Engaging the Sons of Darkness

The June air was humid; darkness enveloped the small town of Evansville, a town sat upon an imaginary throne, isolated in time, a long forgotten relic. Scattered throughout the landscape a few glimmering lights could be seen coming from the scarcely populated town that was closed up tight. As the town lay in its morbid silence, a slight movement coming from the underbrush was stirring the leaves, a sound so faint it could easily go unnoticed. Being aroused from a peaceful nap, a lone tan dog, sensing danger, suddenly raised its head, let out a deep growl, and moved onto the safety of the porch, as the dark shadowy figure moved closer into the town.

Standing on the edge of the town surveying the landscape, a newcomer—a strange figure of a man—was watching the actions of the night unfolding as if it was a scene in a play.

On the east end of the main street, the shape of a tall steeple attached to a white building in desperate need of painting could be seen. This would serve as the house of worship to the fifty more or less citizens that regarded themselves to be devoted followers of John Wesley. Approximately two hundred feet to the right, stood the town's only grocery/general store and gas station. It was inside the general store that a single beam of light penetrated the darkness surrounding the building. No other building on the town's main street showed any sign of life or activity.

With what would appear as a form of time travel, the stranger was standing in front of another of the town's establishments set off the main street on a side road closer to the opposite end of town. One could hear, coming from the inside, the sound of clicking as a white ball made its way across a table and made contact with one of the several other balls of differing colors. The voices had a type of gaiety as the people inside were engaged in their own unique type of recreation.

Approaching the entrance, the stranger was hindered from entering the building by the sentry. With eyes that were cold and unwavering, the sentry was waiting to attack this stranger if he made an attempt to enter. After several minutes of visual combat, the stranger made his way away from the door. He knew that he alone was no match for this large imposing figure. The stranger was all alone in this town that time had forgotten.