I’m taking part in the flash fiction challenge over at Terrible Minds to write a “Knock Knock, Who’s There?” piece. Half-cheating with this, as I had the opening few lines written before Christmas and didn’t know where to go. Still not sure where to take it if I were to make it longer, but sometimes I like ambiguity in a small package.
They had the package delivered to the home of Pastor Ben Merrit, at 6:15 p.m. on December 24th, minutes before the pastor and his family would leave for service.
There was a knock on the door and the good pastor answered. No one was there, but on the step sat a small, red box, and a white tag that said “Peace.” He flipped it over and read: “To Pastor Merritt & Family. Love, The Devoted.”
They had no real understanding of love. But They did observe how that particular human emotion seemed to spread at Christmas.
“Who’s it from, hon?” his wife asked.
“Not sure,” said Ben. He opened the box to find a metal cylinder with three holes. “Not sure what it is either.”
As he held it up, a puff of green mist floated up his nose.
“What …?” he said, and instantly felt a warm tingle in his face, spreading through his head. Then he heard a voice, speaking from within.
“Greetings, Ben. We are one with you now. Embrace your beloved so we may grow.”
“Ben? Are you alright,” his wife asked.
“It’s the angels! Angels!”
He hugged his wife tight, his breath seeping out his mouth and up her nose.
“I feel them! It’s glorious!” she said. “Kids, come!”
Joe, the eldest, was the last to join the embrace. He’d never been a true believer, and when the voice inside spoke, he shrieked, “It’s not angels. It’s something…else.”
But it was a lost warning. They had already begun.