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This is the end of chapter 2 where Christina'a uncle, Shilah Little Wolf, who is a Miccosukee (Native American) has an encounter

Chapter 2 : Shilah Little Wolf has an encounter with the one who comes for the blood of his blood

In the beginning, my words were like venom to anyone who could hear

them. I would kill hordes of men to avenge my brother’s death, but I could

not make a move on the strange man as he might be innocent. If he was not

innocent, he was my enemy; but as I sat there, I meditated and then prayed.

I realized with the abilities he had, it would be untrue if I did not say there

was a hint of fear that was coming from my heart. As a warrior who speaks to

the one that gives us breaths, I was at a point where I did not think I would

be. I continued to pray until I suddenly felt a strange presence. I was nervous

as I could feel the strange presence getting closer. I rose up from my position

on the floor and without delay made my way to Sister and Nightbird. I woke

Sister up and told her to go watch Nightbird.

"Was there something wrong?" Sister cautiously asked.

I was in the same situation when Nightbird asked me the question about

whom I was looking at. The circumstances were very much the same, so again

I could not answer the question because I was not sure. This feeling was very

much spiritual. I took my cloak that holstered my weapons. I did not know

who or what was coming, but I would be prepared.

When I stood outside, this strange presence was coming from the direction

where Sister said they saw the police vehicle. Nightbird ran toward the police

vehicle but was suddenly succumbed by the pains. I made my way to where

the vehicle was. When I reached the area where the vehicle was, there was a

strange dried up red patch on the ground. It looked like clumps of blood. I’d

never seen anything like it before. If this was blood, this was not the blood

that flowed through a normal man.

My investigation came to an immediate stop. The one who came to confess

his intentions was in the foliage in front of me. My cloak covered the weapons

that would complement my immediate intentions, and I intended to enact my

intentions that night if I had to. I could feel it. It was near, but it did not come

for me. It was there for the blood of my blood.

"Nightbird, I vow that there will be no more apologies, only action," I said

to myself as I cautiously moved forward.

I moved into the foliage as the presence continued to get stronger. It was

there, but it was not moving. That could only mean one thing. It was lying in

wake, watching, possibly watching me. My movements were now cautiously

subtle, but my vision was in constant motion. The ambience of the night did

not help my situation. With my every step, there was a new calculation of

strategy with whatever might happen. I made my commitment by coming deep

into the darkness of the foliage. I stood firm and waited for its commitment. Its

action would only condone my reaction. The night breeze ruffled the foliage,

and I remained focused for any inaccuracies in the ruffles. There was a sound

that was made to blend in with the ruffled foliage. I was ready. I reached my

hand slowly into my cloak with my eyes remaining ever so diligent toward

the darkness. A huge figure raced toward me, and I immediately unleashed

my intentions toward it. My blade was unsheathed quicker than it had ever

been, and the strike toward this dark figure was even quicker. Was my strike

successful? The speed along with the size of this beast led me to believe that

I would not be able to continue if this was not ended on my own terms. There

was still a constant movement among the brush. I still remained focused. My

answer on whether or not my strike was successful was made in my next

statement,

"Are you the one who heard my thoughts? Are you the one that ends

my passage? If it is you, I apologize. You continue to breathe after I struck my

blow. I still feel your presence; and most importantly, your blood runs cold

on my blade, demon!"

The overconfidence of my words was answered with another strike by this

figure. I was not as lucky the second time. His strike left three gaping wounds

underneath my left ribs. My blood spewed out freely. I immediately reached

with my free hand, clutching my wounds and applied pressure. I then heard

scurrying footsteps that were leading away from the foliage. The demon was

gone, but I paid a very large and painful price. I headed back to the home to

tend to my wounds. As I made it to the home, my vision was starting to blur.

The faces of many of my family began to flash before my very eyes. It took

all of my strength to reach the porch as I started to stumble. Sister was inside

waiting for me. When she noticed me from the window, she quickly came

to my aid. Sister helped me to Big Brother’s room where she stabilized the

bleeding and bound my wounds. I lay there, and my eyes started to close. But

they closed for me to rest and not to die.

What happened that night gave me a new thought to think about. In all

my years of being a warrior, I was taught to go into battle without fear. That

night was an exception. If I would have been more confident than I was and

charged head-on, the resulting outcome might have been different. The fear

in my heart was what kept me cautious and more attentive. The fear was what

saved my life that night.

"My eyes fade to dark, but I will see you again if the light is once again

permitted to enter my eyes . . . demon," I said wearily.