The Church, Part 2

Church, LANDEWEDNACK, Cornwall, England.
Church, LANDEWEDNACK, Cornwall, England.

With a heated flash, the snake opened its mouth and clamped down on my upper torso.

Feeling warm and inviting, its tongue and coiled around my torso and pulled me into his waiting jaws.

The warmth of the saliva and body heat welcomed me as it slowly tried to swallow me whole.


I had pulled my Katana out before the tongue had pulled me in – jutting straight out in the samurai stance the snake had pulled me into its mouth – with the katana stabbing straight into the back of its throat.

With the warmth of the tongue and saliva, its blood flowed down my body like a flowing creek, running down my whole body. A sudden rush of air welcomed the back of my head and it spat me out just as it had swallowed me.

Still wondering about my great luck, I scrambled up and assuming a forward stance.  As if on cue, the snake reared its head 15 feet above the group and struck downward towards me.

With the invisible hand of fate, my body stepped to the left side – a classic Aikido movement as the snake’s head landed with a thud where my body once was. Having raised my sword above my head, my torso twisted to my right, having bullseye’d the snakes head in the flash of the snake’s attack.

Instinctively it came down amongst chaos of the snarling and hissing of the snake and entered the snake”s neck like a hot knife through butter.

Blood didn’t even come out of the slice as the sword’s silver body made its way down to the bottom end of the snake’s throat. With a thundering crash the bodiless head landed on the floor and bounced over to the right side of the church, crushing several rows of pews. All the meanwhile the body itself – still attached to the original  robed body fell in a spectacular defeat, blood spewing everywhere.

I positioned the katana and plunged the sword through the head to make sure it was dead. No sooner had I taken it out of the skull, a banshee ripped through me from the back. Falling forward, I collapsed under the intense pain, my katana laid useless next to me.

As more and more banshees burst forth from the fog, a voice rang out from the mist, reverberating off of the walls as they had loudspeakers…


It was the voice a desperate, emotional, and screaming psyche.


Funny enough, it sounded a lot like my mother. The phrase kept on repeating itself as more and more banshees passed through my torso like ghosts attempting to rip me apart.

The mist at this point had covered the pews and were closing at all sides. Whimpering from what felt like someone kicking my diaphragm multiple times, I laid there shaking from all the hits as if the seizure had seized my body.

Then it hit me – If the voice sounded like my mom, what would she have wanted me to say to her if she was yelling at me? I was surprised that this thought even came through.

With the last banshee entering my body, I allowed my voice to utter the first words that came out of my voice box…

“I love you mom”. 

Like a sliver of hope, the words echoed from my now spasming mouth.

As if on command, the mist stopped.

Hovering just a few feet from me and having already taken over the entire church, I rolled over to look and saw, with amazed eyes (while gasping for air) that the mist looked like a wall of grey silhouetted against the church. It was as if a beam of light was illuminating me, revealing the position of the church that my convulsing body was occupying. Still convulsing, I uttered the sentence..

“I love you mom”

As if pulled by some invisible force, the mist began receding, reveal the glimpses of the pews which they had only moments earlier swallowed whole.

“I love you mom.”

The fog receding some more – there were no more banshees – good I thought, but then I realized I had spoken too soon.

“You love me? How could you?! You can’t love me!?” 

“I love you, mom”

The fog’s retreat quickened – the pews had finally revealed themselves to the light, while the snakes body and head that were swallowed up by the fog just moments ago, were no longer there. With a whoosh of the air in the church, the fog retreated towards several side doors and left.

Rolling on my side I looked up at that front of the church, where the saint had been.

It was still there – along with the candles. Still burning as if the fog had forgotten to put them out. Thinking that my body was still ripped by the banshees, I laid there for a moment – then as if my body knew before I did I immediately got back up.

Looking around, it as if the fog had forgotten to destroy the church – nothing had changed – even the place where the snake had fallen the pews were there – as if they repaired themselves.

I stood up and looked around. There laid my katana where I had left it and the church before me, seemingly untouched. Looking up at the saint, the expression on is face seemed to indicate that even he didn’t know what had happened.

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