Buried Yet Breathing23.

He approaches a man in his late twenties. He is sitting on a street bench, talking oh his phone, unbeknownst to any spiritual presence stalking him. The man is big in stature and in a very relaxed state.

Peter entered him fast, embedding himself beyond his flesh. To the naked eye, nothing strange was happening or had just happened. The man continued with his phone call, chuckling out loud and re-positioning himself on the bench, an elbow on his knee. Visually, this man had no clue whatsoever that a second soul had just inhabited him. It was just another day, enjoying a breather amidst some fresh air on his lunch break from the office. The sun shone down high overhead and there was no sign of cloud nor was there any breeze.

Inside was another story. Immediately upon insertion, the original soul went into a frenzy, not knowing what to do. Fully believing two souls could not coexist like this, Peter lunged in full force. With hands wrapped around its throat, he choked him.

The soul clawed at Peter’s arms, screaming. An intense battle for life and death inside one man’s body broke out into an all-out war.

It was at this moment that The Gathering could get a first-hand taste of the chaos taking place inside this man’s body. The man was visibly choking. He stood up, with arms flailing then dramatically grasping at his throat. His eyes bulged and his torso contracted fiercely. The man’s feet began stomping mercilessly, knees lifted high then crashing down to the concrete. No sound emanated from his ajar mouth.

Passerbyers stopped dead in their tracks, unknowing of what to do as they watched this man convulse. A van rear-ended a car, resulting in a truck rear-ending the van, in a parade of vehicle carnage with the driver of the car staring at the scene on the sidewalk. Both men got out of their van and truck and came over to yell at the driver of the car. But when they got closer, they lost all train of thought about the pile up and were drawn in to the man fighting for his life.

Peter pummeled the alarmed soul, tumbling with him in his clutches all around inside his shell. Inside of flesh, neither was able to speak. High pitched squeals combined with the rumbling crash of white noise came from both souls as they fought for territory. Peter tore into the host’s spirit, like a jellied glue, gouging and ripping. He fought back with his own hand on Peter’s neck, squeezing hard.

The man was on the ground now. Laying on his side, he twisted and contorted violently, gasping for short breaths. Blood was evident exiting his ears as he banged his head against the concrete. A group of twenty some people were standing around, terrified at what was taking place. They yelled to one another, though for the most part perfect strangers.

“We can’t just stand here watching!”

“I ain’t gonna try CPR on this dude, son!”

“Should we all tackle him? Is this a seizure?”

“No, no, if it’s a seizure, we let him ride it out.”

“This is straight outta a devil movie, man. I swear this isn’t some seizure!”

By Hearts Erased

A blogger for 6 years, I now have my poetry collection being published.

Leave a Reply

%d bloggers like this: