Fear Of Broken Glass: The Elements: Prologue
Page 1
Contents
Fear Of Broken Glass
Copyright
Dedication
The Elements Prologue
Prologue
Part 1: DISCOVERY
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Part 2: FLIGHT
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Epilogue
The Elements
Labyrinth 1: Prologue
Labyrinth 1: Chapter 1
Thanks for reading!
Acknowledgements
The End
Fear Of Broken Glass
by Mark David
Something strange has been going on for a very, very long time...
Ten years in the making, the prologue to the epic Elements series involves a notorious wilderness with a macabre past; a reconstructed Viking church by the shore of a Swedish lake. And a painting, a lost masterpiece framed in runic inscriptions without an owner – all connected with crimes that were never meant to be solved.
When Hasse Almquist, a detective with a tarnished reputation is brought in to investigate a murder at an ancient site of pagan worship, Troll Church Hill, little can he know nothing is at it seems. The site of a macabre crime where Danish art gallery owner Thomas Denisen has been discovered dead, his eyes removed and nails hammered through his feet, the hallowed pagan ground in the middle of the Swedish Tiveden National Park draws troublesome connections to a remote and disturbing past.
The detective begins his investigation by linking the apparently ritual killing to four unsolved serial murders from the 1970’s. His enquiries take him to the remote Gotfrid’s Homestead, temporary home to the remaining members of the group visiting from Copenhagen the deceased victim had been a part of. Each of them guard a hidden secret involving the painting found in the back of the victim’s car – and the reasons for their involvement. This complicates his investigation and weakens his chances of solving the crime and how it is related to the unsolved murders of the past.
Attempting to piece together a complex and fragmented picture linking motives to murders involving pagan practices, Almquist takes the decision to isolate the suspects from the outside world. Thus is the stage set for a journey into the past, catalyzing a sequence of events with consequences for revealing the identity of the killer and the crimes of the past. The detective will accept too late, that he has himself been a contributing factor to the murder, opening Pandora’s Box and all that lies within. With deadly forces already in motion, the investigators and suspects alike will both become a part of each others fate, unwilling participants in a greater and much darker universe than the one they thought they inhabited.
Copyright
All Rights Reserved
Copyright © 2017 Mark David
Version 1 published by Mark David January 2017
The right of Mark David to be identified as the Author of the Work has been asserted by him with the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988.
Fear Of Broken Glass is a work of the imagination. Names, characters, places, and happenings are the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.
No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means without the prior permission of the publisher, nor be otherwise circulated in any form without a similar condition being imposed on the subsequent purchaser.
Dedication
For L
For all the understanding,
For the support
For the sparring along the road.
I couldn’t have made it without you...
The Elements Prologue
Fear of Broken Glass
Everyone has a secret
Introduction to The Elements Project
7 elements. 7 deceptions. 7 revelations: There is no other project quite like The Elements, the result of many years of dedicated research and development.
This first book – the Prologue – is the story I began ten years ago. I started researching in 2006, wanting to combine the esoteric feel of The Da Vinci Code with the gritty realism of Scandinavian Noir (or ‘Nordic Noir’) we know from books such as Stieg Larsson’s Millennium trilogy and The Girl With The Dragon Tattoo. Add to that interest in ‘the strands of people’s fates through time’, a dose of Nordic mythology wrapped within a secret code, a conspiracy gradually revealed – and The Elements as a series was born. Since 2007, I’ve expanded the story to encompass many different threads, characters and timelines, bound together by the reader’s process of discovery.
The result is a series starting from humble beginnings, growing into a multi-layered epic. This prologue is that humble beginning, starting with a crime, opening into a labyrinthine mystery tour that’s often kept me up late at night constructing it. So in the infamous words of J.R.R. Tolkien, ‘the tale grew in the telling’ – now encompassing at least twelve books being planned for publication and serialization 2017-2022.
Your help is needed to spread the word
If you enjoyed the story and the universe it is a part, please tell others about it. The Elements aims to grow and become adapted for television and can only realize potential by word of mouth – recommendations by readers, to people you know. If you are able to support the project by telling others, or by writing online posts, reviews or articles, please share your thoughts to help bring The Elements to a wider audience.
Enquiries to the author
Feel free to drop me a line on authormarkdavid@gmail.com – if you have any ideas how you could help – or if you have thoughts about how the story can be improved. As we say, ‘the proof of the pudding is only in the eating’, and a recipe once created is there to be improved on.
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Elementa Mundi - The Elements Universe
To provide more insight into The Elements universe the new dedicated Elements universe site Elementamundi.com will feature:
Gateways to different products, including serializations expanding the storylines, timeline books portraying the discoveries in the past affecting the protagonists in the ‘present’ near the end of the Cold War and illustrated multi-media books.
A character lexicon featuring who they are, what they look like, their character arcs.
Timelines illustrating the deeds of the past that have combined to influence the present.
Locations with extensive photographic resource being developed to illustrate the vast and expanding Elements backstory.
Photographic archives mentioned in the books.
After ten long and lonely years, let the story finally commence...
/> Prologue
***
I dream of a bird
He hung suspended in the air. In that briefest of moments that lasted an eternity, he knew. He knew why they said people saw their life flash by, voices from the past already playing.
I dream of an eagle
‘Do you want the good news or the bad news first?’
Then, like a diver sinking down, he looked backwards and upwards, up at the surface of his former life with arms outstretched, unable to see the land of contrasts to which he could never return.
‘The good news first.’
The sensation lasted but a moment; a brief sense of confusion as the sky inverted, replaced by the stairs – each step so sharp and detailed it could have been a photograph taken by a large format camera. He could take in every tread of weathered pine wood, seeing the pine cones littering their surfaces, the tell-tale print of mud made moments before by his own boots.
I dream I fly
So many steps followed by an inevitable look of physical incomprehension, his mind liberated from his body as it accelerated beyond the first momentary feeling of weightlessness. And yet, he still had time, time to take in rounded forms of smoothly formed rock, before his mind caught up to tell him, this is it, you’re falling. You are going to die.
‘The good news is it might be worth something.’
I am flying on wings, so high
He accepted his fate the moment he sensed disconnection from the physical world, his forward motion drawing him onwards and downwards, towards the inevitable he already knew was coming.
‘At least five thousand US at auction...’
He saw Justin standing there, like one of the magi bearing gifts for an infant King and yet, it was his own voice he heard.
‘Maybe more if you can find a collector who is interested.’
The first impact happened at the twenty-third step. He hit it with the back of his head, severing part of his scalp and compressing the first four vertebrae of his neck.
Like a great bird of the sky
Down, downwards, accelerating, eighty-two kilograms of adult male increasing in rotational momentum, arms and legs flayed by the pull of gravity.
‘So what’s the bad news?’
The fifteenth step shattered his back at the junction between the cervical and thoracic spine. The impact forced the seventh vertebrae to cut through the central nerve system, removing him of any future mobility.
I’m the eagle flying with ease
‘The bad news is, that if it was an original, it would be worth at least ten times that.’
The body succumbing to the simple laws of physics, legs spinning backwards and outwards in the course of the third revolution.
The body hit the seventh step left-leg first...
‘Which means it’s by an amateur, painting in the style of.’
... followed by a sharp crack as if from a whip, shattering the lower fibula and tibia half way between the knee and ankle, the tibia slicing through the muscular tissue of his lower leg.
‘I need more time to make a more detailed search.’
I can ride on the breeze
The left arm snapped at the ulna radius, the body commencing one final rotation.
‘For the time being consider it like a sparkling wine...’
The fourth and last impact landed on the cheek bone and lower jaw, mandible dislocating as he hit the ground. The broken edge of the tibia punctured the remaining muscle, piercing upwards through the softer subcutaneous tissue.
Over these mountains and forests
‘It looks and feels just like the real thing, but it isn’t Champagne... my advice is keep it and don’t bother selling it. But it does have merit. It’s a nice little piece.’
He was still alive. He felt sunshine, heard footsteps.
Like a ship on the seas
The footsteps were getting louder. He opened his eyes feeling unfamiliar. His mouth and jaw felt strange, recognising the metallic taste of large quantities of blood coming from somewhere inside his cheek. He tried to raise his head. Pressure, unbearable pressure forcing him to relax his head so it hit the hard, cold and wet ground.
He could see the stair.
The footsteps stopped. Close. Very close. Stair upon stair, rising into the clouds. The touch of something... rounded. Pleasant. Cold. It rested on the soft skin of his cheek, then his eyelid. He wanted to raise his hand and brush it away. The touch became a pain. He wanted to fight but his body wouldn’t respond. Pressure building, words strangled by the hand clamped across his mouth, the same hand stifling the screams exploding somewhere inside his head, his body as still as silence itself.
A metal implement entered the corner of his eye, turning inwards, puncturing skin and tendon. He gasped as it went in deep, then deeper, the joy of light taken as it severed the optical nerve and retinal blood vessels. He choked on his screams as the rounded implement following the concave curvature of his socket, twisting to one side, ripping through remaining tissue before being levered outwards. Something hit the earth with a faint sound that was felt more than heard. But that wasn’t the worst of it.
The worst was he still had one, good eye left.
Part 1: DISCOVERY
Chapter 1
A PAST UNITED
Sacrifice is offered to the spirits,
everyone is sprinkled with the blood.
The best part is gifted to the spirits,
what remains is to be consumed by men...
Trollkyrka Rites
13th October 1987 18:30
The air was heavy, sky darkening, the smell of rain pervasive despite the absence of raindrops. A black coupé was parked close to the edge of the forest, three hours walk from the rock called Troll’s Church, doors open. Mud-spattered alloy wheels greeted the visitors with the four-quadrant symbol of what had once been a utilitarian propeller, now synonymous with luxury, rain-studded windows illuminated from within by a light moving in the vicinity of the rear seat.
What had started as the execution of a routine duty had become a search for a killer. The victim’s car had been discovered in the west visitor’s car park. Two detectives worked rhythmically and routinely, searching with precision, despite being confined to cramped working conditions.
‘Whoever parked here was in a hurry,’ the first of the detectives said, the taller and bulkier of the two. He was leaning half-in, half-out of the car and paused for a moment, gazing past the driver’s door to the missing lining panel. It lay discarded on the passenger seat, dark cavities revealed and already forgotten.
His leaner, quicker companion with the flashlight turned to look at him. The second detective was the senior officer called Lindgren. He sat on the back seat, white rubber-gloved hands poised. He looked out at the dark edge of the tree line beyond the vehicle, to where a path marker provided entry to the unseen park and nodded.
The first detective retreated, sliding the driver’s seat into the down-forward position, so he could climb in to the back seat and sit down next to his companion who had his back to him. ‘I heard they passed the case to Almquist.’
Lindgren didn’t respond, concentrating on the task of inserting the flat edge of a knife blade underneath the fake leather lining of the side panel.
‘Some say he hasn’t got it in him,’ the first detective continued, turning his attention to the back lining behind the driver’s seat. ‘He’s getting a bit long in the tooth for this kind of thing if you ask me.’ He fumbled a hand into his pocket for his own knife, his breath vaporizing in the cold night air. ‘Should have quit when he was ahead.’
‘That’s the problem though isn’t it?’ Lindgren said quietly, turning around. He moved the light down to the seat, the light above his head lighting brown hair blonde. ‘He’s never been ahead, has he?’
‘Ah, that’s not true,’ the first detective moved his gloved hand along the edges of the lining, feeling with his fingers.
Occasional raindrops hit the metal r
oof above them as Lindgren returned to his task and pulled the liner, knife in hand. ‘Four times.’ He wrapped his white fingers around the edge and pulled. ‘Each one bad luck?’ He snorted as the panel came away with a series of popping sounds, the remaining plastic plugs pulled from their sockets. He directed a thin aluminum pen flashlight into the shadows of another cavity. ‘Some people are just born that way.’
‘Anyone can have bad luck.’
‘No. Mark my words,’ Lindgren said slowly, eyes scanning each crevice. ‘He won’t get anywhere.’ He sat there staring into the cavity for a moment before shaking his head.
The first detective grunted as he heaved, turning his back on Lindgren to look inside without seeing anything. ‘Then he could do with all the help he can get.’
Lindgren shook his head, turning around with the flash light in his hand. ‘Help? In most cases, cases like this... it’s like walking a path littered with rubble in the dark. It can be right there, in front of us.’ He waved the light on the seat, then moved it upward so it blinded his companion. ‘All we need is a little light.’ He moved the light away and smiled as he placed a hand in his pocket, taking out a piece of gum and popping it into his mouth, ‘All we have to do is follow it, picking up as we go along. But not Almquist...’
‘Cos he’s not up to it?’
‘Nah. He hasn’t got a light,’ he said raising his head. ‘Does he?’
‘He’s got Vikland.’
Lindgren smirked, turning the flashlight so it shone inside the back seat cavity. ‘What was the last murder case you can remember she worked on?’