The Day of Legion Read Online Free Page A

together all the time. They may not meet like we did, but you know I’m reliable and pay my debts. It seems to me you could do with some company.”
    “How do you know about me?” John asked. “You know about my family, my friends, my finances, and just about everything else in my life as well. Are you some sort of stalker?”
    “No. See me as a guardian angel if you like. You know, ‘Do unto others as you’d have them do unto you.’”
    John didn’t return the smile. “Don’t get me started on the Bible, Christopher. God left me a while ago, and took a huge part of me with him. I’m not interested anymore. You are right, though, about my friends and family, and my money situation. I guess I’ll stay here for now and see how it goes.”
    Christopher held out his hand. John shook it wearily.
    “Welcome to the beginning, or the end,” Christopher said.
    “Stop talking in riddles,” John replied.
    He was tired, despite all his sleep over the last few days in the hospital. He took a shower and went directly to bed. He slept restlessly for about an hour before deciding he was hungry. He went to the kitchen and opened the refrigerator door. On the middle shelf was a plate covered in plastic wrap. Through the plastic, John could see a freshly-made salad and some chicken. Next to that was a bottle of water with a note. He thought it would read, ‘Don’t touch – Property of Christopher!”
    “Here we go, I knew it, one of those people who start out seeming normal, then little things happen like notes on food, locked cupboards and strange smells from the bedroom.”
    He opened the note and was surprised. A little fresh, healthy food for you for when you wake up restless – C.
    He shook his head. This guy was a real oddball, he thought. He looked around the house for Christopher, but he was nowhere to be found. John ate the chicken and salad, drank the mineral water and went back to bed. It didn’t take him long to fall asleep again, but again it was a restless and light slumber.
    He dreamed. Not dreams he wanted or hoped for, but dark dreams, memories and fiction rolled into uncomfortable, hot pantomimes in his head. He rolled back and forth in the bed, sweat dripping from his body, saturating his sheets, muttering in his sleep.
    In his dream he was trying to shout, but his jaw was locked and would hardly move. His legs were solid as rock and refused to budge. He knew he had to run from something, but couldn’t see what. He could sense the darkness all around him, hear voices; some he thought he knew, but not most.
    Intermittent screams emanated from the gloom, as though there were others suffering along side of him. He struggled and tried to shout, but the darkness got thicker and started to get in his lungs, eyes and ears. It was thick and sick and smoky. A thunderous rumbling sound boomed off in the distance. It sounded like a million horses’ hooves pounding on concrete, advancing toward him. Whatever it was, it was wicked and angry, and it wanted him. The screams and cries got louder and louder until it blended with the evil rumbling, reaching a vile crescendo.
    Just as he thought he’d be trampled by whatever was threatening to pound over him, it and everything else—including the screams and cries of the others—stopped. The darkness faded and suddenly light shone in the distance. It was a cool, comfortable light which generated a peaceful calm outwards. There was nothing evil about it and he realized it was the complete opposite of the darkness.
    He relaxed, and discovered he could move and his mouth worked again. He saw someone in the light coming toward him. It was in the shape of a man. He felt no fear or dread, and couldn’t sense anyone else around him as he had in the darkness.
    It was Christopher. John knew he was dreaming, but was still glad. Christopher smiled at him, and stopped a few feet away. “We need to act quickly before the darkness comes back.”
    “What was the darkness? Where