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Glad Tithings
by R.E. Wood

Category: Science Fiction
Description: Two baby-boomers, Rick and Jill Wilson, find their dream home. After a lifetime of doing without, they're ready to embark on an early retirement to make the next chapter in their lives something extraordinary. They leave New York City behind and set out for a rural paradise in the mountains. But a secret is hidden by their chosen small town of Parrish. A secret that will tear apart their once unflappable marriage and cast them into a world that neither would have ever considered having to face. The biblical story of Ezekiel the Priest comes to life in alien form and holds sway over the town and all of its residents. Pastor Ezekiel Regnarts runs the local church and sees to it that membership is one hundred percent. And he is very persuasive. They must find a way out or face a life of servitude to an alien infiltration of earth by way of religious conscription and subsequent obedience. The world must be awakened to the growing menace innocently disguised as a string on rural churches. The divine rapture is unlikely to be divine for the residents of this small town.
eBook Publisher: Wild Child Publishing/Wild Child Publishing, 2008 2008
eBookwise Release Date: July 2009

eBookeBook

2 Reader Ratings:
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Available eBook Formats: OEBFF Format (IMP) [348 KB]
Words: 82274
Reading time: 235-329 min.


"an honest-to-God creepfest... I thoroughly enjoyed this tale..." 5 Flutes by White Russian, Cocktail Reviews


Stunned, Rick said, "I really ... I mean, now?"

"No time like the present. Why put it off if it is what you really want anyway? Besides, you can meet and greet the congregation at your own pace, in your own time, for as long as you want, or as long as you're comfortable. This little ritual will be our secret if you like. If that's what you want, and that's all you want, then so be it. I just want you to be on good terms with the Lord. He should know of your allegiance. He should be the reason you're here. He should be the only thought you bring to the chamber."

"Yeah but.... "Rick felt himself swept along by the moment and the simple enthusiasm of the preacher. It seems harmless enough. Plus, he knew he actually wanted to join and probably would have if he hadn't been pushed by Harley and even Jill. I can do this and save face by keeping it under wraps.

Whatever the rationale Rick used, he yielded to the reverend without a fight. It was almost as if he'd totally given in to this surreal dream and just allowed it to unfold as it would anyway, with or without his help. He might as well have been a spectator for all it mattered.

"Now, just close your eyes and breathe deep. Think happy thoughts, and when you open your eyes, I'll be there to greet you at the altar. Happy thoughts now. Let Jesus feel the love." Before he closed the door to the chamber and before Rick could utter so much as an acknowledgement to the simple instructions, the pastor said, "I will bring you forth out of the midst of it." He closed the door as the chamber began to vibrate and light emanated and disappeared from Rick's view.

Weightlessness claimed Rick, rendering his limbs too heavy to move. An odd feeling to be sure, but it held nothing to cause him disquiet until he opened his eyes. Four creatures the likes of which he could never have imagined stood around him. Each had four faces and four wings. He tried to lift his hands to rub his eyes, but he couldn't complete the connection to spark the nerve to lift his hands. The alien creatures sparkled like shiny brass statues polished to a high gloss. Hands came out from under their wings and worked his flesh in an odd massage, each of the four beings manipulating a quadrant of his body. It was only upon recognizing that his flesh was being rubbed and kneaded that he noticed his nakedness.

He tried to yell. Barely able to expel a nearly inaudible squeak from his mouth, each subsequent effort to protest came with lesser results. He couldn't struggle outside of his mind, and thoughts of an escape couldn't budge a muscle. He lay helpless.


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