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Dead Religion by [David Beers]

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Dead Religion Kindle Edition

3.6 out of 5 stars 70 ratings

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Length: 211 pages Enhanced Typesetting: Enabled Page Flip: Enabled

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Editorial Reviews

From the Inside Flap

Brittany turned the key inside the lock and pushed on thedoor. She looked in for only a second before dropping her keys and purse. Thecouches were splayed open, the stuffing pulled out and strewn around the livingroom. The material covering the back of one had been slashed so many times itwas little more than ribbons. A black X was smeared across the televisionscreen, the cord that should have been stuck in the wall cut in two.

Sweat opened up on Brittany's face and scalp, her heart beatspiking.

No burglar did this but she didn't want to enter. She'drather walk off a goddamn cliff than go inside her house. Brittany had seenthings like this--sure--but never this severe. Never seen knives slash. Neverseen drawings on their television. Never seen anything this fucked up.

Are you in danger? The question came unbidden.

Does it matter?

She walked in, leaving the keys and purse behind. She movedslowly, trying to come to grips with her house. She could see inside thekitchen from where she stood in the living room--disarray didn't describe it,neither did devastating. Plates on the floor, broken, with blood smearing some,already beginning to dry in other spots. Pans, knives, and silverware werescattered across the floor. The faucet poured water into the sink, flowing overthe basin. All the drawers and cabinets stood open and the chairs to thekitchen table were missing. Someone (your dead husband, darling) hadtipped the table on its side carved words underneath it--although she couldn'tread all of it from where she stood.

She could see the word mine. Brittany didn't careabout the rest; she only wanted to find Alex. She glanced around the livingroom again, seeing something new. The wall held knives in it. Seven butcherknives, all stabbed hilt deep into the white wall. They formed a smiley face,two knives for the eyes, and a semi-circle below with the other five. Blooddripped down the wall from one of the blades; it would reach the carpet soon (andthat shit won't rinse out, honey).

Brittany could see a pile of clothes in front of theirbedroom door. He was in their room.

Brittany moved down the hall, jogging now. She neared theclothes. Blood soaked through most of what she saw. She held her breath--theshirt could have been dipped in a washing bucket that held blood instead ofwater.

She stopped. The door to the room stood open and the onlylight in it came from inside the closet, outlining the closed door.

"Alex?" she called from the bedroom door.

A cry came from the closet--maybe from pain, maybe surprise.Brittany stepped inside, seeing the trail of blood from the clothes for thefirst time. Her husband was inside. Bleeding--and that became all that mattered.She ran to the closet, opening the door and finding Alex--the back of thecloset, clothes pulled from hangers and strewn all around him.

Alex looked down at his left wrist; a knife poked carefullyinto the flesh and blood forming around the point. Skin stood flayed open onAlex's chest with blood running down to his bare groin. A deep, dark 'X' wascarved into his body. The cuts began at his collar bone and traveled down tohis ribs on both sides.

Brittany understood that wasn't simply blood; it was lifeleaving her husband--still pumping, trying to find veins to carry it home, butonly finding gashes that forced it into the world. Even if she could get theknife away from his wrist, he would still die if they didn't get to a hospital,bleeding to death in this closet.

"Baby, put it down. Put the knife down." She walked inside,stepping on more clothes stained with blood. Alex looked up, his face drippingsweat.

"He's here, in the house," Alex whispered. "He's come for menow." Animal like fear radiated from him.

"No, no one's here. It's you, just you and me, sweetie. Putthe knife down, put it down and I'll protect you--I swear to fucking God,honey."

He looked down at his wrist; his right hand tightened on thehandle.

Brittany looked at his grip and simply swung her fist,connecting with her husband's temple. As he fell back, she reached for theknife, grabbing it by the blade, feeling the knife slice through her palm,sinking even deeper as she pulled on it. Alex gave the hilt up and Brittanyflung the knife behind her.
She reached for him--both of them bleeding now--and pulled himclose anyway.

Alex fell into her as a doll would, nothing holding himback. He wrapped his arms around her waist and tears blossomed.

Kneeling in front, Brittany put her lips to his neck andkissed. "I'm here now. It's okay, it's okay, it's okay," she whispered.

About the Author

David Beers is in his mid twenties. He blogs at He is currently finishing up his MBA, and working on his second novel--tentatively titled End Times. --This text refers to an out of print or unavailable edition of this title.

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3.6 out of 5 stars
3.6 out of 5
70 customer ratings
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Reviewed in the United States on July 29, 2013
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Reviewed in the United States on April 8, 2014
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Reviewed in the United States on December 7, 2012
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2.0 out of 5 stars Sorry but disappointing
Reviewed in the United Kingdom on September 15, 2014
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