The Shadow Box: Paranormal Suspense and Dark Fantasy Thriller Novels

by Travis Luedke

  ‘You took off his blindfold?’ Nick’s head swung back to Tommy. ‘Are you insane?’

  Tommy stuttered, deep mumbling sounds. ‘Well, uhhh, you can’t just tell us it’s his fault Mum’s dead and then walk off like that.’ It seemed like he was trying to sound sure of himself but wasn’t quite there yet.

  ‘I said I was going to tell you everything. You could have just waited.’

  Then Tommy found his attitude. ‘Yeah right, like I can trust you, Nick. Yuh ditch everyone when the goin’ gets tough. Like yuh left me and Tom with Dad. You’re selfish. Always have been.’

  Juliet felt her brow burrow. Were these two really arguing like children while a man who’d tried to kill them, a man who’d murdered their mother, was on the loose?

  ‘But why did you take the blindfold off?’

  ‘He said he’d tell us everythin’.’

  ‘And did he?’

  ‘More than you told us,’ Tommy answered stubbornly, as if the results justified his actions.

  Nick huffed and threw up his arms. ‘How do you know that, Tommy? Maybe he got inside of your head like he did to Juliet.’

  ‘Hey!’ Juliet stressed in a loud whisper. They all stared at her. ‘We need to find him … or get out of here.’ Then she remembered something.

  The shotgun. She almost said, ‘The shotgun is still in the manor; he might have gone back for it,’ but stopped herself in case Aldrich was listening nearby. That thought gave her the sensation of bugs crawling all over her body. What if he has gone to get it? He’ll come back. He’ll hunt us down …

  ‘Okay,’ Nick agreed. ‘We should find him and try to come to an agreement where we can all leave unharmed.’

  ‘Pfft!’ Tommy huffed.

  Nick glared at him.

  There was a crunching sound. Like a twig snapping.

  They all looked in the direction of the noise, their stances changing to alert. One side of Juliet’s body ached, burning hot from where the explosion had thrown her to the ground. She tilted her head and tried to see through the trees.

  Aldrich stepped out from behind a trunk.

  Darkness.

  ‘Juliet! Juliet!’ Tom rasped from underneath her, an awful fear in his eyes.

  She rolled off of him. Her arms were tense. Her body itched with adrenaline. ‘What happened?’ Flicking her eyes about, she searched for Nicolas and Tommy but saw neither.

  ‘You attacked me.’

  ‘What?’ She stood up and put her hands out in front of herself, staring at them as if they weren’t her own. She and Tom were still in the copse where they’d put Aldrich against the dark and crooked tree.

  ‘Don’t worry; I know it wasn’t you.’

  I could have hurt him, maybe even killed him … That would be just the thing to complicate everything. Maybe accompanying Nicolas to Grendel Manor had been naive of Juliet—what had she expected from investigating the mysterious death and disappearance of a woman?—but this was all much worse than anything she could have imagined. The last thing she needed now was someone dying.

  ‘Where are Nicolas and Tommy?’ she asked. ‘I need to get away from you all before Aldrich takes control of me again.’

  Tom rubbed leaves and dirt off himself as he rose. ‘They both ran after him. That way, I think.’ He pointed.

  She looked in that direction, then turned to face the opposite. ‘I’ll go this way then.’

  ‘Wait!’ Tom sounded concerned. ‘It’ll be fine. You’ve got control again now.’

  ‘But if he comes back, I won’t have.’ She grabbed Tom’s arms to make him listen, but it had the unintended effect of making him flinch. ‘I don’t want to black out and then wake up to find one of you dead.’ Without waiting for a response, she ran.

  The pain from the explosion soon slowed her, but she kept moving. She ran and ran, even as her wedge boots strained her ankles and their fabric cut into her flesh.

  Steadily, the woods were turning sepia.

  When she stopped, she scanned the area. Just trees, leaves, and mud. Everywhere she looked she was completely alone, or at least she hoped so. Wanting to be less visible, she ducked and hid behind a bush. The damp smell of foliage was stronger this low down.

  She took slow breaths.

  Waited.

  And waited.

  Her mind drifted to the portal. My soul … I can’t get it back. I’m going to see spirits until the day I die. The self-pity drew attention to itself. Juliet shook her head. Stupid, don’t be stupid. I said I’d make the best out of seeing spirits I can. If I survive this …

  Then she was back to the present moment. What have I done? It was like a slap in the face, realising how rashly she’d acted. Now Tom was alone in the woods too. I ran to stop myself from harming the others, she told herself, but as she crouched, hidden like a coward, she began to worry if she’d somehow put them in more danger.

  What if this was his plan? To scatter us. To pick us off, one by one.

  Rustling and scrapes came from nearby.

  Her senses piqued. ‘Who’s there?’

  Odd, the way the mind could process so many simultaneous thoughts when under panic. Who’s there? Am I lost? What if he has a weapon? What if everyone else is dead? How will I know if it’s safe to look for them? What if I die in these woods? What if he finds me out here?

  All alone.

  But the shiver in the air told her it wasn’t Aldrich close by. It was a spirit.

  She got up and walked towards the disturbance. With a quick look around she realised she had no idea which direction would lead her where. I’m lost.

  The wind howled ahead, where the flickering figure was, where Juliet was approaching.

  Roaring and rumbling and crashing. The sounds of the sea grew louder.

  When Juliet made it to the cliff edge, Samantha Crystan was waiting for her. This time the spirit had red punctures all over. Her clothes torn and drenched in blood, she held a hand out towards Juliet and curled her index finger inwards: Follow me.

  Trying not to see the gaping wounds, Juliet approached the spirit.

  They stood together at the edge, Samantha gazing out at the Celtic Sea.

  What is she doing? I can’t just stand here while everyone else is in danger.

  Juliet didn’t know what it all meant, but Samantha must have had knowledge of what was happening. Earlier she’d appeared to save her sons; surely now she wouldn’t waste time if they were in imminent danger. Putting her eyes to the view, Juliet felt the breeze on her face.

  A respite.

  After a moment of unknowable length, Samantha turned away and glided into the woods. She twisted back and beckoned to Juliet again.

  She’ll help me. She’ll show me the way back.

  As her feet ruffled across the autumn-covered ground, Juliet worried about Nick. The idea of him in danger struck something in her stomach.

  She had to save him.

  Chapter Nineteen

  ‘ALDRICH?’ HE YELLED. Nick had been running a while, struggling through the branches, the leaves, the mud, and the rot.

  He and Tommy chased Aldrich together at first, but then Tommy stopped in his tracks, groaned and moaned and started moving in a different direction. ‘He’s tryin’ to get in my head,’ he forced out through clenched teeth.

  Then, unexpectedly, he took off and charged deeper into the woods. Nick glimpsed something in his brother’s hand but couldn’t tell what. Before Tommy was out of sight, Nick heard him shout, ‘I’ll fuckin’ kill him when I find him!’

  After that, a laugh spooked Nick, a strange ululating noise. He followed it, sprinting until he ended up in a part of the woods that looked the same as the rest.

  ‘Aldrich?’ he shouted again.

  ‘What have you done? Yes. You! What have you done?!’ It was Aldrich’s voice.

  Where is it coming from? Nick turned in circles, trying to force his ears to home in. ‘What do you mean?’

  ‘You’ve rotted—yes, rotted!—Moloch’s
sacred forest.’

  Peering from tree to tree, Nick threw up his arms. ‘Moloch. Isn’t. Real!’

  It was like an argument in his head; he couldn’t locate Aldrich with his eyes, and the voice seemed to float from here to there. ‘You know nothing about my master!’

  It’s getting darker. Nick took in his surroundings, frightened that when all turned pitch black, he’d have to rely on his memory to navigate the woods.

  ‘Aldrich,’ he said, sounding fed up, ‘I don’t care about Moloch. I just want us to come to an agreement. I don’t want anybody to get hurt.’

  ‘Hmmm, an agreement,’ Aldrich said theatrically, mocking him. ‘Then I want one of your friends as a sacrifice. The blonde, one of the twins, whomever!’

  ‘Sacrifice?’ The word tasted like bile in his mouth. ‘I thought you only sacrificed children to your god.’

  ‘It’s for me! For what you have done to me. I want to kill someone.’ He laughed manically, and it helped Nick to move closer to the source. ‘Or maybe I fancy a slave. Ha! A slave. Yes.’

  Imagining the twisted ways Aldrich would use a slave made Nick cringe. ‘You’re not taking any of them!’

  ‘Then I’ll take you.’ Aldrich lunged out from behind a tree. His hands scraped over Nick’s top as Nick dodged and tripped on a branch. Whether Aldrich had freed himself or one of the twins had, his wrists were no longer tied.

  ‘Woah!’ Nick exclaimed. ‘Let’s just talk about this.’

  ‘No.’ Aldrich turned, but his movements were slow. He looked both ridiculous and disturbing in his stained tweed jacket, clumsily throwing his fists in rage.

  Blocking the blows with his forearms, Nick pleaded, ‘We can figure something out.’ The words came intermittently.

  ‘Your death!’ Aldrich lifted a fist high and thumped down. It thudded Nick’s shoulder. Losing his temper, Nick kicked the child-murderer in the stomach, throwing him backwards. I didn’t think I could kick like that, he marvelled, knowing how inflexible he was. He felt his bruises flare.

  After a laboured wheeze, Aldrich held out a hand and cried, ‘Yes. Okay. Fine! I’ll talk … We’ll talk.’ He put both arms up in surrender.

  Breath swam out of Nick’s mouth. ‘Good.’ He relaxed his stance. He figured Aldrich wasn’t used to physically attacking people; fighting wouldn’t be necessary for him, not when he could force his opponents to kill themselves.

  For the first time since he’d chased Aldrich into the woods, Nick got a good look at the murderer’s face. One half of it, and most of the forehead, had ballooned to an unnatural size, forcing the corresponding eye closed. His skin was purple and red and green and yellow, and covered in blood and spit and mud and sweat.

  Aldrich stepped closer in a non-aggressive manner.

  ‘So will you let us leave unharmed?’ As the question left his lips, Nick seriously considered if there was any possible way for them to come to an agreement. How can I not report this man? What if I don’t and then more children go missing?

  ‘Of course.’ Aldrich smiled. By the time Nick saw the evil glint in the man’s one open eye, it was too late.

  Forced to the ground, he fumbled to protect his throat. Aldrich pinned him by the neck, squeezing, laughing erratically. ‘I’ve seen more than you could imagine. Yes. And I have killed hundreds, thousands of people! Ha! And so what I can’t control you? You are just one measly person in my long, long life. Just one, like your mother; and like your mother, you’ll die too.’

  Nick brought up his elbows and wedged his fingers between the tightening hands and his neck, like he had when Juliet strangled him. He tried desperately to think of a way to weaken Aldrich.

  A pathetic, snivelling man was what he had seen in Aldrich earlier, when the murderer had been tied up and defenceless.

  He needed to force that man back out.

  His body was pressed down under his attacker’s and unable to move. As he struggled, he felt something firm pressing against him, something warm and growing. Aldrich would enjoy killing him more than he’d realised.

  Nick felt sickened.

  With his fingers, he levered enough room to speak. ‘We found the portal …’ his voice pushed through, followed by harsh coughs.

  ‘Moloch’s Sacrifice Well … His Sacrifice Pit!’ Aldrich corrected, with a level of reverence. But already Nick sensed his assailant’s doubt.

  This will weaken him. ‘It wasn’t Moloch’s.’ He laughed derisively. ‘It spoke to us, told us it was a gate to the Otherworld.’

  ‘The Otherworld?’ Aldrich mouthed, blood smeared over his lips. The uninjured side of his face fell slack in puzzlement.

  ‘You didn’t even know, did you?’

  Aldrich pushed closer, the smell of sweat and blood turning Nick’s stomach. ‘You’re lying.’

  ‘I’m not. You were deceived. It told us that Moloch doesn’t exist, that you’re an idiot, that you’ve been sacrificing to a false god.’ He laughed some more. ‘Oh, and the children are alive—alive in the Otherworld!’

  ‘Shut up.’ Aldrich’s grip loosened a little.

  ‘You’ve been killing people for nothing.’

  ‘N-no …’

  As Nick lay trapped, he remembered Alan’s thieving friends and how much of a coward he’d been when the man in the bomber jacket tried to punch him at work. His blood coursed. Then he thought of how they’d battered him in front of Juliet, how there was nothing he could do.

  Okay, this is it. ‘Your long, long life has all been a lie, and now the portal is destroyed.’

  The functioning side of Aldrich’s face screwed up.

  Nick continued to goad him. ‘Your god-that-was-never-really-Moloch has left you all alone.’

  A glisten appeared in Aldrich’s open eye, which quickly reddened and filled with tears. He began to sob, his body trembling on top of Nick’s. His grip weakened some more.

  Nick hated to see anyone cry. Even now he experienced guilt. But if he wanted to get out of this alive, he had to do something. He took a hand away from his neck, reached for a fallen branch, then smacked Aldrich in the side of the head.

  The branch rebounded, thumping his own skull. His eyes closed in pain for a moment as he felt Aldrich fall off of him. Eyelids still down, he heard Aldrich sobbing, twigs crunching, leaves rustling. The sounds grew fainter and distant.

  The pain was too much, the exhaustion equal. He lay there unmoving, barely thinking, until more noises startled him.

  Juliet’s voice. ‘Nicolas? Are you all right?’

  He rose slowly, grateful to see her face. ‘You’re okay,’ he said. When she came near, he put his hands on her cheeks—whether out of affection or more for the sake of balancing himself, he wasn’t entirely sure.

  After the moment had passed, Juliet asked, ‘Where’s Aldrich?’

  ‘He ran off again. I didn’t see where.’ He noticed his relief over Juliet being unharmed and quickly added, ‘Where’s Tom?’

  ‘I left him back where … where I attacked him.’ Her eyes pressed shut. ‘We need to do something.’

  ‘You think?’ The side of Nick’s skull zinged.

  Juliet’s eyes opened. She did not look impressed. For a second, she seemed about to rebuke him, but then glanced away and towards something else. Nick turned and saw nothing there.

  ‘Your mother’s here,’ said Juliet.

  Nick stared at the empty space in awe, amazed that his mum was there with him. If she’s here, she must be trying to help. She must know a way for us to resolve this.

  ‘She wants us to follow her.’

  Tom, Tommy, he thought, realising Aldrich could be looking for them. ‘Okay, let’s go.’ He touched one of Juliet’s arms. Concern ran through him. ‘If we see Aldrich, you hide. You run in the opposite direction as fast as you can.’

  She smiled wearily. ‘I’m good at that; it’s how I ended up here.’

  They took off, Juliet in the lead, and made their way through the darkening woods. When they reached the leafless a
nd crooked tree, they stopped.

  Tom stood alone, biting his nails, his eyes shut. He didn’t acknowledge their arrival. Uncomfortable from all the running, Juliet adjusted her clothes, and afterwards she looked up and covered her mouth, maybe to stifle a scream.

  Tommy stood over Aldrich, staring down at him.

  The child-murderer was motionless, the handle of a knife protruding from his chest. Nick instantly recognised the ancient-looking weapon—and the fanciful carvings on its haft—from his nightmare.

  ‘Oh, God, Tommy …’ He searched for words, his heart throbbing. ‘You’ve killed him.’

  Chapter Twenty

  RUNNING ASIDE, JULIET forced down the sick determined to come out. Don’t throw up. I can’t throw up. It’s evidence.

  The entire situation had changed. Aldrich was dead. Juliet was an accomplice to murder. All the previous errors along the way were stark clear now. Why did she even get involved in all of this?

  She bent over, prepared to vomit in case she couldn’t hold it in, and stared at the leaves and dirt. The ground was a blanket of shadow growing denser. It must have been past four o’clock; soon it would be too dark to be outside without a torch.

  Focusing the sick away, she listened to the others.

  ‘Tommy, why did you do this?’ demanded Nick. Frustration was prevalent in his voice.

  No response. Was Tommy preparing an excuse? Was he confused, the emotions of discovering Aldrich was to blame for his mother’s death clouding his judgement?

  ‘I … I …’

  ‘Tommy! Answer me.’

  There was a long silence.

  ‘You know why,’ he finally barked. ‘It’s your fault; yuh didn’t tell us enough!’

  ‘What do you mean?’ Nick went quiet for a moment.

  Juliet’s stomach settled. She stood straight again, but the acid at the back of her throat was uncomfortable. Another unpleasant sensation began in her body, in her bones, an insatiable itch that was spreading throughout. It shook her frame as she tried to address the group without having to see Aldrich’s corpse in her periphery.

  ‘Tommy, did you kill him on purpose?’ Nick’s voice became more strained as he continued. ‘If his blindfold was off, then maybe he made you do it. Maybe he wanted you to kill him!’