Brother Culp: A Narrative Fiction

“There, there now,” he said while placing his hands down low to the ground.“Yer not to worry. It is I, Brother Culp. Would ya mind shifting so's we can talk.”

I quickly returned to my human form to discuss the night's events with the crazy, would-be preacher. Earlist began wiping and smearing blood on my chest and face. “This here blood will protect chou. Just like the Hebrews were protected in Egypt. Your pharaoh will allow you to pass by without harm,” Earlist explained.

He began walking me through his insidious scheme, and revisiting the fresh memory of the outlandish massacre in which he had performed in the early hours of the evening. Earlist appeared to be self-inspired with all that he had accomplished. It seems that he had snuck

How she had jabbed my arm with the needle, and it had broken off in my skin as I pulled away.

“Well that tears it son. You've gotta get out of here. Get fer away. As fer as ye can. And take anyone or anything that ye cherish with ye. He'll be coming fer ye soon,” said Earlist. “What? Who? Why do I have to go? Who will be coming for me? What are you talking about,” I asked.

“Preston, boy... His blood runs through ye. Now he can see where yer at and what yer doin'. We don't have time to talk about it son. You've gotta go. The further away ye get the harder it'll be fer him to find ye. But son, eventually he will. Yer in some serious danger. You've gotta go, and I mean go now! Run boy, and don't stop,” he shouted as he turned and shifted. Earlist took off toward the woods as if he were running from the black plague.

How could I run without knowing where I'm going? And what about Natalie? He will surely use her to get to me. I couldn't let that happen. I had to go after her before it was too late. I ran as fast as I could. I had to get to her, so I could get her out of here before she became another one of Preston's victims. Before he ruined the things about her that were