Abode of the Damned: A Dark Supernatural Fantasy by Matt Cole Page A

slowly he rolled onto his
stomach and spied them on the horizon, approaching, the sinister
mountains at their back. They were black and bunched up so he could
not gage their number. Yet, as they drew nearer, Cole could see
that they were a team, perhaps six, with a coach in tow. Yes, it
was a carriage with two dark figures riding atop.
    Risking all, Cole rose to his feet and waved
his arms over his head, signaling the carriage. “Over here! Over
here!” he called. The carriage responded hastening its pace for
Cole.
    Cole quickly surveyed the sky once more. The
monstrous beasts kept their distance, albeit continued to circle
overhead.
    “Over here!” Cole called again. Yet, as the
words left his mouth – as the carriage raced toward him – a sense
of foreboding poured into him like ice water. There was now
something disturbing about the dark figures atop the carriage.
    Cole suddenly had an intense desire to flee,
but could not move. He watched as the coach advanced, the team of
black horses storming toward him. Every cell in his body cried, flee while you can! But to where? There was no sanctuary in
this open ground. He could not possibly evade these horses or the
beasts in the sky. Still, the desire quickly grew and Cole trembled
as the carriage drew closer. Still, he denied himself his futile
attempt at escape.
    Very quickly the dark figures driving the
carriage could be seen all too well. They appeared naked, shiny
black as if horrible burned, with wiry, lean muscular bodies, so
defined that every tendon and striation of their musculature could
be seen. Their heads were oval and hairless with small pointed
ears, large luminous round eyes, and long narrow noses. Their
mouths hung open, small sharp teeth bared – their manic eyes on
fire – as they charged ahead.
    In that instant the carriage was upon Cole and he
quickly broke to his right. He pumped his arms and legs as hard as
ever and was astounded by his own speed. Still, the demonic coach
quickly corrected its course and Cole felt the fiend’s carriage at
his back once more – felt the labored breath of the team of beasts
hauling the coach, the thunder of their hooves, and the rumble of
wooden wheels.
    Again Cole cut sharply, this time to the left, and as
he did – looking over his shoulder – he saw the flaring nostrils
and white teeth of the demonic horses, horses with no eyes, their
orbits scarred over. One fiend held the reins, franticly driving
the team; the other hung off the coach leaning toward Cole, ready
to leap.
    No!
    * * * * *
    Cole awoke in the back of the carriage, slumped in a
corner close to the cage’s heavy iron barred door. Iron bars
surrounded him on three sides. The roof and floor were wooden, the
floor sparsely covered with straw. The carriage was now
motionless.
    A moment passed before Cole took note of the two
figures who sat silently in the dark against the far wall at the
other end of the cage. “Are you new? I mean, have you just
arrived?” spoke a young girl from out of the darkness.
    “What is this place? Where am I?” Cole responded,
searching the shadows for a better view of his new companions, his
head still ringing from the blows he had taken.
    “So you are new,” the girl spoke again as
she came forward into the light, crouching close to Cole. She
appeared to be ten or eleven years of age and wore a white dress
trimmed in pink. Waves of thick golden-cherry hair fell over her
shoulders and framed a pale angelic face, which - splashed with
amber freckles across her checks and small nose - provided a canvas
for two immaculate green eyes and full rubescent lips. “How do you
do? My name is Lucy Sutherland.”
    Cole, wearily pulled himself into an upright seated
position. “I’m Cole Sunger. What is this place?” He asked
again.
    “You’re,” Lucy hesitated, looked back into the
darkness at her companion. “You’re-“
    “Your dead, man. You have passed through Limbo and
arrived in the Netherworld.” The voice was