Brett woke up to someone knocking on the front door of his mom’s single story home in the suburbs of New Cascadia, Washington. Instinctively, Brett rolled over and tried to go back to sleep; someone else would get the door. He heard his mom’s door open up and he watched as golden light slowly illuminated more and more of the hardwood floor in the hallway.

After seeing his stepfather, slowly waddle down the hallway, he looked up at his clock. It almost yelled to him, “1:27 A.M.” He sighed, and rolled over onto his back, hoping he’d fall back asleep soon. He heard the front door swing open, and then a slightly high pitched pop! Barely half a second later, the pop was accompanied by a thump!

Brett squinted and sat up in bed. There were no words spoken, just noise. For a few more moments, it was like the world stood still. Something wasn’t right, and Brett knew. With this premonition, he slowly got out of bed, and crept toward his closet.

He slowly slid the closet door open and pulled out his aluminum baseball bat. Even if nothing bad had happened, it was still better to be safe than sorry. With the baseball bat in his hands, Brett walked towards the wide open doorway.

Then, like ghosts in the night, he heard whispers. Though they were various whispers, they were unintelligible, and he couldn’t make out what they were saying. Now, Brett was aware that something abnormal was going on – potentially something dangerous. Had someone broken in?

As he walked over to the door, he heard the sound of heavy dragging and then quiet footsteps in various areas of the house. Brett’s mother was sound asleep, but getting across the hallway could have been potentially dangerous. Brett peeked his head around the corner, and saw beams of light grazing across the furniture of the house.

Now that he knew the coast was clear, and that no one would see him, Brett darted across the hall and into his mother’s room, with the bat in hand. His mother was sound asleep in her bed. He shook her violently, and frantically whispered, “Mom, someone is in the house!”

Still half asleep she said, “What? What do you mean?”

“Just call 911! I think people have broken in.”

She sat up, “Where’s Aaron?”

“I don’t know.”

His mother picked up her phone from the nightstand and began to dial 911. Out of the corner of his eye, Brett saw a bright, white beam of light shine down the hallway. “Christ,” he muttered. He tiptoed over to the door, and slightly hid behind it. Brett readied the bat, and was ready to hit someone with the power of Babe Ruth.

The beam of light began to get narrower and narrower as the intruder crept down the hallway. It flicked into his bedroom, and then darted over to the room he and his brother were in. The light shined on his mother. His mother began to slowly take the phone away from her ear, with it still connected to the 911 operator. She stared into the light.

The intruder slowly walked into the room and demanded in a ghastly voice, “Put the phone down on the nightstand.” She obeyed, and slowly sat it down. “Who did you call?”

“No one.” she whimpered.

Brett still stood behind the door, waiting, as the intruder slowly walked into the room. Brett saw a tall, slender figure who was dressed in all black, walk towards the nightstand. Brett took this opportunity, and silently crept from behind the door, despite shaking like a palm frond in a hurricane.

The intruder picked up the phone, and looked at the bold, white digits displayed on the screen, “911.” He shook his head, and pointed a silenced handgun at his mother.

“Shouldn’t have cal-”

Clink! Brett smacked the intruder in the back of the head with the bat. The intruder fell to the floor. Brett’s mother screamed, and inevitably warned the other intruders. The sounds of quick footsteps filled the house. Two beams of light swiftly, and repeatedly crossed into one another as they got narrowed, signalling that more were on the way.

Brett froze, and knew that where would be no way he would be able to face off with two armed people. Then the intruders were at least entering the room, and before Brett knew it, there was a silenced rifle and handgun pointed directly at him. Like a pre-death tease, Brett stared into the light.

A female spoke, “Do not move, or we will fire on you.” Brett obeyed and did not move. His mother jumped out of bed and stood in front of her son.

“I’m not going to let you hurt him!” she yelled as she grabbed the baseball bat from Brett’s cold hands.

“Move.” the opposing female voice said, as she and the other intruder slowly stepped into the room with their weapons still drawn.

“No!” his mother responded sternly. “Just leave!”

Plink! Before Brett knew it, his mother’s blood was splattered on his face, and she dropped to the floor. Brett, terrified, stood like a deer in headlights thinking that he was next. He watched as a muscular, male figure holstered his handgun, and pulled out a different one. He pointed it at Brett, who stood shaking and silent. Pop!


A disoriented Brett slowly opened his eyes, and took in warm, orange light. He sluggishly moved his head to the sides, trying to get details from his surroundings. His vision was blurred, and his body felt numb.

Momentarily, he began to feel more, and his vision slowly cleared. He heard a female yell, “Abel! He’s awake.” Brett jolted back to full conscious and began to breathe heavy. He looked panickedly looked around. To him, it looked as if he was in some kind of church that had been heavily fortified, and lit up with torches, and barrels of burning firewood. He attempted to get up, but realized that he was very tightly strapped to the bed.

He looked at the woman that was standing next to his bed, and must’ve been waiting for the man named Abel. “Where am I?” he aggressively screamed. The woman ignored him and kept looking off towards the doors of the church.

Suddenly, natural light flooded through the doorway that slammed open. Through the bright light, he saw three large figures. Two of the figures were behind the one, and also appeared to be holding rifles. The doors shut, and he could now see the figures clearly as they approached his bedside.

“Welcome, Brett!” a smooth voiced called out. It was the man in front. He appeared to have a clean haircut, and he was wearing preacher’s clothing. “My name is Abel. Welcome to New Eden.”

“Why am I here? My parents-” Brett stopped questioning and began sobbing. He recalled his mother had been murdered, and he assumed the same for his stepfather.

“Relax, son.” Abel whispered to him as he knelt down to his bedside. “Your father is here. He wanted this for you.”

“What do you mean?” Brett managed to squeeze through his sobs.

“Your biological father, Ryan, wanted us to bring you here. You will be saved.”

“No, that can’t be true.”

“I wouldn’t lie, son.” Abel said as he got up. “You’ll see soon.”

Brett watched as the woman, who appeared to be a nurse, pull a needle off of a tray on the floor. The two men behind Abel walked over and held Brett’s arms down. The nurse slid the needle into Brett’s left arm, and injected a liquid. Not even seconds later, Brett went unconscious.


Brett began to regain consciousness. He groaned, and attempted to sit up. Brett rubbed his eyes and looked around. Next to his bedside, was his father. His face lit up, and he spoke with a hoarse voice, “Dad, what is going on?” He felt a sense of calm. “Why did they… kill mom?”

His father sighed and looked up at him. “There’s things we need to talk about, son. God wants it this way. You’ll understand soon. We must wait for Abel.”

“Who’s Abel?”

“The prophet. We’re sheep of his flock.”

Brett slowly nodded his head and waited.


Shortly after, Abel walked up to the bedside. “Good morning, Brett.” Brett nodded. “Do you know why you are here, son?”

“No,” Brett responded.

“God wants you here with us, Brett. He told me, so. You have great potential, our Lord has told me this and so has your father.”

Brett frowned. “Why did you kill my  mother?”

“I did not kill your mother, son.” Abel put his hand on the top of Brett’s head. “A member of our flock has, and they were instructed to do, not by me, but by God.”

Brett shook his head in denial. “Okay.” He didn’t want to talk about it anymore.

“It’s okay, Brett. She was given a proper burial, as was your stepfather.” Abel paused for a short bit. “You’re going to help save all of us. You’re going to do great things.”

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