Read The Revelation Chronicles Page 3


  “He is the mysterious, the magical, the fascinating, the fantastical. The one and only: Great Standeval!”

  And with that, he swept his arm forward in presentation as he backed towards the rear of the stage. The large velvet curtains slowly parted, and a handsome man in his mid-thirties walked forth through a veil of mist. Allison, along with several other audience members, gasped at the sight. He didn’t dress as one would expect for a magician. Instead, he wore dark loose slacks, expensive shiny loafers, and a red silk shirt unbuttoned to the sternum. His cuff-links were solid gold encrusted with diamonds. To be honest, he looked more like the lead singer of Coldplay than a magician.

  In a deep smooth baritone, he addressed the audience.

  “Good evening, ladies and gentlemen. I am Standeval. I don’t know whether you came here tonight seeking magic card tricks, or to see someone sawed in half. Or, maybe even the timeless favorite of pulling a bunny from a top hat.”

  The audience roared as they recalled the earlier disaster.

  “Well, I am sorry to inform you that none of those things will you see tonight,” he continued. “I am no magician or conjurer of cheap tricks and thrills. I am a master illusionist who will neither attempt to trick nor deceive you. I guarantee everything that you see tonight will be exciting and hard to believe, yet it will be 100% real, 100% authentic. No trap doors, no hidden wires and such. Illusion is belief motivated by the realization of desire. Desire that all of us have inside. I will prove it to you tonight.”

  Chapter 9

  While he casually walked the edge of the stage, Standeval scanned the audience.

  “I will need a volunteer for my first demonstration.”

  Enthusiastic hands shot up throughout the pavilion. He pointed to a guy a few rows behind us.

  “You sir, would you please come to the stage?”

  The zealous and willing guy rushed from his seat and up the stairs to stand before The Great Standeval.

  “What’s your name, sir?”

  “Edgar Fulton, Carver College Class of 2012!” he said, pumping his fist in the air feverishly to the delight of the crowd.

  “Well Edgar, it seems you are a very confident and charismatic gentleman, are you not?”

  “I like to party, if that’s what you’re asking,” he responded, again to the cheers and glee of the crowd.

  “Do you believe in hypnotism, Edgar?”

  “Can’t say that I do. I don’t believe someone can make you do something against your will.”

  “Ah, but hypnotism is NOT against your will, Edgar. The line between illusion and hypnotism is a fine one. It is not what someone makes you do; it is what you believe. Do you mind if we give it a try?”

  Edgar shrugged his shoulders. “Sure, why not?”

  Standeval pulled a small gold medallion attached to a chain from his pants pocket.

  “Someone bring me a chair please,” he beckoned. A chair was immediately brought to the stage and set in place.

  “Have a seat Edgar.” Standeval dangled the medallion in the man’s face, back and forth, as he spoke.

  “The mind is a very powerful tool. Man has yet to tap into the wonders and potential that is hidden there,” Standeval said, addressing the audience, but maintaining his attention on Edgar.

  “Focus on the medallion. Now I want you to count backwards from ten.”

  As Edgar began to count aloud, Standeval leaned in close to his ear and whispered something. Once Edgar reached the count of one, he sat motionless in the chair, facing the crowd.

  “Now, what would you like to see Edgar do?” Standeval asked as he addressed the audience once more.

  All manner of things was shouted, but a shrill voice near the front was the obvious winner.

  “He’s a dog, make him act like one!”

  The audience burst into laughter.

  “Hell hath no fury like a woman scorned,” joked Standeval. He leaned forward and whispered in Edgar’s ear again, who immediately dropped to the floor and began crawling about on his hands and knees, panting and barking. Gasps of disbelief and excited whispers emanated throughout the crowded pavilion as Edgar followed Standeval’s every command, from rolling over to playing fetch.

  Allison grabbed my arm and pulled me closer.

  “Can you believe this, Charlie?”

  I could feel her body slightly tremble against mine. I smiled to myself as we continued to watch the action on stage. Freddy glanced over, saw Allison and I almost cuddled together, and gave an affirmative nod and wink.

  On stage, Standeval spoke for a while about the wonders of hypnotism, illusions and the power of suggestion versus the power of belief. All the while, Edgar followed behind him with the playful eagerness of a Labrador Retriever. Finally, Standeval released him from the hypnosis with a simple snap of his fingers.

  “I told you it wouldn’t work,” Edgar snickered as he walked down the steps of the stage. The audience laughed and heckled to hysterical proportions, at which point he paused and frowned, looking appropriately puzzled on the way back to his seat.

  “And now that I have your complete and undivided attention, who would like to give it a try next?” Standeval asked, looking over the audience. There were fewer hands willing to volunteer this time around.

  “Hey buddy, why don’t you volunteer?” Freddy asked, looking over at me with a wry smile.

  “Oh, I don’t think so,” I replied. There was no way on earth I would ever volunteer for something like this.

  Standeval started to make his way from the stage, up the rows of seats, looking back and forth from one audience member to the next. Finally, his gaze rested upon me, and I froze as solid as a statue, hoping and praying that if I was as still as possible he wouldn’t notice me and move on.

  But, he didn’t.

  He moved closer.

  Chapter 10

  “You sir, you appear to be a fine gentleman. One who is brave, dashing and courageous. Surely you wouldn’t mind participating in a harmless display of the power of the mind? And I am certain this beautiful young woman beside you would undoubtedly appreciate your act of civility, as will I,” he said, taking Allison’s hand into his own and kissing it lightly.

  “Oh, no…I’m not interested,” I managed to say.

  “Come on Charlie,” pleaded Allison.

  Now what was I supposed to do? I couldn’t just say no to Allison, could I? And, she’d apparently fallen for his charm. I’d definitely have to do something about that.

  “Well, OK,” I said finally as I rose to my feet.

  “Alright, we have ourselves a volunteer!” bellowed Standeval to the delight of the crowd.

  I followed him back to the stage and took a seat in the empty chair. The bright white lights were blinding, and I was unable to see anyone clearly in the audience, which was probably a good thing as I was nervous beyond reason.

  “And what is your name, fine sir?”

  “Charlie.”

  “Well thank you Charlie for volunteering, and I promise to take good care of you.”

  The crowd laughed at his decidedly poor attempt at humor, in my opinion of course.

  “So, now that you have witnessed the basic principles of hypnotism and the power of the mind in action, Charlie and I will perform another feat for your entertainment. Are you ready, Charlie?”

  “As ready as I’ll ever be,” I answered, trying to remain calm, but failing miserably.

  “And what creative ideas can this wonderful audience come up with for my new good friend, Charlie?”

  There were all manner of ideas submitted, from the humorous to the completely reprehensible; no stone seemed to be left unturned. From near the back of the pavilion came a voice I recognized almost immediately.

  “He’s a freak! Make him think he’s an alien! He should feel right at home!” The audience yet again burst into raucous laughter.

  Matt Mitchell. Once again, he’d taken advantage of an opportunity to embarrass me in front of Allison. Yo
u see, like me, Matt also had a crush on her since way back in grade school. And though the two were an item once, she had chosen to break it off. Matt had always suspected I had something to do with it, and he'd held a grudge ever since.

  “No, no, wait everyone,” Standeval pleaded with the audience to settle down. “I do believe this may actually be a good idea, if Charlie doesn’t have a problem with it.”

  He gave me a questioning stare as though he were awaiting my permission.

  “Let’s do it.”

  I wasn’t going to let Matt Mitchell get the best of me if I could help it. Besides, I didn’t really believe in all this hypnotism nonsense anyway. I decided to play along for the entertainment value and get off the stage as fast as I could, with my pride hopefully still intact.

  “Now, same as before, Charlie. I want you to count backwards from ten while focusing on my voice,” Standeval instructed. He removed the medallion and chain from his pocket again. As the golden jewelry dangled slowly from side to side in front of me, I focused on Standeval’s voice and began to count backwards.

  “Ten, nine, eight, seven, six….”

  Now, what happened next was later told to me by Freddy, but I will recount most of it for you. Apparently, as I finished counting, Standeval leaned in to whisper something into my ear, just as he had done earlier with Edgar. But, as he turned to face the audience, faulty wiring near the stage unexpectedly began to spark, setting the curtain ablaze.

  Chaos ensued.

  Screaming and shouting filled the pavilion as people rushed in fear towards the exit. Freddy and Allison came to my rescue as I continued to sit motionless in the chair upon the fiery stage. Standeval had disappeared and was mysteriously nowhere to be found. The fire department arrived just as I was ushered outside and quickly brought the raging fire under control. A firefighter EMT tried to assist me in regaining consciousness. By Freddy’s sketchy account, I resembled one of the catatonic mental patients from the Brad Pitt movie, 12 Monkeys. Finally, after several minutes, I was coherent and thankfully back to normal.

  Or so I thought.

  Chapter 11

  Back in my dorm room hours later, I tried to focus on my homework assignment. I didn’t want to dwell on what I’d just been through. It was a freak occurrence that I was all too happy to put behind me.

  10:42 P.M.

  I’d only completed about two paragraphs of the first page with four more pages to go. But now, for some reason, I amazingly found the assignment to be less challenging. It was as though I knew exactly where to focus my energy and efforts. The information just seemed to come to me. I felt different, as if somehow changed. But exactly how or why, I had no idea.

  After a couple more hours of intensive research and typing, I finally completed the assignment. I felt rather satisfied with the finished result and smiled to myself in triumph. I checked the time.

  11:38 P.M.

  I made a mental note to replace the broken alarm clock and gathered my books and papers together for class the next morning. Then I flopped across my bed, exhausted from the day’s events. I left Freddy a sticky note, so he could wake me in the morning and ensure I’d be on time to turn the paper in. He’d gone out to party with some friends after seeing me safely back to the dorm and hadn’t returned yet.

  I closed my eyes, fell almost instantly to sleep, and began to dream. A vivid, detailed dream of beautiful lands with sweeping landscapes and beautiful sky blue rivers that seemed far away, yet strangely familiar somehow. It was all breathtaking. I could hear the soft elegant voice of a woman gently calling my name. Without warning, the dream grew dark and unsettling, with images of lands ravaged, war, and death. I heard the screams of the same woman who’d called my name earlier and sprang awake, drenched in a cold sweat.

  Freddy was staring at me intently from across the room. Blinding sunlight beamed through the half-drawn curtain.

  “Are you OK, Charlie?”

  “Yeah, I’m fine,” I said. I wiped my brow and looked around. “What time is it?”

  “8:45A.M. You sure you’re OK?”

  “I said I’m fine. Why do you keep asking?” I replied, perturbed by his tone.

  “Calm down, buddy. Only reason I ask is that you seemed to of had a rough night. I heard you talking in your sleep, but I couldn’t understand what you were saying. Sounded like you were speaking in tongues or something.”

  He chuckled, but I wasn’t moved.

  “I was just concerned, that’s all.”

  I slid to the edge of the bed and placed my head in my hands.

  “I don’t know. I had a really crazy dream last night. I mean, I know I was dreaming, but it all felt so real.”

  I ran a hand through my disheveled hair.

  “What about?”

  I recalled my dream in detail for Freddy.

  “Don’t worry about it, Charlie. It’s probably due to the hypnosis. I wish I could get my hands on that creep Standeval. And to think, I was one of his biggest fans.”

  I took a deep breath as I realized he was probably right. I had just been the unlucky recipient of a failed hypnosis from a shady illusionist. And besides, it made perfect sense that I would have crazy dreams related to it.

  “Maybe I should go to the campus clinic just in case.”

  “Not a bad idea. Oh, and by the way, you should get yourself a wristwatch too,” Freddy said. He turned on the TV and began to channel surf.

  “Why is that?” I asked, confused.

  “So you can stop depending on me for the time. Heck, I already bought you a new alarm clock. I got tired of seeing that pathetic look on your face every time you were late for class. But, I’m not buying you a watch, too. Last I checked, we weren’t going steady.”

  The words hit me like a ton of bricks. I took a much closer look at the alarm clock next to my bed. It wasn’t the same one I’d purchased weeks earlier at the flea market. Freddy had in fact replaced my old clock with a new one. But, how was the time incorrect last night? Or had I just imagined it? There was no possible way I could have completed a five page report in less than an hour. My hands started to tremble.

  Suddenly, there was a soft knock at the door. I walked over to open it, but no one was there. The hallway was completely deserted. On the floor at my feet, I found a plain white envelope, addressed to me. I scooped the envelope up suspiciously and opened it, slowly reading its contents:

  We know who you are Charles Reese and what you’re capable of. It is time you learned of your destiny and why you are here.

  Chapter 12

  “Who is it, Charlie?” Freddy asked from his seat on the couch. When I didn’t answer, but simply stood there with a dumfounded look on my face, he got up and walked over, giving me a puzzled look. Then, noticing the piece of paper, he calmly pried it from my grasp and read it.

  “Who left this? Did you see where it came from?”

  I didn’t respond.

  “Is this what you’re all worked up about? It’s probably some lame attempt at humor by Matt and his cronies,” Freddy offered.

  If it was humor, I wasn’t laughing. All manner of thoughts invaded my brain.

  Who exactly am I? Could this letter quite possibly have any truth to it?

  My thoughts were interrupted by the sudden shrill sound of the telephone ringing. Freddy rushed over to answer.

  “It’s for you.”

  As I placed my ear to the receiver, a low, directive voice spoke.

  “If you ever want to see Allison alive again, you will do exactly as I say.”

  “Who is this?” I shouted, my nerves like fireworks as I white-knuckled the phone.

  “Who I am does not matter. If you wish her to come to no harm, you will do exactly as I say.”

  “I’m listening,” I answered reluctantly. I realized I had no choice but to comply.

  “What is it, Charlie?” Freddy asked, trying to stay apprised of the situation. I ignored him, listening closely to the voice.

  “If you ever
want to see your little girlfriend again, walk downstairs and get into the car waiting outside. Now.”

  The voice on the other end of the line went silent and was replaced by the steady hum of the dial tone. For a second, I stood frozen in place, processing what I’d just been told.

  Allison is in trouble. You need to move.

  My brain sent the much delayed signal to my feet to spring into action, and I dropped the receiver as I headed for the door. Freddy scrambled out the door behind me, demanding an explanation at the same time. I didn’t bother to offer one as I dashed down the stairwell.

  Reaching the bottom, I wildly flung the door open and noticed a dark sedan with tinted windows parked a short distance away. The rear window lowered slowly, and I could see Allison, her mouth covered by a man’s gloved hand, her eyes wide in terror.

  “Allison!” I shouted, lunging forward in an attempt to rescue her. Freddy was close at my heels. He had no earthly idea what was going on, but he wasn’t about to let his best friend face it alone.

  Thank God for Freddy.

  Seemingly out of nowhere, a black van pulled up between us and the car holding Allison, its tires screeching to a halt. Two hooded men jumped out, and before I could react, a metallic object was jabbed into the side of my neck. Agonizing pain shot through my body like tiny bolts of electricity while I fell forward and was hurriedly shoved into the back of the van. My head felt like it was quite literally on fire. As my mind slowly faded to black, everything became foggy and muddled, and I finally lost consciousness.

  Chapter 13

  Several hours later, I awoke in an abandoned warehouse of some kind that smelled of musty old rags and burnt motor oil. The walls had a thick greasy film that was most unpleasant, but they did sport some pretty impressive graffiti in several places. My hands and feet were bound securely to the chair I had been placed upon. While I took in my surroundings, I noticed Allison and Freddy were similarly bound a few feet away, both unconscious. I presumed they had also received the same shock treatment tendered to me before being unceremoniously thrown into the back of a van.

  While I struggled to clear my head of the cobwebs and fogginess, the side door of the warehouse creaked open and in walked a well-dressed older gentleman followed by two younger men, both clad in black. It felt like the start of a bad mafia-type movie that usually didn’t end well for the guy strapped to the chair. As they drew closer, I recognized one of the men as the guy who had jabbed me in the neck earlier by the tattoo on his wrist. It was the depiction of a snake that coiled up his forearm.