Esoterica 1: Liam's Awakening: A Lovecraftian Fantasy Harem Adventure (Esoterica Chronicles)

by Virgil Knightley

  Esoterica 1

  Liam's Awakening

  Virgil Knightley

  Eldritch Blade

  Copyright © 2021 Virgil Knightley

  All rights reserved

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Dedication

  Part 1

  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

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Part 2

  Prologue

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Chapter 31

  Join the Revolution!

  To my puppy, who always provides much needed moral support throughout the writing process.

  Part 1

  Chapter 1

  A Failed Respite

  Street lights flickered on just as I closed the apartment building door behind me with a gentle click. Walking was a laborious task now that I required a cane to do so, but I still relished the open air and the escape from the drab interior of my studio apartment.

  Ah, that fresh city air, I almost chuckled to myself. Truth be told, though, I had grown fond of the smell of diesel and gasoline. These walks were a holy respite and a sacred release from the stresses that had built up in my life. The sonorous bellow of traffic entered my ears as a strong gale forced me to reconsider my first step, but it wasn't before long that my feet had found their stride and my pace quickened, limping with purpose and confidence in the direction of the park.

  But something was different about me today. I felt my hands tingling several times throughout the day, almost vibrating, with a strange sensation—a surge. It was like a charge of electricity was always there, buzzing just beneath my skin. Not overtly uncomfortable, but certainly weird.

  And then, as I felt that surge growing, as I felt the air grow thick and cold, for a split second I saw glowing green cracks all around me, making me jump and rub my eyes in response, but by the time I opened them again, the cracks were gone.

  “Great,” I groaned. “Now I’m seeing shit, too.”

  I'd hoped it wasn't something I'd need to report to my doctor. I'd spent plenty of time in front of white-coated men these last six months—enough to last me for a while. Just as I began thinking about sterilized white lab jackets in sterilized white hospital rooms, a voice rang out from across the street.

  “Liam!” it shouted. The voice was feminine, but I was hesitant to acknowledge its source at first. “Liam Elloway!” the voice persisted, this time loud enough that I couldn't pretend not to hear it without looking like a certified asshole. My head reluctantly turned toward the figure on the other side of the road, and I sighed through the mask of a polite smile as my classmate—and close friend—crossed the street to speak with me.

  “Hey Chelsea,” I said, faking enthusiasm with the best of them. Through a tight grin, I beamed at her and said, “Crazy to run into you!” I adored my classmate, actually, but having my brief respite interrupted was a nuisance I hadn't been counting on. Still, I couldn’t hold it against her of all people.

  “Not really,” she said, “I was on my way to your apartment, remember?” She eyed me expectantly, now only a few feet from where I stood.

  I palmed my face. I'd forgotten. “Shit, sorry about that,” I replied in embarrassment. “I totally forgot! You need the books!”

  Chelsea and I didn't initially think of one another as good friends, but we had been reliable 'book buddies' since the middle of freshman year. The cost of the textbooks at school was nearly prohibitive for both of us, so since we had the same major and we knew each other from high school, we shared books for most of our classes. I bought books for half of the courses, and Chelsea bought the other half, and we'd trade a couple times a week to do our readings, usually after class, but there was a test tomorrow in Physics II that Chelsea needed her book returned in order to prepare for.

  “It's totally fine. I'm not in a huge hurry,” she said, finger quotes flailing at the word ‘huge’, “But I don’t have all night.” She smiled as she finally caught her breath. “Were you headed somewhere?”

  I shook my head. “Not really. I just felt like going for a walk. I think I'm all finished studying for the test, so I needed a break.”

  Chelsea's constant smile had already started to break through my bad mood. “How about I walk with you for a bit? Would that be okay?” she suggested. I could smell spearmint on her breath—chewing gum that she perhaps recently spit out or swallowed. She stood so close to me that nearly all my senses could take her in. It brought back a flood of recent memories that I quickly buried to avoid flustering myself, but I felt my cheeks burn hot nonetheless.

  A part of me still needed human connection after all, and Chelsea had a record of providing that for me—to say the least. The smile I returned to her was more genuine than what I originally wore upon seeing her crossing the street toward me. “Sure. Yeah, I think I could use some company.” At least I wouldn't be alone with my thoughts. That was rarely good.

  The park wasn't far. We crossed two crosswalks and walked three blocks to wind up there, and being a bit late in the evening, it wasn't all that busy, either. There was far more to smell and hear than there was to see after the darkness of dusk had settled itself. The lights were on in the park, but their eminence only extended so far, mostly serving to line the walking path and a paved bike trail. I felt more at peace here than in my own room. We made our way to a bench where I liked to sit, though I was usually alone when I did so.

  As we seated ourselves, I turned my head over to Chelsea. She had dirty blond hair done up in a high ponytail emerging from a hot pink scrunchy with a white floral pattern. Her eyebrows were dark but well-groomed and sculpted, and she had bright, expressive eyes that I'd always found very appealing. Her midriff-bearing t-shirt and form-fitting yoga pants betrayed a very athletic physique, even showcasing a modest six-pack. Chelsea was on the track team and spent a lot of time at the gym. I longed for the days when going to the gym was an option for me, back before the accident.

  …Before the accident. Dark thoughts crept back, but I managed to dismiss them. The task was made easier for a friend having been there.

  We sat in silence for a moment longer than what was probably comfortable for Chelsea. Eventually, I had to say something to ease the tension.

  “How are you keeping up with your other classes?” I asked, casually brushing loose strands of hair out of her face, blown there by a restless wind. She rea
cted warmly to my familiar touch.

  “Honestly, it could be better, but I won't get anything below a B this semester, I think.”

  “You could do worse,” I agreed.

  “D's get degrees!” Chelsea said. She punctuated her remark with an adorably toothy grin.

  “So, you ready to graduate?” I asked.

  She sighed with a grin. “Oh hell yes,” Chelsea answered. “So close.”

  “Yeah, so close to… grad school?” I said with a prodding chuckle as I leaned forward to better see her reaction.

  “Fuck, don't you dare remind me. Even after I graduate, I've got two more years of this shit.” She eyed me cautiously and leaned in a bit. “How about you? What's your plan?” She looked almost nervous to ask.

  My mind almost went retreating back to places that it shouldn't. It almost went back to the accident. It destroyed my plans. Now I had no plans. Nothing.

  “I honestly don't know,” I said. “I guess some… insurance money will be coming my way eventually,” I continued with a gulp.

  “Shit, Liam, I didn't mean to bring that up.” She twirled a loose strand of hair around her finger and gritted her teeth, pressing her shoulder against mine.

  “Honestly, the one thing I hate more than the topic coming up is people weaseling around it, so don't worry about it,” I replied. And it was true. It stung to think about, but not as much as it hurt to avoid and ignore completely. I hated being treated like a field of landmines. The danger in thinking about it, though, was that it was a dark, depressing rabbit hole that I wasn't always able to escape on my own.

  “Can I ask something about it?” she ventured. “It's totally cool if you don't want me to.”

  “Spit it out,” I said, shifting my head skyward. The stars were starting to come out. Well, the few that could be seen despite the light pollution of the city, anyway. I always relaxed a little at the sight of the night sky. Somehow it just felt like home. Even after the death of my family, that much remained true.

  “The way I heard it from the paper, it's kind of crazy you survived, isn't it?” she queried, chewing on a loose strand of hair, staring directly into my eyes. Shit, she was really getting right into it. The persistent attempt at eye contact made me even more uncomfortable.

  “Yeah,” I admitted, squirming under her gaze. “The truck collided with my side of the car. I should have been hit the most directly.” Images of blood, bone, and shattered glass flashed in my mind. I bit my lip as my eyes welled up, turning my head to avoid showing my weakness.

  “And yet you got out of it with a few bruises and a broken leg?”

  “A supremely messed up leg, yes,” I said. “It is strange, though.”

  After a pause, Chelsea groaned. “It’s so fucked up that I brought that up. Just forget it. I’m so sorry.” She looked away in embarrassment at her own nosiness.

  I didn’t respond. Before long she joined me in staring up at the stars in silence. We both leaned back against the park bench, her shoulder digging into mine. The sound of crickets chirping began to fill the air around us, slowly drowning out the cacophony of lesser noises such as the underfoot shuffling of grass as passersby did their passing by. With traffic dying out, the smells of the park’s flowers and freshly cut lawn finally overpowered the smell of gasoline. But it was another sense entirely—a sixth sense, for lack of a better term—that caused me to go on alert. My nostrils flare as my skin tightened against my body. Goosebumps.

  “Liam, your eyes are…” Chelsea’s voice trailed off in my head as I focused on the unquestionable feeling that something was off.

  With an inexplicable sense of foreboding and awareness looming down on me, I had slowly lowered my head from the starry night sky and scanned the park. Sitting on the opposite side of the bike trail, his dark eyes transfixed on my face, sat a man wearing a black trench coat and an even blacker hood that appeared to extend from whatever he wore beneath the coat.

  I stared back at the man. He continued to watch me, apparently unbothered by his being noticed. This went on for two or three long minutes before Chelsea finally became aware of the situation.

  “Ummm. Should we go?” she said, whispering into my ear anxiously as she nudged me into action.

  I wordlessly moved to stand. Chelsea put an arm around me, instinctively helping me to my feet as I leaned on my cane. As we walked off, the man in the trench coat finally deigned to smile and nod at our departure, as though we'd just had a pleasant chat.

  “How did you do that thing with your eyes?” Chelsea said when we had reached the intersection again. A car zoomed by just as we were about to step into the crosswalk, causing Chelsea to grab me by the elbow and shout a few colorful words at the transgressor.

  “What thing?” I replied. I had no clue what she was talking about.

  “Your eyes went almost completely dilated, and they seemed to—I dunno—glow or something,” she said. “I thought that’s why the guy was looking at you.”

  “Must have been something to do with the park lights reflecting in my eyes,” I said with a shrug.

  In retrospect, that was far from the oddest thing Chelsea would see me do that night.

  Chapter 2

  Inky Black Tentacles

  The mood shifted upon arriving back at the apartment. I tensed up a bit, awkwardly recalling the evening I had shared with Chelsea in my room several weeks prior. A lot had happened since then, but that was the last time she had been here. When I looked over at her, I was confident from the flustered look on her face that she was thinking about it as well. We stepped into the tight elevator together, our bodies somehow ending up closer to one another than they needed to be.

  “No tequila this time, okay?” She said with a sly but shy wink.

  I hadn't expected her to broach the subject, albeit indirectly. I laughed a deep, genuine laugh, which relaxed me somewhat, even beyond the tension of the situation. The therapeutic laugh paid its dividends toward the rough night of stocking shelves that I still expected.

  “We finished up all my booze last time, anyway.”

  “Right, I remember now,” she said, blinking fast, staring straight ahead now like she was walking through Customs at the airport.

  I felt invigorated to see her so hot and bothered at the memory of our tryst. I positioned myself facing her but still left her a bit of space. “Remember anything else about that night?” I said, cocking a risky eyebrow.

  She looked at the ceiling innocently. “In related news, you'll be glad to know I finally had my period last Friday.” Her eyes met mine for the briefest moment, and then they wandered back to the elevator door.

  Ding.

  “So… that textbook,” I said.

  “Yep, that textbook,” Chelsea echoed with a nod.

  “Good ol' textbook,” I added.

  “Absolutely. Good ol', deeply satisfying textbook that we should do again sometime,” Chelsea said.

  “What?” I sniggered in surprise.

  “What?” Chelsea mimicked me, batting her eyelashes innocently and flashing a cute grin.

  As we stepped out of the elevator and walked the length of the hallway toward my room, the lights flickered and died without so much as a warning.

  “Well, that's shitty,” I said. “First time that's happened this year.”

  “That's scary! Could've happened in the elevator,” Chelsea noted. “What would we have done then?” she said in horror.

  “I feel like I might know the answer to that question,” I chuckled, resting a hand just above her athletic ass. Chelsea's cheeks flushed at the remark, and she bit her lip, but she didn’t flinch at my touch.

  I withdrew my hand fast, though, and I toggled on the flashlight function on my phone and fumbled with the keys in my pocket, clumsily unlocking the door to my room. Before I could get it open, I noticed a ghoulish green glow emanating from underneath the door, coming from the other side. I jerked back in surprise.

  “What's that light?” Chelsea rasped, clock
ing it as well. It oozed in an ethereal way out from under the door, writhing and twisting to a disturbing degree.

  “I've got no clue.” I creaked it open with caution. There, on the other side, was the death of my innocence. The room was essentially gone—barely recognizable. The walls on all sides of the room's interior were split and fractured, and deep cracks that shed eerie emerald light were everywhere, on all surfaces, and they were the worst and densest on the ceiling. One crack was more than two feet wide—wide enough that ‘crack’ was not the right term for it. From that fissure protruded black inky tendrils that grasped and groped at the air with a desperate longing for… something.

  When I opened the door, scarcely pushing against the brassy handle, it slammed itself on the wall like the pounding of a bass drum. The freaky tendrils found me fast and flailed excitedly, as though they'd been looking for me all along, and they quickly extended in my direction. I never slammed a door so hard in my life.

  “Sweet Baby Jesus, what was that!” shouted Chelsea. “Fuckfuckfuckfuck…”

  “Raincheck on the Physics book, yeah?” I growled as I attempted to lock the door, but it was too late. Tendrils had managed to find their way into the cracks of the door as it closed and prevented the lock mechanism from working. The two of us took a few steps back in the darkness as slick black appendages probed the air in pursuit of us.

  But then there was a light at the end of the hallway! The light in the fire escape was bright!

  …And green. Fuck.

  “Break into another room!” Chelsea squeaked, trying to kick down the door of Mrs. Taylor’s residence. Mrs. Taylor was a kindly old lady from across the hall. I joined her efforts, and the cheap door flung open in time with our synchronized kicks, making me feel like we were supercops in a police drama.

  We charged into the apartment, my adrenaline surging. My stomach fell to see jade-colored cracks beginning to spread there, too. Damn it, I thought. Was there no way out?