Richard Heredia

The Birth of Bane Richard Heredia

When I gaze skyward, I can almost see her there, behind the clouds, gazing down, as she said she would - watching. I can almost make out her aqua-marine eyes, those perfect eyelids, sculpted lashes. I was never an expert on spirits or ghosts or haunts. I had always thought them fanciful figments of an imagination gone wild. Though I had heard they could be annoying, even bothersome to those unfortunates who strayed too close, who opened their minds too wide and let them in. Still, I was, and always would've been, an unbeliever. What I didn't know was they could be so much more than aggravating poltergeists bumping in the night. They could be grateful, caring, even convey love when compelled, had enough strength. I was amazed. It was wondrous. Then, he brought the anger and the malice in his heart. He brought destruction and darkness, intent on killing us all. That was when She changed. That was when She rose up. She was ruthless. She took him. She keeps what she takes...