Knightlight: Prelude to the Dark Messiah - Book One

So you think you understand the world you live in? Dont bet your life on it. This world is not safe. This world is not sane. This world is a ticking time bomb, and the lives of billions hang in the balance.Knightlight, an organization founded in 1947, is a government-sanctioned agency that deals with non-military threats. They deal with madmen and monsters. They are at war, and have been for nearly seventy years. But the enemy is ancient and has an agenda of its own. The enemy has had all the time in the world to prepare. The first phase of the plandestroy Knightlight, and any resistance, removing them all from the field of battle. There are terrible things soon coming upon the Earth terrible things. We live in a short slice of time referred to as the Prelude to the Dark Messiah. Knightlight knows it cant protect mankind from the future, but until the end comes, they will hold the line.Forget what you believe you know about the Bigfoot phenomenon. Ignore what you think you understand about aliens. Unlearn what youve been taught about ghosts, vampires, and werewolves. None of the above exist, but what does exist will gladly drag you to the pit of hell and devour you on the way.

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KnightlightPrelude to the Dark Messiah Book OneBy M. D. RossiBalboa PressCopyright © 2013 M. D. RossiAll rights reserved.ISBN: 978-1-4525-7220-8ContentsAcknowledgements...........................................................ixChapter 1 The First Sign...................................................1Chapter 2 The Interview of Years Past......................................8Chapter 3 The Crypto-zoologists Convention.................................35Chapter 4 The Witch Queen..................................................50Chapter 5 Genesis 6:4......................................................57Chapter 6 Knightlight......................................................65Chapter 7 Plans and Logistics..............................................93Chapter 8 The Blood of the Moon............................................100Chapter 9 The Body of Evidence.............................................110Chapter 10 Various Shades of Reality.......................................124Chapter 11 En Route to the "Crossroads of America".........................149Chapter 12 Convergence.....................................................182Chapter 13 Putting the World in Context....................................218Chapter 14 The Big Cheese..................................................230Chapter 15 Rock and a Hard-Case............................................234Chapter 16 On the Move.....................................................250Chapter 17 Wrestling Darwin................................................255Chapter 18 Tick............................................................271Chapter 19 No Such Thing...................................................276Chapter 20 The Ambush......................................................284Chapter 21 No Time to Lie..................................................301Chapter 22 Make Ready the Hunt!............................................318Chapter 23 Before the Face of the Enemy....................................335Chapter 24 Braxton.........................................................366Chapter 25 Bravo Trinity...................................................378Chapter 26 Malcolm Carson..................................................401Chapter 27 Crystal.........................................................415Chapter 28 Nick of Time....................................................419Chapter 29 The Turkey Run Monster..........................................432Chapter 30 Of Monsters and Men.............................................441Chapter 31 End Game........................................................457Chapter 32 Loose Ends and Deadly Beginnings................................478ExcerptCHAPTER 1The First Sign(From the notes of First Agent Christopher Griffin)Life on this planet is a cliché. What has happened before ishappening, and will happen again, with very few exceptions.Mankind has little choice, even in those exceptions. Repeatinghistory is the fate of the mortal who has not studied the fateof his predecessors, and still that is no guarantee, for thathas also been done before, and here we are.There is nothing new under the sun, so says the inspiredWisdom of Solomon. Here is another truism, if you will: "Weexist in the once-and-future present." The human conditionwas death-prone yesterday, is death-prone today, and will betomorrow. As with the Anakim, the Emim, the Nephilim, theGibbor, the Zuzims, the Rephaim, and the Gadarenos, theywere of old, they are, and they will be tomorrow. However,and paradoxically so, it has not always been that way, andit won't be that way sometime in the future.... But that isexactly why Knightlight exists.* * *Rural Montgomery County, Indiana—PresentDay, June 15thDarkness followed on the heels of the fading sunset like apredator stalking its own mortal enemy. Silently, fireflies dancedabove the farmland surrounding a dense forest. Night was beginningits reign. The air was thick and humid, and a mist was beginningto rise and coalesce, shrouding the landscape. It was summer inIndiana, and with it, cicadas sang in varying flourishes of intensitylike the surge and ebb of a tide. Crickets chirped fearlessly, tree frogscroaked their salutations to one another, and coyotes prepared tohowl mournfully, as the night sky filled itself with familiar stars. Tothe east, the lights of the small town of Waveland could be distantlyseen glowing above the tree line, and to the northeast, the brighterhue of Crawfordsville lit the horizon.Most of the rich farmland near the forest was owned by theAmish. Big barns, silos, and large houses stood soundly on hugetracts of farmland. The Amish are simple but adamant in the practiceof their way of life. They keep to themselves on the whole, unlessthey need to travel to Waveland to work, or even farther to Rockvillefor supplies and the sale of goods to the outlanders.The Amish are skilled and extremely self-sufficient, knowingthe ways of the land using Biblical principles and they put in anhonest day's work for an honest day's wages. They are strangersto technology on balance, having turned their back on the ever-changing customs and progress of the outlander's world. But likeany colony of people that choose to escape society, there are ampleills that cannot be simply abandoned. Seclusion is no defense or curefor the darkness in the hearts of man, and it can often be beacon toanother darkness that sees easy prey. Though Amish proficiency,unity and determination had prepared their people to face almostanything nature could throw at them, none of them expected theneed to prepare for slaughter.Daniel Beiler had just pulled off "SR-47" in his black mule-drawncarriage after passing Lake Waveland and the Turkey RunGolf Course, wound around two bends, and then turned onto hislong drive. His buggy was clean but the black leather interior hadbecome dingy from constant use, and the aged suspension wouldcreak loudly whenever it hit a bump. The drive ahead, nearly halfa mile long, led up to his massive barn and his home beyond, onthe expansive property that he owned outright. He was a peacefuland reasonably content man who had lines etched in his leatheryface from years of good humor. Pride was perhaps his only outwardfailing.The broad-brimmed hat that covered his head had absorbedmuch sweat in the heat of the day and was finally drying in theslight night breeze of the still very warm evening. Daniel realizedearly on that day that he should have worn the straw hat, but hemade his choice when the day was cool. His beard was a respectablelength for his age, and gray hairs were creeping into it, giving it asalt-and-pepper kind of look which signified that a new elder mightbe in the making.Daniel was glad to be home after spending the evening atthe Hostetler farm. He had delivered a natural gas tank to AmosHostetler for his stove, and loaned him some tools that Amoshad requested to borrow. While he was there, the two spent alittle too much time discussing Amos's son, John, and his potentialmarital intentions with Daniel's daughter Katie. There would be noofficial announcement of the pairing of the children until November,assuming that they continued to be a couple at the Sunday nightsing-alongs. Manipulation of the children's lives was customary,and when successful; it demonstrated authority to the Elders whowatched for those traits. Daniel wanted those traits noticed.Nearing the barn, Daniel noticed that the gaslights of his homebeyond were unlit, which was not usual when darkness fell. Still,the sight made him slightly uneasy. He sensed that something waswrong. He guided his mule down the lane between white wooden-railedfences that paralleled the drive. It was dark enough that hehad to use the fence itself to keep square in the lane, and the singlefront lamplight allowed him to be seen but did little to reveal thepath ahead. He looked to the east and saw that a slice of moon wasbeginning to rise, but he'd be inside by the time it gave him usefullight. The carriage was almost to the corner of the left fence wherehe'd turn to reach the barn and park his carriage for the night.Belle, the mule pulling Daniel's carriage, pricked up her earsand began to shake her head. Daniel noticed that his hands weretrembling while holding the reins. He then realized that he no longerheard the cicadas, the tree frogs, or even crickets. He heard nothingover the hoof-clipping sounds of Belle's steps, and the carriagewheels crushing the gravel of the path beneath. All was dark and fartoo quiet as he approached his barn. An irrational dread overcamehim. Then a shape moving suddenly caught his eye to the left, and ina blur, Belle was struck by something hairy and massive, knockingher sideways, overturning the carriage, which skidded behind Belle'slimp and fallen body and too came to rest on its side.Daniel was stunned, confused, and quite shaken as he triedto right himself within the tight enclosed carriage now lying onthe ground. Dust had been kicked up because of the spill, andoutside the badly cracked front window, Daniel could see the bodyof Belle, unmoving, on the ground just outside. He could not seemuch farther than that because of the dust and the dark. He tastedblood in his mouth and could feel the thick liquid running downhis forehead. He sat up, tossed his hat to the side, and reached upto open the side door that was now above him. He struggled toopen it, but it would not budge. Wondering whether his mule wasstruck by a loose bull running at full tilt, he still was completelyunsure of what on earth had just happened, and he began to fearthe darkness.Suddenly the door with which he was struggling was rippedfrom his grasp and pulled clean off the carriage, to Daniel's furtheramazement. Daniel shrank back inside the buggy and listened as thedoor landed somewhere off in the distance. He heard a deep growlvery near him. His pulse was raging, making the sound of riverrapids in his ears for fear's sake. His breath was coming in short,tight heaves, as he struggled to listen beyond himself for anythingthat would tell him what was just outside the carriage. He heardheavy footsteps in close proximity. He craned his neck upward whilebracing himself, because the carriage was none too stable, and hepeered out the opening above him. Then a massive arm reacheddown from above and grabbed his entire head in a rough palm,with fingers locking around his skull. In an instant he was lifted andtossed thirty feet from the carriage, tumbling toward his house andinto the lower wooden fence rail that ran the length of his drive.Lying there for a moment, dazed, Daniel realized that he'dlanded well enough and nothing seemed to be broken; but it wasn'ta gentle landing, and danger was very near. He heard weightyfootsteps on the gravel coming in his direction. Then his nostrilsmade him aware of a thick smell that reminded him of a dead deeron a hot summer's day, like a festering carcass that he would haveavoided ... and he smelled something like sulfur within the stench.He looked up to see what had tossed him so effortlessly, but theblack silhouette was almost upon him. Terror struck him as he sawthe dark and giant "thing" before him. He gained his footing anddashed toward his home as fast as he could.Darkness was still between him and his house, but he knew theway to his home, and hopefully to safety. Unfortunately, he did notsee what was before him on the ground and he tripped, makingcontact with something soft but unyielding in the yard. He landedon his stomach and gravel bit into his palms. Getting up and lookingbehind him, he saw the mammoth shape getting nearer, taking longyet strangely casual strides. It was the stride of complete dominancebefore a helpless victim. Daniel looked down at what had trippedhim, and in the naked light of the rising moon, he recognized thehead and torso of his brother. A stifled scream escaped his lips. Helooked up again and realized that he was almost within the giantthing's grasp. Daniel pushed himself backward, regaining his footing.He turned to the house and sprinted to the porch steps, where hethen saw his wife and children, lifeless by the porch steps. Horrorgripped Daniel, panic encompassed him, and then something evenmore powerful both gripped and encompassed him. He was liftedhigh into the air; a single hairy hand grasped both of Daniel's legsin an astonishingly large hand, and the other wrapped itself tightlyaround his head. He was pulled in two different directions ... andthen Daniel knew no more in this world.* * *The heavy rains began an hour later and lasted for three soakingdays. When Amos Hostetler finally dropped by, he found the Beilerhomestead vacant. He assumed that the household had gone totown, so he left the tools he had borrowed in the unlocked barn,and went back home expecting to hear from Daniel soon, within aday or two at most. Nothing looked abnormal. Well, other than thefact that a couple of the fence rails on the drive had been repairedrecently, and the workmanship seemed ... hasty. It wasn't until sixdays after Amos's visit that a missing person's report was filed andthe small Waveland Police department got involved.Sheriff Braxton, 59 years old last May, sporting silver hair, wasfollowing the eye doctor's orders; he was wearing glasses now,and not just to drive. Braxton drove out to the Hostetler farm andinterviewed Amos, noting the date when Daniel was last seen.Then he visited the Beiler residence, where found nothing denotingviolence in the disappearances, just a little dust indicating thatit had been at least a week since the Beilers had last been home.Braxton checked the cooler and found spoiled milk. He looked inthe closets to see whether any clothing seemed to have been packedfor an unannounced trip, but he could not tell whether anything wasmissing. He checked the root cellar and found canning jars bothfull and empty, but little else. He checked the barn, seeing that theequipment looked in order, and noting that all the livestock slipswere empty and the coach was gone, which might indicate that theBeilers were traveling. He admitted to himself that he knew too littleabout the Amish, but as far as Braxton could determine, the Beilerscould have simply taken a trip to any other Amish farm in any otherstate, and there was no clue as to where that might be. The simplelife that the Amish lived made it difficult to obtain informationabout them, or know their whereabouts, when you weren't actuallyspeaking to them.Braxton filed his report and kept tabs on the Beiler farm whenin the neighborhood, and on Amos as well, but there was not muchelse he could do. The report sat idle for many days, until otherbodies were found, and the sightings began.CHAPTER 2The Interview of Years PastArapaho County Jail, Centennial,Colorado—October 17, 1994Dominic Moreau, "Nick" to his friends, age 28, sat at a metaltable in the empty room and waited for the FBI agent to come inand begin to interview him. He still had residual ink stains frombeing fingerprinted two days before. He was mainly of Italiandescent, despite his last name being French, but he referred himselfonly as an American. He had black hair that was becoming longerthan he liked, almost reaching his shoulders. It was swept backand tousled because he'd not been allowed so much as a comb.His eyes were a striking dark brown, and he sported a tight beardand mustache—black as well—which were usually well trimmed,but jail time gave everyone that disheveled look. Though smallishin stature, only 5'8" tall, he had a fight in him that would neversurrender when family or friend needed defense, but he foundthat there were things in this world that did not yield or retreatuntil they destroyed all he loved, regardless of the fight in him.He'd recently discovered that he was not strong enough to save hisfamily. Now he felt alone, hopeless and helpless. He felt that evenGod had abandoned him.Dominic was handcuffed to the table that was bolted to thefloor, and he sat in an immovable chair, also fixed to the ground.He was facing the two-way mirror across from him. It was a chillyroom because someone in control of the room's temperature hadintended it to be so. The room smelled of stale cigarettes and coffeegrounds. The walls were painted a dreary gray and were unadornedwith the exception of a single motivational poster on the wall. Inbold letters it read, "Simplicate ... Don't Complify!" Obviously, itwas somebody's idea of a joke. Nick sat alone, silent, forlorn, andhelpless in an uncaring room.Every time Dominic thought about the events that landed himthere, tears would well up in his eyes, followed closely by anger.What happened was simply horrible and no one believed him. Justtwo days ago, Dominic was taken into custody with the blood ofhis wife covering much of him, his lifeless child in his arms, andhis home ablaze. He was in shock and the appearances weren't justsuspicious, but incriminating. Now he mourned for his family andwanted justice for them, but he was a captive. He wanted the police,the FBI, even the military to help him find and kill that "thing" thatdestroyed his family, yet it was he who was seen as the murderer,perhaps even insane, and his pleas for help went ignored becauseof his impossible story. He had waived his Fifth Amendment rightsand told the police on the scene what had happened while therewas still time to pursue the thing and kill it. He nearly grabbed anofficer's weapon so that he could demonstrate the urgency to huntit down, but the police were all over him and subdued him quickly.Before he knew it, he was processed and locked in jail.Dominic was to be in front of a judge in the afternoon, butnow the FBI wanted to "interview" him, which he believed wasjust politically correct speak for "interrogate," so he sat there, withemotions raw and deep, and waited. Intermittently, he prayed thatGod would intervene, but he admitted to himself that part of himwas angry at God for letting this happen to his family. He knew,for example, that Job had suffered greater than he, but he also knewthat suffering sometimes becomes so painful that it makes a manlash out at the very ones he loves, and he loved God. He also knewthat God was in control of this universe, and nothing happenedwithout God's permission ... so God was allowing the hurt hefelt ... allowing his confusion, his grief.... Pain was now the coreof his heart, and a bitter helplessness was the root of his spirit.With a click, the windowless door to the room unlocked, andthen swung open, admitting an officer that Dominic had seenbefore, and apparently the FBI agent. The agent wore a dark suitjacket and pants and a light gray shirt with a red tie, and though heseemed quite fit for his apparent age, he looked as if he was readyfor retirement. The agent signaled to the officer that he wanted tospeak to Dominic alone, so the officer nodded and exited the room,locking it behind him.Dominic looked at the agent as he took the seat across from himand clenched his jaws, knowing he would have to relive the eventyet again for this stranger. He took a deep breath, looked down athis cuffed hands, and resigned himself to the circumstances for themoment, feeling quite defenseless. He knew despair more intimatelythan he'd ever known it."Put your wrists on the table, please," the federal agent saidalmost politely, but with a strong and authoritative voice. Dominiccomplied while the agent reached over and unshackled him, lettingthe cuffs drop onto the table. Dominic picked up the cuffs andhanded them to the agent."Just leave them there, Mr. Moreau. I trust you aren't goingto use them as a weapon," the agent said with a raised eyebrow,a knowing eyebrow. He cleared his throat while he gazed at theprisoner before him, sizing him up, and choosing his introductioncarefully. He had many introductions in his repertoire. "My nameis Griffin ... Agent Christopher Griffin. My information tells methat you have waived your Fifth Amendment rights and agreedthat I could come and interview you without having any councilrepresenting you, is that correct?""I agreed," said Dominic."Why did you agree, Mr. Moreau?" Agent Griffin asked."Because I figured that since I am only guilty of trying to protectmy family, there must be something bigger going on if the FBIwanted to question me about it, and I need all the help I can get. Ifigured that there was something about my case that matched othercases.""Sound reasoning, Mr. Moreau. I am here because I might beable to help you.""You might?" Dominic asked. "Mr. Griffin, so far I've beentreated like a murdering nut-job, instead of a victim. The policeact as if I was the one who hurt my family, and they locked me upwhen I should be out there hunting my wife and daughter's killer,and burying my family." Tears welled up in his eyes. He bit backat them.Griffin remained silent and observed Dominic's body languagefor details that might confirm earnestness, dishonesty, or insanity.Dominic knew that he was being studied and that he was beingobserved beyond the mirror behind Agent Griffin. He really couldn'tcare less. "How are you going to help me?""Mr. Moreau, I am very sorry for your loss," Agent Griffin saidwith sincerity. "We are going to have a little talk. I'll ask you somequestions; I'll listen to your answers. I'll ask more questions, andby the end of our brief discussion, I will know whether I can helpyou or not.""May I see your ID and badge?" Dominic asked. (Continues...)Excerpted from Knightlight by M. D. Rossi. Copyright © 2013 by M. D. Rossi. Excerpted by permission of Balboa Press.All rights reserved. No part of this excerpt may be reproduced or reprinted without permission in writing from the publisher.Excerpts are provided by Dial-A-Book Inc. solely for the personal use of visitors to this web site.

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