Blessed

Blessed

Copyright © 2013 by David Michael Hamilton

All rights reserved

No part of this book may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without written permission from the publisher, except for the inclusion of brief quotations in critical review and certain other noncommercial uses permitted by copyright law. Printed in the United States of America.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or locales is entirely coincidental.

Cover Art & Design Copyright Louisa Maggio

All cover images remain the property of David Michael.

Interior Book Design:
Cris Soriaga | BookMarked! Designs

Dedication

Acknowledgements

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Epilogue

About the Author

For Lynne

Your light will shine through any darkness

This has proven to be the hardest part of the entire book. There are
so
many people that are now proud owners of a piece of my soul that I really don’t know that I can thank them all individually. For those of you who may be left out, just remember: I loved you enough to sell you a part of my soul.

First and foremost, a heap of gratitude goes out to my grandmother, Lynne. Without her, this book would not be possible. Without her words of encouragement, editing would have been the death of me and for that, I owe her my indefinite thanks.

Next on the list is my hero and source of inspiration, author Mark David Gerson. The endless fountain of advice and his responses to my text messages at ungodly hours have had more impact on me than I can ever express. This young whipper snapper thanks you from the bottom of his heart.

Last but certainly not least, I
have
to express my love for my International League of Extraordinary Authors: Simone Nicole, Lola Stark, Belle Aurora and Patrick Darcy. These four ladies (that’s right Paddy) from the deepest darkest depths of internet friendship have literally saved my life during the last few weeks of polishing this novel and getting it ready for you. If you love this book as much as I do, look these guys up and send them flowers and chocolates. They. Are. Amazing.

As the darkness shifted and the black slid across and through the empty space, the night seemed to give birth. A horrible sound somewhere between the screech of metal on metal and cracking bone let loose from within the bowels of the Universe.

Charged with one purpose, the energy that was released set out to find the trail that would lead him to the completion of his task: Complete Chaos.

He could feel it burning through his veins like magma, propelling him toward his destination. He willed himself through space and time with the power of thought for fuel and the Chaos in his body as his compass.

As his presence was recognized by the laws of nature that he would soon be forced to deal with, shadows pooled in the center of the small clearing. Broad daylight gave way to a haze of smoke that thickened the air and drove even the smallest of creatures into hiding. Tendrils of the dark matter thickened and streamed toward a central location, causing the air to rumble as his physical body began to take shape.

The world shimmered and wavered a moment through the mass of energy surrounding him before solidifying and coming into focus. The trees and the grass drooped in recognition of what was inside of him and even the air seemed to shrink away from him. The earth itself shuddered below his bare feet as they gently touched down. The energy that was released as he connected to the physical plane rolled through the meadow and into the sky like thunder.

He stretched his new form, testing the functions of the physical body he’d assumed. Everything seemed to work well enough to suit his needs. He closed his eyes and drew forth the black sledge that coursed through his being. He allowed the tentacles to slither forth from his aura and probe the forest around him. Feeling. Penetrating. Absorbing.

The creature closed his eyes and pieced together the information that he was receiving. The energy snaking out into the unknown acted like antennae and relayed to him what his eyes couldn’t. The animals close enough to sense him fled even further into the woods, their instincts telling them what he was capable of. The energy of everything his tendrils came into contact with was quickly sapped and transferred into him, leaving behind a black ashy substance where, moments before, a heavily wooded hillside had stood. The circle of death that was slowly expanding around him was certainly needed, but unwanted. As an assassin of sorts, he needed to leave the smallest fingerprint possible. Detection was a bad thing in his business.

He opened his eyes once more and willed the Chaos to return to his body. The cool winter air had already begun blowing the ashen remains into small drifts.

He smiled to himself. Everything seemed to be working fine indeed.

Letting his blood guide him, he headed north and entered a stand of trees that had escaped his destructive scouting mission. Each leaf shivered as he passed. Blades of grass lie down of their own accord a good three paces ahead of him. The trees themselves tried to do the same with less success. The creaking and groaning was enough to prove that they were trying. The small amount of success that they managed was evidenced by the larger trees cracking and falling to the ground, separated from their roots and sentenced to death.

He spotted a break in the trees and picked up his pace, the novelty of nature itself fearing him having worn off quickly, only to be replaced by determination. As he broke through the wall of bark and foliage, he closed his eyes again and released a single tendril that shot out into the world before him. Careful not to let it touch anything, he searched for human life.

The first image that came back to him was a man in a black suit, black loafers, a white button up shirt and a blue tie.

It was perfect.

Pulling the tentacle back into himself he willed a similar suit similar to form over his naked body. He added small gray pinstripes to the design for personal taste and adjusted his tie.

Not that he needed clothes, but it did make him less noticeable when moving around among the natives. He had learned this the hard way in previous incarnations. The finesse that he had developed since then would keep him from inspiring any folklore this time around. Unfortunately.

While he wouldn’t call this trip a vacation per se, he intended to have as much fun as his mission allowed. He could hardly pass up the chance to leave a little bit of himself behind while he could. It wasn’t every day that he was let out of his proverbial cage.

He cautiously approached the town where he had sensed the man, not wanting to alarm any guards that may have been on the lookout for threats—Threats that he, by nature, was happy to pose.

He took in his surroundings with an appraising eye. Mankind certainly had come a long way since his last visit. Not only were the clothes made of better, more aesthetically pleasing materials, but the buildings were far sturdier than the mud huts, wood houses and adobe shelters that he had encountered during his previous visits to the physical plane.