Light Highway

Light Highway
By: Tina Cotten-Sturgeon


Kansas City is behind me, and the road sign ahead tells me I'm 400 miles from my destination. My classes at Phoenix University, where I'm majoring in journalism, my life-long dream, begin in three days.

My empty, growling stomach and the "Food/Gas" sign ahead prompt me to take the next exit. A winding, two-lane divided road leads me into the small town of Lived, Arizona where I find a tiny cafe with a faded sign proclaiming "Home Cooking!"

My feet kick up a cloud of dust as I cross the graveled parking lot, enter the cafe and take a seat at the counter. I'm the only customer, I notice. A greasy menu is propped between the salt-and-peppershakers and a napkin dispenser.

The waitress, dressed in a putrid pink uniform, appears on the other side of the counter. I glance up only far enough to see her lopsided name tag: Mimi. "I'll have a cheeseburger, fries and a Pepsi," I tell her.

She acknowledges withan Mmmm, turns and hangs the check on the cook's wheel, and rotates it to face the kitchen. The wheel creaks like a scream.

A round clock on the wall, advertising a malt liquor, reads 9:53. Preoccupied, I suppose, I had not even noticed when the bright Arizona sun set and darkness took its place. Mimi set the glass of Pepsi in front of me, grunted, and turned away when I said, "Thank you." Maybe her lack of conversational skills accounted for the lack of customers, I thought.

A moment later, she wordlessly set a plate containing my burger and fries on the counter and walked away.

I shrug. Maybe old Mimi is just having a bad day, I muse, as I pour ketchup on my plate and salt my fries. Probably because I was starving, the burger tasted delicious. Then I dipped a thick French fry in ketchup and took a bite. I almost gagged. Spitting the vile tasting stuff into a napkin, I said to Mimi's narrow back, "Excuse me, ma'am. There's something wrong with this ketchup."

She turns and stands in front of me and, for the first time, I get a good look at her face. Thick black sutures, soaked in blood pierce her lips, sewing her mouth tightly closed. Leaning back so far I almost fell from the stool. I gasped, "My God! Your mouth! What the hell..."

Her sad eyes water as she hastily scribbles something on a napkin with the stub of a pencil and hands it to me. NOT KETCHUP! A BLOOD POTION! LEAVE QUICKLY, IF YOU ARE STILL HERE AT MIDNIGHT YOU WILL DIE!

The hands of the malt liquor clock indicate 11:44. I run to the door but, as I touch it, an electric shock jolts my hand. My skin darkens, burning, as a strange shape, an inverted cross inside a Star of David appears on the back of my hand!

I slam against the door again, but something holds it closed. An invisible force field of some sort. Panic overwhelms me. "Let me out!" I scream, turning around. But Mimi is gone.

Running, I round the corner of the counter and into the kitchen area. My shoes slip and I nearly fell in the pool of scarlet surrounding the body of a heavyset man wearing a cook's white uniform and apron. The smell of burned food, fresh blood and death makes me retch. "Oh God, oh God!" I whimper, seeing a partially open door at the back of the kitchen. I burst through it, into the night, free from the horror of the cafe.

Seconds later, safely inside my car, I speed away from the parking lot, my tires throwing gravel and dirt until I was back on the narrow road that brought me to this place. Constantly checking my rearview mirror, I broke all the posted speed limits until I reached the highway.

Shaking and breathless, but feeling safer by the mile, I glace once more in the rearview mirror-- and see a blue luminescent light following close behind me. I swerve left, then right, but the light stays on my tail. In desperation, I slam on the brakes. The light stops inches from my rear bumper.

Before I can hit the gas, the light infiltrates my car. The light is warm and its intense force surges through me. Sweat beads on my forehead. I close my eyes as the light dances upon my flesh; caresses my long hair. Shimmering fingers of light stroke my face, lips and eyes, tingling as they move over me.

The light seems to kiss my neck, sending shivers of pleasure through me. Light cups then gently fondles my breasts with invisible hands--soft strokes on my silken skin. Then fingertips glide over the cleft between my thighs, becoming more urgent. My head spins with ecstasy as the light enters me, large and powerful. I am under its spell as it thrusts and withdraws, over and over again...

Sunshine glaring through my car window wakes me. Dazed, I see I am back at the cafe! And, standing by my front door, wearing the ghastly pink uniform, is Mimi. She beckons me with a slow wave of her fingers.

Not nearly so scared in the bright sunlight as I had the night before, I unfold my cramped body from the car and approach her. Her sutured lips dripped blood. "Who did this to you, Mimi?" I ask, knowing she could not answer. Instead, she turns and motions for me to follow.

She enteres a ramshackle shed with broken windows behide the cafe and I follow. It smells of damp, rotting wood and decay. The rickety door swings shut behind me, squealing on rusted hinges.

Mimi took a book of matches from the pocket of her uniform, struck one against the cover and held it to the wick of a candle she found on a crate by the door. The small shed is dimly illuminated.

Mimi moved to a table and opens a thick, leather-bound book resting there. She holds the candle near the book and stabs her index finger at the page. I look over her shoulder and see what she is pointing at--a drawing of the blue light I encountered the previous night. Squinting, I read aloud the words below the illistration.

"The Light which follows thee,
Will seek revenge, exact its fee.
If not so lucky to share thy love
Beware of cruel Beelzebub!"

I look at Mimi. Her eyes show with terror, as she watchs the door. The blue Light is waiting there, visible through the door's splintered cracks. I continue reading:

To rid yourself of the Light,
You must have the Faith to fight.
Stand before evil, and chant these words aloud,
If goodness is in you, behold the purple cloud!"

The following writing was, I recognize from a course in ancient religions, in Aramaic. This would be no help to me! I had no idea how to pronounce the dead language. Then, to my wonderment, the words upon the page twist, melt, finally reforming--in English!

"Lucifer follows me, Lord,
to fill me with eternal sin.
Protect my soul, dear God,
save me from the demon within!"



I look at Mimi for understanding. In the wavering glow of the candle's flame I see her green eyes change first to a burning red, then the luminous blue of the Light.

I ran. Crashing open the door of the shed I bolted for my car. Once inside, I floored the gas pedal and head for the highway doing ninety, keeping a cautious eye on the rearview mirror, expecting the Light to be following me. But there is no sign of the blue Light, or any traffic for that matter, as I take the entry ramp to the freeway, swerving dangerously.

I ease my foot off the accelerator and slow to the speed limit. One last glace in the mirror told me I am in the clear--until I look forward again.

The Light wavers directly ahead, solidifies slightly, and takes the form of the Beast--Lucifer--as the book foretold.

I slam on the brakes, to no avail. Once more Light enters my body; caresses my face and breasts with evil. It tingles over me, planting wet, horrid kisses down, then back up my shivering body. Light rubs my arm softly, making the hair stand up as though electrified, until it reaches the mark left on my hand by my earlier experience at the cafe.

Light turns vicious! Sharp claws tear ribbons of flesh from my arms, trying to peel away the symbol of the upside down cross within the Star of David. My skin scorced and the nauseating smell of burned flesh assaults my nostrils.

"Stop, damn you!" I scream, remembering the words in the book. I chanted the age old prayer in a loud, firm voice:

"Lucifer follows me, Lord,
to fill me with eternal sin.
Protect my soul, dear God,
save me from the demon within!"

A sudden brilliant glare almost blinds me as the blue Light disappears. In its place is a cloud, glowing in majestic purple and white. AA sense of calm spreads over me as the cloud transforms into the figure of a man--an angelic man, with long hair and a beard. A crown of thorns encircles his smooth forehead. He is a composite of every painting I've ever seen of Jesus. Sweet Jesus.

The book was correct. Blue Light is Beelzebub! And the Purple cloud is the Saviour! The image floating within the cloud speaks in a voice so filled with tranquility and love I feel tears pool in my eyes.

"My child, I am sorry for your pain. Because you called upon Me, I walk with thee now, your hand forever in Mine. The strength of your faith allowed you to defeat the Light of Blue."

The tears sting my eyes and I blink to clear them. When I open my eyes again, and manage to focus, I am still driving down the highway--alone. The purple cloud is gone. My arms bear no wounds. Had I fallen asleep at the wheel and, in an instant, my brain conjured up a nightmare, I wondered? As is often the case with dreams, the details were already fading from my memory. All but one. Not wanting to lose it too, I took a pen from the sun visor and hastily printed the name of the town from my dream across the map of Arizona on the seat beside me. LIVED.

Pulling to the shoulder of the highway, I stopped, unfolded the map, and searched for a town called Lived. Not completely surprised, I found no such town listed along my route. "Nothing but a dream," I said to myself, refolding the map and tossing it onto the passenger seat. Where I had printed LIVED on the map was now upside down. But as I read the letters backward I realize with a chill what they spelled--DEVIL..DEVIL!!

Twisting the key in the ignition and gunning the engine, I speed away, afraid to look back.








Copyright 2007 by Tina Marie Cotten-Sturgeon. All rights reserved. No part of this story may be reproduced in any way shape or form without the express written concent of the author. All characters and events in this story a fictitous. Any resemblance to persons living or dead is strictly coincidental.