The saint and the sinner


Whaling at the top of its lungs, the ghost ran backwards trying to avoid one more swing of the salty bat. Its cries were a mix of a baby and the last mating call of an exotic bird.

Tim ran forwards, hurling himself and the bat at the ghost cowering in the corner. Visible tears gushed down its cheek.

"Stop, I have a family, please"

Tim cackled with a mix of rage and anguish. They always said the same thing. Always a cry and a whine. A made-up story of how they had a family, a wife, some kids. They were 'just like us' but they weren't looking at them with their pale skin and red eyes. Tim knew who they really were. They were the pinnacle of evil and anger rolled into one enormous floating mass..

Rebecca stood behind Tim, shocked, confused. Not believing what was happening in front of her baby blue eyes. Is this what it came down to? A man swinging a salted bat and a thousand pounds missing from the pocket. All the pain and suffering the ghost had caused, and this was how it was going to end.

Two more swings and a fine grit powder floated to the floor. Tims adrenaline was like crack to the veins dancing through his body, pumping his heart. This is what he lived for. The devil sent them here and he would bat them down. One by one.

"A hoover won't clear the mess up you will need bleach, but I think that's the last you will hear of him. I told you it would work" He smiled and winked, swung the bat behind his back and wondered off down the hall. He got in his car and disappeared into the night. Rebecca sat down with a strong whiskey and fell asleep. The nightmares had gone.

The radio blasted out some old rock music as he put his foot down, speeding down the country lanes headed for home. When he got in he slunk away his equipment undressed and threw himself on the bed. The hunger he felt after a fight was normally over powering but tonight all he felt was exhaustion and pain in his upper forearm. He had swung that bat harder than he had before..

That night as he closed his eyes, a kind of heat hit him. His blood felt like it was boiling and his heart was racing. In his mind he saw a face, a dark face with red eyes. As the picture cleared in his mind, a voice sang.

"You have been a bad boy, Tim. You know that right. You may think what you do is for the greater good, but you took it to far this time." The face cleared and he could see a red glow.

"You know who I am and you are going to pay for what you did" His blood bubbled skin itched eyes cried although they were closed, and the water filled up his lids.

"This is not the end, this is just beginning. I will be with you for the rest of your life. Beating and torturing you, making you walk on hot coals as I unleash hell upon you. You killed a saint and now you are a sinner. God has let you loose on me so you can be mine to play with. He has given me permission to do what I want with you. You should have killed none of my minions, they were all mine but you were protected by the man himself. But now you messed with one of his, HAHAHAHA," The cackle made tims ears burst, a stream of blood fell down his cheek.