William Stark is not the hero type, at least not in his eyes. Awkward and anxious, mental illness and a confused faith keep him from loving the girl of his dreams, and himself. A lack of self-esteem takes him to the depths of hell (literally) to fight an intimate battle between fear and faith.

Will wants nothing more than to feel normal, but when you're from a town nicknamed, The Devil’s Rendition of Sedona Arizona, it's not meant to be. Famous for attracting fire and brimstone preachers, occult psychics, and the fringes of society, Millersville is hiding a history that’s anything but traditional.

With the guidance of a deeply spiritual school psychologist who may be keeping secrets of his own, Will learns to balance his mental health symptoms and work towards normalcy, which is about to be short lived.

A team of paranormal investigators have their eyes on the reluctant Will and his unique abilities. What isn't clear is their deeper purpose for him. Aided with technology developed by the group, Gateway, a Resurrectionist crosses into a world of lost spirits and guides them to the light. William's calling, his purpose, is laid before him. He must fight to conquer his demons or risk becoming one of them, falling into darkness for all eternity.

The Resurrectionist

Scared as hell souls ran in every direction creating a tornado of black chaos. Hunters mounted beasts of horrible disgust, chasing newly arrived spirits with barbed whips and heavy chain. Torn cloth worn like bandanas across the face shielded the hunter’s ugliness, yielding an air of mysterious horror. Allison watched paralyzed as a whip cracked and wrapped itself around the neck of a fleeing soul. The hunter reared back on its mounted beast pulling the damned spirit hard to the ground. 


"Run! Don't stop!" Monika's voice sounded in our ears. "Head for those rocks!" 


A rock formation jetted out in the distance. I grabbed Allison's hand, put my head down and ran only to fall face first, cracking my chin on a sharp rock. Blood splattered the rock as an excruciating jolt shot up my leg. I rolled over to see a dismounted hunter standing over me, a morning star mace with a slightly crooked handle hung by his side, the source of the blinding pain in my foot. 


Old Friends