by Richard Para

Created on: July 14, 2008

The Man Who Killed the Antichrist

There is no finer time of day than the breaking of dawn. It is the promise of a new beginning, a fresh start, the first step toward a more fulfilling life and all of the unknown wonders that are about to unfold. No one enjoyed the freshness and joy of the morning more than the gray haired, elderly gentleman seated in the passenger side of a clean, well-kept Chevy Malibu. The old man smiled and his deep blue eyes sparkled as he took in the familiar sights around him along the lonely, asphalt paved country road. He had not been down this road in many years and driving along as they were on this wonderful morning brought back a flood of memories, happy memories.

"Where we headin' grandpaw?" Inquired the young driver of the vehicle, his blond hair being blown every which way from the fresh breeze whirling in from the open window. "Sanders Point is just up the road. Is that where you want to go?"

"No, not that far," the old man quietly replied, "but, take it slow just beyond that bend," his wrinkled, but steady hand pointed the way. The young man dutifully followed the old man's instruction and the Chevy slowed to nearly a crawl as they rounded the bend. "There!" Gandpaw shouted, "turn inturn in."

"Where?" The young fellow's eyes widened as he looked about spotting only a pair of parallel ruts heading off the road.

"There, right over there."

The boy maneuvered the Chevy into the ruts then spotted an old shack no more than fifty feet from the road. A wide grin covered the elderly man's pale face as he signaled his grandson to stop. The gentleman said not a word he simply sank back into his seat and let out a deep sigh. Slowly, the gray-headed man exited the car, straitened up his tie and began to walk toward the run downed old shanty followed by his grandson who quickly came to the older man's side to grasp his arm.

"What is this place grandpaw?" The boy frowned as his eyes took in the rotting steps that led to a decaying porch. A broken screen door hung perilously on one hinge in front of a half opened front door. The only thing on the porch was a wooden rocking chair tattered and weather worn but still useful. "Best not go into that place grandpaw, no tellin' what sort of critters are in there."

"No, I'm not about to go in I just wanted a closer look at the place. Actually, it isn't a whole lot different than it was when I was a boy." Grandpaw then turned toward the east shielding his eyes from the bright morning sunlight and pointed.

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