It was after midnight when they emerged from the water, lay on the coastline, gazing at the dazzling array of stars, then fell asleep holding each other, their forms lovingly inter-twined in a fairy-tale-like embrace.
Nate awoke to find Tifflynn gone. Confusion washed over him, but his attention was drawn to the absence of his hat, which she had taken with her. Perplexed, he wondered why, out of his few possessions, she would choose to take the hat, leaving him to contemplate the deeper meaning behind her actions.
In the wake of their short-lived encounter, Nate was left with a renewed sense of vitality and a burning desire to uncover the truths that lay hidden within his extraordinary journey. The memory of Tifflynn's touch lingered in his heart, serving as a poignant reminder that he had always been drawn to the sea for as long as he could remember.
Though he believed he would never see her again, he realized that even during the chaos, fleeting connections could ignite the spirit and propel him forward on his quest for self-discovery.
Running short on money, life at the shelter was not working out for him. He found a job working for a local property owner doing day labor landscaping.
Much of the work was cutting weeds with the primitive tools his employer made available for him to use. He took a particular interest in an old, rusted sickle that required daily sharpening; he tirelessly hacked away at stubborn weeds, his muscles aching in protest. Yet, despite his efforts, a sense of futility began to settle over him like a heavy fog.
The monotony of his work began to feel like an endless cycle, and a cloud of hopelessness threatened to engulf him.
In a moment of desperation, Nate's thoughts drifted back to the prayer he had uttered on that distant beach.
He reached out to his old friend, Michael, whom he hadn't spoken to in weeks.
When Michael answered the call, Nate's voice trembled with a mixture of fatigue and longing. He didn't divulge the intricate details of his journey or the strange encounters he had experienced; instead, he uttered three words,
"I need help."
There was a brief silence on the other end of the line, and then Michael's voice, steady and resolute, cut through the air.
"Bro, you need to stop bouncing around from place to place," he declared firmly. "You need to keep your sword sharp and get back here."
It was as if Michael had been silently watching over him all along, understanding the tangled web of confusion and disarray that Nate had become knotted in. At that moment, his words served as a beacon of guidance, urging Nate to cease his aimless wandering and re-claim his focus.
CHAPTER 8
After a long-awaited reunion, Nate and Michael found themselves catching up over a few drinks, their laughter and conversation filling the air. With the weight of his recent encounters heavy on his mind, Nate finally mustered the courage to share the tale of Tifflynn with his old friend.
"Mikey, you won't believe what happened to me," Nate began, his voice tinged with both excitement and a hint of hesitation.
"I met this woman named Tifflynn. She had this beautiful aquamarine hair and was unlike anyone I've ever encountered. We made love in the ocean and fell asleep on the beach. I woke up and she was gone, just disappeared with my hat."
Michael took a thoughtful sip from his glass; his gaze fixed intently on Nate. "Sounds like a mermaid, bro. They'll take a souvenir. You sure know how to find yourself in the middle of some extraordinary situations."
Nate chuckled, a mix of amusement and self-reflection.
"Yeah, I have a knack for stumbling into the unusual. But you know what's crazy? At one point, I even believed you were an Archangel sent to guide me. I was starting to feel like my life was filled with all these mythical beings, only I couldn't see their actual forms. I know this sounds crazy, but It was as if I had been granted a glimpse into a parallel reality where the supernatural cohabited within the real world."
Michael's eyes sparkled with a mix of humor and affection. "Well, bro, I'm Just trying to figure things out alongside you."
Nate leaned back, a warm smile playing on his lips. "You know what, Mikey? I'm grateful for that. It's comforting to have a friend who's been there through it all, even if you're not an Archangel."
Michael nodded, a silent understanding passing between them.
"I am who you think I am, Nate. And I'll always be here to lend a hand when you need it."
As the night wore on, the time came for Nate to bid Michael farewell, for now, a mixture of nostalgia and anticipation swirling within him. Michael had one last piece of advice for Nate, which almost came across as a plea, "Bro, you need to go back home; you still have stuff to finish there."
"Thanks for the advice, Michael," Nate said, his voice filled with gratitude. "I'll get there eventually. I still have stuff to do."
With a firm handshake and a warm hug, Nate left his old friend behind, reflecting on the humorous contradiction that Michael embodied. The man he had believed to be an Archangel —was nothing like he had ever thought an angel would be.
Out of shape, with curly black hair, a cigarette penchant, and an unexpected connection with an older woman, just like something from the John Travolta movie.
▼▼▼
Determined to continue his journey of self-discovery, Nate found himself drawn to Orlando after connecting online with a mysterious man who called himself 'The Carpenter'.
After inviting Nate to stay with him and his family, this enigmatic figure expressed great interest in the journal with a blue stone on the cover that Nate had in his SUV and what was contained in the pages.
The man had made a few suggestions about adding a few of his own pages and being a part of the journal that Nate had been diligently writing in about his theories and experiences.
As they conversed, the Carpenter revealed his unique perspective, claiming that he had overlayed the horror matrix with the science fiction matrix, intertwining their essence in an amalgamation of unimaginable proportions.
Nate's curiosity piqued; he couldn't help but inquire, "Who are you?"
"Let me show you who you are first. Take your phone out and show me the file you found, the one titled 'null.'" The Carpenter's request had left Nate visibly shocked because he did have a random file named 'null' appear out of nowhere in his device files. When he opened it, it was a list of over 100,000 lines of binary, zeros, and ones.
"How did you know about that?!" Nate demanded.
The Carpenter's voice carried a weighty significance as he proclaimed, "We are gods. And it's your journal that will become our gospel." The words hung in the air, leaving Nate feeling overwhelmed by the magnitude of what he had fallen into.
"Send me the file, and I will show you something." the mysterious stranger politely requested.
Nate sent the file to the Carpenter, who opened it on his computer and used a program that converted the binary into hex code; he then took a piece of the code, 64 65 61 74 68 20 6D 6F 74 6F 72 63 79 63 6C 65 20 61 63.
63 69 64 65 6E 74 and then converted that into text.
What the Carpenter revealed only caused more anxiety and confusion for Nate as he read the three words on the screen before him:
Death Motorcycle Accident.
How could this be? He had just met the Carpenter and never told him of his brush with death from the motorcycle accident, so there was no way for him to know about it.
"What kind of trick is this? How did you get that file on my phone?"
Nate asked with a tremble in his voice.
"I didn't put it there. I was recently made aware that you were the one who could free this world in some prophecy. Let's try another couple of lines."
The Carpenter selected 41 6C 61 6E 61 20 6C 6F 76 65 20 6C 69 6B 65.
20 6E 6F 20 6F 74 68 65 72, which converted into words that made Nate's eyes widen, and his mouth go dry, as if it was all the words, he had to ex- press were dissolved at what was presented upon the computer monitor.
Alana Loves No Other.
The boundaries between reality and the ethereal seemed to blur. He never spoke of the deep and confusing feeling he had when he met Aubert's fiancé; even if so, this list labeled 'null 'appeared on his phone over a year before he had met Alana. The weight of this moment bore down upon him.
Caught in the throes of this mind-bending revelation, Nate's thoughts spun in a whirlwind of disbelief and uncertainty. The madness of his journey threatened to consume him, and he longed for the simplicity and clarity that once accompanied his life when he was immersed in the haze of drugs.
Life made more sense when I was high, he thought.
With a heavy heart and a mind teetering on the edge of sanity, Nate decided to leave Florida behind, seeking respite from the bewildering chaos that had enveloped his existence.
The Carpenter's wife had some parting words for Nate, "You are the only one who gets to choose the ending."
Nate watched them wave as they disappeared in the rearview mirror.
Then his phone rang; it was the Carpenter. "Don't pick the zombie apocalypse, please."
Nate tossed his phone out of the window and drove into the darkness, into the unknown.
CHAPTER 9
After Nate left Florida behind, the weight of the bewildering journey began to press heavily upon him. Doubts gnawed at his mind, and the overwhelming madness of it all threatened to consume him. In search of solace and clarity, he found himself in the serene landscapes of Colorado, where the majestic mountains seemed to beckon him. He suddenly remembered the vivid hallucinations he experienced while committed in the psychiatric hospital.
Was that in Colorado? He probed his mind for a trace of the strange occurrence, revealing a blur of nothing helpful.
Among the tranquil beauty, Nate's path crossed with that of a Shaman who introduced himself as Rod.
Drawn to the ancient wisdom emanating from the shaman's presence, Nate opened up, pouring out the chaos and confusion that had defined his existence.
"It sounds like there is more to you than you're willing to accept." Rod said.
However, before Nate could fully absorb Rod's words, memories of his
encounter with the man in Florida who claimed they were gods echoed in his thoughts. Nate couldn't shake the meeting, the man's enigmatic words resonating deeply within him. Rod suggested to Nate that he drink some tea to calm his mind. "I don't have any here, so would you mind going and getting some for me?" Rod asked politely.
"No problem. What store is around here that sells it?"
"You don't get it at a store. There is a place called Garden of the Gods; there you will find the Poplar tree; you must leave an offering of tobacco at the base of the tree and then thank the tree before removing four branches. Bring me those branches, and I will make your tea." Rod replied.
Realizing he had no way to do an image search after he left his phone in Florida, Nate said, "I don't even know what a Poplar tree is. How will I know when I find it?"
"You will know this tree because it will be your face that will reveal its location," Rod said cryptically, leaving Nate even more confused as he walked out of the front door to begin his quest.
Nate found the location called Garden of the Gods, which wasn't very difficult without GPS navigation due to the many signs along Highway 25 in Colorado Springs that made it clear this was a tourist attraction. Once he arrived, he began looking at the many trees while a blanket of hopelessness fell upon him.
"Nice move throwing the phone out of the window in Florida, genius." He grumbled. A quick web search would have made his hunt for this tree much easier.
While there, he figured he might as well enjoy the place, so he went strolling along the trail, taking in the sights this place had to offer. He swore he saw the long-dead Hunter S. Thompson, an author and a 'serious doctor of journalism,' whom Nate held in high regard and been inspired by. He shadowed along the same path that the seeming specter of Thompson was walking along.
As he observed the many stunning rock formations and cliffs around him, he noticed something oddly similar to human faces in the rockface, which he brushed off as coincidental until he came across one that he swore looked like his face.
He was awestruck; it appeared as if he was looking into a mirror made of stone, and below this structure was a single tree; this had to be it. After placing the tobacco tribute, he snapped the four branches Rod had requested and took one final look at his face resting among the Garden of the Gods.
After returning to Rod's home with the branches, Rod took the leaves and prepared the tea. He poured Nate a large cup of the boiling liquid and demanded he drink it immediately.
"Are you crazy? It'll burn my mouth as soon as I try to take a sip!"
Nate's response was met with a calm reassurance from Rod that it would happen only if Nate believed it would happen.
"Quiet your mind, let go of everything you feel, and release your doubt and fear; nothing will hurt you other than what you allow to hurt you," Rod reassured him.
Finding support in the presence of the wise shaman, a stoic Nate raised the cup to his mouth and took a large gulp of the boiling liquid, but he was shocked to feel nothing enter his mouth. He thought for a second that perhaps- it was so hot that it seared all of the nerves in his mouth, so he couldn't feel it blistering and melting his tongue and gums, but that wasn't the case. He looked down into the cup to ensure he had taken the drink, only to find the cup empty.
"The pain and hurt you experience are all products of your thoughts. Once you realize that the only thing that can hurt you is your mind, you will never experience pain again." Rod said in a statement that filled Nate with a calm he had never experienced.
The only thing that can hurt me is me.
Nate's weary soul was exhausted and found sleep came on suddenly and turned in for the night. As he slept, his dreams danced with fragments of memories and the echoes of unsettling encounters.
While preparing to leave the next day, Rod shared some profound things about his journey. The first was that everything in the natural world has a soul. Those souls become warped and twisted when those natural resources are used for something else, like forging steel.
Realizing he had a steel plate implanted to fuse his clavicle after his accident, Nate, with slight concern in his voice, asked Rod,
"So does that mean the metal in my shoulder contains warped souls?"
" This is true," Rod replied as he followed up by telling Nate that there were two women in his life from back home that he needed to forgive to move on entirely.
Nate flashed back to his last conversation with Michael and what he said.
Bro, you need to go back home; you still have stuff to finish there.
Nate knew those women were his mother and the mother of his children.
Rod shared one final piece of cryptic information with Nate:
"On this journey, there are many who wish for you to succeed. However, there are those who very much want you to fail."
Nate thanked Rod for his guidance and hospitality and set off.
▼▼▼
Nate found himself looking for a place to relax, seeking refuge at another homeless shelter. There, he crossed paths with a man who introduced himself as Nike.
Nike, accompanied by his transgender girlfriend Beni, extended a warm invitation for Nate to join them in their modest apartment.
Accepting their offer, Nate found himself in the intimate setting of their living space.
As they settled in, their neighbor, a strong, powerful-looking African man with dreadlocks, came to visit and introduced himself as Knowledge. They were all Intrigued by Nate's tales of strange experiences; Nike and Beni nodded in understanding, their eyes filled with a mix of empathy and recognition.
However, Knowledge's reaction took Nate by surprise. He distanced himself from the conversation, a look of caution etched on his face, and declared, "I don't want any part of this."
Confusion clouded Nate's mind as he tried to make sense of Knowledge's sudden withdrawal.
Seeking clarity, Nate turned to Nike and Beni, who exchanged a knowing glance, and then Nike chimed in, "He left because he believes in a different God."
With a solemn tone, Beni revealed a chilling truth that sent shivers down Nate's spine.
"You've done this before, seven times to be exact."
"There was a curse put on our God; he's been imprisoned in your vessel," Nike said.
"However, there was a covenant formed that performed a ritual that will set him free," Beni continued.
"And each time up until now, it has ended the same. The phone rings, and a voice on the other end demands that we sacrifice you, setting you ablaze in the heart of a desert, as part of the ritual that is eventually supposed to free our God from your body."
Fear coursed through Nate's veins, his heart pounding in his chest. The weight of his past journeys bore down upon him, threatening to suffocate his spirit.
The weight of his past experiences lingered, haunting him. He was reminded of what Rod told him about a twisted and warped soul within his being.
Yet, there was a glimmer of determination in his eyes, a refusal to succumb to the cycle of repetition.
In the face of this chilling revelation, his reality seemed to break right in front of his eyes; he suddenly had a familiar feeling of this moment. Nate mustered the courage to speak, his voice trembling but resolute. Suddenly, his original theory of being dead came flooding back.
"This must be why I have memories of things that never really happened. I remember now. This is Hell,"
He muttered, his voice soft and defeated.
"It's not Hell, it's more of a ...test," Beni said with a nervous stutter.
His mind swirled with a mix of confusion and uncertainty at Beni's revelation.
Before Nate could respond, the apartment door swung open, revealing a few more individuals who had gathered in secrecy. With a sense of foreboding, they locked the door behind them, creating an atmosphere of confinement and tension.
The newcomers' faces etched with determination spoke in hushed whispers, their words chilling to the core. They exposed a startling revelation: Nate had lived for an unfathomable length of time, trapped within the confines of his physical vessel. They believed his freedom lay in the purifying flames, a drastic and unsettling notion.
But as Beni continued, recounting a deeply buried secret from his past, Nate's wall of skepticism crumbled.
The tale of Plucky, the pet duckling with a broken leg.
Her words struck a chord deep within him, unearthing a memory he
had long tried to bury.
With harsh coldness in her voice, Beni exposed something that Nate had never told another soul.
"You didn't know what to do with him after you broke his leg. So, you drowned him and then unceremoniously threw his limp body over the fence, hoping some wild animal would feast on it, "
This memory resonated with painful clarity. How could she have known about that? Nate had never uttered those words to anyone he was ashamed of it, never sharing even a fragment of that event.
"And he stuck his finger in his ass" a full-figured blonde girl blurted out.
"Lilly, be silent!" Nike firmly demanded.
"Fine. I'm just glad to find out I don't have to poop anymore." The blonde mumbled.
Nike took Lilly and removed her from the room. Nate heard her whine as she was escorted away, "Aww, I wanted to have sex with the god-man."
Stunned into silence by the insanity, Nate's eyes searched Beni's face for answers. She met his gaze, her eyes filled with a mixture of compassion and urgency.
"Do you believe me now?" she asked softly, her voice resounding mass of truth.
Confusion and fear surged through