The Devils Harvest: The End of All Flesh. Read Free Page A

digital world. Because that’s the other important thing with a laptop; the internet – the writer’s best friend – a world of information right at my fingertips. No more library visits, pouring over old books, or phone calls to collect information. Now it can all be done from the comfort of my desk. God bless Google and Wikipedia.
     
    Maybe it’s because of my passion for writing or merely because of the location I choose to live, is the reason he decided to choose me. I don’t think I will ever know why he picked me. He never gave a reason. Then again I don’t think he needed to, or would have given me an explanation even if I had the courage to ask. And to be quite frank, I don’t think I ever thought to ask. That was my reasoning to start with; it all became apparent towards the twisted end.

    It would have been many days, if not weeks, before I would have seen another human being, let alone whatever he claimed to be. That’s one of those small details I told you about.

    When I opened my door to the intensive knocking on that cold, dark January evening, when most sensible people would be huddled up in the heat and comfort of their home. Not that anyone could even move about in the snow outside. And it was impossible to get to my out of the way house with all the blizzards blowing, snow piling up.
     
    That’s when I saw him standing upon my snow-incrusted doormat. I noticed not one snowflake clinging to his clothing or hair. His black highly polished shoes still glistening from the warm light issuing from my open fire in the room behind me, as clean as if only having just been polished – no snow or mush on them (and no cloven hoof feet). And the fact that besides the freezing cold and drizzling snow, he was wearing no coat of any kind, just a simple black suit jacket that matched his expensive looking black trousers and waistcoat.

    “Good evening,” he said, as if having met him on the sidewalk in town. A perfect gentlemanly voice, not one you would expect coming from someone like him. His eyes locked intently upon mine.
     
    I stood transfixed in the small vestibule, looking at this figure stood under the lintel of my front door. The wind and snow was blowing relentlessly behind him. His face lit up by the reflection of my roaring fire. A vile smile on an otherwise ordinary face. Hair still impeccably groomed, not one single hair out of place from the fierce winds. A dry black umbrella held in one of his hands, still folded up with the little popper clipped in place. And most alarming, not one single footprint leading its way to my door. Surely the snow wouldn’t have covered them that quickly ?

    “May I seek shelter from this stormy weather?” He’d asked, his voice still flat and emotionless. His dark eyes still locked on mine, unflinching. Something about those dark eyes .
     
    Then I simply stood aside, knowing there was nothing else I could do. I could no more of stopped him from entering as I could of waved a hand and abated the storm. And that simple act changed my life. If I had refused him entry I might not be alive today to tell the tale – his tale. But of course now I know different, things having already run there course and I am now relating them for the first time.

    As he serenely glided past a waft of musk and ancient spices drifted from him.
     
    I stood next to the open door, the wind howling, snow clinging to my back and trousers, making my slippers wet and cold. All the heat I had accumulated rushing out the wide-open door. Doors banging loudly from inside as the wind whipped around the confines of my once sane home.

    I would never have the sense of normality again. My life was now forever changed. My fixed natural order in the cosmos had now been radically altered. Destiny was looking the other way.
     
    I watched as he gracefully moved across the room. The way in which he moved was more like a predator than a mere man. After a couple of steps he simply opened his clenched