The Body Departed: A Paranormal Mystery (The Rain Collective Book 1) by J.R. Rain

Author:J.R. Rain [Rain, J.R.]
Language: eng
Format: azw3
Publisher: Rain Press
Published: 2020-11-30T00:00:00+00:00

***

The shadow was, in fact, three shadows. They appeared vaguely humanoid, with three sets of reddish eyes and many spider-like limbs. They also appeared to be moving as one, with calculated, coordinated movements. Perhaps I should have been scared. Perhaps I should have fled the nave in terror.

But I didn’t. What could they do? Kill me again?

With Jacob still high in the rafters, lost in his scattered thoughts, the three shadows continued creeping sideways along the wall. Their glowing eyes, I was certain, were trained on me. Whoever—or whatever—they were, I seemed to have their undivided attention.

Lucky me.

As they got closer, scuttling unusually along the wall like some great black insect, I was able to reach out and dip into their minds and sense who—or what—they were.

I immediately sensed great confusion and loss and fear and pain. So much pain. And flashing, distorted, murky, incomprehensible memories. Human memories.

They were human. Or were human.

What they were now, I did not know. Shadows of their former selves. Memories of their former selves, reduced now to nonsensical creatures who were completely out of their minds, having lost all memory of who they were or why they were even in the church…

No, that isn’t right.

I did sense a purpose. A single, undivided purpose that seemed somehow woven throughout their mostly fragmented memories. I looked up at the painting on the wall in front of me. The purpose had something to do with it—but what that purpose was, I did not know.

The entities crept closer.

They seemed two-dimensional, as if there were no essence to them, no depth. True shadows. Shades. They continued along the wall to my left, crawling just beneath the stained-glass windows. The bright moonlight seemed lost on them, swallowed by them.

Living black holes.

This will be you someday, I suddenly thought. Losing your mind, your memory, the very essence of who you are. Forever.

With that pleasant thought in mind, the three entities, which had worked their way along the wall directly across from me, now stopped. They seemed to be communicating with one another. Shortly, they came to some sort of an agreement, and as they did so, something unexpected happened.

Like rotting wallpaper, they peeled away from the wall and then slowly drifted out over the pews.

A demon kite, I thought, looking up at the specters drifting over me like a Macy’s Thanksgiving Day Parade float from hell.

Now closer, I was able to dip deeper into their lost minds. And what I found there were many distorted, disturbing, chaotic images: flashes of gunfire, swirling monks’ robes, the sneering of cruel thieves, unimaginable torture. Again, all centered on the massive oil painting hanging on the far wall.

“Indeed, James,” said a female voice suddenly to my right, startling me. “They guard the painting. And they do so quite well, don’t you think?”

I had been so caught up watching the steady approach of the three entities that I had completely missed the woman who had materialized onstage. She was, of course, the beautiful woman from my apartment complex, the beautiful woman whom I had no memory of.

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