Finally, David released me from his deathlike grip. He shoved me into the back of the car, slamming the trunk down to trap me inside. This was it. I was never going to see anyone I knew again. As the tears streamed down my cheeks, I prayed that the police would get here in time to save my mother and Adrianna. Then I said another silent prayer, hoping they would find Adrianna. By hiding her from David, I may have just ended her life. No one would know to look for her in their family’s hidden room.
I curled into the fetal position, hugging my knees to my chest. When the car started, I squeezed my eyes shut, not prepared for what the future held for me. As the car began to lurch backward out of the driveway, the sound of sirens blaring hit my ears. There was a loud screeching noise, like tires skidding to a stop, before I heard a voice over a loudspeaker say, “Get out of the vehicle, and put your hands in the air!”
My breathing remained heavy. It was all over now. I couldn’t imagine a time when I would feel safe again, but I was grateful that the police had gotten here before David could get away with me in tow. I began screaming again, banging on the trunk so they’d know I was inside.
When the trunk finally popped open, I recognized Officer Archer reaching in to pull me out. I latched onto him instantly, crying onto his shoulder as he carried me to safety.
Epilogue
I had a vice-like grip on my mom’s hand as the nurse checked her vitals. I didn’t want to let her go, not even for a second, after almost losing her. Thankfully, the ambulance had gotten her to the hospital in time to save her. Upon arrival she was rushed into surgery. She had some internal bleeding, but the doctors found the source and dealt with the issue before too much blood was lost. Afterwards, they stitched up her stab wound and sent her to the intensive care unit to monitor her recovery. Thankfully I was allowed to stay with her.
It was hard arriving at the hospital and having my mother whisked away from me. All I could think about was how much I wanted, and needed, her to live. I would be lost without her. I couldn’t imagine a day where I woke up and she wasn’t right down the hall from me. Thinking like that had only made my emotions run ragged. I spent the entire time I got checked up, and had my forehead stitched and bandaged, crying. I was inconsolable up until the very moment I was allowed to see my mom after her surgery.
A nurse escorted me into her room, explaining how the surgery had gone well and how Mom was expected to make a full recovery. The nurse, Nurse Lien, gave me a blanket and the remote control to the small television across from my mom’s bed before leaving. I had been in the room for over an hour now, and all I’ve done is pull my chair closer to my mom’s bed and hold her hand while she slept. Even with all of the tubes and monitors hooked up to her, she looked beautiful and peaceful. I was so grateful to all of the doctors who had saved her life.
Adrianna had been another case completely. It was as if there was a black hole inside of me that was slowly growing and sucking away my happiness. I tried my best not to think about Ade because I knew if I allowed myself to think even one thought about her, I would break down again. My best friend is gone, and it was all my fault. David had said so himself. I was the reason he set his sights on Adrianna. He even thanked me for it. Although I had tried to save her, by the time the paramedics arrived she had already lost too much blood. They were able to stabilize her long enough to get her to the hospital, but she died in surgery. She had sustained severe head trauma, which caused her brain to swell, and that, added to the excessive blood loss, was too much. In the end, she lost her life, becoming the final victim in The Collector’s reign of terror.
Absentmindedly, I raised my hand to my forehead, touching the gauze that covered my branding. I knew I’d forever be labeled as the girl who escaped. I was the only girl to survive after David had her in his sights, though that didn’t make me feel any better. I was the demented version of Harry Potter—The girl who lived. People would recognize me by the eight on my forehead. The cut was so deep that I knew the scar would heal terribly. I already planned on buying the best scar cream on the market, using as much makeup as needed, and even giving myself bangs to keep it hidden. I had heard stories where survivors wore they scars as badges—trophies of their survival—but I wasn’t going to be one of them. I never wanted to see it. The eight would only remind me of the horrible night I’d experienced, plus all of the events leading up to it and all of the people I’d lost.
The police officers went inside the house after they took David into custody. They collected Adrianna from the second closet I’d hidden her in, lifted my mom’s body onto a gurney, and collected two dead bodies; one belonging to Holly Martin and the other belonging to Larissa Rodriguez. Apparently, Mrs. Rodriguez had stayed home during the search so someone would be there in case Adrianna returned. It was scary how far David was willing to go to continue what his father started. I still remember the smug look on his face as the police car he was loaded into left the scene. He didn’t take his eyes off of me the entire time.
I tried to shake the memory from my mind, but I could still feel the weight of his dark stare. I shuttered, hoping the memory wouldn’t be ingrained in my mind forever. If I thought my nightmares were bad before, I was in for a rude awakening. They would be even worse now.
Finally letting go of my mom’s hand, I turned on the small television, planning to flip through the news stations to see if any of them were covering the story already. The first channel I got to was showing live footage outside of the Rodriguez home. I stopped on it, turning the volume up slightly.
A pretty woman with smooth, chestnut skin stood to the side of the camera, holding a microphone to her mouth. Her tight, natural curls bounced as she talked enthusiastically. “For those just tuning in, we have breaking news coming to you from the Drexel Hill area in Pennsylvania. It has been confirmed that the notorious serial killer, The Collector, who has been terrorizing the Midwest for almost three years now, has finally been taken into custody.” She waved her slender arm out, gesturing towards the house behind her, where officers were still going in and out of the house. “The Collector, whose real name is Nathan Hawthorne, was apprehended here, in the home of his final victim, young Adrianna Rodriguez.” The picture I had given Adrianna’s parents to use for her ‘missing’ fliers of her in the cafeteria flashed on the bottom of the screen.
I bit my bottom lip to keep it from trembling as I stared at the photo. It was only taken a little over a week ago, but so much had happened in that short time span. Now my friend was gone and I would never see her again. There would be no more homework dates, laughing about boys, no more of her eating my lunches, or hanging out. My best friend since elementary school was gone and it was all David’s fault—Nathan’s fault. Whoever the hell he was. Whatever his name is, he’s the cause of all this pain I’m feeling now and I would never forgive him for that.
Adrianna’s picture began to scroll across the screen, her name and age going with it. The next picture to go across the screen was of her mother, and lastly was a picture of Holly Martin. Unlike the other’s, Holly’s picture froze on the screen, accompanied by her name and age.
“Tonight, Holly Martin, who has been missing from her home in Addyston, Ohio for six weeks was found dead at the scene of the crime. Her family has already been contacted with the devastating news and arrangements for a memorial service are already underway.”
My gaze flicked to the analog clock on the wall. The Martin family must have already been prepared for the worst. I had only been in the hospital for three hours, yet they had already made arrangements for a memorial service. It was strange to think that while I was here, life outside was still going on. I sighed, leaning against my mom’s bed and taking her hand in mine again as I focused my gaze back on the television screen.
“Nathan Hawthorne is being charged for numerous kidnappings, murder on multiple accounts, and attempted murder. Thanks to a statement given by one of the survivors of tonight’s horrendous events, Nathan, along with his deceased sister
Natalie, is being tied to another string of murders. Police think the pair may be responsible for more than thirty unsolved cases going back over the last decade.”
My jaw dropped at her final statement. The reporter’s words played on repeat in my head.
Police think the pair may be responsible for more than thirty unsolved cases going back over the last decade.
I had wondered how many people David killed, and now I had my answer. Six girls, not including the people he killed tonight, was bad enough, but the total number was abhorrent.
I thought about all of the times David, Nathan, was in my home, and the times I was alone with him in his. Mom and I couldn’t have imagined anything even remotely close to how horrible he really was. He ate dinner with us and we treated him like a human being, but in reality he’s the farthest thing from that. My skin crawled.
We were oblivious to the darkness within him—the darkness permeating the very soul of his existence. He hid behind a mask of lies and we were none the wiser—even I had been fooled at times.
I made a pact with myself right there in the hospital to never allow myself to trust anyone so absentmindedly again. After all, you never truly know who you could be dealing with.
Acknowledgments
As a lover of thrilling and suspenseful novels, I thought it was finally time to take the leap and actually write one. It helped that my mom wanted me to write one. My mother, Jenessa, is not a huge fan of romance, which is what all of my novels, until now, have an aspect of. The Darkness Within is my first novel without a romantic aspect in it, and I had so much fun writing it. So I have to say, “Thank you Mom for asking for a thriller! Without you, The Darkness Within wouldn’t have been written so soon.” Not only did she inspire me to write this novel, she also assisted with the naming process of Claire and Jasmine, and the appearance and characterization of Jasmine. Much like Jasmine, my mom has a fair skin complexion, vibrant red hair, and is absolutely beautiful inside and out. The bond between my mother and I helped me create such a strong bond between Claire and her mother. After all, writing from experience often creates the most realistic novels.
I would also like to thank my friends Erin Lee and Sara Schoen. I could not have written The Darkness Within without the encouragement and support from the two of them. Not only do these two keep me laughing at even the most inappropriate times from our constant group messaging, but they are also exemplary friends. They both are always ready to help when needed, including with the formatting of this novel, and with offering critiques on my cover design. Erin is also one of the main reasons for why I felt ready to take a shot at self-publishing. She is a great friend, and role model. Sara, like always, was there for me every step of the way. I was the guinea pig for her editorial skills and she did a fabulous job helping me bring Claire’s story to life. Much like with my other novels, and our co-written novels, she continues to push me to be the best writer I can be, and is always there to offer words of encouragement. Without Sara, I would not be the writer that I am today, and for that I am thankful.
I would also like to thank all of the readers, authors, shows, and nightmares that helped me tap into the more twisted part of my mind in which this story was living in. Thank you to my idol, Tami Hoag, for showing me how a good crime thriller should be written. I aspire to be like you some day. A huge thank you to my friend Carissa Ann Lynch for always letting me read and review her novels, and for keeping me up late at night reading and afraid to turn out the light. Thank you to my boyfriend, Lonnie, for always answering my FaceTime calls in the middle of the night after I am tormented by one of my more horrifying nightmares. Thank you to my Uncle Rudy who acted as my informant on police protocol for this novel. Thank you to the creators of Criminal Minds and The Following for helping my love for this genre grow. Finally, last but not least, I would like to give a very special thanks to my beta readers, Kelsey M., Christopher M., Brooke M., Melissa S., Tana W., and Kiarra T. Without you, none of this would be possible.
About The Author
Taylor Henderson is a psychology major at the University of Mary Washington who was born and raised in Northern Virginia. She has been an adamant reader and writer since she was young, and has always found solace in the worlds and characters that other authors have brought to life in their works. Taylor plans to continue writing, and hopes to expand to different genres in the future.
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