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Resurrection of Fear

I hope everyone had a wonderful Christmas and so I just wanted to post the first chapter in my seventh upcoming novel "Resurrection of Fear". It takes place in a small town in Alberta and I hope you enjoy it.


If you like you can check out my Authors page- https://www.amazon.ca/Miles-Davis/e/B09BLTM125/ref=dp_byline_cont_pop_ebooks_1 and follow me on Twitter- https://twitter.com/MilesDavisAuth


A Forgotten Temple:


During the age of darkness through to the modern era came the belief in good and evil. Brought along the simple question that has to be answered, all about why? The very concept of attempting to find out the truth about our existence. Over the years, people have tried to answer these questions in many parts of the world. With their own strange twists and turns that would not only cloud the minds of those who stood loyal but across the lands.

The world forever grew dark, and soon the chaos came to an end by means of senseless murders and the mass extinction of these societies. All that remained was nothing more than an ancient relic, a statue of a fallen deity, who would offer protection in return for one's own mind.

The perfect being in its eye was that of a loyal drone. Someone that could do its bidding and, in turn, bring forth its life to the world of the living.

This diety was known simply as Banisk. A being once worshiped by small bands of people. A religion forged out of the insanity of those who believed. Darkness blanketed the land as the waters slowly rose and erased all traces of those who walked before them all. As the waters turned red and the storms began to rip apart all that was built, it was soon over. The world we know today slowly formed as the waters receded back, and soon all was back to normal for the time being.


Soon as the world grew and humanity spread forth and cultivated into what it is today. I soon found myself living the sort of quiet life that one would find themselves indulging in while living in a small one-horse town. A place lost in the sea of farmers' fields and the odd pump jack that stood as a reminder of another time. They were often seen pumping oil out of the ground, but the odd one here and there was rusted solid.

A few of those are just on the outskirts of my town, a relatively quiet place known as Stavely. It's the kind of place where everyone knows everyone. The place where you can run into a friend from high school shopping for dinner while the once-popular kid worked the register. With only one school, one grocery store, no movie theatre, and a small workforce, there wasn't much going on by means of anything significant happening around these parts. But it's my home, and I honestly enjoy it.

I work as a truck driver, the kind of guy who works as a farmhand during the summer and for a small snow removal operation in the winter. For the most part, it's a simple life that I enjoy the most. As many people yearn for the city's bright lights, I just like to live my life in peace and quiet.


But this was all going to change, and I knew that it wasn't going to be the same. While the school year had come to an end and so with it came to an influx of boredom.

For the most part, I didn't mind and could honestly remember the times I would just hang out with friends and explore the town. But as those days are now over, the workday consists of me working from daybreak to sunset. For the most part, it's a great workout, moving bales of hay around and working to produce something great.

At night I lived in a small one-bedroom apartment built sometime after the second world war. The walls were paper-thin, and the carpet was older than me, but for the most part, I was on my own, and that was all that mattered at this point.


It was Sunday and my only day off for the most part. As the vast population worshipped on Sundays, it was a lovely day to rest and enjoy some free time by just lounging around. But as I made my way to the kitchen to make myself a pot of coffee. There was a knock at my door. Quickly, I looked over to the clock on my stove and saw that the time wasn't even seven in the morning.

Slowly, I made my way to the door, not wanting to make a sound. For the most part, someone knocking at your door before seven in the morning wasn't anything good. Most of the time, it was just some wandering drunk who got lost along the way.

Just as I pressed my face against the door and peered through the peephole, and saw that it was my neighbor Ted. I leaned back and gave a sigh to myself. For the most part, I wondered what he wanted at this hour. We've been a friend for quite some time actually we met the moment I moved in. He was a year older than me and married right out of High School. He still worked at the grocery store and finally got that big promotion to Store Manager.

Without much of a fight, I unlocked the door and opened it a crack. There wasn't much to do but to see what he wanted, and that's when he greeted me with a good morning and asked if he could come in. I thought about it for a moment and figured out what was the worst that could happen. As I opened the door, Ted walked in and closed the door behind him. I went to the kitchen and finished making my coffee all the while.

"How's it going?" Ted asked. He looked exhausted and just entirely run down.


I told him that nothing was happening at the moment and that since it was my only day off for the most part that I was just going to relax.

Ted, who I figured, for the most part, was going through some things that I didn't feel comfortable for the most part in asking. He seemed as if he was on the brink of a total mental collapse or something along those lines.

So as I made coffee, I made my way over to the counter and asked him if he was alright? I wanted to know if he was interested in having a cup of coffee and a seat for the most part. To which he obliged and sat down at the small two-person kitchen table. The smell of freshly brewed coffee fills my home with the aroma of pure bliss.


Ted looked at me with a worried look and cleared his throat. This wasn't like him. Usually, he was the type of guy who would be open and friendly, cracking jokes and all that jazz.

So, I got up and poured ourselves two mugs of hot black coffee, and just as I made my way back to the table. Ted opened up and told me just what the issue he was having was. He leaned in and, in a hushed tone, whispered that he's seen some weird shit happening around these parts. For the most detail, I couldn't even guess what he was going to tell me.

Just as I took a sip of my piping hot coffee, I jokingly asked if it had anything to do with cults or perhaps monsters? The look on his face said that this was not a joking matter.


Ted went on to tell me that late into the night, usually three to four days a week, he hears strange sounds coming from the apartment above him. The two of us both lived on the ground floor, so you'd usually listen to everything going on from those above you. Usually, people speak loud on the phone or flushing the toilet in the middle of the night. It wasn't really a big deal for me because I was out like a light after an hour of being at home when I went home.

But I brought it up to him. Maybe it's just some kid making noises or goofing around? Ted went on to tell me that it wasn't like that. The noises were something not made by no kid or no drunk.

I asked him just what he had heard. It was at this point I noticed that his hands were trembling. For the most part, I was honestly worried about his well-being. It wasn't like him to be like this. Sure, if you live in a crummy apartment with thin walls, you're bound to hear something creepy or perhaps some noises that will allow your mind to run wild.

So, I asked Ted just when did this start? I was on the edge of my seat, wondering just what he was going to say next. Ted took a sip of the coffee and told me that he hadn't slept in days. A diet strictly of caffeine and sugar, anything that could help him combat falling asleep.


"Why are you doing this to yourself?" I asked.


"Because I'm not going to let that thing get me." Ted said with a nervous look on his face.


Ted told me that it all started a couple of nights ago. He was at home by himself, eating a dinner consisting of frozen pizza and the odd few beers. One of his favorite game shows was on, so he was finally going to take some time to relax.

Just as he was enjoying the show, he heard the sound of loud knocking could be heard. It echoed throughout the building, and as silence was soon accompanied by it, he thought nothing of it.

Thirty minutes went by, and there was nothing. Ted was on his way to the bathroom when suddenly he heard the sound of a table being knocked over. It was loud enough to make one believe it could be a table.

This was followed by a muffled scream that lasted for a good thirty to forty seconds. Then there was nothing but silence, and it was at this time I asked Ted if it was probably just a drunken brawl between a couple? Because in some towns like this or even in the big cities. Something will happen if you keep two people in a cramped place and add alcohol to it.


The look of complete and utter fear on his face spoke volumes of what he said.

Ted went on to tell me that later that night, as he was lying in bed, he could hear the muffled sounds of what sounded like someone sawing through something. Like a handsaw being dragged across the flesh and muscle.

It lasted for what could've been for hours, and during the next few days, there was absolutely nothing but silence. Ted, after his shift, would sit in complete and utter silence, waiting for someone to make a sound. But all he was able to hear was the goings-on in everyday life.

Then like clockwork, as he was watching his favorite show again, he heard the knocking yet again. This time it caught him off guard, and his heart was pounding through his chest, and without a second thought, he shut the tv off and looked up to his ceiling. He quietly walked over to his door and looked up as the door slammed shut. Ted held his breath and scanned the ceiling in the hopes of hearing even the slightest noise.

At around the twenty-minute mark, the sound of a muffled scream could be heard. But this time only for a few seconds, and this was all that he could take.

Without a second thought and running on adrenaline, Ted rushed out into the hallway and ran to the nearest staircase. He sprinted up the stairs and found himself standing before the neighbor's door. Just a thin door separated Ted from whatever the hell was going on in there. He began to have second thoughts about just what he was about to do. But as without a moment to spare, he knocked on the door and was greeted by nothing but silence.


He stood there completely motionless as he was utterly alone. At this time, he heard the faint sound of whimpering coming from inside the apartment.

An eerie silence filled the hallway as the sounds of footsteps creaking towards the door could be heard. Ted said he was frozen with fear and felt that someone was watching him. Just then, from out of nowhere. The sound of a loud thud echoed through the hallway with such force that the door buckled.

Without a moment to spare, and as I was praying that nothing wrong would happen to me. Ted ran back to his place like a Deer who spotted a predator. Ever since then, he's been hearing those noises day in and day out.


I couldn't believe what he was telling me. For the most part, I asked him if he was a hundred percent sure of what he had heard. It was pretty outlandish for the most part that something like this was happening here of all places.

Ted stuck his finger into his cup of coffee, which was lukewarm by this point, and shotgunned it down. While he made a face of utter disgust, most likely because the coffee was the cheap stuff. He swiftly placed the mug on the table and looked up to the ceiling in complete paranoia.

I asked Ted just what was he going to do about this? He told me that he had already reported it to the Super, but for the most part, that went nowhere. For a moment, I worried for him; I knew that this was going to end one of two ways. First, he breaks into the apartment and gets thrown into the slammer. The second he has some form of a mental breakdown. For the most part, I saw him lean towards the first, so I asked him if he wanted to sleep on my couch for a few hours.

The look of sheer exhaustion on his face could make even the most awake person want to sleep. With a faint nod, he got up and stumbled over and plopped down on the couch as if his legs had given out from under him.

Within a few moments, he was out like a light. For a moment, the idea had popped into my head about going over to Ted's apartment and checking out just what was happening. Who knows? Maybe I could find out just what the hell was going on. I wanted to prove once and for all that it's all in his head.

I left my apartment and entered the hallway, not wanting to wake him. I made my way down a few doors and stood before the entrance of his home. Apartment one hundred, the faded white paint greeted me as the oddly shaped black numbers hung on the door with rusty nails.

Not wanting to draw too much attention to myself, I quickly opened the door and slowly swung the door open. I waited for whatever would jump out at me, and yet I was completely alone. Slowly, I made my way into his kitchen and held my breath in the hopes of hearing something, anything that could lead me to a conclusion of what he said.

I made my way into his living room and sat down on the small couch, and looked over the scarcely decorated area. I waited for a few minutes and soon came to the realization that I was just wasting my time. So, I stood up, and just as I was making my way to the door, I heard the sound of muffled cries coming from the ceiling.

This caught my attention as I could feel my stomach begin to turn. I whispered under my breath to whatever God was out there. I swiftly left the apartment and headed upstairs, not wanting to draw my attention.


I slowly opened the stairwell door and walked over to apartment two hundred. I slowly pressed my ear against the door and held my breath for a few moments.

But all I could hear was my heart beating from outside of my chest. Just then, I listened to the sound of a table swiftly being moved, followed by another muffled scream. Without a second thought, I moved my head away from the door, and just then, the stairwell door opened.

This caught me off guard, and I turned to see that it was an elderly woman who had just returned from walking her dog. Our eyes locked, and she told me that if I was trying to get Mr. Ardelean's attention, I would have better luck winning the lottery. For a moment, this comment caught me off guard, and I wondered just why she would say that?


"He's home all the time and yet doesn't answer the door. He's rude. When he moved in just a few weeks ago, the welcome committee wanted to give him a fruit basket. He never answered. It was a waste of fruit if you ask me."


"So he never leaves? Does anyone know what he looks like?" I asked.


"No, he's weird. I think the girl in the office would know. Plus, whenever he cooks, it stinks. These types, I say yeah, are really a strange bunch. Wouldn't doubt it if he was on drugs."


I quickly thanked her for her time and made my way back to the stairwell. I knew something had to be done about it for the most part. I didn't trust Ted when it came to the noises that he heard, but I can understand why he's all over the place since I heard them too.

Slowly, I made my way down the stairs and to the exit of the building. I was greeted by the warmth of the Sun and the smell of freshly cut grass. The parking lot was empty as almost everyone was at Church praying for their sins committed over the dull work week.


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