Phantom

The world had grown volatile. Shifts in the climate were no longer subtle, they’d become seismic. Millersville was a ghost town except for a few remaining Puritans. People sensed it like a bad omen. They'd had enough of the darkness and this godforsaken town.

I floated up and down the vacant streets, an eerie chill surrounding my spirit, avoiding where I needed to be. Rain intensified as gutters became small rivers. The deserted streets fell pitch black after the power had been knocked out, flash lightning the only source of illumination. I heard crying from behind.

"I warned you, Stark." A weeping voice sounded from the ground next to me. I turned to see a bloodied Reverend Channing sitting on the curb, his back against a bus bench.

“You got out.” I said.

“You opened the door.” Channing's voice was soft. "You judged me wrong," his voice falling to a faint whisper.” The Reverend coughed a mixture of blood and black. I remained silent, unable to respond.