Dimensions of Genesis

Dimensions of Genesis

By: Danielle Q. Lee

Dimensions of Genesis

Copyright © 2010 by Danielle Quinlan-Lee

ISBN 978-0-9865680-0-8

Aethereal Publishing

Cover Image by Karen M. Koski

Smashwords Edition

Published by Danielle Q. Lee at
Smashwords

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This is a work of fiction. Names, characters,
places and incidents either are the product of the author’s
imagination or are used fictitiously. And any resemblance to actual
persons, living, dead (or in any other form), business
establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

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Acknowledgments

A big thank you to my sister Crystal, for all
her support and being my ‘number one fan’. A big hug to my husband
Chris, who is the most patient and understanding person I’ve ever
met.

Revelations

Five years in the future…

Kneeling before the Council of Shadows, David
could hear the ghost girl weeping. Her head bowed shamefully, he
cringed as deep, ominous voices commanded her, “Choose!”

Held captive before her were a man and a
girl, presumably the ones she loved most while she was alive. Again
they ordered her to choose, “Who is to live...and who is to
die?”

This is how the dark beings have always
dominated their prey
, David empathized with the girl;
they
inspire guilt and fear, and then feast upon the wounded
spirit.

Watching cautiously from his vantage point
high in the mountains, David crouched, hidden far from the glaring
eyes of the beasts. The girl’s agonized cries reverberated off the
steep walls of the mountains as she struggled with the impossible
decision to end the life of one to spare the other.

Fear swept through David as he watched masses
of shadow serpents slither at her feet like a sea of black leeches.
Each beast snarled and salivated with cruel intention, undoubtedly
hoping for the order to devour her.

She's the one.
He lowered his eyes as
hopelessness eclipsed his heart;
she is the soul we need to save
this world.

He yearned to rush to her, into the valley of
death, to spare her this sorrow.
There’s just too many of them.
Hundreds...maybe thousands. If only she would remember who she
really is.
He thought nostalgically as he recalled the moment
of his own awakening.

Raising his eyes to the heavens, his eyes
bore witness to the very sight he'd been dreading.

It's here, we're too late.

Defeated, David watched as the Wave poured
into Earth's atmosphere, enshrouding the sky with darkness. Though
beautiful, he knew it carried the power to consume an entire
dimension. Earth's dimension.

Turning his attention to the scene below, he
was puzzled to see the young girl now standing and approaching the
Judges. Raising her hand to touch the reflective surface of the
Council's judicial bench, she traced the outline of her face with
her finger. With such agony painted upon her face only moments
before, David was confused when she suddenly smiled at her mirror
image.

“Choose!” the Judges' voices thundered like
an avalanche. David winced as their evil energy, a vile and bitter
wave of hate, resounded through the valley. The jagged cliffs
echoed the Council's order like a deep snarl.

The girl continued to smile at her
reflection, seemingly unconcerned with their demands and oblivious
to the danger hurtling itself through space.

Looking again to the sky, the Wave only
moments from arrival, dread washed over his ethereal body like a
cold front had passed through his soul.

Everything depends on her decision.

“Choose!” The six Judges stood as they
pounded their gavels with such force that tiny sparks ignited with
every crash.

As the Wave growled overhead, she raised her
head indignantly as though challenging the six tyrannical
adjudicators. The young girl then spoke boldly, announcing her
decision.

With the roar of the oncoming Wave, David did
not hear her choice. Frantic, he peeked over the edge of the cliff,
his heart stopping as chaos ensued within the ocean of evil beings.
The furious beasts screeched as they charged the helpless phantom
girl.

She had chosen.

Forbidden Fruit

In The Beginning...

Apprehensive as the heavy door slammed behind
her, Lily Donovan scanned the austere environment. Glancing at her
watch, Sunday mass didn’t begin for another forty-five minutes and
the nearly empty church intimidated her.

Removing her white sweater, damp from the
rain, she hung it in the coat closet provided for the congregation.
Thinking ahead, she chose to hang it at the end; closest to the
door.

That way, I can escape quickly after the
service.
 She thought slyly.

Placing the sweater on the rung, she cringed
as the hangers clattered together. Even the most subtle noises were
like a freight train in an empty church. Pensively, she compared
the ambiance of the church to a library, wondering why it was
necessary to remain hushed within walls of religion.

Selecting a seat near the confessional booth,
she was dismayed to find it was occupied.

Looking at her watch again, her bottom lip
protruded into a slight pout,
I hope that person doesn't take
too long. My parents will be here in twenty minutes!

Two tiny gray-haired nuns sat two pews ahead
of her. Their heads bowed, they fumbled their beaded rosaries in
earnest. Suppressing a giggle with the back of her hand, the
Sisters reminded her of a dirty joke she’d heard about two nuns
going into a bar. It involved sheep, it was a bad one.

Straightening her suit jacket, she noticed a
smear of syrup on the cuff of her white blouse; all that remained
of her mother’s delicious Sunday breakfast. Lily looked around to
ensure no one noticed as she gave her cuff a quick lick
cleaning.

Out of boredom, her eyes wandered around the
church. In the corner, a tiered table hosted many lit candles. Each
candle's flame represented a prayer for a loved one. Flinching as
she envisioned herself tripping and plunging headfirst into the
illuminated vigil, she knew that if anyone was going to end up a
human torch; it was her. Trouble and mishap stalked Lily like a
blood-thirsty mosquito.

Her gaze paused on the altar, drawn to the
wooden cross mounted behind it. A plastic version of Jesus was
impaled on the cross, nails in his hands and feet. Red paint
simulated blood weeping from the wounds. A thorny crown adorned the
model’s head while fake blood drizzled down his face. It was the
expression on his face, however, that caused her to cringe. Staring
upward to the sky, his mouth gaping, a look of horror painted upon
his face.

Grimacing, she wondered.
Did they put that
horrible statue there to make people feel guilty or is it to make
us feel sorry for him?
Either way, it didn’t motivate her to
come here every Sunday.

Lily could never put her finger on her inner
resentments towards the whole church 'thing'. She'd actually taken
time to think about it, but never resolved her feelings. It could
have been that her parents had always forced her to go to church or
simply because church was boring. She couldn’t deny she had a
relationship with this 'God' guy, but he reminded her more of a
grandpa she rarely visited.

At seventeen, she was relieved to be too old
for the weekly Sunday school class, but she couldn’t help but feel
sorry for the children corralled into the back room during
service. 

Recalling a time she'd argued with the nuns,
her memory drifted back to one of the more heated debates during
Sunday school.

“Well, all I’m asking is if there was only
Adam and Eve,” twelve year old Lily proposed calmly, “and they
had Cain and Abel…how did the rest of the people come about? I
mean, Eve didn’t, like, you know…with her sons? Did she?”

Lily remembered being sent out of Sunday
school class that day, one time among many. Her parents were
notified, by a flustered nun, after mass. Of course, the real
punishment came later, in the form of a spanking, courtesy of her
father’s leather belt.

Shaking off the unpleasant memory, Lily
glanced at the confessional booth again, sighing as impatience
crept up.

Touching her curly caramel-colored hair, she
assessed how frizzy it may have gotten on the way to church. Rain
had devastating effects on natural curl. Thankfully, she'd sprayed
a bit of hairspray in it before she left home; in hopes it would
stay put for a few hours.

Most of her corkscrew curls hung to her
waist, except for a few shorter pieces in the front. Methodically,
she placed a couple strands over the large crescent-shaped scar on
her forehead. She smiled, thinking back to the day she'd earned
that scar; the day she met Gabe.

Gabe, along with his mother and two siblings,
had just moved to Summerland, British Columbia from Greece.

That was five years ago already.
She
thought affectionately, picturing the first time she saw Gabe's
handsome Greek features. Even though he was fifteen at the time,
and she was only twelve, something...almost supernatural...drew
them together.

Her eyes glazed over as she daydreamed back
to the moment she first saw him...the way his black hair shone in
the sun, his crystal blue eyes...

Grow up Lily!
She scolded herself.
He obviously doesn't like you that way!

She noticed two young altar boys enter and
begin preparing for the service. Turning her wrist over, she
checked the time; generating a wave of fresh anxiety.

“9:10.” She muttered under her breath,
tapping the folded step on the pew ahead of her.

Adjusting herself, she placed her feet on top
of the retractable prayer step. Being short, only five feet tall,
had its advantages. The prayer step, folded onto the back of the
pew ahead of her, would be too high for a taller person to rest
comfortably on. For Lily, however, it performed more like a
footstool than a penance cushion.

Bored, she leaned forward to grab one of the
psalm booklets in the shelf. As she shifted her weight, the hinged
step her feet had been resting on, suddenly flipped down, plunging
Lily's face into the pew ahead of her.

To make matters worse, the commotion created
a crashing noise that reverberated throughout the church; startling
everyone, making them turn and stare at her.

Reorganizing herself, Lily touched her
battered chin and saw traces of blood on her fingers.

“Jesus.” She hissed under her breath as she
dabbed her throbbing chin. Her curse was apparently louder than she
thought as the two nuns turned and glared, their wrinkled faces
contorted into a disapproving frown.

“Our…lord and savior…” she stammered,
trying to cover up her curse.

The two nuns shot her a scornful look, and
then turned their attention back to their rosaries. She fought the
urge to stick her tongue out at them.

Well, that was fun.
Lily thought wryly
as she searched her purse for a compact mirror and a Kleenex to
clean off the blood. Before she could assess the damage done to her
chin, however, she noticed movement from the back of the
church.

Someone was emerging from the confessional
booth.

“Alright!” She exclaimed, ignoring the nuns
shushing her and rushed over to the booth.

Pushing back the thick black curtain draped
over the entrance, she entered into the dark box. Arranging the
curtain behind her so no one could see inside, she sat and waited
for confession to begin.

After a few moments of silence, a deep male
voice emanated from the other side of the confessional screen.

“Peace be with you.” He said
professionally.