The Many Adventures of Ben Morgan, Chapter 5

Chapter 5.
I opened my eyes with a jump and there I was on my floor with my blue robe lying beside me. Gasping for air I sat up and leaned against the couch using my robe as a blanket, and winded. I was shocked from the pain in my leg and elbow. Huh, at least it was just something small. For some reason I always got hurt in these flashes.
Getting to my feet I snatched my journal off the bookshelf and set to writing all of this down, at the table. I had cases and cases of journal entries from previous encounters. I call them “flashes” usually because they come and go so quick. Where did that knife come from? What could produce that black ora? For some reason it was coming from that black knife. Clearly the green ora was coming from the girl who was terrified out of her mind.
By the time I was done journaling the rain had slowed to a light trickle, the sun was up, but it was still a dull grey outside, that’s just Seattle. I was starting to feel sick to my stomach from that blackness. You see, when a prophet (or at least this prophet) sees an ora, he not only sees it he tastes it, breaths it, and feels it. That black ora felt slimy, had a putrid sent, and tasted like ash. It isn’t easy being a prophet.
After taking a long shower I decided to get dressed and go on a walk. Putting on my coat and cap I opened the door and there before me was Rachael.
Hey, I was expecting you. Is that coffee for me?
Rachael frowned and forked over the coffee.
Thanks, that a paycheck for me too? Smiling, I held out my hand.
No it’s not your paycheck it’s a donation to the church that gives you your stipend and house to live in, Rachael said.
Awe, why can’t I handle my own income?
Because you will go out and take advantage of the poor souls who think they can take your income.
I will not. I would never do such a thing, it’s not my fault the Lord smites anyone who tries to cheat me.
That’s the other thing about being a prophet, you know the term “angels watching over me,” well those dudes are no joke when it comes to prophets.
Whatever.. Said Rachael.
So, is that all you are here for, to give me an apology, coffee, and payment for not helping?
Oh, shut up Ben! I’m here because you were right about the guy.
What guy?
The guy who burned up, disintegrated, fell apart, whatever it was that happened to him.
Oh, that guy. Well, now what?
Hope you took a picture of him before there was nothing left.
I want to take you back to the scene since the mess is gone.
Well why didn’t you say so, lets go.
Pushing past Rachael and climbing into the car.
Hey! Be careful getting into the car there is a k-9 unit in there and he hates strangers! Rushing over to the patrol car.
“I like your dog.” Rubbing the dog’s tummy, “that’s a good boy!”
Rachael just starred for a few seconds, and climbed into the car. “I don’t understand why you don’t get a pet Ben.”
Why would I get a pet, I’d never be able to spend time with it when you drop by every day to wisp me away? Besides I’ve got you for company Rachael, what more could I ever ask for?
Awe, you’re so sweet.. Smart aleck!
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The Many Adventures of Ben Morgan, Chapter 4

Chapter 4.
I stepped out of the pouring rain and on to my stoop. Looking up and out I thought to myself, “the sun should be up by now and it’s still black as night.” Turning away from the darkening storm I pressed my palm on the door just above the worn handle that barely worked. The door swung open and I was greeted by my warm fireplace and cozy house. My books stood neatly on the bookshelf across the room with the spines smiling at me with an about face posture. I didn’t have any pet to greet me, but that’s okay, I’ve never felt comfortable with raising an animal in the city. I do miss the companionship though.
I hung my coat up on my old coat tree and kicked off my wet shoes, then immediately stuffed my feet into some cozy slippers desperately waiting for my return. I hung my hat and reached for my navy blue robe when a flash of light filled my vision, and the next thing I felt was my head hitting the floor.
All of the sudden I was soaking wet from head to sopping toes. Looking up I could see that I was standing in front of the college dorm building. What’s that thumping? Thump thump..tha.thump..tha.thump..tha.thump… like a wave crashing over me an aura of black burst from the building, then a scream. Barely able to stand and stumbling forward I peered up onto the floor where the horror scene took place. All the lights were out in the building, but that one room seemed to bleed darkness.
Reaching the front door of the building I grabbed the handle to open the door but it wouldn’t budge. Screaming in frustration a thunderclap shattered the glass and out of fear and desperation I bolted in the building and started for the stairs. Where is everyone, where are those gamers? I skipped the elevator and went straight for the stairs, technology doesn’t get along with me when I’m so stricken.
Sprinting up the stairs I slipped and bashed my shin and elbow on the cement. Out of shock and adrenaline I pushed on. Reaching the third floor my senses started to kick in again. Now limping down the hall I noticed no people were present.
Where is everyone? This place should be packed full of people rushing about.
Approaching the dorm room from the crime scene I could see a black and green aura pulsing and oozing from behind and under the door. Oddly enough the door wasn’t locked, and so I entered. I couldn’t see anything until a flash of lightening pierced the darkness. There was the girl curled up on the couch, knees in her arms, crying. The young man was on the floor with a black knife lodged in his stomach. There was no blood, just darkness. Thunderclap! Boom!

The Many Adventures of Ben Morgan, Chapter 3

Chapter 3:
While Rachael was speaking to the officer guard, I silently turned toward the sobbing young woman and closed my eyes. I focused on her voice and her aura. Even though my eyes were closed I could pick up on the aura’s and emotions of everyone in the near facility. Back when I was a younger prophet I used to pick up on everyone’s emotions and aura’s from within a few miles, and it would nearly kill me from the shear weight of it all. Now a days I have it under control and can can focus my senses to just a few feet around me.
I could feel the frustration in Rachael as she struggled to convince the tired officers to let me in, but the young woman stood out to me the most. Her ora was dark and full of mixed emotions. You see, aura’s are funny things, for the most part they are one color. Rachael’s aura was currently red with frustration, while the officer was yellow with fear, but the young lady was a spectrum of fear, anger, sorrow, and a few others I couldn’t quite identify. Oh, and it doesn’t help that I’m colorblind, but ores are a different thing altogether. I opened my eyes just before Rachael grabbed my arm and pulled me into the crime scene. I starred at the young woman as I was drug past the guard officers.
She had a flushed face with tears staining her cheeks. Her short hair was disheveled and a mess. It was as though she had it nice earlier in the evening but had been messed with all of the activity. I felt bad for her because she had the face of someone who had seen death. She will never be the same again and will never forget this night.
When I finally turned and looked around the dorm room I was struck with a tremendous sense of darkness. My eyes were naturally drawn to the body on the floor for the living room. The young man, or what was left of a young man, was spread out across the floor. His body was not whole but detached from the torso and the hips. There was no blood but intense burn marks that went straight through the man’s stomach. It didn’t appear as though there was a struggle, or even any external burn marks on the ground or anywhere else. What could have caused such a thing?
Rachael turned to me and asked we what I thought. I turned back to her and said, “My stomach isn’t this strong, I need to leave. Please bring me back tomorrow when the body is gone.”
Okay, we’ll have the body removed sometime in the next day.
Err, it won’t last that long.
What?!
Yup, the body is burning up and will be gone completely in the next few hours.
How do you know that?
Just look at it, clearly it’s been touched by some mystical power that burns till the victim is gone, for good.
What sort of thing can do that?
Any number of things, but I’ll tell you more tomorrow I gotta get out of here before I loose my breakfast. It would be a good idea to keep that young woman around, by the way.
Oh, don’t you tell me how to do my job Ben! How do we stop the deterioration so we can examine the body?
You can’t. He’s gone.

The Many Adventures of Ben Morgan, Chapter 2

Chapter 2:
We pulled up to one of those newer apartment complexes in the university district. It was still pouring rain and I was starting to get a little hesitant because Rachael had already finished her coffee. When I looked out the window there were three police vehicles and one ambulance.
“Well at least there’s only one injured person.”
Rachael looked at me with a flat stare and exited the vehicle. I followed after with my umbrella, coat flapping behind me.
While Rachael talked to the police I could sense the tension in the air. I was getting way to anxious. I needed to calm down otherwise lightening might strike.
You see being a prophet doesn’t really come in handy when we get upset. Often times when we get upset abnormal things happen with the weather and the shear nature of things can begin to change. Thats why I decided to live in Seattle because the weather is always changing here, makes me feel more welcome and unnoticed. There have been times in my past where entire earthquakes had occurred because I was having a bad day, but that was in my youth and I didn’t quite know my triggers then. I’ve avoided California since those days. Now a days things like  heavy rain or strong gusts of wind would occur when I got too upset, noting too bad.
Tonight something felt off about the building we were about to enter. There was a darkness upon the building, not just because it was 3:45AM. Looking up at the building I could see lights on in nearly all the rooms, but still there was a darkness coming from the building. As a prophet I could sense things like this, mostly from experience though. Light is what most of us prophets seek and crave.
Rachael lead the way into the building. It was nice inside with a recreation room, big screen TV’s, and furniture strung about in a very postmodern fashion. There was even students playing some sort of video game with no regard for what was happening around them. We took the elevator to the sixth floor. Rachael asked me if I had a strong stomach, I took that as a bad sign, “sure I do.” The elevator opened and Rachael lead the way down the hall to a room guarded by two police men and marked off with tape. There was a young woman in the hall sobbing as a detective attempted to question her. I got really quiet as I opened my senses and stepped into the room. I could hear the sobs and the rain.

The Many Adventures of Ben Morgan, Chapter 1

Chapter 1:
3 AM, RING!! RING!!! RING!!!!!!! I lay there on my worn out Good Will couch and extend my arm to the coffee table searching for the phone. Flip, what!? “Is Mr. Morgan available?” No, no he is not! Clap, and I placed the worn flip phone back on the table. Arg.. telemarketers know no sleep!.. I pull myself off the beat up couch and make my way to the bathroom, “Dang full bladder..” After, my early morning wakeup call I work my way back to the couch and just as I sit down BANG, BANG, BANG!!
“Thats it this better be good,” I think to myself. I pull on my dark blue robe and black slippers, and answer the door.
Opening the door I see standing before me Detective Rachael Thompson sopping wet head to toe, standing in the rain.
“Yawn, why what can I do for you this fine morning Detective?”
Cut the crap Ben, and let me in out of this rain.
She then shoves past me and flips on the light before I even have a chance to reply.
“Why sure you may come in…”
“Make yourself at home while I go and make myself more presentable.”
My plaid pj’s and robe didn’t seem like they covered me quite well enough as Rachael’s green eyes could pierce stone. I went into my room, scratching my head, and started to slip on some jeans and a t-shirt when I heard the coffee pot a brewing. Hmm, must be a rough night, Rachael isn’t a big fan of coffee. I have only seen her drink it during the worst of cases. I guess we are going somewhere, so I slipped on my black socks with gold toes, then my waterproof brown hiking boots.
When I appeared again Rachael was standing by the door with two cups of coffee with lids. “Get your coat on we are going to check out a crime scene I’ll fill you in on the way.”
I nodded grabbed my Mariners baseball cap, trench coat, and umbrella cane. She starred at me like a fool for grabbing my umbrella.
“What I don’t like getting wet?”
“You have lived here for how long and you’re still not used to the rain?”
“No, I love the rain, I just don’t like getting wet all the time.”
I said flatly, and opened the door. Rachael shook her head and stepped out into the puring rain.
I opened my black umbrella and offered her a place to stand, she only handed me my coffee and fished out her keys as we walked to her police issued Dodge Charger. As we got settled into the vehicle she asked me, “How did you know that we were going somewhere?” I turned to her and smiled, “I’m a prophet what can I say?” She sniffed, started the car, took a sip of coffee, grimaced, and turned on the emergency lights. We drove off into the night with the pouring rain.

The Many Adventures of Ben Morgan: Introduction

Introduction:

Hi, my name is Benjamin Morgan (but you can call me Ben) and I am a Prophet of the Lord, for hire.

You may be wondering what that means, exactly. Well it is a long story and I don’t have time to explain it all too you here, but my ad in the paper says:
Benjamin Morgan Prophet of the Lord
Services: Paranormal investigation, Missing persons, Marriages, Funerals, and Baptisms.
Needless to say I don’t get hired all that often but I do get the occasional case with the local law enforcement agencies. They call me in whenever they simply can’t explain what is going on, I’m basically their last ditch effort or mark of shame. In all honesty I think they only call me in because of one person, Rachael Thompson. She is the head of the special investigation devision.
 I rent a small two bedroom parsonage house on Capitol Hill in Seattle Washington. The house is neatly placed withing twenty five feet of a small brick church that has seen its better days in the past, but with todays society the church is in a downward spiral. I suppose that may have something to do with the reason why I am a prophet but even I don’t know why I am the way I am. Perhaps I am like that old brick church, something that has seen better days and is a dying breed that could still come back.

Grief

It’s as though I died

but I’am still right here

the sun it’s in my eyes

I am wounded all over

but I am not bleeding

The pain it washes over me

What am I to do now

I feel so very lost

I am going to miss you.