Empyreal: Awaken - Book One

by Christal M. Mosley

  She stared at it for a quick second, not knowing if she had the strength. But the chance was worth a shot. She reached out and swiftly ripped it from the tree trunk with sheer success. She looked toward her onslaught opponent.

  Now armed, Coralie used the large bough to strike the beast square in his jaw. The striking blow stunned it just long enough for Coralie to strike it once more across its body, sending it crushing into the side of another tree trunk.

  Coralie watched its body for a moment. She was expecting another movement, another charge, another attack.

  But there was nothing.

  She looked around. Her eyes soaked in the two heaps of lifeless fur lying still and unmoving on the ground. Jacques joined her, back by her side, as if he'd never left.

  She shifted her sight back to the motionless masses, and sighed. She noticed that her breathing had begun to slow.

  It's over, she thought, Wake up Coralie ... this is a dream, I just know it … so, why am I not waking up?

  Maybe it's not over, she heard, maybe it's just the beginning... the voice said.

  She tried shaking the eerie feeling that spread throughout her body. Just my imagination … She took another long look at the dark heaps that lay on the ground. Coralie grabbed ahold of Jacques' leash and said, “Come on boy, let's go.”

  She turned only to be faced with the strange figure standing before her. Its face was shadowed in complete darkness by the hood of his hooded jacket. Coralie, once again, saw a brief flicker of green within the darkness and gasped as the hooded character began to approach her.

  Chapter 4

  A dream. It’s only a dream, Coralie, wake up ... she chanted to herself.

  “It's not a dream, silly girl, and it is far from over ... you may have taken out my canine friends, but now, you must perish ... and of that I will make certain...” a male voice said, with a sly and cunningness to it. She knew that the voice had to have come from the faceless male that was standing in front of her. Though she could not see his mouth move, she knew it was the source from where the threats had emerged.

  The hooded assailant lunged at her, fast, but not quite fast enough. Coralie slid out of the way, in a single, solid, swift motion, releasing Jacques who sprinted after her attacker.

  The attacker turned and raised his arm, attempting to block the bounding Jacques. The attempt was futile. Jacques clinched onto his arm, knocking the enigmatic man to the ground, biting down, and drawing blood.

  The man twisted away from Jacques' clinching jaws and rose hurriedly to his feet. He began to lunge at Coralie again, seemingly un-phased by Jacques’ recent attack on him.

  Jacques flanked swiftly to her side. Coralie thought quickly, as she caught sight of the leash hanging from his neck. She reached down, grabbing the leash and hitting the release button simultaneously.

  As her aggressor approached her, hurtling toward her, she whipped the leash around her head and flung its metal clasp end toward her opponent. In a quick snapping motion, the metal clasp caught and wrapped around the attacker's wrist. Coralie jerked the leash tight, hurling him toward her. Using a nearby tree base as her leverage, she jumped onto it. She, then, used it to propel her body. Flinging herself through the air like a dagger. She vaulted into her foe, knocking him hard onto the ground.

  Staggering, her adversary started to rise against her and come for her again. Without thinking, Coralie put her hands in front of her, suddenly stopping him just a few feet in front of her. He tilted his head. Even though Coralie could not see his face, she knew there was a look of confusion plastered all over it. She lifted her hands, and as if on cue, he levitated off of the ground.

  Coralie could tell that he was scared and surprised. She could tell that he was not expecting this. The thought cross her mind to let him go, but she questioned her thought. If she let him go, would he run away? Or would he come at her again, in the attempt to finish her – surely as he had been ordered?

  Deciding against her gut, she began to let him down slowly. “I will let go, but under the solitary condition...” She paused feeling a brief sense of accomplishment. Very brief.

  Suddenly, she saw a change in his stature. She cut her words abruptly. The change was nothing too noticeable, but enough to make her stop his descend. His shoulders began to square-up and his chest rose as it filled with air. Instead of frightened or taken by surprise, now, he seemed confident and assured.

  That's when she heard it.

  It sounded like a low-rising chuckle, a bit of sickening laugher. It was coming from him. She couldn't tell if he was laughing out loud.

  Was it coming from him or from his thoughts?

  Coralie wasn't sure. All she knew was that this person – whoever they were – was there to hurt her.

  Still hearing the laughter seep from the faceless man, she stopped his descend to the ground. This must have struck him as odd, because his laughter suddenly stopped.

  Coralie almost didn't recognize the feeling that had swept over her – it was a sick, victorious pleasure. She unconsciously and unwilling allowed a grin to swell across her lips. With a swift motion of her hand, his body flung hard against the base of a nearby oak tree … this time, leaving him laying atop the ground, unmoving.

  Jacques' bark was ringing in her ears. She backed away from her hooded attacker, moving toward Jacques’ collar with his leash in hand. With her eyes still on the heaps that lay on the ground, she clasped the leash back around his neck.

  Coralie rose to her feet slowly, keeping Jacques close to her and her eyes fixed on the pummeled masses lying on the ground. She could see a dark, pooling liquid beginning to cover the earth beneath the lifeless bodies.

  She turned around wanting to run away, but her thriving adrenaline was gone. She tried to take a step forward, but she could feel herself slipping into darkness – then, all of her surroundings began to fade around her.

  * * * * *

  “Kate – ?” Cal called out, entering the kitchen.

  “In here, Dear.” Kate called back. “Did you check on her?”

  “She's fine, Honey, don't worry...” Cal answered her, watching her nervously scrub the already clean sink.

  “But you know that I do ... I can't help it. And don't act like you don't worry...” Kate turned around, facing Cal across the island bar that centered the kitchen.

  “Of course, I worry ... she's my little girl ... but, I have to admit, this is the one time that I don't worry about her...” Cal said, as he took a seat on one of the bar stools.

  She walked toward him, closing the space between them. “Not even a little ...?” Kate questioned, as she placed her hands on the counter top of the bar.

  Jokingly, squishing his fingers together, he said, “Well, maybe a little … Kate, she's my little girl, too ... and though she is growing up ... I always worry about her,” Cal said, then adding a smirk. “With that said, even though I'm always in a state of worry over our daughter’s safety and well-being. These times, these scenarios … these are the ones that I don't worry so much about ... she’s a Natural and she’s Protected.”

  “I know she's a big girl, Cal ... she doesn't let a day go by where she doesn't verbally remind me of that ... and that's what brings me to say this...” she paused for only a moment to gather her words, “Cal, Honey, I really think that it's time we talk to her ... I think, no, I know, that it's time that she knows ... It’s time that she knows the truth...”

  Cal sighed, not wanting to admit it, but knowing his wife was right. “Kate, I'm not sure – I mean, she's doing fine and I'm afraid it'll mess things up for her ... afraid that she –”

  “... will be angry with us?” Kate finished her husband’s sentence, looking up at him with sincere eyes.

  Looking down, Cal continued, “Maybe ... but, it's not just that … What if she's not ready?”

  “You know that she is ... she has always been ready...” she said, as she laid her hands on his shoulders. “You know that I worry about her on a constan
t and continuous basis, but I feel that we are doing her an injustice by keeping this life from her.”

  “But we had agreed ... this is what was best for her.” Cal started to argue defensively.

  “But that was then...” Kate said, with a calmingly, genuine, heartfelt voice.

  Cal exhaled a heavy sigh, as Kate continued.

  “You know, as well as I, the others her age already know what to expect and have already been –” but her words were cut off by Cal.

  “I know, Kate...” Cal said in a low voice.

  “So, are we agreed?” Kate asked.

  “Yes, we are agreed...” Cal spoke low, as he reached to his shoulder to touch his wife's hand for reassurance. He turned around on the kitchen bar stool, hugging her close to him. “But let's get through tonight, okay ... then we'll find a good time to sit down and talk with her.”

  “Okay...” she said, sealing their agreement with peck on her husband’s lips. “Are you sure she was okay?” Katelyn said, barely backing away.

  “Yes, of course I'm sure ... besides, I am certain that I would have been notified of anything different. She'll be fine...” he said to his wife, with assurance.

  “Well, just until … I mean, once she knows, it won't be necessary, but do you have plans for –” Kate stammered nervously.

  “Yes, I have everything ready ... just in case of emergency...” Cal said.

  “I'll just be glad when all of this is over...” Kate sighed, trying hard to shake her nerves, but still, she was unsuccessful.

  “Kate, you do realize that once she knows, it won't just be over … There will be no turning back ... we won't be able to undo this...” Kate took a deep breath. Cal continued, “It'll be the start of more than you or I, or anyone for that matter, could ever dream of...” Kate sighed heavily, not knowing which scared her more – revealing the truth or the truth itself.

  Chapter 5

  Coralie could feel her weight being lifted from where she lay. She tried to open her eyes, what seemed an almost impossible task. She finally managed to crack her eyelids open just enough to see a silhouette of what looked like a young man. The man was holding her close to his body. He felt familiar. He carried her tired, limp body … holding her close … holding her tight.

  She tried to shift her eyes into focus, but they would not allow it. She could feel the warmth of his body and the strength of his arms surrounding her, carrying her as if she were weightless.

  Where am I? Coralie thought to herself, unable to remember. Had she hit her head? Where was she? Trying to remember only made her head ache worse.

  She tried to open her eyes once more. There were beams of light shining all around him. There was a brilliant halo of light around his head, blinding her weakened sight from seeing his face. An angel? She thought, questioning the safety that wrapped around her. Was she dead? Could this really be happening? She couldn’t explain it, but somehow she felt a sense of safety.

  She made another attempt to open her eyes. The slits in her eyes barely allowed light to peak through them. Where had she been? Where was she now?

  Wait, light ... sunlight ... outside ... woods ... What had she seen? Had she passed out in the woods? What was she doing there? And who had found her?

  She started to try to sit up in his arms, but her effort was a failing one. Realizing how painful of a blow she must have taken to her head when she lost passed out in the woods, Coralie relaxed back into the security of his arms and started to float back into a state of unconsciousness.

  * * * * *

  Coralie awoke to the sound of her mother's voice. “Coralie,” her mother called out, from the staircase. Coralie could hear her mother's footsteps nearing her door.

  Coralie started to stir – mind first, then body.

  “Coralie,” her mother called again.

  Coralie rubbed her eyes and blinked a few times, trying to focus on the image pacing around her room.

  “Coralie, Hon, it's time to get up...” Katelyn walked over to her daughter’s bedroom window, moving the curtains aside, as she spoke, allowing light to peek in.

  “Mom? What time is it?” Coralie asked, groggily.

  “Three o'clock, dear...”

  “Three? Morning or afternoon?”

  “Afternoon ... honey, you've been asleep all day...”

  “Sleeping ... all day...” speaking sleepily, then Coralie sat up suddenly. She recalled events passing through her mind like a movie on fast forward. She saw moments flicker scene after scene.

  “Mom ... asleep ... I've been asleep ... are you absolutely sure that I've been asleep?” Coralie asked in desperation.

  “Yes, dear ... asleep ... and you need to get up and start getting ready ... it's getting late. Do you know what you are wearing tonight?”

  “The library. Mom ... I went –” Coralie started but was cut off.

  “Oh, the library ... right ... you mentioned that you needed to get some book on hold for your Lit class ... What was it again?” she paused, looking down at something in her hand. “Oh, yes ... Austen.” She said, reading the author's name. Katelyn laid the book down on Coralie's bedside table, then she began to cross Coralie’s bedroom again.

  “Wait, yes ... but how did you –”

  Cutting her daughter off again before she could ask a too in-depth question, “Honey, you mentioned it this morning ... in the kitchen ... I know that the library closes early on Saturday, so I thought while I was out running errands, I'd pick it up.” She stopped just long enough to look at her daughter's confused stare. “Besides, you've been so tired lately ... And well, between helping your dad and me with the Benefit, and working so hard on your studies ... I thought that you may need some rest, Cor.”

  “Yeah, I guess, but ... I mean –”

  “You’re welcome and you can thank me by getting up and getting dressed.” Katelyn said, leaning down to kiss her daughter atop her head.

  “Mom –” Coralie started.

  “Yes, Honey...” Katelyn stopped just before walking out of the bedroom door.

  “Umm...” Coralie paused. The words would not come. How crazy her mother must be thinking she is right now. She suddenly questioned herself. Questioning, had she really been asleep all day ... had she really never left the house ... had she not taken Jacques for a walk ... had she really not ran into some psycho-creep-canine-keeper, who had tried to kill her? Yeah, she thought, that didn't sound crazy. She snapped back into reality to see her mother’s questioning stare. “Nevermind, Mom.”

  “Okay, Hon.” Katelyn smiled and answered innocently, then turned to exit the doorway. Coralie sat on the edge of her bed, listening to her mother's footsteps descend the stairs. She shifted her eyes and stared at the book that lay on her bedside table.

  She sighed. She had already told her parents about her dreams once. She recalled the concerned looks on their faces. A few more mentions of this kind could get her an express ticket to seeking professional help.

  She took a deep breath and decided to keep this one mention to herself. It was not like she had made a regular practice of keeping things from her parents, but this seemed a bit necessary ... just until she could shake this feeling. The feeling that something was going on ...

  Her dreams had seemed real. Too real. But it had to be real, right? If not, if what she was experiencing was all a dream ... then, what did she have to worry about? Dreams couldn’t hurt you, could they?

  “Coralie...” she heard her mother call from downstairs, “I don't hear you stirring...”

  “I'm up, Mom...” Coralie said as she rose to her feet, walked across her room, and looked down from her window. The sight made a grin spread across her face. She saw Jacques resting underneath the big oak tree in their backyard.

  Maybe it was just a dream ... a vivid, crazy dream ...

  As she strode lightly across her room, she took a hair tie from her wrist, and pulled her hair into a short sprig to the back of her head.

  Something caught her eye.


  Her eyes widened as she quickly moved back into view of her mirror. She moved in closer to the mirror, checking out her extremely visible, bruised shoulder.

  She touched it lightly, causing a sharp pain to run up her arm. It was a dark shade of purple and blue that stretched over her entire shoulder, highlighted with red & pink scrapes.

  She closed her eyes tightly. She said to herself, “This is not real...it was only a dream... only a dream...”

  Eyes still closed, she touched her shoulder again. Still painful, she winced. She opened her eyes and took a deep breath inward.

  Looking at her bare shoulder, underneath the skinning strap of her tank top, the bruise gawked back at Coralie, taunting her. Her parents could not see this. What would they think?

  She heard lightly ascending footsteps, coming up the staircase. Quickly, she grabbed at her sweatshirt that lay across the back of her arm chair from the day before, and through it over her head.

  “Coralie?” her dad said, as he knocked lightly on the door frame.

  “Hey Dad!” she answered, quickly.

  “A little jumpy, huh?”

  “Uh, no ... well, yeah, I guess ... still not quite awake yet...”

  “Well, are you awake enough for a mid-afternoon snack?” Cal asked, as he pulled a plate from his back. “I made you an ultimate grilled cheese – your favorite – well, aside, of course, from Mom's cold spaghetti...”

  “Well, of course...” she said with agreement.

  “... so, I thought that since you had had that for an early morning breakfast – and you slept clear through lunch ... you're surely panged with hunger, eh?”

  Coralie's stomach growled as if on cue, answering her dad's question.

  “Actually, I hadn't noticed until just now, but, yeah … I'm starving...” she said, taking the plate and grabbing one of the precisely cut triangles. “Thanks, Dad!”