forced his legs to move and, thrashing, kicking and yelling, fled into the unknown.

      Feeling a heart beating, a vein throbbing painfully in his head, a rush of blood sent frightened signals to the brain, trapped reminders, an avalanche of thoughts and emotions waging a constant internal battle. Moving at a speed of light, molecules vibrated so fast as to be unseen by humans. Fear, soon replaced by newfound appreciation for spirit abilities, he relished in the power it gave him.

      Where am I? Is this Hell? Anxiously, Jake looked around and noted the barren landscape. Not very pretty to look at, but at least there’s no fire. Strange, he thought. I’ve never really thought about what it would look like. But, then again, I didn’t expect to wind up here either.

      Then, alarm... Is this it for me now? Hopelessness, along with fear, consumed him as he tried to gain control over human emotions swirling within. He tried to calm down and gain his bearings, saw no one, heard nothing but the turmoil inside his head.

      Slowly, anger filled the crevices, forcing questions and uncertainty into a deeper space. It came from the lingering effects of cocaine, ingested at death and transmitted from one world to another. Irrational, it described an insane mindset that placed blame on another for your own selfish acts of foolishness. It owed its sheer power to the drug. Evolving, it spilled over into intolerable, and, once there, it no longer included sensibility.

      Still, anger was manageable, until it turned to rage and invaded him like a growing cancer, pushing and shoving until all other feelings were removed, leaving only a resurrected budding hatred and awareness of the circumstances and the person who put him here.

      Yes, Jake remembered. The rage and loathing completely occupied him now, fear erased by reminiscences.

       His fists flailed, knees gave out from under him as he dropped to the hard, barren surface, feeling no pain, hearing no thud. Pounding the ground, clouds of dust exploded like smoke signals. Jake’s passion grew and his abhorrence for the person he blamed spilled out and covered the landscape like a festering sore. His words filled the air with short, staccato puffs of breath, “Logan Massey... you - are - mine!’

      * * * * *

      In the distance, on a slightly elevated plane in the parallel world, a crescendo of voices rose, blending into a persistent hum, a response to the fury apparent below.

      “A loner”, someone whispered.

      “He’s no longer with the Dark entities.”

      One voice drowned out the others, commanding their attention. “He is to be watched.”

      A swell of sound greeted this pronouncement.

      In total agreement with their leader’s warning, one of the beings said, “Donald, I sense animosity in this one. His purpose is to hurt a human.”