D.C. Akers's Blog, page 7

Haven Shorts – Chapter 7 – Episode 12 – A Stranger Magic

Chapter 7 – Episode 12

Rain began to fall in earnest at about eight o’clock that night. The tiny raindrops beaded up on Sam’s bedroom window and shimmered in the moonlight before streaking down like silver ribbons onto the wooden ledge. The street light down below flickered on and off as it always did.

Sam lay on his bed with the lights off staring at the ceiling, and contemplating revenge on his stupid sister. He also thought of adding Daniel Harris to his mental list of paybacks for ruining his favorite t-shirt and leaving him with that loser of a garment he had to wear home.

Sam sat up in his bed and stared at the small puddle that was starting to form on his window sill. The lightning cracked and thunder rumbled, followed by another bright flash that streaked across the sky. It was a good thing he didn’t go to the caves, he thought. He could see himself getting trapped there with Travis until the whole storm had passed.

Sam forced himself to stand up and grab the bath towel that was draped over his desk chair. The leak from his window was now dripping onto the floor. He carefully folded the towel and placed it snugly under the edge of the window sill.

Lightning struck again. The street light below popped; sparks of electricity flew into the air like fireworks, then slowly fell to the ground.

In that moment, Sam thought he saw someone standing next to the light post. He waited, but it was too dark. His eyes were still trying to adjust from the sudden flash of light. Was it the stranger from before? He couldn’t be sure.

Suddenly, lightning flashed again and Sam saw him. The dark figure stood next to the street light in his long coat and holding his staff, looking up at Sam.

Thunder roared and it was dark once more. Sam quickly rubbed his eyes, trying hard to focus as the lightning struck again, blinding him momentarily. He searched frantically through the spots of green and blue floating in front of him, but the stranger was gone, vanished into thin air.

Then a small click echoed from behind him, and the light in his bedroom switched on. Sam whirled around to see his mother standing in his doorway.

She had her long brown hair pulled in a tight pony tail that draped across her right shoulder. Her light blue eyes were trapped behind a pair of thin reading glasses. She was wearing a light pink robe and house-shoes.

“Mom, turn off the light!” Sam whispered, worried that the stranger could see him now. Alisa Dalcome turned off the light and stood there in the doorway. Her silhouette stretched across the wooden floor.

“Shut the door, something’s out there!” Sam whispered.

“What? What on earth are you talking about?” Mrs. Dalcome asked as she closed the door to his room. The lightning flickered again. Mrs. Dalcome scuffled across the cluttered floor, trying to reach Sam.

“Mom, I swear there’s someone out there!”

“Don’t swear. You know I hate that! Now see there, you made me say hate! I don’t like that word either!” His mother could be a bit old-fashioned at times, Sam thought. Words such as swear, hate, and liar were off-limits in the Dalcome household. Mrs. Dalcome thought there were better ways, nicer ways, to get your point across.

“Why are you whispering?” she asked.

“Mom, shhhhhhh!” Sam said, trying desperately to see any sign of the man outside.

“Sam, you need to clean this room. You can’t even walk in here!” she said, not bothering at all to whisper.

Sam wasn’t listening to a word she said; the stranger was out there, he was sure of it. He may have vanished from sight but that didn’t mean he was gone.

Mrs. Dalcome finally made it to the window; she grasped one corner of the window sill and placed her other hand on Sam, trying to keep her footing amidst the piles of clothes. She reluctantly leaned toward the window, scanning the front yard and the street below.

“Oh, Sam, I don’t see a thing.”

“I’m telling you. I saw something!”

“Well, if you did, it’s gone now.”

Sam was starting to get frustrated with her. “It wasn’t an it, it was a man!” he said in a bitter voice.

“Don’t talk to me that way, Samuel!” she snapped back.

Sam didn’t say anything for a moment. He continued to stare out the bedroom window. It wasn’t worth it, he thought to himself. The stranger was gone, again.

The whole day had gone horribly wrong, as far as he was concerned, and now he had no patience left to tell his mother the entire story, even if he wanted to. He was mad, frustrated, and too tired to argue.

“I’m sorry,” Sam said, defeated. He hadn’t meant to take it out on her; she was the only one in the room.

Mrs. Dalcome looked down at Sam. His eyebrows furrowed as he stared solemnly at a star in the distance. There was clearly something bothering him. Something more than whatever he had, or hadn’t, seen outside. She reached over to his desk, pushing aside the magazines that covered the switch on the base of the lamp, and turned it on.

The light was dim, but it seemed bright after the two of them had stood in the dark for so long. Mrs. Dalcome grabbed Sam’s hand and sat on his bed, pulling him down with her. Sam sat next to her, holding her hand and staring at the floor.

“What is it Sam, what’s wrong with you?”

Sam didn’t say anything at first. How could he make her understand that there was nothing she could do? He couldn’t say anything more about the stranger without sounding like a nut case. As for Sarah, there was no way his mother was going to trade her in for a really cool brother, or even give her a good smack upside the head. Which she deserves, Sam thought. No, today started out bad, and had just gotten worse, and it wasn’t his mother’s fault. He was smart enough to know that.

“I can’t help you if you won’t talk to me, Sam,” she said, patting him on the hand.

“I don’t know, Mom. It’s everything,” Sam said, looking down at the cluttered floor.

She wrapped her arm around him and gave him a gentle squeeze. “What’s everything?”

“I don’t know … like everything … like I hate Sarah …”

“Saaam,” she said in that tone she used when hate came up.

“Okay, I don’t hate her, but I really, really, really dislike her!” Mrs. Dalcome tried her best not to smile.

“Sam, she loves you.”

Sam couldn’t believe she was going to take Sarah’s side on this. Sarah was the meanest person he knew, except for Daniel Harris, and he did hate Daniel Harris. “No she doesn’t, Mom. She’s mean and it’s not just her. It’s school, it’s here, it’s my whole life!”

Mrs. Dalcome removed her hand from his shoulder and gently clutched his chin, forcing him to look into her eyes.

“Sam, look at me. I know it’s hard being thirteen. It’s not an easy age for anyone; it wasn’t for me, your Dad, not even for Sarah. But it will pass and things will get better. I know that’s hard to hear now, but it’s true.”

It was hard to hear now because it didn’t fix anything. Sam was still empty on the inside, ordinary, and well, let’s face it, heading nowhere.

“I just feel alone sometimes. It’s hard to explain.” He could feel himself getting irritated. He didn’t want to talk about this anymore.

“Well, you’re not alone. I’m here. I have always been here, and I don’t think that’s going to change, do you?” she said with a soft smile. She released his chin and placed her hand on his back again.

“That’s not what I’m talking about, not alone … alone. I mean like …” He paused for a moment; he could not find the words. Where were the words? Why were the words not there to explain the emptiness he was feeling? Now he just sounded like a bumbling idiot.

“Oh, never mind …” he said, discouraged. Why did he even bother to speak? The words never came out right anyway.

“Is it something at school? Did you and Sarah have a fight? Was it—”

“It’s all of those things, Mom, and more! I hate school, I hate Sarah, and I hate where we live! It’s just all wrong, it just feels all wrong! I just wish Dad was here!”

Sam heard the words come out, but it was too late to stop them. He didn’t mean it but there they were, out there where he could never take them back.

He looked in his mother’s eyes; he could tell he had hurt her feelings. She let her arm slide down across his back and slowly stood up. She stepped over the piles of clothes, books and video games until she reached the doorway. Sam’s eyes followed her every inch of the way. She opened the door, walked out into the hallway and turned back, reaching back to grab the door knob. Sam saw her eyes were full of tears as she cleared her throat.

“I’m sorry you feel that way Samuel, but I am trying, and for the record we all love you.” She turned away as tears started to roll down her cheek and gently closed the door behind her.

Sam sat on the edge of his bed staring at the back of the door in silence. The rain had stopped, and the storm had passed, but the frustration lingered.

In one day he had managed to hurt his mother’s feelings and make Travis mad for not going to the caves with him. Not to mention that Sarah hated him, he was cut from head to toe from the attack of the rosebushes, and there was a vanishing stranger stalking him.

No matter how you looked at it, this was a bad ending to a very bad day.

**I will post one EPISODE each week, but there are 50 EPISODE, so this may take a while. If you just can’t wait, you can buy (Just .99) the complete book and the rest of the HAVEN series (More Coming Soon) at Amazon.

You can sign up for my newsletter, follow me on Twitter, or like my Facebook page. For more information, see my website dc-akers.com . Your support is appreciated. Thanks for reading!

Terra Vonnel and the Skulls of Aries – Chapter 7

Answers

 

This was a long time coming, and she hoped her father had been right… that apart from being gate keys, the skulls also contained a hidden map to Mount Aries.

No one knew the true location of Mount Aries. There were plenty of stories of pirates that had run across it, but every story ended the same way.  No pirate that ever found Mount Aries had lived to tell about it.

Terra had her own theories about the legendary island, and hers were based on fact, not fabricated stories.  After all, her father had met one of the ancient descendants that actually hid the Skulls of Aries to protect its treasure–a treasure thought to be too powerful for humankind. The race was called the Vendelli. Its members were human for the most part, but at the same time they possessed reptilian features. Their eyes were like those of a snake, with slits for pupils and no eyelashes. Their tongues were said to be forked under close inspection, and their skin had patches of scales visible only in the moonlight. Her father claimed they wore veils and long robes to hide their features. Legend had it they walked among us as diplomats and infiltrators, pretending to be humans.

It was this Vendelli that her father had saved more than thirteen years ago in a battle in the Caribbean. Before succumbing to injuries sustained in battle, he told her father of the Skulls of Aries and the treasure they protected. It wasn’t until after Terra’s mother’s death that her father became obsessed with finding it.  If the Skulls of Aries protected a treasure that could go back in time, then perhaps he could save his wife before the killer got to her.  That was his plan anyway.

Terra’s mother was his one true treasure. Piracy came naturally for her father, but his love for her mother was like no treasure he had ever found or would ever find again. It was a little over two years ago that Terra had taken her father’s place in searching for the Skulls of Aries.  He had fallen ill, and from what she heard, he was not getting any better.

The Skulls were just the first step to finding and saving her mother. They still needed to narrow down the date and, of course, find the killer.  The date was a problem because her father had been away on a hunt as usual and Terra was only five at the time.  Her mother was murdered in her sleep and not discovered until weeks later when her father had returned.

As for the killer… there was a long list of suspects—even spanning different races–who wanted to see her father in shanks… or better yet, dead! The Goblins were at the very top of that list and with good reason. Terra’s father had been wanted by the Goblin race for as long as she could remember. In his youth, he had stolen their sacred artifact known as the Vanquisher, which in time he had given to his daughter.

The magical weapon was forged as a gift for the Goblin king, Talon Kor, by a race known as the Nitra. Terra’s father discovered its location the night before the ceremony and stole it from Nitra’s forge. Once King Talon received word the one of a kind sword was stolen he was outraged. In retribution for their carelessness the king ordered his armies of Goblins to destroy Nitra city. He spared no one, and for several years after the massacre the Goblins hunted down the remaining Nitra like animals until every last one was dead. They never did find Terra’s father, but somehow they managed to find her mother–or so Terra thought. There was still something that burned in her mind. Why would they kill her mother and leave Terra alive? Why not wait for her father to return and kill him, too? After all, he was the one that had stolen the sword. These were questions Terra would have answers to someday, she thought.

Terra had survived on bread and water left in the house at the time.  She still remembered crying at the foot of her mother’s bedroom door, hoping and praying that it would open.  Those prayers were never answered. Her mother had been killed by someone, or something, leaving Terra alone.

It was at the age of five that Terra knew one day she would find this person, this thing, and put an end to its life. She had the Skulls of Aries now, but she needed the Orb of Time if she was to go back and save her mother.

Terra was a natural when it came to piracy. She had learned from the best, most notorious pirate that had ever lived.  His family had remained a secret because he wanted them protected, kept safe from the people that hunted him.  In the end, there was no place safe enough for the man she called father and the world called Bartholomew Roberts.

Terra carefully opened the rucksack and removed one skull at a time, placing them carefully on the table facing her.  The skulls were made of silver, with small horns that curled down and extended outward on both ends. The emerald eyes, made from some kind of jewel Terra had never seen, were set deep in the sockets.

The Vendelli were afraid that the Orb of Time would be used to change the outcome of battles, thereby changing the fate of the world.  Being a pirate, Terra had different plans. Once she had stolen the Orb of Time, time, as it were, would be on her side.  She would need funding for her quest, and that meant stealing a little something here and there.  She liked treasure in general, but she loved the rare, one-of-a-kind treasures the most.  What woman doesn’t like to collect a little something for herself? she thought.  Terra planned to become the richest woman in the world while at the same time seeking out her mother’s killer.  She would like to have taken credit for that brilliant plan, but it was in fact her father’s idea.  “A quest needs funding,” he liked to say, and funding they would have.  They would also find the answers they were looking for if it was the last thing Terra ever did.

Terra reached for the chair near the map desk and pulled it over to the table.  She slowly sat back in the chair, her gaze fixed on the pair of emerald eyes staring back at her.

She found their penetrating stare more than a little creepy. It was as if they were staring into her soul.

Her father had told her that not only did she need both skulls to unlock the Gate of Monticule, but she would need both skulls to even find Mount Aries.  According to her father, inscribed at the base of each skull was one piece of the incantation.  When read aloud together they would activate the skulls, displaying a secret map that would reveal the location of Mount Aries.

 

**I will post one Chapter each week, so this may take a while. If you just can’t wait, you can the complete book at Amazon for FREE.

You can sign up for my newsletter, follow me on Twitter, or like my Facebook page. For more information, see my website dc-akers.com . Your support is appreciated. Thanks for reading!

 

Haven Shorts – Chapter 6 – Episode 11 – A Stranger Magic

Chapter 6 – Episode 11

It began to sprinkle as they finally arrived at Sam’s house. Travis was still rambling as Sam headed for the rosebushes, like always. Every day the paper guy would throw the newspaper into the rosebush, so it was a real chore to try to get it out. Sam was pretty sure the paper guy did it on purpose to get back at Sam’s mother for turning him down when he offered to take her out on a date.

The bushes were full of small thorns that looked like tiny shark fins protruding from the branches. Some of the areas were covered with spider webs, which was unusual since the roses were supposed to be insect-free. It was the reason his mother had planted them to begin with.

Sam grabbed a broken branch from the ground below and tore a hole in the spider web, big enough to reach through and grab the paper. As he brought the stick back through the hole he noticed a large black and green spider attached to the end of it.

It was the same type of spider Travis had been playing with this morning. Upon closer inspection, Sam could see six red eyes arranged into three pairs that formed a semicircle on the front of its pea-size head. Its segmented body was branded with three green stripes and a small circle near its head.

Sam quickly threw the stick out onto the road, then scanned himself and the rosebush to make sure there were no other spiders hiding anywhere.

He stared into the prickly bush. It would take his complete concentration if he was going to stick his arm into the rosebush and pull the newspaper out with any skin left on his arm. One false move meant pain, and lots of it. Sam knelt down in front of the bushes and slowly placed his hand through the destroyed web, and into the tangled array of stems and thorns toward the rolled up paper.

“So what do you think?” Travis said with a hint of enthusiasm.

“Think about what?” Sam was half-listening as he weaved his hand up and down through the maze of stems.

“About going to the caves tonight. It’s Friday night, we’re out of school and we have nothing else to do.”

“Um, I don’t know Trav, OUCH!” Sam nicked himself on the top part of his hand. “That’s one,” he mumbled to himself. If he could get out of the bushes with less than three cuts he would break his own record.

“What, like you got some big plans or something?”

“No, it’s just been a long … OUCH … week, that’s all, and I’m kind of tired … GOT YOU!” Sam had the paper in his hand. He had done it, now he was ready to make his exit.

“What are you like eighty? You sound like my grandpa!”

“Whatever Trav, it’s just been one thing after another, and now I’m digging in a rosebush wearing a t-shirt that says ‘I See Ninjas.’ I mean, do I need to really push my luck?”

Sarah was rounding the corner of Giddyup Lane when she noticed her brother and Travis by the rosebushes. The day had gone by so fast that she barely had enough time to dwell on what had happened this morning with Marcus Snider. But she was dwelling on it now.

Had she caused all of that to happen this morning? Did her anger cause the pipes to break and the water to burst from the ground? Sarah sighed; there was no point in denying it any longer. If she did, she would only be lying to herself. When she got mad, bad things happened, and when they did it usually involved—

Sarah stopped in her tracks. She felt her skin crawl with sudden awareness. It usually involved water. Her mind raced back to the glass on the kitchen counter—it was filled with water. The pipes in the walls of the building were filled with water. The manhole cover had flown into the air because of the water underneath the ground.

Every single time within the last month that there had been a strange event, two things had always been present—her anger and water. Was it just a coincidence or were the two related?

Sarah started to walk again in a daze, her mind quickly sifting through the details of the events. This was so incomprehensible that she could barely wrap her mind around it.

Before she realized it, she was standing just a few feet away from Travis and her brother. Sarah straightened her back. She could not show that anything unusual had happened. It was a good thing that she had run into the gymnasium locker room this morning where she dried her clothes and put herself back together.

She would need to keep this a secret until she figured it all out. She would need to act as if nothing bizarre had happened today. She wouldn’t say a word about almost destroying the corner bakery and sporting goods store, almost killing Marcus and herself with a manhole cover, or the fight with loser Barry. No, she would keep it all inside like she always did. No one could be trusted with this.

Sarah took a deep breath and pulled herself together. Act like you always do, she told herself. She watched as Travis and Sam continued their conversation, unaware of her presence. Sarah began to grin as a thought entered her mind. Act like you always do.

The boys were so caught up in their own conversation that they never saw Sarah sneak up behind them. She moved closer, creeping up to Travis until she was only inches away.

His mouth was still moving ninety to nothing. His bad aftershave was almost unbearable but she stayed focused. She stood there calmly and took another deep breath and as loud as she could screamed out,

“MORONS!”

Travis jumped forward, screaming at the top of his lungs like a frightened school girl, and knocked Sam, who had almost gotten the paper out, face-first into the rosebushes. He let out a scream of his own as the thorns slashed across his forearms and face.

“What in the world?” he cried, whipping his head around to see what was going on.

Sarah stood in front of them, red-faced with her hands over her mouth.

“Have you lost your freaking mind?” Sam screamed back at her!

Sarah tried to apologize between sudden bursts of laughter.

“Oh my god, that was so funny! Sam, I promise I had no idea Travis was going to scream like that and kick you into the roses!”

Sam was not amused in the least; he was mad. He was hurt, and today had been, without question, one of the worst days of his life.

He stood up slowly. His arms and face were bleeding from the scratches and tiny thorns that had lodged in his skin. He felt defeated. He stared down at the newspaper that he had dropped. It looked seemingly untouched in the middle of the twisted chaos they called a rosebush.

Sarah tried to conceal her laughter with her hands, but she still snickered under her breath as she tried to keep her composure. Travis stood with his hand on his chest as if he were about to pass out.

“I said I was sorry,” Sarah said still laughing.

“Shut up Sarah, and leave me alone!” Sam shouted and turned toward the house.

“Hey where are you going?” Travis panted, “Are we not going to the caves?”

Sam slowly climbed the stairs of the front porch with his head hung low. He turned and looked back at Travis.

“Not tonight Travis. Go home.”

**I will post one EPISODE each week, but there are 50 EPISODE, so this may take a while. If you just can’t wait, you can buy (Just .99) the complete book and the rest of the HAVEN series (More Coming Soon) at Amazon.

You can sign up for my newsletter, follow me on Twitter, or like my Facebook page. For more information, see my website dc-akers.com . Your support is appreciated. Thanks for reading!

Terra Vonnel and the Skulls of Aries – Chapter 6

 

Home

 

Once aboard the Aspen, Terra removed her weapons and placed them on the small table in her cabin. Cannon fire rang out as the Sea Ghouls lay waste to the Mont Delia, sending her and the remains of her crew to Davey Jones’ Locker.

The flicker of soft candlelight illuminated the dark walls of the captain’s quarters. After years at sea, the Aspen had become more than just a ship to Terra; it had become her home. The Aspen was a rare, magical vessel. It was the only ship known to man to have been built by witches. The Witches of Montoria had built the Aspen back in the late 1700s. A period referred to as the “Burning Times” had led to the execution of about half a million witches throughout Europe. This battle raged on from the 1400s until 1792, when the last of the witches had been destroyed. In a last ditch effort, High Priestess Ersilia Aspentainia commanded the Witches of Montoria to build their first and only battleship. It was said that Ersilia had given her power of healing to the great ship, a transfer of magic that in the end cost Ersilia her life. Bearing the name of her creator, the Aspen set sail. Quickly it became known as “the ship of a thousand lives.” Whenever it was damaged in battle, the ship was known to miraculously heal itself as if it were alive. The ship itself was responsible for destroying several hundred armadas during the war. It became the most notorious ship on the high seas and feared by all. In the end, not even the Aspen could save the witches from complete annihilation. Only a handful of Montoria Witches remained as a crew when they set sail into the unknown, never to be seen again. Some say the witches committed suicide; some say they joined Ersilia, giving their souls to the ship. No one knows what really happened. The Aspen was never heard of again–until two years ago, when Terra discovered her adrift in a fog bank near the city of Tunis in the Mediterranean. To this day, Terra was unable to explain what drew her to the coastal waters. Part of it stemmed from a dream she’d had the night before. In the morning, she gave Coven the coordinates for Tunis, not knowing why she should go, knowing only that she must.

Two years later the Aspen had become as famous as she was back then. Nothing about her appearance had changed except for her sails, which no longer carried the insignia of the Montoria coven. Instead, the Aspen was fitted with blood-red sails and the crest of the Sea Vixen, which consisted of the sun, the initials S V, two dragons, two revolvers, and the Vanquisher.

Terra stood as if in a trance. She was tired now, and even with the Skulls of Aries in her possession there was still more work to be done. The bright moon that had finally emerged from the once billowing clouds poured through the four large windows on the port side of her cabin.  Just under the windows was a map table, a red-cushioned chair, and a half-bookshelf with a large Victorian oval washbasin.  The floor and walls were the same charcoal gray as the rest of the Aspen, with accents of red in the form of pillows, rugs, and drapes.  A short, winding staircase set in the center back wall led up to the top loft, where her bed, clothes, and a small writing desk were.  Small artifacts littered the shelves on the starboard side of the room.  It was Terra’s private treasure collection, which had been acquired during past adventures.

“Where would you like this, Vixen?”  a voice asked from behind.  Terra turned to see Coven standing there holding a rucksack in one hand and a mug in the other.

Coven was a tall, thin pirate with neck-length brown hair and hazel eyes. He wore a white collared shirt and burgundy vest inlaid with Asian embroidery, black pants, and boots.  His weapons of choice were two Italian revolvers given to him by her father for his eighteenth birthday. They were strapped to him at all times in crisscrossing holsters around his chest.

“On the table is fine,” she said and moved her weapons to the side to make more room.

Coven placed the rucksack on the table and handed her the mug.

“You best drink it while it’s still hot,” he said.

“Tea?” she asked.

“Yes, the green kind you’re so fond of.”

Terra smiled. Coven’s innocence was at times charming. He was a pirate through and through so the finer things often escaped him. He was not one to appreciate the robust flavor of a good imported tea, or the comforts of a cabin that reminded her of home.  For Coven his home had always been the sea, and his comforts consisted solely of his pistols.

“It’s not really green, silly.”

Coven smirked and stared back at Terra as if waiting to see if she were going to drink it.

She looked at Coven for a minute and then turned the mug and peered inside.

“It’s not green, is it?” Terra asked, a little worried now.

When Terra looked back at Coven, the corners of his mouth began to curl upwards. “Will that be all, Vixen?  I do have a ship to run, you know?” Before Terra could answer, Coven turned and walked out of her cabin, closing the door behind him.

Terra looked back down at the mug and sniffed it just to make sure. To her relief she could smell the bittersweet combination of leaves and flowers with hints of citrus that she recognized as being from her father’s private collection back home.  He had secretly packed it away for her before she left more than two years ago.  She was just fifteen back then when she left home to complete the quest her father had become too ill to finish.

Terra took a small sip of tea and realized Coven was right.  It was hot, but it felt good on the back of her throat, especially now that it was still sore from the vampire’s chokehold on her neck.

Terra sat the mug down next to the rucksack on the table.  Now to find out the secret location of Mount Aries, she thought.

**I will post one Chapter each week, so this may take a while. If you just can’t wait, you can the complete book at Amazon for FREE.

You can sign up for my newsletter, follow me on Twitter, or like my Facebook page. For more information, see my website dc-akers.com . Your support is appreciated. Thanks for reading!

Important Update For Google Books

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To get started, visit https://play.google.com/books/publish/. Thank you for partnering with us to make your books available on Google Books. We’re excited to provide an improved experience for you, and we hope you enjoy your new account interface.

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Haven Shorts – Chapter 5 – Episode 10 – A Stranger Magic

Chapter 5 – Episode 10

When first period rolled around Sam was beginning to feel a little optimistic about the last day of eighth grade. But before long the optimism vanished. His first class was gym, a class that he did not excel in at all.

Coach Pillars was a tall, rather portly, balding man. He had the brilliant idea of playing dodgeball for the last day of the year. Sam hated the idea. Having balls thrown at his head at light speed did not sound like fun to him.

Like always, Sam was chosen last, next to David Johnson who had broken his leg about six months ago and still had a limp. And, like always, he was the first person to get out. This time it was Mark Preston, ex-football player, who threw the ball from the opposite end of the gym and smacked Sam in the chest. The sheer force of the impact took Sam off his feet. Next to get out was David; he took a ball to the face.

When class ended Sam made his way into the locker room to find his locker door wide open. His deodorant, towel, pants, and shower gel were all on the floor. But there was no shirt. His vintage 1976 KISS Destroyer t-shirt was gone. Sam began to panic. He got that shirt for Christmas last year from his mother, and there was no telling how much she spent on it. It was his favorite t-shirt!

Sam looked to the two remaining people in the locker room, David Johnson and Steve Allen.

“Hey, did either of you see who did this? My shirt is gone!”

David, who had been hit in the head eight times out of the nine games they played, was sitting on one of the locker room benches with his face in his hands.

“I can’t see my hands Sam, much less anything else,” he said.

Steve shut his locker and said as he walked by, “Just so you know—it wasn’t me, but if I were you, I would start with the toilet stalls.” Then he smiled and left the room.

“What? Noooo!” Sam cried in disbelief. He ran to the first stall and kicked the door open. There was no shirt. Sam continued to kick open each door one after another until he came to last stall. There he saw his vintage KISS t-shirt on the edge of the toilet. To his relief it was not in the water. But as he stepped closer it became all too clear. The vintage t-shirt had been torn into three separate pieces, two of which were floating in the used toiled bowel.

Sam’s heart sank. He loved that shirt and now it was gone forever. How in the world was he going to explain this to his mother?

After putting on his pants he threw the remains of his locker in the garbage. Sam was not taking any chances; there was no telling what the perpetrator had done to those things. He quickly made his way to the school office. He felt ridiculous walking through the hallway wearing his sweaty gray t-shirt from gym class. But that was far better than the t-shirt he found in the lost-and-found. Since it was the last day of school there were only two shirts left—one red, one pink. Sam chose the red. As fate would have it the t-shirt had white letters that said, “I See Ninjas!” in bold across the front.

He tried to talk the principal into letting him go home early or wearing his gym shirt the rest of the day. Both ideas were shot down. The gym shirt was school-issued and needed to be turned in that day. Leaving early was not an option, not without written permission or a phone call from a parent, or having his mother pick him up at school. All of which were never going to happen. The last thing Sam wanted to do was tell his mother about his KISS t-shirt lying in several pieces at the bottom of a toilet.

Unfortunately, gym would be the highlight of his day. School seemed to drag on. Thank God it’s the last day, Sam thought.

He made it through the rest of the morning unscathed. By lunch time he was starving. As he approached his locker with his stomach growling, Sam recalled the first thing Travis had said to him that morning: “Hey, your mom said pack a lunch”. He never had.

Sam slowly stopped walking, took in a deep breath and told himself, Just breathe, Sam, just breathe. He turned and grudgingly walked back in the direction of the lunch room.

He only had fifty cents to his name so he got a carton of milk for lunch. It would have to hold him over till he got home, if he made it that long without starving to death. He spent the entire lunch hour waiting for Travis, but Travis never showed up. He had gym right before lunch. Travis was always late, but never missed lunch. Sam knew that was not a good sign.

When the school bell finally rang at the end of last period Sam had to contain himself from bolting through the doors and screaming out FREEDOM AT LAST!

Kids ran from all corners of the building. They looked like ants leaving their hill. Sam, who was feeling extremely self-conscious in his new adopted wardrobe, waited pa-tiently for Travis in front of the school. Like always, Travis was late. Finally, after about twenty minutes or so, he sur-faced. At first, Sam did not recognize him. His head was hanging low, and he was wearing a different shirt too.

As Travis came closer what had happened became all too clear. Sam could feel his blood pressure starting to skyrocket as he stared at Travis, appalled. The sheer humility Travis wore on his face spoke volumes as he weaved through the crowd of kids who were laughing at him.

“You have got to be kidding me!” Sam said through grit-ted teeth.

The shirt Travis wore was bright pink with large, bold black letters that said, “I Don’t Skinny Dip, I Chunky Dip.”

“What happened to your shirt?” Sam asked quietly, try-ing desperately not to draw any more attention to them than necessary.

“Someone stole it in gym!” Travis replied, defeated and embarrassed. “Hey, what happened to yours?”

“Don’t ask!” Sam replied. “Let’s go and find a rock to crawl under.”

They both turned in time to see Daniel Harris, the school prankster, walk by with his group of knuckle-draggers.

“Aw, look at the twins! Did you fish that out of the toilet too?” he yelled pointing at Travis. They all laughed and pointed in Sam’s and Travis’s direction while climbing into Daniel’s SUV.

Suddenly it all made sense. Daniel was in Travis’s gym class and Billy, Bobby, Timmy, and Todd were in Sam’s. Sam’s and Travis’s numbers had finally come up. Daniel and his group of idiots had been the ones to take their shirts. They had pulled one last prank before school ended and Sam and Travis had been the victims.

“Can this day get any worse?” Sam moaned as he turned and walked toward home.

“Hey, I kind of like your shirt,” Travis said.

“Figures,” Sam replied.

The walk home was less than thrilling. Travis rambled on about Star Wars.

“You know I love the movie but come on! First you try to save the princess, then you kiss her, then you find out she’s your sister! I don’t know about you, but I’m thinking I would have shot myself in the face with a blaster!”

Sam paid no attention to Travis’s ramblings, except for the part about Travis sucking Jell-O off Paul Axtell’s plate. Apparently Travis took a late lunch after acquiring a new shirt. He went with the detention group. They always took the late lunch to keep them separated from the rest of the student body as part of their punishment.

“So, I ask him, ‘Can I have your Jell-O?’ He says, ‘No.’ So I put my finger in it. He said, ‘I don’t care what you do to it, Travis, I’m going to eat my Jell-O.’ So I look around to make sure there were no teachers standing by. Then I leaned over and sucked it right off his plate!” Travis laughed, “You should have seen his face!”

Sam laughed too. He found that entertaining in a strange kind of way, mostly because Paul deserved it. Paul was always putting his finger in people’s food at lunch.

It was starting to get cloudy. Things cooled off as a light breeze blew in from the north. The weatherman had talked about rain for days, and it looked like he was going to be right for a change. They needed the rain.

Sam had waited all day to ask Travis about the chocolate wrapper he had found last night. He was sure it wasn’t from around here. But, one more opinion wouldn’t hurt, he thought.

“Hey, Trav, you ever heard of Becker’s Famous Choco-lates?” he asked in his best nonchalant voice.

“Becker’s?”

“Yeah, take a look at this.” Sam dug into his pocket, pulled out the now crumpled piece of white and red paper and gave it Travis.

Travis took the wrapper and smoothed it out with his fingers, then brought it to his nose and inhaled, as if to smell the bouquet of a fine wine.

“Hmmm, it’s a dark chocolate … maybe extra-dark.” Travis took the wrapper away from his nose and repeated the process.

“It’s expensive cocoa butter too, not that stuff flavored with cheap sugar, vegetable fat, or powdered milk.”

Sam was amazed. Travis may be a social outcast in eighth grade, but he was definitely the man when it came to chocolate.

“Becker’s huh? No, never heard of it. Where’s it made?” he asked, as a look of curiosity set in.

He turned the wrapper over and read aloud the fine print on its back.

Becker’s Famous Chocolates

Hatter’s Cove Rd., Swan’s Cove

Ingredients: Family Secret

Sam hadn’t thought about the back of the wrapper. He had been too caught up with who it belonged to that he simply hadn’t thought of it.

“Um, I don’t think it’s from around here. I mean, you can’t get away with just saying “Family Secret” for the in-gredients. Maybe it’s from overseas or something,” Travis said as he twisted the paper back and forth, examining it more closely.

Sam was more puzzled than before. “Yeah, but where is Swan’s Cove and why isn’t there a state or country listed?”

“You got me. I don’t have a clue,” Travis said, handing the wrapper back to Sam.

Sam was bursting at the seams to tell him everything, but that wasn’t going to happen. How could he tell Travis something he wasn’t sure he understood himself? No, it was best to wait until he could think it over and figure it out on his own.

It wasn’t long before Travis had changed the subject and began to ramble on about something Sam had no interest in. Sam, however, was still too focused on the stranger and the chocolate from nowhere to think about anything else.

**I will post one EPISODE each week, but there are 50 EPISODE, so this may take a while. If you just can’t wait, you can buy (Just .99) the complete book and the rest of the HAVEN series (More Coming Soon) at Amazon.

You can sign up for my newsletter, follow me on Twitter, or like my Facebook page. For more information, see my website dc-akers.com . Your support is appreciated. Thanks for reading!

Terra Vonnel and the Skulls of Aries – Chapter 5

Retribution

Still on her knees, she looked up at the vampire. His right hand gripped his silver cutlass, and in the left hand was the Skull of Aries.

Long black hair fell like a curtain around his face, and his violet, cat-like eyes pierced through the shiny black veil.  Dragos wore a black vest with matching trousers, tall black boots, and a cloak. Dangling from his left ear was a long earring that resembled a shark tooth. He wore four rings on each hand, the facets of the various jewels reflecting the flame of the Vanquisher as he approached.

“Is this what you were looking for?” he asked smugly.

Terra could not respond at first. Her hands were trembling, and she could barely keep her grasp on the Vanquisher.

“Dragos… Funny finding you here,” she gasped. “Looks like you could really use some sun there, big boy.”

Dragos smiled, his long white canines visible now. “Surely you didn’t think you could win? That you could outsmart me, little girl?”

Terra lowered her head to the floor of the hull and screamed out in agony. The throbbing pain had reached the top of her spine and began numbing its way down. She knew it was only a matter of minutes before complete paralysis set in. She had to do something and do it quickly.

“You know this is no way to treat a lady,” she said, panting. “I might have to gut you for this!”

She was obviously in no position to do anything of the sort; it was more of a ploy to keep him distracted. Dragos was a vampire, but first and foremost he was a man, and all men love to boast, especially egotistical maniacs like Dragos.

“Yes, quite painful, isn’t it?” he asked mockingly.

“How… how are you doing this?” she cried out, her head rolling from side to side. She did not care how he was doing it; she just needed it to stop.

As Terra gasped in pain, she slowly reached for the Amulet of Demons. She grasped it in her fist and through gritted teeth spoke the incantation.

“You see, Vixen, you are just a frail child–a mortal child at that.”

Pain and anger intertwined, fusing into rage just as the bow hatch behind him burst open and the Sea Ghouls emerged. Dragos turned just in time as the first Ghoul approached. With pallid skin and bloodshot eyes, the mutilated corpse stabbed at Dragos, filled with an eerie vengeance.

Dragos parried the sword downward and countered with a vicious swing to the neck. The Sea Ghoul’s head flew into the air and onto the floor as three more engaged.

Now was the time to attack, Terra thought. With the pain still swirling around in her head, she leaped forward, thrusting the Vanquisher deep into Dragos’ back.

Dragos screamed in pain, arching backward with both arms held wide. The Vanquisher’s blazing blue tip protruded from the vampire’s chest. Dragos’ sword fell from his hand, but he continued to grasp the Skull of Aries.

Terra withdrew the Vanquisher from behind as the three swords of the Sea Ghouls simultaneously impaled Dragos’ chest. Again Dragos screamed out in pain as he fell to his knees.

“Stop!” Terra yelled.

The three Sea Ghouls froze, their swords embedded deep in the chest of Dragos. Their heads turned in unison, staring at Terra, their long, blood-stained teeth visible now. They were hungry. They needed to feed and they wanted Dragos badly.

“Withdraw,” she commanded.

The Ghouls withdrew their swords, sheathed them, and took one step back as if they were soldiers. Terra moved to the side of Dragos, who was panting and spitting up blood now. Once in front of him, she began to smile.

“I think you have something that belongs to me,” she said casually.

Dragos’ pale face was blue from the reflection of the Vanquisher. A small, fleshy hole lay smoldering in his chest where she had impaled him from behind.

“How… how are you able to control them…” he grunted. “What sorcery have you done?”

Still smiling, Terra stepped closer to Dragos. She wanted to look him in the eye. He seemed scared now and in pain. Just the way she liked her vampires.

“It’s not sorcery, Dragos. It’s the Vonnel charm.  Some men just can’t resist.”

She raised the Vanquisher so he could feel the heat of the flame on his face. “This is going to sting a little, handsome.”

With a quick downward stroke, Terra severed Dragos’ arm, which held the Skull of Aries. Dragos screamed, his body cringing as the arm fell to the floor with a thud.

“You see, you hurt me, Dragos,” she said, staring into his violet eyes. “I told you that was no way to treat a lady, and I meant it.”

Suddenly she could feel her head beginning to tingle with another twinge of pain. He was doing it again, trying to get into her mind. He was not as strong this time, she thought. He was too weak now; the pain was causing him to lose focus.

Terra moved the Vanquisher’s tip to his throat. The flame singed his skin. She leaned in closer and whispered, “You disappoint me, Dragos.”

She reached down, her eyes fixed on his, and removed the skull from the hand of the severed arm. Gradually, with the Vanquisher still at his throat, she moved backward between the Sea Ghouls.

She paused, giving Dragos one final look.

“There is something you should know about me, Dragos. I don’t like head games.  No girl does.” She grinned. “Kill him!”

In an instant, the Ghouls had Dragos surrounded. His screams rang out, loud and agonizing at first, but gradually they faded away into the carnivorous consumption of the bloodthirsty Sea Ghouls.

Terra turned and walked back through the dark hull, stepping over the dead bodies, her eyes fixated on the silver skull with horns and emerald eyes.

The battle was over, and she had won. Finally, she had retrieved the missing piece to unlock her destiny. She was one step away from having everything she ever wanted, and there would be nothing to stand in her way.

**I will post one Chapter each week, so this may take a while. If you just can’t wait, you can the complete book at Amazon for FREE.

You can sign up for my newsletter, follow me on Twitter, or like my Facebook page. For more information, see my website dc-akers.com . Your support is appreciated. Thanks for reading!

Retribution Still on her knees, she looked up at the...

 

Retribution

 

Still on her knees, she looked up at the vampire. His right hand gripped his silver cutlass, and in the left hand was the Skull of Aries.

Long black hair fell like a curtain around his face, and his violet, cat-like eyes pierced through the shiny black veil.  Dragos wore a black vest with matching trousers, tall black boots, and a cloak. Dangling from his left ear was a long earring that resembled a shark tooth. He wore four rings on each hand, the facets of the various jewels reflecting the flame of the Vanquisher as he approached.

“Is this what you were looking for?” he asked smugly.

Terra could not respond at first. Her hands were trembling, and she could barely keep her grasp on the Vanquisher.

“Dragos… Funny finding you here,” she gasped. “Looks like you could really use some sun there, big boy.”

Dragos smiled, his long white canines visible now. “Surely you didn’t think you could win? That you could outsmart me, little girl?”

Terra lowered her head to the floor of the hull and screamed out in agony. The throbbing pain had reached the top of her spine and began numbing its way down. She knew it was only a matter of minutes before complete paralysis set in. She had to do something and do it quickly.

“You know this is no way to treat a lady,” she said, panting. “I might have to gut you for this!”

She was obviously in no position to do anything of the sort; it was more of a ploy to keep him distracted. Dragos was a vampire, but first and foremost he was a man, and all men love to boast, especially egotistical maniacs like Dragos.

“Yes, quite painful, isn’t it?” he asked mockingly.

“How… how are you doing this?” she cried out, her head rolling from side to side. She did not care how he was doing it; she just needed it to stop.

As Terra gasped in pain, she slowly reached for the Amulet of Demons. She grasped it in her fist and through gritted teeth spoke the incantation.

“You see, Vixen, you are just a frail child–a mortal child at that.”

Pain and anger intertwined, fusing into rage just as the bow hatch behind him burst open and the Sea Ghouls emerged. Dragos turned just in time as the first Ghoul approached. With pallid skin and bloodshot eyes, the mutilated corpse stabbed at Dragos, filled with an eerie vengeance.

Dragos parried the sword downward and countered with a vicious swing to the neck. The Sea Ghoul’s head flew into the air and onto the floor as three more engaged.

Now was the time to attack, Terra thought. With the pain still swirling around in her head, she leaped forward, thrusting the Vanquisher deep into Dragos’ back.

Dragos screamed in pain, arching backward with both arms held wide. The Vanquisher’s blazing blue tip protruded from the vampire’s chest. Dragos’ sword fell from his hand, but he continued to grasp the Skull of Aries.

Terra withdrew the Vanquisher from behind as the three swords of the Sea Ghouls simultaneously impaled Dragos’ chest. Again Dragos screamed out in pain as he fell to his knees.

“Stop!” Terra yelled.

The three Sea Ghouls froze, their swords embedded deep in the chest of Dragos. Their heads turned in unison, staring at Terra, their long, blood-stained teeth visible now. They were hungry. They needed to feed and they wanted Dragos badly.

“Withdraw,” she commanded.

The Ghouls withdrew their swords, sheathed them, and took one step back as if they were soldiers. Terra moved to the side of Dragos, who was panting and spitting up blood now. Once in front of him, she began to smile.

“I think you have something that belongs to me,” she said casually.

Dragos’ pale face was blue from the reflection of the Vanquisher. A small, fleshy hole lay smoldering in his chest where she had impaled him from behind.

“How… how are you able to control them…” he grunted. “What sorcery have you done?”

Still smiling, Terra stepped closer to Dragos. She wanted to look him in the eye. He seemed scared now and in pain. Just the way she liked her vampires.

“It’s not sorcery, Dragos. It’s the Vonnel charm.  Some men just can’t resist.”

She raised the Vanquisher so he could feel the heat of the flame on his face. “This is going to sting a little, handsome.”

With a quick downward stroke, Terra severed Dragos’ arm, which held the Skull of Aries. Dragos screamed, his body cringing as the arm fell to the floor with a thud.

“You see, you hurt me, Dragos,” she said, staring into his violet eyes. “I told you that was no way to treat a lady, and I meant it.”

Suddenly she could feel her head beginning to tingle with another twinge of pain. He was doing it again, trying to get into her mind. He was not as strong this time, she thought. He was too weak now; the pain was causing him to lose focus.

Terra moved the Vanquisher’s tip to his throat. The flame singed his skin. She leaned in closer and whispered, “You disappoint me, Dragos.”

She reached down, her eyes fixed on his, and removed the skull from the hand of the severed arm. Gradually, with the Vanquisher still at his throat, she moved backward between the Sea Ghouls.

She paused, giving Dragos one final look.

“There is something you should know about me, Dragos. I don’t like head games.  No girl does.” She grinned. “Kill him!”

In an instant, the Ghouls had Dragos surrounded. His screams rang out, loud and agonizing at first, but gradually they faded away into the carnivorous consumption of the bloodthirsty Sea Ghouls.

Terra turned and walked back through the dark hull, stepping over the dead bodies, her eyes fixated on the silver skull with horns and emerald eyes.

The battle was over, and she had won. Finally, she had retrieved the missing piece to unlock her destiny. She was one step away from having everything she ever wanted, and there would be nothing to stand in her way.

**I will post one Chapter each week, so this may take a while. If you just can’t wait, you can the complete book at Amazon for FREE.

You can sign up for my newsletter, follow me on Twitter, or like my Facebook page. For more information, see my website dc-akers.com . Your support is appreciated. Thanks for reading!

Haven Shorts – Chapter 4 – Episode 9 – A Stranger Magic

Chapter 4 – Episode 9

The light changed. Sarah crossed her arms and turned toward Angelo’s Bakery. Maybe she should just get Sam something there. After all, lunch at the school cafeteria was always bad. There was no telling what leftovers they would be serving on the last day of school.

Sam was still her brother, even if he was a giant pain most of the time. He annoyed her, but not for the reasons most people thought he did. Sam had it easy; life just rolled off him. He blended in, he was under the radar, and no one ever noticed him. It was like he was invisible. And because of that, people were not always expecting things from him like they did from her. He could be himself and not what everyone expected him to be. Sam didn’t need to put walls up for protection like she did. He had everything—a great life, a best friend, and things were probably only going to get better from here.

Sarah, on the other hand, had none of that. Her friends could not be trusted; they were only her friends because she was popular, and she was only popular because of the way she looked. She could never call one of them up and confide in them, like Sam could Travis, without the whole school finding out. They were all superficial wannabes, pretending to care as long as she stayed popular. She hated who she had become, hated that she had to be so mean to everyone, including her own brother, but that’s what was expected—that was the price of popularity. She couldn’t even be normal in her own house anymore; she couldn’t remember how. She walked around so frustrated and angry all the time. The only restraint she could show was to her mother, because she was all they had left.

Every day she felt like she was getting closer and closer to the edge. She was scared of what might happen if she reached a breaking point. It was hard keeping it all bottled up inside. But what choice did she have? Who could she really tell? She knew the answer to that question—no one. She couldn’t tell her friends that there was more to life than being popular. That there was socializing for the simple purpose of getting to know someone and enjoying their company instead of how they could help you climb the social ladder. Going to the mall with your hair up, no makeup, and eating a big fat pizza without worrying about the carbs. She knew they would never go for that. They would just say that’s what ugly people do. Which was fitting, she thought, because she felt ugly inside, even though people thought she was so pretty. She wanted to tell them she was lonely for a real boyfriend; one that she could trust, not one that liked her for her looks and then cheated on her. She wanted someone to care about her and to like her for who she was as a person.

But again, what chance did she really have? She knew she would never let anyone inside the emotional walls she had built. The risk of being hurt was far too great. Her past choices in friends and boyfriends had taught her one thing—no one could be trusted. Perhaps she couldn’t be trusted to make the right choices either. After all, she was responsible for choosing her friends and Barry. Sarah walked toward the bakery and glanced over to see someone lurking in the alleyway. It was Marcus. He had a roguish smirk of his face.

“Well, well, it looks like the queen might have lost her king, and all because of her jester brother,” he said, laughing.

Sarah was not laughing. She loathed Marcus Snider. He was a bully and a pig. It made her angry just to look at him. For four years students had endured his rude and crude comments and for four years she had done nothing.

The jocks stayed away from him because he was rumored to have stabbed someone in a fight once. Whether it was true or not, Sarah didn’t know. But people had seen him fight on campus many times and he always won.

Sarah was not scared of him; she was more disgusted than anything. Someone needed to teach Marcus a lesson, and maybe the last day of his senior year was a good place to start.

“Keep your mouth shut, Marcus!” she said, her fist clenched at her side.

“Or what?” he shouted back. “Are you gonna call Daddy? Oh, no, wait,” he said putting his hand to his mouth like he was surprised. “You haven’t got a daddy, do you? Maybe your mommy is a little too prissy like her daughter, and no one wants a Dalcome woman!” he said, laughing.

Sarah began to walk toward Marcus, her ice blue eyes narrowing on the filthy, long-haired boy. To talk about her and her friends was one thing. To talk about her mother and father, that was something totally different.

“You had better shut your mouth, you creep!” she said, advancing on Marcus. She wasn’t sure what she was doing; she was no longer thinking straight.

Marcus laughed louder, and backed up into the alleyway.

“Come make me, pretty thing. We can talk about your daddy issues in here. I can be your daddy,” he said with a wink.

Sarah could feel the anger welling inside of her. It was the same anger her mother was always telling her to suppress.

Strange things happened when Sarah got angry. She didn’t know why or how, but sometimes things would break around her. It started about a month ago when she cut her finger on a kitchen knife while unloading the dishwasher. She winced in pain, mad at herself for not paying attention. Sarah became angry. It was at that point the glass of water sitting on the kitchen counter began to rattle. Then, suddenly the glass exploded, sending shards of glass in every direction. She had screamed and ran out of the kitchen. Another time, while she was in the garage looking for a school yearbook she had accidentally backed up into the yard tools hanging on the wall. They came crashing down. She shrieked and clenched her body tight as they fell to the ground around her. That’s when it happened—all eight sprinkler heads on the side of the house burst. Thin jets of water shot into the air nearly ten feet high. Prior to that the sprinkler system had not worked in years.

At first Sarah lied about what happened. She did not want to tell her mother—it just sounded too crazy. In the end, the truth came out, but to her surprise all that her mother said was “Suppression keeps you calm; calm places you in control.” But she said it as if she was thinking out loud, reciting it from memory or something. When Sarah asked if she believed her story, her mother replied, “The pipes are old; the whole house is falling apart, Dear.”

Sarah didn’t press the issue. Her mother had to be right. There was no way Sarah had anything to do with that.

Too much had happened this week with finals, finding out that Barry cheated on her, and worst of all, her so-called friends knowing what Barry had done and never saying a single word. Apparently, getting sick the day of a party was unacceptable girlfriend behavior punishable by cheating. If she had not overheard Blake Miller talking about it to one of the cheerleaders in the hallway, she would have never known. As it was, it took her a week to find out. Her girlfriends hadn’t said anything; they probably enjoyed humiliating her, and they couldn’t wait for the fall-out between her and Barry to happen.

So now, on top of all this, she had to deal with Marcus too. This creep, this low-life who was going to insult her family! Insult her dead father and the only parent she had left? No. Not today. Today she would not be calm. Today she wanted to be angry. Her anger was like a caged lion—beautiful, powerful, and dying to be set free.

Sarah walked between the two buildings with her hands clenched and knuckles white. She was determined to make Marcus suffer for every innocent kid he had ever picked on. For every girl he had ever humiliated. For every loathing comment that had slithered out of his mouth.

Marcus continued to laugh and motioned for her to come closer. Sarah kept walking until she was consumed in the shadows between the two buildings. She stopped to face Marcus.

“Take it back, Marcus!” she said. She was so angry that her hands were shaking. She let her backpack slide off her shoulder onto the ground.

Marcus was still grinning, as if he were a cat and she was a small, pathetic mouse.

Her anger was fueled by his vile remarks about the father she had never known, and her mother who tried so hard to take care of her and her brother. He had no right to cheapen that. She wanted to wipe that pathetic grin off his face.

Sarah reached down and picked up a rock the size of a baseball.

“You’re joking, right princess?” he said, looking at the rock.

“Shut up, Marcus, I told you to shut your mouth!”

“Or what? You’re going to throw a rock at me? Sweetheart, you’re gonna have to do a lot more than that to shut me up!”

Sarah reared back, and with all her might threw the rock as hard as she could. The rock soared through the air, but fell far from its intended target. It landed several feet to the left of Marcus.

He bellowed with laugher. It was a deep, gravelly, smoker’s laugh. To Sarah it was like nails on a chalkboard. It made her skin crawl.

Marcus bent over and picked up a rock of his own from near his feet. He had stopped laughing; his wicked grin faded into a taut thin line across his sallow face.

“Guess whose turn it is now, princess?” His stare narrowed and his eyes met Sarah’s. She could see the malice in his eyes. He hated her as much as she hated him.

Sarah stood her ground. She was breathing heavily and she could feel her pulse pounding in her head. She clenched her fists until her fingernails dug into her palms. She could feel her arms tremble.

Suddenly, there was loud rumble and several things happened at once. Deep cracks began to spread from the edges around a manhole that was between Sarah and Marcus. The cracks spread across the ground and up the sides of both buildings in the alleyway. Water burst from the manhole sending its enormous cover twenty feet into the air. The heavy steel lid came crashing down near Marcus. The cracks in the walls sprayed water through the crevices, and the sounds of pipes bursting and buckling behind the walls rang out.

Marcus fell to the ground, his eyes wide and face pale. “Earthquake!” he cried out. He got up and began to run.

Sarah could barely see him as he ran farther down the alleyway. She could feel the ground shake beneath her. She stumbled and fell to the ground, landing on her side. Water rained down on her and bricks fell from the sides of both buildings onto the street. She let out a loud scream.

Quickly, she got to her feet, turned, and began running as fast as she could toward school. She didn’t stop for her backpack or the traffic light at the end of the alleyway. Latecomers who were gathering across the street parted as a drenched girl ran past them, terrified. Sarah ran to the back of the campus toward the gymnasium. She didn’t stop running until she reached the back door. Quickly, she opened the door and closed it behind her. She looked down the hallway. No one was there. Everyone was in class. Sarah turned around, looking through the two small windows of the door. Fire trucks had pulled up next to the alleyway.

She leaned her dripping head against the door and tried to catch her breath. Her body was still trembling.

What in the world did I just do?

**I will post one EPISODE each week, but there are 50 EPISODE, so this may take a while. If you just can’t wait, you can buy (Just .99) the complete book and the rest of the HAVEN series (More Coming Soon) at Amazon.

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Terra Vonnel and the Skulls of Aries – Chapter 4

Count Dragos

 

The bowels of the Mont Delia were almost unbearable. On the hull floor the decaying flesh of past victims sent up an ungodly odor. Unmanned cannons lined the sides, with several crates and treasure chests scattered at each end of the ship. The moonlight seeped through the cannon portholes as Terra raised the Vanquisher once again.

Her shadow flickered around the room as she slowly made her way past the rotting corpses. Their cold gray eyes stared up into nothingness, their faces frozen with their dying expressions.

Then from the shadows, like a hiss from a slithering serpent, Count Dragos’ voice cut through the darkness.

“You should not have come, Vixen.”

His voice was more than a hiss, she thought, more than just the crude tongue of a vampire. It was smooth, elegant, almost intoxicating.

For a moment, Terra felt her mind begin to drift as she lost focus on what she was doing. She felt calm, the tense feeling leaving her body. What was happening? What was he doing? Quickly Terra snapped out of it as if splashed in the face with cold water. She immediately swung the Vanquisher in the direction of the voice.

“Well, give me the skull and I’ll be on my way,” she replied, her eyes still scouring the room.

For a moment, there was silence, nothing but the sound of the storm and the crashing waves above. The fighting had stopped, and she had assumed her Sea Ghouls by now were sitting down to a nice dinner of the undead.

Then he spoke again. “I’m sorry, Nina, but I cannot do that.”

Terra felt her heart skip a beat and the blood drain from her face. That name… How did he know? There was only one person in Terra’s life who had ever called her by her middle name, and that was her father.

“What… what did you say?” she stammered.

Then again from the shadows the smooth voice echoed the name, this time more slowly and more precise. “Nina.”

Her mind was racing now. How did he know her father? Did he find him? Had he tracked him down looking for the skulls?

Dragos spoke again as if reading her thoughts.

“Yesss,” he said. “Now you see what this has cost you, don’t you?”

No, please, please not that, she thought. He was all she had left. He had raised Terra almost singlehandedly since the age of five following her mother’s death.

It was in that moment Terra remembered something her father once told her. In one of his many tales of his adventures, he had mentioned a rare breed of vampires that possessed remarkable abilities. They were unlike most of the bloodthirsty hunters Terra had encountered over the years. These vampires her father spoke of had psychic abilities with which they could probe their victims’ minds. Although rare–and perhaps more folklore than anything–the idea was not entirely beyond the realm of possibility.

Psychic vampires dig deep into the mind, soul, and emotions of their victims, as well as their mental processes, he said. Processes that take place within the individual are not visible or measurable in the physical world.

Is this what Dragos was doing? Was he looking into her mind, digging deep to find out what haunts her, what she values, what she holds sacred? Was he trying to kill her from within?

Then her answer came in a surge of relentless pain, sending Terra to her knees as waves of uncontrollable pressure came crashing into her mind.

It was at that moment Dragos emerged from the shadows. His movements were slow, methodical, and agonizingly graceful. The vampire’s shadow stretched across the wooden hull, creeping toward Terra.

 

**I will post one Chapter each week, so this may take a while. If you just can’t wait, you can the complete book at Amazon for FREE.

You can sign up for my newsletter, follow me on Twitter, or like my Facebook page. For more information, see my website dc-akers.com . Your support is appreciated. Thanks for reading!