D.R.E.X. – Blackout
E-book ISBN-13: 978-1-927580-52-3
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Kindle ISBN-13: 978-1-927580-53-0
D.R.E.X. – Blackout – After finding his family murdered, Matthew Burke is arrested and sentenced to life in prison. The next day he is mysteriously released and given a briefcase of money.
Needing answers, Matthew finds a pile of old documents in his house and discovers his wife was once part of an organization called D.R.E.X, who were responsible for hunting and killing supernatural creatures. Even though D.R.E.X had been shut down for years, his wife was murdered just after she tried to reach them.
Matthew reluctantly joins with the remnants of her old organization and investigates a new problem arising in France.
But the more he discovers, the more he realizes how few people he can trust…
What they’re saying about D.R.E.X. – Blackout:
Jacobs swallowed a mouthful of whiskey in his office. He wasn’t too far from his home. Heck, he practically lived right down the block, but somehow he couldn’t muster the energy to walk over there. The house was too big for him now…too full of bad memories. He leaned back in his chair and released a content sigh as the liquid ran through his body. If he passed out here, it wouldn’t be the first time.
Jacobs opened his eyes and stared at the cross nailed to the wall at the end of his office. The entire church was quiet, except for the wood creaking as a breeze pushed against the old building. “God,” he said, but it was full of scorn. He could still hear the sound of his congregation singing today, a bunch of scattered, old voices completely out of tune. He swallowed another mouthful of whiskey.
‘I should consider another job,’ Jacobs thought, surprising himself. He had been a minister for the past twenty years. He had spent an eternity preaching here. Not to mention that the church gave him a good, fat paycheck at the end of each month. If he quit now, what would he do? He shook his head as he helped himself to another mouthful. No, this would do for—
“Excuse me, Father,” a voice said respectfully.
Jacobs screamed and almost fell backward out of the chair. He definitely didn’t hear or see a man standing behind him. He appeared to be in his mid-thirties, but a black cowboy hat covered most of his features. Jacobs could see enough that the man had brown stubble.
“I didn’t mean to disturb your drinking,” he added, with no hint of amusement.
Quickly, Jacobs put a cap on his whiskey. “Yes, well…after hours,” he stammered. “What may I do for you, my child?”
“I heard your sermon. It was interesting,” he said. “As it says in the bible, “Behold, I will cast her into a bed, and them that commit adultery with her into great tribulation, except they repent of their deeds. And I will kill her children with death; and all the churches shall know that I am he which searcheth the reins and hearts; and I will give unto every one of you according to your works.”
Jacobs nodded. “Revelations, two twenty-two.”
Even though the hat covered the man’s face, Jacobs was sure the man was watching him closely. “Is that what you did with your children, Father?”
Jacobs glanced up, outraged. “Who—”
The man had disappeared. Suddenly, he heard a scraping noise below, in the chapel. Maybe he was so drunk he was starting to hallucinate? It wasn’t in the realm of impossibilities. He took the bottle of whiskey and walked down the stairwell.
Jacobs opened the door, but didn’t see anyone. Just an empty room. He shivered as he realized he had left one of the windows propped open, a last-ditch attempt to cure the stuffiness in the room. It didn’t prevent most people from yawning during his sermon.
“The bible was created by man. And man is flawed. Don’t you agree?” the man’s voice echoed around the chapel. Jacobs whirled around, and saw him standing in the shadows.
“No…no, you’re not real!” Jacobs whispered, taking a quick shot of whiskey. “I’m drunk. You’re just an imaginary friend.” For some reason, the thought struck him as incredibly funny, and he laughed.
“Or maybe I’m CGI or a YouTube sensation, is that right?” the man asked. “Every miracle can be explained in this day and age.” He turned around and walked toward the cross. “You know, I pity the time when your Lord Jesus will actually be reborn. He will be met with scorn and ridicule. Isn’t that right, Father? Isn’t that how you feel?”
Jacobs glared suspiciously through blurry eyes. He really wanted to see under the man’s hat. “Church is closed, mister. Get out.” He pointed to the door.
“Or you’ll do what?” Suddenly the man stood behind him. He laughed, a booming, horrible laugh, which didn’t seem quite human.
“Get out, you fucker!” Jacobs swore, and threw the bottle at him. It went straight through and landed on the tile with a loud clatter. “Who—what are you? Some kind of daemon?”
The man chuckled. “No. Not a daemon, not an angel. But where I come from, I used to be a King.”