HOME | DD

Description
Donovan couldn’t keep his mind cleared long enough to meditate successfully. Ever since a friend of his father’s came to the building, everyone was wound ever so tight, him being included. And why not? They had possibly found a Puppet of the Evil One, one of many puppets that are supposed to exist. And nearly in their own backyard of all places. Everyone had a sinking feeling that one was going to be revealed soon. However, that meant that the Evil One was gathering strength, and that was not good news to anyone’s ears. So there was excitement, but also fear hanging in the air like a ghastly vulture awaiting an erstwhile traveler to veer off the path.

After a few more seconds of attempts to clear his mind of all thought, frustration took hold of him. Donovan grunted angrily, slammed his fists upon his thighs and got to his feet. Perhaps this evening wasn’t a good evening to be meditating. Although he was taught to keep striving for what is needed, he was also taught that there are times when one must rest and try again. No use in straining until you hurt yourself. He took a step towards his bedroom door when his legs collapsed and his body began to twitch as he hit the floor. His vision faded and then came back, only he was not seeing the floor or his bedroom. He was having a violent vision. He saw images briefly as another one replaced the previous, but he was able to remember and store each one in memory as they shot at him like a DVD player skipping chapters. The attack lasted for less than a minute, but to Donovan it felt like time had come to a halt. His limbs stilled and his muscles relaxed. His eyes, which had been rolled back in his head, came forward. He was covered in a thin layer of sweat, as if he had just run a marathon. He sat for a moment, catching his breath and recalled the images that had been shown to him. He saw two people get murdered in a most brutal way, followed by the image of a large and disfigured man pinning a smaller young man down by the back of the neck, and then he saw neon blue light shoot from the body of the young man who was somehow levitating. He examined the images again, looking for details that would help him to better understand them. His brow furrowed as he concentrated, then softened and then shot up as his eyes became wide. He knew what all this meant, and it was not good.

He shot to his feet, his legs wobbly but able to support him and exited his bedroom in a haste. He rushed past a few people in the hallway, some of them shooting him looks of confusion or concern. He had no time to stop and chat so he ignored them. Donovan stopped at a door located at the end of the hallway, on the right side to be exact. He didn’t bother to knock and barged into the room. It was his father’s study. Within the study was only his father, Gilbert and his father’s old friend, Robert. Both appeared to be going over some documents spread out upon the desk. Both looked up as Donovan entered and both could clearly see that he was distressed. “What is it?” Gilbert queried.

Donovan lowered his eyes from his father to the forest green carpet, as if ashamed of having entered the study without knocking first. “I had a vision.” He replied, his voice dropped.

“What did you see?”

“It wasn’t good. Frank and Ellenore are dead.”
A look of alarm swept across his Gilbert’s face. “What of your brother?”

Donovan shook his head. “He wasn’t killed. You were right about him.”

Gilbert nodded. “I thought I had felt his powers awaken just a few minutes ago, but wasn’t able to fully verify. It is his birthday, and around the same time your powers awoke.”

Robert, who had been standing silently and observing the conversation, finally interjected. “Did you also see Vastago? Was he in your vision?” He asked, unable to mask his anxiety. It was he who had brought the news of the possible puppet to the others, even though he was not a member of this society that exists for the sole purpose of keeping the evil that coexists with the good from concurring this world.

“I saw a tall and ugly dude with a distorted face.” Donovan replied, shrugging. Robert’s face did the answering, rather than his mouth. It was official. The Puppet was verified and now had a name. However, the name didn’t matter to Donovan. It could have been called Martha Stewart for all he cared. The point was that the rumors were true, and that was even more scary than knowing a name.

Donovan turned towards the door, but felt the firm hand of his father upon his shoulder. “Where are you going?” Gilbert asked.

“I’m going to get my brother.” He thought this would make Gilbert release his grip on his shoulder, but his hand remained where it had dropped. Even though Donovan was twenty-four years of age and experienced enough to handle himself in situations concerning the supernatural realm, his father still at times treated him as if he were still a novice.

Gilbert’s grip on his shoulder began to relax, but still remained. “You cannot kill The Puppet.”

A heavy sigh of annoyance escaped from between pursed lips. “I know. He’s probably gone anyhow. It’s Quinn I’m worried about.”

With a nod, his hand was removed from the shoulder of his eldest son. “Be careful. Minions were more than likely sent after him.”

Donovan nodded and exited the room, but not through the door. Robert watched with wonderment as his friend’s son headed towards the door, but he was rapidly becoming transparent. By the time he reached the door, he was no longer there. Although he had experienced many strange things since he met Gilbert so long ago, Robert could never truly get used to it all. After the initial shock wore off, he turned to his friend and asked, “Will he be okay?”

“I have taught him well,” Gilbert replied, rubbing his chin slowly. It was something he did when he was nervous or deep in thought. “It’s Quinn I’m worried about.”  Would Donovan get to him in time? Would he be able to comprehend all the information that would be revealed to him if he is brought back alive? Gilbert knew nothing for certain, and that was what made him nervous.