DEVIL’S NIGHTMARE:
PREMONITIONS
By
Robert Pruneda
Jagged Tooth Publishing
Texas, USA 2016
DEVIL’S NIGHTMARE: PREMONITIONS
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media and incidents are either products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental and unintentional.
Copyright © 2016 by Jagged Tooth Publishing
Previously self-published by Robert Pruneda as Devil’s Nightmare: Premonitions, 2014
All rights reserved, including the right of reproduction in whole or in part in any form. Inquiries about additional permissions should be directed to: [email protected]
Cover design by Laura Hidalgo
Edited by Carolyn Ridder Aspenson
Proofread by Bill Campbell
Published by Jagged Tooth Publishing
TABLE OF CONTENTS
Prologue
Chapter One - Welcome to Lost Maples
Chapter Two - Floaters
Chapter Three - Chimera
Chapter Four - Treasure Hunting
Chapter Five - Déjà Vue
Chapter Six - Medical Captivity
Chapter Seven - Welcome to Walls Unit
Chapter Eight - Inferno
Chapter Nine - Locker 217
Chapter Ten - Bobbing for Kernals
Chapter Eleven - The Dragon Tattoo
Chapter Twelve - Under Lock and Key
Chapter Thirteen - Enough
Chapter Fourteen - Reunion
Chapter Fifteen - I Am…Redemption
Chapter Sixteen - Redeemed
Chapter Seventeen - Absence
Chapter Eighteen - Is. 13:16
Chapter Nineteen - Intimidation
Chapter Twenty - Rumors
Chapter Twenty-One - Cold as Ice
Chapter Twenty-Two - Zero Tolerance
Chapter Twenty-Three - Evasion
Chapter Twenty-Four - Shallow Grave
Chapter Twenty-Five - Confessions
Chapter Twenty-Six - Witness
Chapter Twenty-Seven - Phantom Fingers
Chapter Twenty-Eight - Ikiryō
Chapter Twenty-Nine - Lucky
Chapter Thirty - The Truth Shall Set You Free
Chapter Thirty-One - Homecoming
Chapter Thirty-Two - Encounters
Chapter Thirty-Three - Insane Assumptions
Chapter Thirty-Four - Disappearance
Chapter Thirty-Five - Breaking Point
Chapter Thirty-Six – Final Breath
Epilogue
A Note From The Author
Join The Author’s Mailing List
Acknowledgements
Discover Other Fiction Written By Robert Pruneda
About The Author
Connect With Robert Pruneda
To my readers.
For taking this journey with me.
PROLOGUE
“Over here!” Dylan Welch yelled to his friends Jeremy Craiger and Chris Marwick. He pushed away a pile of burnt rubble with a shovel, revealing a metal trap door. “I found it!”
The teenagers ran towards him, each with small spades in their hands.
“Can you open it?” Jeremy asked.
Dylan grabbed the handle and pulled, but the door wouldn’t budge. “No, man, it’s stuck, but maybe we can pry it open together.”
Each of the boys positioned the edges of their spades into the slits surrounding the ingress and pushed. After the blades dug in about an inch or two, they forced their collective strength down on the handles. At first it wouldn’t budge, but after several tries, it finally creaked in protest and jolted upwards, knocking all three boys back on their rear ends in the process.
“Oh, man! What’s that smell?” Jeremy held his hand over his nose.
“Smells like something died in there.”
“Hey,” Dylan said, nudging Jeremy. “Why don’t you go down there and find out? Maybe it’s one of those kids, still rotting, with worms and bugs crawling all over his body.”
“Yeah, right. Whatever.”
“You chicken?”
“No.”
“Then go.” Dylan lifted the door with his foot and kicked it open. The strong, putrid stench made him wince, but it didn’t stop him from grabbing Jeremy by the shoulders and giving him a playful shove towards the hole.
“Cut the crap, guys,” Chris said. “Probably just a dead rat or something. We gonna do this or what?”
“You really think it’s down there?” Jeremy asked. “I mean, come on, man. Don’t you think the police would have found it?”
Chris glowered at his friend, and pulled a necklace from underneath his shirt. It had an antique key hanging from it. “Yeah, well, they didn’t have this.”
A reverse pentagram formed a pentacle inside the key’s round head. Chris slipped the key back underneath his shirt and pulled a small flashlight out of his pocket. He turned it on and aimed the small beam into the darkness below. “I don’t see a ladder, but maybe we can just hop inside.” He sat on the edge of the opening and dropped into the room.
On his hands and knees, Dylan peered over the opening. “See anything?”
Jeremy mimicked Dylan’s position. “Any dead bodies down there?”
“Very funny.” Chris scanned the room with the flashlight, his shirt pulled over his mouth and nose. Something on the floor got his attention. He grinned, picked up the corpse of a possum, and tossed it at his friends. “Catch!”
The stiff possum bounced off Dylan’s shoulder and landed on Jeremy’s hand. They both screamed and fell backwards, triggering laughter from inside the room below.
“You jerk!”
“Asshole!”
Two maggots crawled out of the possum’s snout, causing Jeremy to double over and regurgitate his dinner.
Chris laughed harder. “You wimps sounded like a couple of screaming little girls up there.”
“Screw you, Chris!” Dylan yelled. “Just find that stupid safe so we can get out of here. This place gives me the creeps.”
“Well, if you two losers would come down and help, it’d be a lot easier.”
The rumble of thunder echoed low in the distance as a gust of wind blew across the charred ruins of the building. The air cooled, and raindrops sprinkled from the sky. Lightning spread like a web of crooked fingers in the heavens, and illuminated the darkening, late afternoon sky.
“Is that rain?” Chris asked.
“Yeah, a little,” Jeremy said. “Maybe we should come back later.”
In a desperate attempt to find what he came for, Chris swayed his flashlight around the room, but all he found was a few dusty pieces of furniture and some books scattered across the floor. Then a large crack in the southern wall caught his attention. “Hey, I think I found something.” As he investigated, thunder clapped, and both of his friends screamed violently.
Chris glanced up at the trap door opening. “Oh, cut that out. It’s just…” He stopped when Dylan appeared over the entry and reached downward, a deep gash on his face.
Terror filled Dylan’s eyes. “Help me,” he pleaded.
Chris dropped his flashlight and stretched out his arm. Dylan screamed, his eyes rolling back. Chris used both hands and pulled Dylan’s hand hard, but something stronger yanked Dylan back the other direction. Chris pulled even harder, but it was no use. Whatever worked against him was too strong. He fell backwards onto the floor, his friend’s hand
still in his. Dylan landed at his feet with a thump and the screaming stopped.
“Dylan? You okay?” Chris’s voice was shaky. His hand searched the ground for his flashlight. When he found it, he shined it toward Dylan. He stumbled backwards and gasped at the sight of his friend’s torso lying in an oozing pool of blood.
A guttural growl from above enveloped his body in fear. Whatever had done that to Dylan was still up there. With his heart pounding and tears dripping from his eyes, Chris backed himself into the corner of the small basement and listened to those horrible growls for what felt like hours. When ripping flesh and crunching bones replaced the growling, he cowered further into the corner, struggling to stop the whimpering from escaping with each breath. It was almost impossible as he listened to the beast above devour what must have been his other friend, Jeremy.
The feeding was quick, stopping within a few short minutes. Rain flowed into the basement and, though the thunder was faint, the shower continued for another hour, flooding the room with four inches of bloodied water.
Chris stayed hidden in the corner, his shoes, pants and the lower part of his shirt soaked from the rising mixture. He remained still, except for the shivering, for several hours, until he’d finally built up the courage to move towards the opening. He worked to hoist himself to freedom, but slipped every time he tried. His flashlight battery had long since died and his eyes needed to adjust to the dark. He grasped at the table and, though it wobbled, it supported his weight enough for him to pull himself up. Mid-pull, he stopped. There, near him, sat the decapitated and dismembered carnage of a mangled torso with exposed ribs.
Chris vomited.
His body chilled at the familiar growl behind him. Without hesitation, he grabbed the edge of the trap door and pulled it shut, dropping backwards toward the basement floor. He crashed through the table and landed on Dylan’s partial corpse.
The door rattled and shook as the creature pounded, clawed, and roared with a mixture of a high-pitched bray. Chris screamed as the trap door crashed into the flooded basement. Fire shot inside the basement and engulfed the small room in flames. Chris cried out in agony as the flames scorched his body. He rolled in the shallow water in a failed attempt to douse the flames, but the chimera kept exhaling its dragon fire until the screaming finally stopped.
CHAPTER ONE
Welcome to Lost Maples
Cody opened his eyes and squinted out the passenger side window of the U-Haul truck Aaron drove down the highway. They passed a sign indicating they were ten miles from Lost Maples, a small rural town on the southwestern edge of the Texas hill country. They’d just entered the San Marcos city limits when he’d dozed off.
“How long have I been out?” Cody asked, rubbing sleepy goo from his eyes.
“A couple of hours,” Aaron said, and squeezed Cody’s shoulder. “I was just about to wake you. We’re here.”
“Really?” Cody said. “I thought it was closer to town.”
“Nope. And that’s the way I like it.” Aaron flipped the turn signal up. “Even from out here, it’ll be less of a commute to school and work than it was in Austin. Plus, we’ll have peace and quiet out here. And you’ll actually be able to see the stars at night for a change.”
Cody jerked his head up. “All I see is a mailbox and a bunch of trees.”
“Patience, kiddo.” Aaron turned the moving truck onto a narrow gravel road surrounded by a canopy of trees. “Cool, huh? You’ll see the house as soon as we get around this bend.”
Maria followed behind the moving truck, and its attached trailer, which carried Aaron’s old Corvette. Her daughter Samantha sat in the passenger seat of the silver Mercedes, taking video with her phone. She smiled as she took in the landscape. The trees created a natural tunnel, with beams of sunlight streaking through gaps in the greenery.
“This is pretty,” Samantha said. “Maybe living in the country won’t be so bad after all.”
“Even though the closest mall is ninety miles away?”
“What?” Samantha’s excitement disappeared from her face. “No mall?”
Maria laughed. “No, dear, just a Walmart and a few small shops.”
“Seriously?” Samantha’s mouth dropped. “You’re kidding me, right?”
“No, but look.” Maria pointed as the vehicles emerged out from under the canopy of trees. “This is our new home.”
The cottage-style house with yellow aluminum siding rested on twenty acres of land surrounded by dense forest and large overgrown fields. Aaron backed the U-Haul truck and trailer next to a detached two-car garage that had the same yellow aluminum siding as the house. It was one detail Maria wanted to change. She hated the color.
Maria parked her car alongside a stone pathway that led up to a wide set of red brick steps. The wrap-around porch had white pillars and railings, along with a wooden lounge swing that hung next to the front entrance. The landscape around the home included shrubs which hid the lattice that served to cover the crawlspace. A large oak tree stood in the front yard with a flower garden surrounding it. A small pond, still stocked with coy fish, completed the picturesque yard.
“As long as we have broadband so I can Skype my friends in Austin, I’m happy,” Samantha said as she stepped out of the car. She pointed to an overgrown patch of land near the house. It had a weathered wooden picket fence around it. “What’s that over there?”
Maria followed the path of her daughter’s pointing finger. “Oh, that’s our vegetable garden. At least it will be, once we get all those weeds out and do some tilling.” She popped open the trunk of the car.
“Great. Just how I wanted to end my summer vacation,” Samantha complained. “Pulling weeds from a dead garden. We do have a grocery store, right?”
Maria laughed. “Yes, of course we do. But it’ll be fun growing our own vegetables. You’ll enjoy it.”
“Yeah, okay.” Samantha twisted one side of her mouth upward. “We’ll see about that.”
†
“Hey, check this out,” Cody said while rummaging through piles of junk in the storage shed behind the garage. He showed Aaron a steel axe with a long black leather-wrapped shaft and a handle ending in a rounded pommel. The axe had a steel spike and half-moon blade with three crosses cut into it. It also had a faded shield crest engraved on the shoulder. “You think it’s real?”
Aaron took the axe from Cody and examined it. He found no identifiable stainless steel stamps or an indication of Chinese manufacturing. The weapon was heavy and solid. “I don’t know. It could be a replica, but it sure does look authentic. It’s a solid piece of metal, too.” Aaron pointed at the edge of the blade. “Look at the imperfections here. Seems like hammered steel. I could be wrong, but I would think a replica would have a more consistent edge.”
“Cool.” Cody’s eyes lit up. “So, it might be a real artifact?”
“Maybe.” Aaron carefully ran his thumb over the edge of the blade. “Still pretty damn sharp, too. Real or not, I think we’ve found something to hang over the mantle.”
“I don’t know.” Cody grinned. “It might clash with that old Remington rifle of yours.”
“Yeah, you’re right.” Aaron set the axe on a pile of boxes. “Maria wouldn’t let me hang something like this in the house anyway. Better keep it in here for now.”
“Or sell it on eBay,” Cody suggested. “I get half, since I found it.”
Aaron laughed. “You’ll get nothing and like it.”
“Whatever.” Cody gave Aaron a playful shove and continued rummaging through the boxes. “Hey, there’s more cool stuff in here.”
They found a mace, two flails, another smaller axe, a broken crossbow, and several bolts. Every weapon appeared old and weathered, except for the bolts, which had modern proof stamps on them. Everything, except for the crossbow, was in good condition.
Cody held a heavy flail with both hands, the metal ball swinging from the chain with every movement he made. “Why would the owners leave all this stuff behi
nd?”
“Hey, careful with that.” Aaron took the flail from him and set it back in the crate. “These aren’t toys.”
“I know that.” Cody reached inside the crate and pulled out the crossbow. “You think we could fix this? It’d be cool to shoot.”
“I think it’s about time for you to go back inside and finish unpacking.” Aaron confiscated the crossbow and nodded towards the house. “This would be a pretty cool toy to play with, though,” he said to himself.
“It’s not a toy, Aaron!” Cody yelled from the front yard.
Aaron grinned, shaking his head, and returned the crossbow to the crate.
†
“Well, don’t you look handsome in that uniform!” Maria stepped behind her husband and wrapped her arms around him. “Lieutenant Sanders.”
Aaron fastened his utility belt and kissed his wife over his shoulder. “God, it’s been years since I’ve had to wear one of these. I feel like a rookie traffic cop in this getup.”
“I think you look hot with all that equipment on you.” Maria slapped Aaron’s butt and stepped around to face him. She then locked her hands behind his neck and gave him a provocative smile.
“Easy now, lady.” Aaron laughed. “Don’t make me pull out the pepper spray.”
“Mom, are we—” Samantha came into the bedroom and giggled. “Isn’t it a little early for that?”
Maria’s eyes widened and her jaw dropped. “Samantha!”
Aaron laughed and stepped away.
“Sorry. Um… Anyway, who’s taking us to school? You or Aaron?”
“I am,” Maria said.
“Oh, thank God.”
“Hey!” Aaron lowered his brow. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“The last thing I want to do is show up in a cop car on the first day of school.”
“You don’t think having a cop chauffeur you to school would make you look cool?”
Samantha rolled her eyes at Aaron. “Um… no.”
Devil's Nightmare: Premonitions (Devil's Nightmare, Book 2) Page 1