Awaken the Darkness

by Dianne Duvall

  “So?” Rhonda asked with a give me some good news grin. “Are you interested?”

  Susan shook her head. “I don’t think so.”

  Her face fell. “Really? I’d think this place would be perfect for a writer.”

  Susan looked around wistfully. “It would be. But it just needs too much updating.”

  “That’s too bad, but I understand.”

  “Is there anything else you could show me in my price range?”

  Nodding, Rhonda mentioned a house on the outskirts of Carrboro and started listing its attributes as they slowly descended the front steps and meandered down the brick path.

  Please.

  Susan frowned. That thought hadn’t come from Rhonda.

  Glancing around, she saw nothing but fields and trees swaying in the gentle breeze. No indication of human life other than themselves.

  She looked over her shoulder. It seemed almost to have come from the house itself, which made her question whether or not she had actually heard it.

  Shrugging mentally, she nodded as Rhonda mentioned a second property that might interest her. But the farther they strolled down the path, the more Susan’s steps began to lag. Sorrow filled her, surprising in its intensity, as did regret and a sudden overwhelming conviction that she was making a huge mistake.

  Stopping, Susan faced the house and studied it.

  The sorrow faded, replaced by peace and happiness and that wonderful warmth.

  She could do this. She could buy this house and fix it up. It didn’t matter if it took years. It would be worth it. She would be so happy here. Just looking at it filled her with joy and hope and excitement. She wanted this house. She had to have this house!

  Turning to Rhonda, she interrupted the woman midsentence. “I changed my mind. I’ll take it!”

  Rhonda’s mouth fell open. Then her eyes widened and a huge smile dawned. “Wonderful! You’re going to love it here, honey. I just know it.”

  The thuds of car doors closing and the rumble of engines told him the women were leaving.

  Despair filled him. He had done everything he could to make the woman stay. Not the one who had come before with males. (He had filled those males with such fear that they had scampered away like cats being chased by wild dogs.) But the other woman. The new one.

  He had awakened to the sound of her voice, low and so appealing that it had coaxed him into braving the pain and remaining conscious. How long had he been out this time? Weeks? Months? He had no way of knowing down here in the dark with nothing but constant agony.

  Did he know her—the new woman? The one with the voice that seemed to stroke the very marrow of his bones? Did she know he was down here? Did she know why he was here? Who had put him there?

  He couldn’t remember anymore, if he had ever known at all.

  He couldn’t even remember his name.

  But there was something about her… this stranger… or not a stranger…

  He had called upon his gift and manipulated her emotions to try to coax her into staying. But she had still left.

  She would be back though. He knew she would.

  And he would be waiting.

  As soon as Susan got home, she panicked. What the hell had she been thinking? She couldn’t buy that place! It needed too much work! And it would take so much money. Money she didn’t have.

  She hadn’t even looked at the roof. Or the attic. Or asked if the house had ever flooded or if it rested in a one-hundred-year or five-hundred-year floodplain. Had it ever had mold problems? How old was the air-conditioning unit? The heater? The hot-water heater?

  She couldn’t buy that place! What about the plumbing and the electrical? In a house that old, there were bound to be problems. Big problems. What if it turned into a freaking money pit? Or what if it didn’t but something went wrong with her writing career and she ended up not being able to afford the updates? The publishing industry had changed in huge ways in recent years. There was no telling what would happen next.

  Rhonda was very understanding when Susan called her but somehow managed to talk her into taking another look at the place.

  The same thing happened when she did. Warmth filled Susan as soon as she stepped onto the front path. Warmth and an incredible feeling of welcome, of coming home. And as she walked through the house, noting the same flaws that had made her doubt the wisdom of purchasing the place, that feeling of excitement returned. Happiness. Hope. The certainty that this was where she was meant to be. That this was where she belonged.

  “So?” Rhonda gave her an encouraging smile. “Are you interested?”

  “Yes!” Susan declared.

  Then questioned her sanity again when she got home.

  What the hell was wrong with her? What was it about that place that made her throw all common sense out the window?

  Rhonda showed her the house again. And again. The fifth time she just stayed in the kitchen, working on her laptop, while Susan wandered from room to room with Jax.

  The old place really called to her. Seemed even to speak to her, but not in a creepy holy crap, it’s haunted way. She never once felt uneasy. On the contrary, she felt safe. Content. As if she belonged there.

  Please, a voice seemed to whisper.

  So much longing. Her own desire calling to her, perhaps, trying to override all doubt?

  Well, if that was the case, it worked. As long as Susan was at the house, she felt no doubt.

  Returning to the kitchen, she waited while Rhonda tucked her laptop away and grabbed her keys. The real estate agent closed and locked the door, then stared at Susan. “Listen, honey. Clearly you want this place, so I did something I don’t usually do. I went ahead and had the place inspected.” She pulled a sheaf of papers out of her large bag and handed it over. “The roof is in great condition. Unless there’s a hail storm or something, the inspector said it should last another decade or so.”

  “Really?”

  Rhonda smiled. “I know. I admit I was surprised. The electrical checked out just fine. The plumbing, too. He said the plumbing isn’t nearly as old as the house is and guessed the cousin’s parents updated it around the time they replaced the roof. He found a little rust on the wire thingies in the dishwasher, but I’ve got the same in mine at home and mine’s only two years old.”

  Smiling, Susan skimmed the pages in her hand.

  “He said the AC is only a few years old. The heater, too. The water heater will likely have to be replaced in the next couple of years though. He said the air ducts need cleaning. He recommended replacing them but said you could get by with just a cleaning if that was out of your budget. The porch railing needs work, but you already knew that.”

  Susan’s heart began to pound as she listened and read and listened some more. It was shockingly good news. To have so little wrong with a place this old? Amazing.

  “And…” Rhonda paused dramatically. “I talked the owner into coming down on the price.”

  Susan tilted her head to one side. “How far down?”

  “Way down. This house has been on the market for two years and is priced higher than other homes in the area. Homes with remodeled kitchens and bathrooms. I told her there was no way she would sell it at the current price, especially with all the updating it needs.” And that this was probably her last chance to sell the place. Everyone else I’ve shown the damned house to practically ran out the front door and never looked back. “So she agreed to knock twenty thousand off the asking price.”

  Susan stared.

  Rhonda leaned in and lowered her voice as though she feared being overheard, which Susan found amusing, considering there was no one around for miles. “Between you and me, she’s really eager to get this thing off her hands, so I may be able to talk her down another ten.”

  “Ten thousand?” Susan asked, finding it hard to believe and needing clarification.

  “Yes.”

  Do it.

  Susan didn’t know if that was Rhonda’s thought or the inner whis
per that kept compelling her to buy the place, but as excitement bubbled up inside her, she blurted, “I’ll take it!” Grinning big, she threw her arms around Rhonda and hugged her.

  Rhonda laughed and hugged her back.

  “If,” Susan qualified, “the owner knocks off the extra ten thousand.”

  “She will,” Rhonda said. “But…”

  Susan waited for her to continue. “But?” she questioned when the woman hesitated.

  “But this time I’m afraid I’m going to have to ask you for an EMD.”

  “A what?”

  “An earned money deposit to demonstrate your commitment to the offer you’re making.”

  Susan laughed. “No problem. I’m sorry I dragged you out here so many times.”

  Rhonda waved off the apology. “It’ll all be worth it once you’re in your new home.”

  Chapter Two

  Thuds roused him.

  Pain assaulted him as it always did. He could no longer remember the cause and had long since given up on identifying it. Hunger and thirst flayed him, too. But the woman he could hear moving around beyond his dirt tomb soothed him like a healing balm.

  Her soft footfalls padded across a wood floor somewhere above him. She was barefoot again and fretting over something. He didn’t know what, but could feel her emotions and almost see her nibbling her lower lip or chewing a thumbnail.

  Concentrating, he weakened her worry and replaced it with warmth. He had done so each time he had awakened to her presence in whatever structure rested atop him, filling her with the relief she brought him, the happiness. He didn’t know who she was. Hell, he didn’t even know who he was. But her being there…

  Well, he just knew he needed her. She made this—whatever this torture was—bearable.

  His heart beat once. He drew in a breath. The agony the slight movement fostered nearly plunged him into unconsciousness again.

  Where was he? Who was he?

  When his disquiet began to infiltrate the woman upstairs, he again filled her with warmth and welcome and happiness. She was the only thing that kept him sane.

  He was sane, wasn’t he?

  “When love,” she began to sing softly, “into my dreams was creeping.” Her voice was low and sultry. “I gave my heart into your keeping.”

  Pure ecstasy. How he needed her.

  As she continued to sing, he wanted to weep with gratitude.

  How long had he been down here, suffering alone? It seemed an eternity.

  How long had it been since he’d last roused? An hour? A week? A year?

  How was he even still alive? What was he that he could survive this? He might not be thinking quite right, but he knew his remaining alive for so long after being buried underground wasn’t normal.

  The pain that racked him crescendoed, eliciting a moan.

  A clickety-clack sounded above as her dog trotted down the stairs, then began scratching at the dirt.

  Find me, he willed both the dog and the woman. Please.

  Darkness swallowed him.

  Find me.

  Susan stilled. Her voice trailed off at the sound of that whispered plea in her head.

  Please.

  Today’s mail still clutched in her hand, she slowly turned and looked around.

  As usual, she found herself alone. But that hadn’t been the first time she’d heard a voice, stronger this time than the whisper she had initially mistaken for some inner voice that guided her.

  Assuming she was picking up on someone else’s thoughts, she had checked to see if she had acquired any new neighbors. But she hadn’t.

  When the voice didn’t surface again, Susan was surprised to feel a little disappointed. Though few words had been spoken, the feelings that had accompanied those she’d heard had wrapped around her like a warm blanket and made her feel good.

  Sighing, she headed into the kitchen.

  Night surrounded her, as comforting as an old friend, while she strode along a wide sidewalk. Pools of golden light illuminated the path, but she could see with complete clarity areas that lay in darkness.

  A college campus rose up all around her, quiet and deserted, most students in their beds.

  Someone walked beside her, their long strides in sync. When he said something that amused her, she turned her head and found a handsome man with short dark hair. Laughter lurked in his sparkling brown eyes. Both of them wore black pants, black shirts, and long black coats.

  She was as tall as he was. And male. But it felt natural.

  She drew in a breath… and could smell everything. The grass. The trees. The Dumpster behind the building up ahead. The cat creeping around one corner of the building they passed.

  And blood.

  The metallic tang hit her at the same time she heard a scuffle break out in the distance.

  She shared a look with her companion.

  In unison, they drew long katanas and picked up their pace.

  The scenery around them blurred, then swam back into focus.

  Four men knelt over two prone males on the ground. Spinning around, they regarded her and her companion with glowing eyes, some blue, some green. Their lips drew back into snarls of fury, flashing long fangs coated with crimson liquid.

  Raising the sword in her right hand, she lunged forward and swung.

  A dog barked.

  Susan jerked awake, her heart slamming against her ribs. Eyes wide, she sat up and examined the bedroom around her. What a weird-ass dream. Maybe she shouldn’t have watched that Blade marathon right before going to bed.

  Glancing at the clock, she groaned. 4:32 a.m. She had only been asleep for an hour. What had woken her?

  A bark echoed through the house.

  She sighed. Apparently a certain beagle had. “Damn it, Jax,” she grumbled as she rose. “You’d better not have woken me up because you saw another opossum waddling by. That’s the third time this week.”

  Grabbing her cell phone, she used it to light her progress as she shuffled out of the bedroom and headed downstairs. She shoved her mussed hair out of her face and tucked it behind her shoulder.

  A shiver shook her as she descended the last step. The first real cool snap must have swept through while she had slept. A chill had settled upon the house, causing gooseflesh to pepper the skin exposed by her soft tank top and pajama shorts.

  Rubbing her arms, Susan glanced at the front door, then the back. “Jax?”

  Woof! came his muffled response.

  Where the hell was he?

  It took a couple more barks for her to determine he was in the basement.

  “Oh, man. I really don’t want to go down there at night.”

  Both of the exterminators she had called had spent mere seconds in the basement before they had come running back up, faces ashen, and said they needed to leave. Immediately. No explanation given. So who knew what scuttled around down there after the sun set?

  Flipping the switch just inside the entrance, she squinted against the light, dim though it might be. “Jax?”

  More barks, accompanied by scratching sounds.

  Turning the phone off, she headed downstairs, wishing all the while that she didn’t have a fear of creepy crawlies. It was such a stereotypical girlie thing, but she’d never been able to shake it.

  “What the hell?” she blurted when she spotted the busy beagle. He’d dug a hole big enough for her to stretch out in near the center of the floor. “What are you doing?” she cried, hurrying forward. “No! Bad dog! Bad Jax! Stop that this… instant…” Her voice trailed off as the alarm and dismay that had rushed upon her disappeared. In its absence, curiosity arose.

  Overwhelming, burning, must-be-appeased curiosity.

  Tilting her head to one side, she watched Jax scratch, scratch, scratch at the dirt. “What have you found, boy? What’s down there?”

  She wanted to know. She really, really wanted to know. No, she had to know what was down there. She didn’t know why she had to know, but she did. Curiosity continu
ed to build within her until it conquered everything else. She had never in her life wanted to solve a mystery as much as she did this one.

  Looking around, she crossed to the area that housed a jumble of gardening tools. Setting her phone down, she picked up a shovel.

  Elation filled him. She was doing it. She was looking for him. Coming to free him.

  He concentrated what little energy he had on feeding her curiosity and dampening her fear.

  Dust sifted down into his little world as the soil above him shifted.

  His heart beat once inside his chest, the pain the slight movement sparked excruciating.

  He sucked in a breath. Coughed. Moaned in agony as his head swam.

  Jax barked.

  Susan grinned, as excited as the dog. “I know, right?”

  She didn’t know how long they had been digging. Long enough for her legs to acquire a nice coat of dirt, for blisters to form on her hands, and for her bare feet to grow cold and hurt from stepping up onto the shovel to push it down into the cold hard ground.

  Ignoring her tired back, she tossed another helping of dirt onto the large mound outside the hole. It was so deep now that she’d had to step down inside it in order to keep digging.

  Setting the point of the shovel back on the ground, she hopped up onto it.

  Ahhhhhhhh!

  Susan jumped as the deep roar reverberated through her. Dropping the shovel, she covered her ears to silence it but couldn’t. It was in her head, which spun suddenly. Heart pounding with fear, she staggered to one side and looked all around.

  Jax whimpered and leapt out of the hole, his tail tucked between his legs.

  She glanced down at the dirt beneath her feet, all excitement gone.

  What the hell was she doing? Digging a hole in her basement in the middle of the freaking night? What had…?

  Her heartbeat slowed as calm sifted through her.

  Jax stopped cowering behind her and stepped up to the edge of the hole.

  She returned her gaze to the dirt. What was down there?

  Curiosity seized Susan once more. Jax, too.