Read The Dark Path for Free Online

them?” Priest’s voice pressed forward, almost hypnotic. Again, the mention of the name broke something inside of the Dark Man and this time he cried out in pain.
    “I’m going to make you eat your own liver, you fuck!” screamed Vain, his anguish building, as the wall around his memories started to crumble. “Everyone you’ve ever cared about is going to curse your name right before they join you in Hell!”
    “Did your daughter curse you before she died, Martin?”
    The Dark Man’s screams cut the air like a reaper’s scythe and his mind exploded.

Chapter Five: Entering the Path
     
    Martin Roberts had been an officer in the Oklahoma City Police department. He enjoyed a perfect life with his wife Catherine and his beautiful daughter Angelique. They lived in a small, but comfortable house in a quiet suburb and were rarely disturbed by the various elements Martin faced in his day to day work as a beat cop.   
    One night however, something happened that changed all their lives forever.
    Martin and his partner Steve Jones were making their usual Thursday rounds. They’d been working together for almost a year and had fast become good friends. Jones and his wife Samantha often came around to Martin and Catherine’s home for weekend barbeques, and their children were enrolled in the same school. Things couldn’t have been more perfect for the two officers in their stereotypical suburbanite lives, and they loved every minute of them.
    But this Thursday had a different feel to it. Martin couldn’t put his finger on it, but there seemed to be an ominous shadow hanging over the two of them while they made their way down Park Street and into Columbine Boulevard. He didn’t mention this to Steve, simply shaking off the feeling. Full moon jitters.
    He was actually gazing up at the enormous moon when the call came through their radios of a possible code 19: domestic disturbance, just two blocks down–an apartment on Chelsea Avenue. Both police officers broke into a run and arrived before any other units.
    “Hold on Steve,” Martin cautioned, seeing Jones move to enter the complex. “Something’s not right; maybe we should wait for back up.”
    Suddenly, the pair heard gunshots from inside the building. Without a word Steve sprinted up the stairs, knowing Martin would follow him. The call had been to apartment 207, and both men approached the landing, guns drawn.
    Arriving at the second floor, Martin heard the voices of at least two men moving down the corridor towards where he and Steve stood. He couldn’t make out what they were saying, but their accents sounded Russian. He had seen enough Cold War movies to recognize the harsh tones of the language.
    The men drew closer; Steve stepped from the stairwell into the corridor with his gun drawn.
    “DOWN! Get down on the floor. Now!” Steve shouted at the surprised Russians. Taken aback by his partner’s rashness, Martin took a moment to react. That moment decided his destiny.
    The Russians ignored Steve’s order and instead produced handguns of their own from beneath their jackets. They leapt apart, making it impossible for him to cover them both by himself. Steve instinctively fired a shot at the closest of his opponents and caught him high in the chest, shattering his collarbone and exiting in a bloody spew. The man slumped to the ground, and Steve turned towards his second target.
    In the fraction of a second it took Martin Roberts to react and move into the corridor, he knew it was already too late. The bullet from the second Russian’s gun took Steve right in the cheek, exiting from the back of his head in a grizzly spray.
    Martin instinctively dropped to his knee, but not fast enough. A second bullet from the Russian’s gun smashed into his left shoulder and flung him to the ground. Initially feeling no pain, just an incredible numbness down his left side, gradually a slow burning turned into a flood of agony.
    “Ah, little policeman. You’re not dead