Rachel Stanton and The Darkest Night

CHAPTER 3: PROTECTOR

3. PROTECTOR

I was not sure where I was exactly. It was dark, but I recognized walls surrounding me. I started to become aware that I was inside a room—a room that had no doors, no windows and no chance of escape.

Across the room, I saw a white figure of a man appearing slowly. He was wearing a glowing white shirt and pajamas. At first I couldn’t recognize him. It was too bright to see his face. I looked down at his feet; he was barefooted.

His face wasn’t clear. But after a few seconds I saw thin smoke cover up his face. The smoke lasted for a second. When it vanished, I could finally make out the man’s face. It was Jared.

His eyes glanced about the room, finding me after a few seconds. I stared. He smiled to me as if it were a relief to him to see me here. He raised his hands like he was welcoming me to this place. I hesitated, and came to a realization that he was asking me to hug him.

I stepped forward in his direction, unsure if it were the right thing to do. I wanted to go to him, to come with him. I took another step, but Jared started to fade slowly. What is happening? I thought. Why is he going away?

I stared at his face, and saw that his smile was fading as well. At first I did not understand. Was he already saying goodbye?

“No,” I shouted, trying to make my voice loud. “Jared, don’t go!”

I began to walk toward him again, but it just got worse. Why was it happening? Why was he disappearing? It seemed that someone didn’t want me to go to him.

I tried again. But in one another step, he had completely disappeared.

And I was alone.

Behind me, I heard a male voice call my name. The voice gave me a sense of familiarity. I turned around where the voice came from, but I could only see darkness. “Where are you?” I asked, desperate.

And I saw, a few yards away, another white figure. It was an adult man wearing a glowing white robe. I stared at him with my eyes half-closed, examining only the distinct parts of the man’s body.

After moments of watching, a cloud of smoke went by his face and made it clear from view. It shone brighter for a second, but the light quickly faded away. I stared, my eyes fully open, and saw his pupils shone bright to life.

When I studied his face, I thought there was someone I knew who looked like him. Dark hair, straight nose, thick eyebrows, square jaws, and pale-skinned. The man had an average body build which absolutely looked the same as my relative.

“Dad?” I asked, curious. “Is that you?”

I thought I was having a stupid dream. I had never seen Dad wear clothes like that. The man had white, glowing eyes while Dad had hazel brown. It was then I thought that that was the only difference between him and Dad.

The man’s lips formed a thin line. “No, Rachel,” he said, but I knew the voice belonged to my father. “I am not.”

Why would Dad pretend that he wasn’t him? Or why would someone pretend to be my dad? I went utterly and suddenly confused.

“If you are not my father, who are you?” I managed to keep my voice calm, trying to sound it as normal as possible. “You have my father’s appearance and voice.”

“Indeed, I have.” The man began to step forward, his paces short, slow and sure. I let him come closer, but someone at the back of my mind told me to tell him to stop.