by M. K. ROZE
After Twilight
Text copyright © 2019 by M. K. ROZE
ISBN:
All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S.
Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be
reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any
means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without
the prior written permission of the publisher.
This book is the work of fiction. Names, characters, places,
and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or
used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales,
or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.
The publisher is not responsible for websites (or their
content) that are not owned by the publisher.
Printed in the United States of America.
I dedicate this book to my children.
Without them convincing me to write it, this novel
wouldn’t exist.
OMETHING WAS SUFFOCATING ME.
A black silhouette in the form of a person hovered
over me. I kicked and thrashed at it, desperate to
breathe. The black mass released me and slowly backed away.
I gasped for air and lay frozen on the cold ground, watching
its every move. The figure formed into a ball then shot
straight through me like a heatwave.
I placed my hand over the searing sensation in my chest
and sat up. “What the hell was that?” I said, only to realize
there was no sound when I spoke.
I scanned the moonlit forest for the shadowy figure,
then branches snapped above my head. I jumped to my feet
and looked up into the lifeless trees but saw nothing. It was
pure darkness with wolves howling in the distance.
Something hissed inches from my ear. I whipped
around to see what it was, and a bone-chilling breeze blew
my hair back. I took off running down a trail until I came to
a dead end. I scanned the heavy brush in front of me,
wondering if I should go back the way I came, then
something growled behind me.
I screamed and charged through the heavy brush like a
bull, branches scratching my face and arms. I endured the
pain and continued thrashing my way through until I reached
a cobblestone street. I slowed down and glanced at the tree
to my right, with a noose hanging from it. I gulped hard and
narrowed my eyes down the street at the small village up
ahead.
“Hello, Divinity,” a woman’s voice said in an Italian
accent from behind me.
I gasped and spun around. A woman who looked to be
in her early twenties, stepped from the shadows of the forest
into the moonlight, wearing a ripped, red medieval gown.
“My name is Viata.”
She ignored me and twirled her black, curly hair around
her slender finger. “Divinity, did you think we couldn’t find
you?”
“I told you my name is Viata.”
She stepped toward me and hissed, blowing her foul-
smelling breath in my face.
I grimaced, spun around, and ran toward the dilapidated
buildings with straw-thatched roofs. When I came to an
alleyway, I continued down the cobbled road and turned the
corner, but it came to a dead-end.
“Crap,” I said. I peered over my shoulder. The woman
was nowhere in sight, so I squatted behind a horse carriage,
trying to catch my breath. A couple of deep breaths later,
something touched the top of my head. I flinched and looked
up at the woman floating over my head, grinning at me.
⁓ ⁓
A scream escaped my lips as I stared into her black eyes.
There was no life behind them—only large holes of hypnotic
emptiness. I crawled away, jumped to my feet, and faced her.
“W-what are you?”
She flew at me and grabbed my hair, holding me in
place. “I’ve been waiting a long time for this moment.”
“Let me go! You have the wrong person.” I kicked her
in the stomach as hard as I could, but she didn’t budge.
Her eyes turned red as fire, and she grabbed my neck
and squeezed, making it crack. I dug my nails into her ice-
cold arm, trying to get out of her firm grip. With her free
hand, she reached over her shoulder and pulled out an
ancient-looking dagger.
“What are you doing?” I choked.
The woman smiled malevolently as she impaled me
through my heart.
I screamed from the burning pain and clutched the
dagger, holding it in place. “Why?” I coughed up blood and
dropped to the ground.
“Divinity!” a male voice yelled in a Romanian accent.
The woman twisted her head in the direction of the
man’s voice, then back to me. She leaned over me and moved
her head like a cobra, her eyes penetrating mine. “You’ll
never gain full power now.”
My heartbeat slowed down, and the plane’s interior,
with a male passenger looking over the seat at me, came into
focus.
“Viata!” Mom’s voice yelled in my left ear.
I turned to her.
Mom’s blue eyes turned black and her features morphed
into the woman from my dream.
⁓ ⁓
Oh no. Not again. “Get away from me!” I screamed and
pushed her head into the plane’s window.
“Viata, what the hell are you doing?” Dad grabbed me
and held me still.
“Let me go!” Within seconds, Mom’s face turned back
to normal. “Mom, I’m sorry. What happened?”
Mom pulled the hair tie out of her long red hair and
rubbed her head. “You were telling me about which tourist
attractions you wanted to see in Romania, then you went
silent and looked straight ahead like you were in a trance.
Don’t you recall what happened?”
“I remember your voice fading, then I was somewhere
in a forest with that evil woman chasing me again. Did I say
anything?”
“No. You started screaming while holding your chest.”
Dad looked at Mom with his wide brown eyes. “Julia,
you two are making a scene. Will you two please talk about
something else?” I knew he was mad because he called Mom
Julia instead of her nickname, Jules. He glanced at the other
passengers on the plane and looked down at his phone.
A flight attendant approached us. “We heard screaming.
Is everything okay?”
“Yes,” Dad said. “Our daughter had a nightmare.”
“I’m sorry. Do you need anything?”
I turned to her concerned look. “No, thank you.”
“Okay, well, let me know if you change your mind. We’ll
be landing in Romania in twenty minutes.”
I forced a smile.
“Awesome contacts,” she complimented.
“Thanks.”
She smiled and walked away.
⁓ ⁓
I wasn’t wearing contacts. I was born with light silver
e
yes. When I was younger, kids at school used to call me an
alien, and I hated it. Mom felt bad and took me to the eye
doctor to get colored contacts, but when I put them in, they
blinded me until I took them out. The optometrist said it was
the weirdest thing he’d ever witnessed.
I took my sunglasses out of my bag and put them on,
trying not to draw any more attention.
“How embarrassing,” Dad said.
“Which part? My sunglasses or my alien eyes?”
Mom leaned forward and stared him down. “Bret, stop
it,” she scolded in a harsh whisper.
Dad sighed and looked at his phone. “We’ll discuss this
when we get off the plane.”
I glanced at the movie that was on the airline monitor,
wondering why I had the same dream and why it felt so real.
When we landed in Bucharest, we got off the plane and
entered the massive airport. It was a lot like the one we
departed from in Jacksonville, Florida, except all the signs
were in Romanian and English.
Dad led us to a few empty seats with no one around. He
plunged into the seat and let out a loud sigh. I set my carry-
on next to me and sat across from him.
Mom sat in the seat to his right and turned to him. “Can
we talk about what happened on the plane when we get to
the hotel?”
Dad arched his thick, black brows. “When we get back
home, you need to schedule another meeting with her
psychologist. Or better yet, call Dr. Wells. She’s one of the
best psychiatrists in town. Let’s see if she can fix her.”
Mom looked away, shaking her head.
⁓ ⁓
“Really, Dad? I don’t need to sit in a room and reminisce
about kids that used to bully me.”
Dad leaned forward. “Viata, they did a lot more than
that. They locked you in a damn dumpster for two hours.
You almost died in there from the heat.”
My eyes filled with tears, remembering that horrible day.
Dad sat next to me and placed my head against his chest.
“I’m sorry for bringing it up.”
I wrapped my arms around him. “I’m sorry, too.”
He kissed my forehead. “It’s not your fault.”
Mom sat next to me and rubbed my back.
I thought about what had happened to me on the plane.
“Is it possible to dream while you’re awake?”
Dad shrugged.
Mom stood. “That, or you were hallucinating from not
sleeping the entire flight.”
“What if it happens again?”
Dad stood and pulled me up. “Let’s worry about that if
it does. Come on, we’re going to miss the train.”
We retrieved our suitcases and continued outside.
As Dad flagged a taxi down, I glanced at a young woman
in a white strapless dress running over to a man. She jumped
in his arms and said something in Romanian, then kissed
him. I smiled and turned to a man in a tan suit fanning
himself off with a newspaper.
A young male driver got out of a taxi, greeted us, and
opened the trunk.
Dad took my suitcase. “What the heck is in this?”
I grinned. “My entire summer wardrobe.”
He smiled and got in the taxi.
⁓ ⁓
Mom got in, then I did. It was a tight squeeze, but we
managed.
“Can you take us to the North Railway Station, please?”
Dad asked.
“Yes, sir,” the driver said in a soft Romanian accent.
“Thank you,” Dad replied.
“Where are you guys from?” the driver asked.
“St. Augustine, Florida,” Mom said.
“Very nice. What brings you to Bucharest?”
Dad placed his arm around Mom. “We’re celebrating
our twenty-second anniversary with our daughter before she
starts her senior year of high school. She’s never been here
before, so we decided to let her experience the same journey
we took the last time we were here.”
“Congratulations. Where are you heading to?”
“Thank you,” Mom said. “We’re taking the train to
Brasov.”
“Very nice. Are you going to visit Bran Castle?”
“Yes,” Dad replied.
I leaned forward and looked at Dad. “I want to see
where I was born before I go into any castle. I don’t feel like
being buried alive if one of them decides to crumble.”
Dad winked.
The driver chuckled and looked over his shoulder at me.
“Are you Romanian?”
Why would he think that? Maybe because I have long dark brown
hair.
I smiled, trying to be polite. “No.”
“Well, you look like a Romanian goddess.” He winked.
I giggled at his pathetic pickup line. “Thanks.”
⁓ ⁓
Mom cleared her throat. “Our daughter isn’t eighteen
for another three months.”
“My apologies.” He turned around and slowly drove off.
A lot of people thought I was older than my age because
I was born with Poliosis, which caused a thick gray streak in
my hair. I wanted to dye it, but Mom didn’t want me to ruin
my hair, so I was stuck with it until I turned eighteen.
I looked out the window, thinking about how I was
anxious to start college next year. My parents were well-
known criminal lawyers and were respected by many. I
decided to follow in their footsteps and become one too.
The driver continued through downtown Bucharest. It
was bumper-to-bumper traffic, but I didn’t mind. It gave me
time to see all the people that were walking along the
cobblestone streets. I smiled when we passed a few girls
sitting at a table outside laughing. It reminded me of my best
friend, Kaylee.
As we drove on, I took a couple of pictures of the
baroque historical buildings that were all clustered together.
I frowned, seeing that some of them were covered in colorful
graffiti. I wondered why someone would want to destroy
them.
“How do you like it so far?” Mom asked.
I placed my hand over my heart. “I’m in love.”
It reminded me of my earlier dream too, but I wasn’t
about to tell her that.
“Me too.” She held Dad’s hand.
When we pulled up in front of the massive train station,
I got out and stared at the beautiful clock high up on the
building’s façade. Below the clock were large red letters that
read: CFR.
⁓ ⁓
“What does CFR stand for below the clock?”
“Căile Ferate Române,” the driver replied. “It means
Romanian Railways’.
“Thanks.”
I glanced at the gray pillars that supported the old yellow
structure, creating a remarkable view. I took out my phone
to take a video as we walked inside. It reminded me of a mall
with tons of food and stores.
A big man approached me. “Miss, you’re not allowed to
record in here unless you get permission. Please put your
phone away until you’re outside.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t know.” I hurried up and put it in my
; back pocket.
The security man pointed at a red and white sign.
“There are signs everywhere.” He grinned and walked away.
I glared at Mom and Dad. “Why didn’t you tell me I
couldn’t record?”
Dad raised one eyebrow and looked at a crowd coming
toward us.
“Honey,” Mom said. “It’s been years since we’ve come
here. I can’t remember everything.”
“That’s so stupid. Please don’t tell me it’s going to be
like this everywhere?”
Dad turned to me. “It’s not stupid, Viata. We’re in a
different country. You have to respect their rules.”
I rolled my eyes.
Dad and Mom ignored me the entire thirty minutes in
the ticket line. I wanted to use my phone because I was so
bored, but I didn’t because I thought security would arrest
me.
⁓ ⁓
After a long wait, we got on the train. I was happy to see
it had two red seats in each row. I sat behind my parents and
placed my bag on the empty seat next to me, hoping no one
would sit there.
“How long before we reach Brasov?” I asked.
“About three hours,” Mom replied.
“Cool.”
After the other passengers boarded, the train started to
move. I placed my forehead against the window, observing
all the houses, some old, some new. As we went further, the
view changed to a stunning countryside full of beautiful tall,
old oak and pine trees with mountains rising behind them.
I rubbed my eyes and faced forward, trying to get
comfortable. I put my sunglasses on to shield out the sun
through the huge window, and an older woman stopped in
the aisle.
“I love your hair,” she said.
“Thank you.”
She smiled and walked away.
Mom peeked through the space between the seats. “See,
Viata. Everyone wants your hair color nowadays.”
“Yeah, well, that’s because they weren’t born with skunk
hair,” I whispered, trying not to laugh.
“Skunk hair,” Dad repeated and chuckled.
I’d gotten used to it over the years but hated it when I
was in middle school. Everyone made fun of me, calling me
not only alien eyes but skunkhead too. The nickname stuck with