The Girl in the Darkness Read online

  Books by John Triptych

  Expatriate Underworld series

  The Opener

  The Loader

  Wrath of the Old Gods series (in chronological order)

  The Glooming

  Pagan Apocalypse

  Canticum Tenebris

  The Fomorians

  A World Darkly

  Eye of Balor

  Mortuorum Luctum

  Dying World series

  Lands of Dust

  City of Delusions

  The Maker of Entropy

  Ace of Space series

  The Piranha Solution

  Virago One

  The Girl in the Darkness

  By John Triptych

  Copyright© 2017 by John Triptych

  All rights reserved.

  J Triptych Publishing

  This is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places, and events either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, and/or locales is entirely coincidental.

  Cover by Bukovero.com

  Interior formatting by Polgarus Studios

  For Trevanian.

  Your books inspired me to write my own.

  Author’s note:

  Dear reader, I would like to thank you for purchasing this book. As a self-published author, I incur all the costs of producing this novel so your feedback means a lot to me. If you wouldn’t mind, could you please take a few minutes and post a review of this online and let others know what you think of it?

  As I’m sure you’re aware, the more reviews I get, the better my future sales would be and therefore my financial incentive to produce more books for your enjoyment increases. I am very happy to read any comments and questions and I am willing to respond to you personally as quickly as I can. My email is [email protected] if you wish to contact me directly. Again, thank you and I hope you enjoy reading this book as much as I enjoyed writing it!

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  Table of Contents

  Books by John Triptych

  Author’s note:

  Prologue

  One

  Two

  Three

  Four

  Five

  Six

  Seven

  Eight

  Nine

  Ten

  Eleven

  Twelve

  Thirteen

  Fourteen

  Fifteen

  Sixteen

  Seventeen

  Eighteen

  Nineteen

  Twenty

  Twenty One

  Twenty Two

  Twenty Three

  Twenty Four

  Epilogue

  Thanks for reading!

  Also by J Triptych Publishing

  People are like stained - glass windows. They sparkle and shine when the sun is out, but when the darkness sets in, their true beauty is revealed only if there is a light from within.

  -Elisabeth Kubler-Ross

  Prologue

  The darkness surrounding her felt like a living, breathing entity. An ocean of inky blackness that she couldn’t escape from, nor even touch. She could still remember the first time when it happened, when she woke up in it, and she screamed so loudly, for so long, until her eyes could no longer shed tears, and her throat became so inflamed, she thought she would spit out blood. She didn’t die then, even though she figured she was in hell. When a shaft of light came on down from above, and she believed that the light signified all things good in the world, but it turned out to be quite the opposite.

  After the bad thing was done to her, she could remember something stinging her arm, and then she felt like going to sleep. When she woke up, there was nothing but the darkness again. Naturally she started screaming for help once more, but all she could hear were the echoes of her own cries, begging for someone-anyone- to save her. No one came.

  Then she would imagine all the horrible things that lurked around in the dark. She remembered the movies, the TV shows her friends at school would talk about. And she imagined that each spectral thing was just lurking nearby, waiting for her. Everything from claws, fangs and horns on their heads to bat-like wings over their shoulders; she could envision just how horrible and malevolent these monsters were. She recalled that these demonic things were scared off by doing holy rituals, so she clasped her hands, got on her knees and recited the Lord’s Prayer.

  “Our Father, who is in heaven,” she would whisper, repeating the same lines over and over again, because she didn’t know the rest of it.

  Time passed, and the darkness she feared for so long soon became her friend. The first few times seemed so long ago, and she soon learned to love the never-ending night. As she got older, she realized that being blind wasn’t so bad after all. She knew that no one was with her in the unlit room as long as the darkness surrounded her. Her hearing became so acute that she could tell whether the scurrying noises at the far end of the place was either that of a mouse, or a bug.

  Of course, she could tell when he was there. She could hear his footsteps as he made it to the trapdoor above her. Then the sound of the door being unlocked, before the rattling of the chains that helped to bind the entryway were loosened. After that came the shaft of blinding light. She had to put her hands over her eyes to stop the searing pain as she was overwhelmed by the glaring yellow and white luminescence. That was when her imagination transformed into a stark reality.

  And the real terror would begin again.

  One

  Outside the house, the leaves were a mixed palette of green, orange and bits of red. Winter had come and gone, and the new springtime had brought color back into the surrounding trees once again. Brenda DeVoe always liked this time of the year. The snow had melted away, and the sweltering humidity of summer had yet to come. Her place was hidden from the street by a winding, descending asphalt driveway that was fronted by a copse of shortleaf pine and black oak trees, effectively shielding the front of the house from view. Her husband was the first to point out this area to her just a few years after they were married, and she instantly fell in love with it. Their life was blissful, until that one, fateful night when everything fell apart. That was eleven years ago, and she still couldn’t commit herself to move away. She had to stay for her. If Samantha ever came back, she wanted it to be just the way her daughter would have remembered it.

  Looking at the clock on the living room wall, Brenda could see that it was close to lunchtime. Sherptons Mill was a quiet little town in Stafford County, just a few miles west of the historic Potomac River, and this was a Sunday, which meant that the narrow, two-lane road beyond the trees would be almost completely devoid of any vehicles. Her closest neighbor was a quarter of a mile away, and all she could hear was the rustling of the tree branches and the occasional sharp whistling of the northern cardinals that nested at the tops of the trees around the property. Ever since she started living alone, Brenda would just sit beside the window, knitting while listening to the chirps and whistles of the song birds. She could have gone closer to hear their calls by moving to the porch, but she preferred to be out of sight, so as not to disturb them. Lurking in the shadows of the house had become a habit for her, ever since those terrible few weeks when Samantha disappeared from her life.

  A slight ringing noise threw her mind back into reality. Brenda got up from the wooden stool by the window, and walked over to the kitchen. The little timer that she had purchased looked like a small windup cartoon
pig, and its alarm indicated that the cookies were done. Turning off the oven, she put on some mittens before taking out the tray of chocolate chip and oatmeal cookies and placed them on the marble countertop. Both the kitchen and the living room were soon immersed with that freshly baked smell of sweet confectioneries.

  While letting the cookies cool, Brenda took a look at the crock pot sitting nearby. Taking the glass lid off, she smelled the aroma of the slow-cooked beef stew she had started soon after breakfast. Taking a wooden spatula from a nearby cupboard, she tasted a bit of the stew and found that it needed a bit more seasoning, so she added a few more pinches of salt into it. After a few more minutes, she knew that the stew was done so she took out a bowl and placed a small portion of the savory dish into it. Before sitting down on the kitchen table, Brenda took out a dinner roll from the bread box and poured herself a half glass of red wine. She drank at least three glasses a day, but she would be driving the car after lunch, so it would be better if she took it easy for now.

  Once she had finished putting the used bowl into the dishwasher, Brenda placed the cookies into a plastic container, sealed it and brought it out to the parked car by the driveway. The long days had given her nothing to do these past few years, so she had decided to volunteer at the local animal shelter. The staff would be minimal today, but they always appreciated the cookies and other baked goods she brought over. Once the sweets were safely tucked away at the front seat, Brenda shifted the Toyota’s automatic transmission into reverse before maneuvering the sedan out into the road.

  The drive to the shelter took less than fifteen minutes. Since the place was closed on Sundays, Brenda noticed only a single car parked out in front of the building. After turning off the ignition, Brenda took out the plastic container and locked the sedan using her key pager before proceeding over to the front door. Even though the CLOSED sign was prominently displayed in front of the glass entryway, it was unlocked, so Brenda pushed it inwards before walking inside.

  Sitting behind the reception desk was Cherry Wilson. She had been with the shelter for decades now, and she instantly noticed Brenda walking in through the entrance. She stood up and smiled, her pale wrinkled cheeks partially covered by a mop of silvery hair and thick glasses. She wore a wool sweater and jogging pants, which somewhat concealed her rotund waistline. “Brenda, how are you? You didn’t have to come in today, you know.”

  Brenda smiled back as she placed the plastic container full of cookies on top of the counter and removed its lid. “I baked enough for a battalion, but I figured I might as well share it.”

  Cherry nodded approvingly at the still warm aroma. “Your oatmeal cookies are always a hit here. Do I detect a bit of coconut in this batch?”

  “Yes, I was in Alexandria yesterday and stopped by a Trader Joe’s,” Brenda said. “They had a special on shredded coconut so I bought a packet. Have a bite.”

  Cherry took a cookie and popped it into her mouth. “Oh, how wonderful! The coconut is perfect with the oatmeal. I can’t have more than two, you know. George says I really need to lose weight.”

  “Oh don’t be silly, you’ve got to have more. I still have another batch in the house that I have to finish by myself. Give some to your husband.”

  “I could take some home for George,” Cherry said. “But he needs to lose weight too.”

  Brenda had brought along resealable plastic bags, and she placed them on the counter as well. “Take as much as you need. Is there anyone else in here today?”

  “Fernando is at the back,” Cherry said. “I had him take a look at a cat that someone found at Crow’s Nest yesterday. Poor thing’s got a broken foreleg and we may have to put it down.”

  Brenda placed a dozen cookies into another bag. “I’ll give this to Fernando. Do you need me to do any work?”

  Cherry shook her head. “No need, hon. We could clean out the cages tomorrow. George wants to go out and see a movie later, so I’ll need to get going soon.”

  “Okay,” Brenda said as she took the plastic bag with her and proceeded into the back area.

  There was a second glass door beside the bulletin board with a CAUTION sign on it. Brenda pushed it inwards and strolled past a number of cages built along the narrow corridor. A large number of dogs in the cells instantly noticed her and let out soft barks and whimpers, hoping to get her attention. Brenda paused beside a number of cages, sometimes opening them and petting the dogs that she liked the most. Cherry had suggested she adopt one of the animals, yet Brenda refused, saying that she couldn’t accept the responsibility for the moment. Deep in her heart she really did care for the poor things, but dreaded the sense of loss when having to deal with their eventual passing. After losing Samantha, she just couldn’t bring herself to adopt a pet, at least for now.

  She found Fernando at the examining room. He wore a short sleeved t-shirt underneath the medical apron, even though the weather was still somewhat chilly, and his arm tattoos were prominently displayed. Fernando Lopez had gotten into trouble with drugs and gangs during his youth, but had been able to change his ways, and eventually became a veterinarian’s assistant. In his off days, he would occasionally drop by and volunteer at the shelter. Brenda had always wondered if the shelter was as much for the animals as it was for people like her and Fernando; a place where broken souls could find a new meaning to their lives.

  There was a scrawny cat on the metal table and it looked sedated. Fernando was wearing gloves, and he was checking for any injuries. He looked up at Brenda when she walked inside. “Ola, Brenda. How are you today?”

  Brenda smiled as she placed the bag of cookies on the side counter by the wall. “I’m good, Fernando. Cherry told me you’ve got a wounded cat.”

  He nodded before pointing to the bag of cookies. “That for me?”

  “Sure is,” Brenda said. “Best I leave it here so it won’t interfere with your work. You need any help?”

  Fernando chuckled. “Muchas gracias. Nah, I just wanted to see if I could put a splint on this cat’s leg. I guess Cherry can decide if it needs to be put down tomorrow, but if not, then at least it gets a chance to heal.”

  Brenda walked over and stood beside him. “That’s so nice of you.”

  Fernando bent over the metal counter as he continued to examine the cat’s body. There were fleshy patches on its uneven blue-gray fur, a sign of its recent struggles in the wild. “Two hikers found it at the nature preserve yesterday and brought it over.”

  “I thought only feral cats would be out by Crow’s Nest,” Brenda said.

  “Nah, it’s a community cat,” Fernando said. “I’m pretty sure someone owns it. I’ll just fix its leg and put its picture up on our website. Maybe someone will call us in the next few days.”

  “How do you know?”

  “The hikers said it was pretty tame. A feral cat would, like bite and claw anyone who tries to handle it” he said, before pointing towards something at the other side of the room. “And there was, like a string tied around its neck you know. So I think someone had to own it.”

  Brenda walked over to the opposite side of the room where a metal tray lay on a counter. Looking down on it, she saw a strand of neon green string, undoubtedly a makeshift collar for the cat. Some small metal object had been clasped to the middle part of it which seemed strangely familiar. Brenda picked up the string and held it up in front of her. Dangling on the small cord was a stud earring. The jewelry was shaped like the head of a black cat. Its eyes were two tiny blue rhinestones that glittered like diamonds. Brenda placed the piece of string back down on the tray. That single earring reminded her of something, but she just couldn’t place it.

  Fernando started to wrap a bandage on the stunned cat’s foreleg. “Looks like some sort of housecat that was let go, I think. This here gato was sure lucky it was found. I don’t think it would’ve lasted very long in the nature preserve since it don’t know how to hunt and all.”

  Brenda couldn’t hear him. Her world suddenly narrowed to the tray
lying in front of her when she remembered about the cat earring. It was twelve years before when Samantha placed her laptop on the kitchen counter and showed her mom what she wanted.

  “See that, Mom? I want this,” Samantha had said, pointing to a set of cat earrings from the online store. “I want to wear a cat on my ear. Please Mom, can you buy it for me, please?”

  Brenda took a few steps backwards, her eyes wide open in shock. Her elbow jerked to the rear of the counter, hit a glass container that had cotton balls in it, and sent it crashing down to the tiled floor. The canister shattered into a million pieces with a loud crash.

  Fernando nearly jumped as he turned around. “Brenda, you okay?”

  For a few seconds, Brenda said nothing as she stared out into space. Then she started to scream.

  Two

  The incessant vibrations on the night table finally woke Addison up. She blinked her eyes open and gently pulled back the blanket, revealing a pale, slender arm draped over her neck. With a gentle touch, Addison picked up the other limb, slid away from it, and placed it back on the bed. Sitting up, she twisted her torso and looked at the clock near the far end of the wall, just below the flat screen TV. It was nearly lunch time, but the curtains had been drawn so fully, the room was still cast in twilight.

  She picked up the vibrating smartphone and activated it. “Yeah?”

  After listening for a few minutes, Addison frowned. It was going to be one of those days. “I know where it is,” she said. “I’ll be there in twenty minutes. Okay, bye.”