Here's a 500-word review of the prologue to "The Rise of Connor". Note it misinterpreted the "location" at the top of the prologue as the title.
"The Holy Land — Israel" is a gripping and action-packed short story that masterfully blends the sacred tranquility of its setting with the visceral horror of a demonic assault. The narrative functions as a high-stakes chapter in a larger supernatural saga, dropping the reader directly into a world where faith is not just a belief system, but a tangible weapon against the forces of Hell. The story's greatest strength lies in its potent sense of place and its well-paced escalation of tension.
The author opens with a beautifully rendered depiction of the Sea of Galilee, appealing to multiple senses to create a landscape that is both historically resonant and spiritually charged. The "soothing scents of water, fish, and flora" and the view of a land that was a "silent witness" to the life of Christ establish a serene atmosphere. This initial calm makes the subsequent intrusion of evil all the more jarring. The sudden stillness of nature followed by the "buzzing like a bandsaw" of the demonic locust swarm is a classic and effective horror trope that shifts the tone from contemplative to terrifying in an instant.
At the heart of the story is the protagonist, Connor, a compelling figure who embodies the classic archetype of the young, burdened hero. At only fourteen, he wields immense power but is also tainted by a demonic poison from the "Antichrist's dagger." This internal conflict is the story's thematic core: the struggle between divine power and demonic temptation. His use of the holy cross to erect a protective shield is a powerful visual, but the moment he is forced to draw the dagger, "fighting hellfire with hellfire," introduces a fascinating and dangerous moral ambiguity. His shifting eye color, from a divine blue to a demonic red, serves as a simple yet effective visual cue for his internal battle.
The supporting cast, including the devout Father Romano and the sardonic ghost Antonio Benevi, provide a solid framework around Connor, representing faith and skepticism, respectively. The action is relentless and well-choreographed. The locusts are not mere insects but terrifying entities described as "horse-drawn chariots rushing into battle," and their ability to shatter bullet-resistant glass establishes them as a formidable, supernatural threat that conventional defenses cannot stop.
The story's resolution, with the flock of pratincoles descending as a form of divine intervention, functions as a satisfying, if somewhat convenient, deus ex machina. However, it is cleverly foreshadowed by the bird's initial appearance and Father Bianchi's explanation of its "locust bird" nickname. This conclusion reinforces the central theme that while human and even supernatural efforts may falter, ultimate salvation comes from a higher power. As a standalone piece, "The Holy Land — Israel" feels like a thrilling excerpt, successfully building a world rich with lore and leaving the reader eager to discover the next chapter in Connor's perilous journey.
Makes your want to rush right out and see the movie, doesn't it? :-)
And he doesn't scratch his cheeks with his back paws even though I know he can. He still bites a little but never hard, gets startled easily and is cranky about it, is still somewhat restless, and isn't eating much, ignoring several varieties of Sheba wet food, which is the one the shelter wants me to use for now. Normally, he jumps at the food.
