Night Stalker (Dead Loves Life Book 1)
Page 1
NIGHT STALKER
© Copyright R. L. Weeks 2017
All rights reserved.
The moral right of the author has been asserted.
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events and organizations are purely coincidental.
ISBN 978-1974244393
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, nor translated into a machine language, without the written permission of the publisher.
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This book is sold subject to the condition that it shall not, by way of trade or otherwise, be lent, re-sold, hired out or otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is published and without a similar condition including this condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
Cover design © Creative Covers
Editing by Emily Cargile
www.authorrlweeks.com
For Amy.
A blessed friend to walk through life with.
NIGHT
STALKER
Dead Loves Life
Book One
Prologue
Aokigahara was dead silent as we walked up the path between the trees. A chill washed over me as I noticed a sign reading: ‘Your family loves you.’ The forest was a common suicide spot in Japan, and therefore, according to my boyfriend, George, a hub for the supernatural due to the energy left over after the deaths.
I, of course, was skeptical about the whole thing. George turned to me after letting go of my hand. “Have you ever found anything curious about your past, though? I mean, about your ancestors?”
Here he went again. He was always delving into my family history, when there wasn’t much interesting about it.
My ancestors had been founders of our hometown, Pleasant Springs, a small town in Connecticut. They’d had a violent history, yet were always the heroes. I wasn’t a hero, but I was living in the 21st century – somewhere George wasn’t.
“There’s not much to look into,” I replied.
It was raining. I could see the grey clouds over the horizon, but the drizzle didn’t touch us through the canopy of leaves.
“Your ancestors are more interesting than you think.” I rolled my eyes and he sighed. “Really, Casey, they are. I wonder if you’re like them.”
I raised an eyebrow. “How do you mean?”
He shook his head. “Nothing.”
We turned around to head back before dark. I was worried about George. He hadn’t been himself recently.
We had run into something a couple of weeks ago in this forest. He had sworn he had seen a creature. I wasn’t sure what I had seen, but it could have just been a person or animal moving fast in the tree line. Either way, he had taken to going on little trips alone at night, much to my dismay, up into the forest.
The lovely ladies down in the cabins let us stay cheap. I wasn’t surprised; I mean, Aokigahara wasn’t exactly a tourist spot.
Yet, the forest had changed George. He seemed worried, stressed, as if he were being pulled him in two directions.
“Sweetie,” I said and grabbed his hand again. “Do you still love me?”
Usually, he’d snap right back with ‘of course,’ but he hesitated. It was only for a second, but I saw it, and then I was worried.
“I love you,” he said, without meaning.
My heart hammered away as we walked back, but I discounted his behavior. He was so busy researching the paranormal history of the area, his focus just wasn’t on me right now. It would be once we were home again.
We walked down the trail, and I shuddered, pulling my coat tighter. It was freezing.
Snap
A twig broke in the tree line to our left. We both stopped, observed, but shrugged it off. It was so quiet in the forest – no noise, birds, nothing – that every sound was echoed.
As we walked closer to the cabin more twigs snapped, and the sound of leaves crunching followed us back.