were hidden, tucked safely away in the shadow of their hoods. They were chanting ancient words, the meaning of it forgotten, only the purpose important.
Their leader watched from his place in the middle, listening to the holy words his servants murmured. His face was hidden too, but if there was light in the dark cave, his followers would see his smile, an evil one, displayed on a face filled with the look of pure anger, pure hatred.
Soon they would know who the promised one was. Soon they would get him, kill him, torture him. And then his master would arise. Satan would rule the world again.
*****************************************
Nick sighed, getting bored sitting behind the computer. He felt restless, in need of some sort of exercise. He wanted some action! But looking at the pile of files on his desk, that was not going to happen any time soon. He scratched his hand absently, feeling an itch arise. His other hand started too, and he looked at them. Little tiny dots appeared on the back of his hands. He grunted, for he had them before when he was little. Some allergic reaction. He kept scratching them, while looking at his computer screen. The itch turned into stinging and his fingers touched wet skin. The file on the table got more and more red coloured drips, like bloodstained tears. Nick looked at his hands, shocked at what he was seeing there.
The skin showed a large wound, spreading to the other side of his hands. Blood started flowing faster as the wound went deeper and deeper, cutting through muscle and bone. The pain radiating from it was almost paralyzing. He stood up, afraid of what was happening. His feet started itching too, immediately turning into pain. Something was soaking his socks, and Nick knew without looking, it was his own blood, flowing freely into his shoes.
He was starting to feel dizzy and sick, knowing it was from shock. He had to find the others, before he lost consciousness. Nick stumbled through the force field, the invisible opening shimmering. He made it downstairs, before collapsing, finally giving in to the pain.
Alex stopped dead in her tracks, her eyes growing big in horror as she saw the trail of blood coming from the control room. Slowly she entered, afraid of what scene might greet her, but the room is empty. Still, the things she registers, makes her wanting to scream, as she sees the small puddle of blood at Nicks terminal. She follows the trail, with a nervous feeling in her stomach, praying he's alright. That it's not his blood covering the wooden floor of the Legacy house.
Her worst fear comes true as she finds him downstairs, still awake but clearly in shock. What frightened her even more were the wounds on his hands and the little puncture wounds on his forehead. Nasty scratches, caused by something like thorns.
"Derek," She screams, knowing he can hear her, for he's in the living room. Derek came running to the hall immediately, having heard the urgency and panic in Alex's voice. A Look of worry and fear crossed his face when he saw Nicks condition. The word "Stigmata" passes his lips while crouching down next to his young colleague.
"We have to get him to a hospital, he's loosing a lot of blood," Alex mentioned to him.
Derek shook his head.
"No, the press will jump to the chance of a story like this. I have a friend with a private clinic, we're going to him. I don't want anybody to know about this."
Author's note: This was posted before, but with many grammar mistakes, as one of my last reviewers pointed out. When I wrote this story, I didn't have a spellchecker or Beta-reader. Not to mention the fact I was just starting to write in English. I have the time now to write it properly and repost it.
*************************************************************
ENIGMA
The group followers were standing in a circle, wearing robes. Their features were hidden, tucked safely away in the shadow of their hoods. They were chanting ancient words, the meaning of it forgotten, only the purpose important.
Their leader watched from his place in the middle, listening to the holy words his servants murmured. His face was hidden too, but if there was light in the dark cave, his followers would see his smile, an evil one, displayed on a face filled with the look of pure anger, pure hatred.
Soon they would know who the promised one was. Soon they would get him, kill him, torture him. And then his master would arise. Satan would rule the world again.
*****************************************
Nick sighed, getting bored sitting behind the computer. He felt restless, in need of some sort of exercise. He wanted some action! But looking at the pile of files on his desk, that was not going to happen any time soon. He scratched his hand absently, feeling an itch arise. His other hand started too, and he looked at them. Little tiny dots appeared on the back of his hands. He grunted, for he had them before when he was little. Some allergic reaction. He kept scratching them, while looking at his computer screen. The itch turned into stinging and his fingers touched wet skin. The file on the table got more and more red coloured drips, like bloodstained tears. Nick looked at his hands, shocked at what he was seeing there.
The skin showed a large wound, spreading to the other side of his hands. Blood started flowing faster as the wound went deeper and deeper, cutting through muscle and bone. The pain radiating from it was almost paralyzing. He stood up, afraid of what was happening. His feet started itching too, immediately turning into pain. Something was soaking his socks, and Nick knew without looking, it was his own blood, flowing freely into his shoes.
He was starting to feel dizzy and sick, knowing it was from shock. He had to find the others, before he lost consciousness. Nick stumbled through the force field, the invisible opening shimmering. He made it downstairs, before collapsing, finally giving in to the pain.
Alex stopped dead in her tracks, her eyes growing big in horror as she saw the trail of blood coming from the control room. Slowly she entered, afraid of what scene might greet her, but the room is empty. Still, the things she registers, makes her wanting to scream, as she sees the small puddle of blood at Nicks terminal. She follows the trail, with a nervous feeling in her stomach, praying he's alright. That it's not his blood covering the wooden floor of the Legacy house.
Her worst fear comes true as she finds him downstairs, still awake but clearly in shock. What frightened her even more were the wounds on his hands and the little puncture wounds on his forehead. Nasty scratches, caused by something like thorns.
"Derek," She screams, knowing he can hear her, for he's in the living room. Derek came running to the hall immediately, having heard the urgency and panic in Alex's voice. A Look of worry and fear crossed his face when he saw Nicks condition. The word "Stigmata" passes his lips while crouching down next to his young colleague.
"We have to get him to a hospital, he's loosing a lot of blood," Alex mentioned to him.
Derek shook his head.
"No, the press will jump to the chance of a story like this. I have a friend with a private clinic, we're going to him. I don't want anybody to know about this."