by J. Thorn
He walked toward the sink and splashed his face with water. The pungent stench of chlorine invaded his mouth, and Samuel remembered the inmates telling him to never drink the water from the sink inside the cell. Samuel laughed at that advice and its absurdity in his current situation. He looked at the calendar and the mangled photo tucked under the corner. It would not matter for Samuel. He would never see his family again.
He punched the wall and felt the skin on his knuckles pull back until the warm blood flowed over them. Samuel punched the cinder block again until the bones in his hand succumbed to the power of the cement.
The lights in the corridor buzzed. Samuel looked up to see the overhead fluorescent bulbs wink and extinguish as the electricity retreated from the wires. Several wire-encased sconces flickered to life where they were mounted between cells. The curfew buzzer sounded, followed by a sighing symphony of incarcerated souls. Samuel did not feel tired, but then again, he lost track of day and night long ago. He slept when the lights went out and woke when they came back to life.
Samuel waited for his eyes to adjust, staring at the battered photograph. He kissed two fingers on his right hand and touched them to Kim’s face. Samuel would give anything to be standing in that frame, his hand on her back as they smiled at the optimistic future awaiting them. He sat on the edge of the bunk and put his face in his hands.
There could be an appeal.
He swore at himself as soon as the thought appeared. His attorney had taken him through those permutations, and an appeal was as likely as the guard opening the door and setting him free.
Then stop stalling and get to it, you fucking coward.
Samuel stood and nodded his head, shaking the last bit of doubt from it. He took the end of the sheet containing the slippers and balled it in his right hand. Samuel stepped back and lobbed the sheet toward the duct. The first two tries bounced off the wall and fell back to him. The third toss landed on top before sliding across it and out the other side. Samuel stopped, hoping the guards would not have heard it strike the duct.
It’ll never hold you.
He cursed the voice trying to keep him from ending the pain once and for all.
“Got steel straps tied into the block to reinforce the duct. It’ll hold.”
He winced at the sound of his voice. It sounded foreign to his ears.
Samuel pulled the loose end until the knot held between the top of the heating duct and the wall. He clutched the sheet with both hands and pulled his feet off the floor. Samuel dangled a few inches in the air, neither the sheet nor the duct giving any indication they would not be able to finish the job.
He climbed on the bunk and stood on the edge of it. Samuel took the loose end and tied it around his neck several times, taking all of the slack from the fabric. He reached up and tied a knot behind his head. Sweat poured from his skin, causing a shiver in the cold chill of the cell. Samuel’s mouth went dry, and his palms became moist. He slid the triskele out of the waistband of his underwear and held it in his right hand. Samuel did not pray. He did not ask forgiveness from the all-powerful forces of the universe. If the talisman did not serve him as he crossed over, nothing would.
His bare toes extended over the edge of the bunk that sat two feet from the floor. Samuel looked up again to verify the knot held at the top before reaching around to check his noose held firm. He took shallow, rapid breaths, trying to exhale the last remnants of hesitation.
When Samuel stepped off the bed, the last things he smelled was the distant aroma of moldy bark.
***
Samuel pushed the twisted sheet from his shoulder and let the makeshift noose coil on the ground like a dead snake. He looked up at the decaying branch, shook his head, his eyes darting about the empty forest as his heart raced in his chest.
He drew a breath, exhaling slowly and wincing at the pain in his throat as his lungs tried to pull in more oxygen. He smiled from the joy of being alive until the memory of his prison cell wiped it from his face. Like a leaf at the mercy of the wind, the image of the bars floated from Samuel’s reach. Worry rushed back in to fill his mind as he struggled to find a connection, a reason for being here.
He noticed the sun dropped closer to the horizon as if touching the tops of the trees to ignite them. Darkness crept closer, surrounding the far edges of his vision. He closed his eyes and felt forgiveness in his heart. He could not recall her name or remember why she had granted him absolution.
To be continued...
Click here: http://jthorn.net/optin/pa1.htm
Acknowledgements
The beta readers for this project, SB Knight, Ren Warom, Peter S. Scott, and Adam Phillips provided invaluable feedback and helped to mold the story into what it has become. I would like to thank my fellow authors that have supported my endeavors over the past year, including Scott Nicholson, Vicki Kiere, Jack Albrecht, Dana Martin, Pat Mason, George Sirois, Virna DePaul, Tammie Clark Gibbs, Tim and Claire Ridgway, Taylor Lee, Carolyn McCray, and everyone else I am forgetting at the Indie Book Collective. Talia Leduc brought her magic red pen to this novel and her suggestions were exactly what I needed. In addition, I am eternally grateful to a host of faithful readers, reviewers, and bloggers, such as Elizabeth Buttle, Bryden Yeo, Bernadette Davies, Stefan Yates, Carol Scott, Cole Dowden, Regina (from Goodreads), and Katy Sozaeva.
Thank you for taking this journey with me. If you enjoyed the book please leave a review on Amazon. It can be brief and written in a few minutes. Authors depend on reviews from readers like you.
Get The Complete Portal Arcane Trilogy: 3 Novels and 4 Shorts of Intense Dark Fantasy (PLUS Book I of the Hidden Evil Trilogy) for a special low price! Browse the entire J. Thorn catalog at http://jthorn.net/books/.
Praise for the Portal Arcane Series...
"This is a great start for what promises to be an engaging, intense series."
Scott Nicholson, Author of the #1 Amazon Best Selling Horror Novel, The Home
"It's all about the journey, about the creeping horror of individual moments, the long wait, the brief moments of terror, and then more waiting. It was... a fascinating read, and I will definitely be interested in following this series.."
K. Sozaeva, Amazon Vine Voice, Top 500 Reviewer
Reversion: The Inevitable Horror (The Portal Arcane Series - Book I)
With a noose around his neck, Samuel arrives in a forest littered with caution tape and artifacts of the deceased. He struggles to regain his memory while fending off a pack of wolves and the mysterious visitors who seem to know more about this dying world than he does. Major, Kole and Mara, new companions also trapped in this strange place, realize they must outrun the ominous cloud eating away at their world before it collapses upon itself. Samuel must find a way to escape the reversion.
The Law of Three: A New Wasteland (The Portal Arcane Series - Book II)
The reversion plucks Samuel from a dying world and drops him into another, a decaying desert wasteland of darkness and peril. As his memories return, he finds himself in another cycle of destruction. With newcomers Jack and Lindsay, Samuel leads the group towards redemption in the mountain stronghold of a mysterious man known as Deva. Finally, as the locality collapses behind him, Samuel realizes his only escape from the reversion will be putting his faith in The Law of Three.
Corrosion: Terminal Horizon (The Portal Arcane Series - Book III)
Samuel and Lindsay arrive on the shores of another reversion and quickly realize their journey is not over. They pass through a portal, slipping into a rotting and decayed city inhabited by an army of the undead and their maleficent leader, his brother Kole. While trying desperately to beat the cloud to the east, Samuel must also face his brother and the inevitable confrontation at the end of the world. Only one will survive the Corrosion.
Other works from J. Thorn
Browse the entire J. Thorn catalog at http://jthorn.net/books/.
About the Author
Healed by the written word
&nbs
p; Want a story that's rooted in a fundamental aspect of being human?
I believe reading dark fiction can be healing. My overriding mission is to connect with you through my art, and I hope to inspire you to do the same. I’m a word architect and driven visionary. I’m obsessed with heavy metal, horror films and technology. And I admire strong people who are not afraid to speak their mind.
I grew up in an Irish Catholic, working class family and was the first to go to college. I didn't have expensive toys, so I used my own imagination for entertainment. And then I abused alcohol for entertainment. I spent the first thirty years of my life convincing myself I wasn’t an addict and the last ten worrying about all the potential threats the substances hid from me.
Anxiety and depression are always hiding in the corner, waiting to jump me when I start to feel happiness.
I had to break through family programming and accept the role of the black sheep. In my 30s I started writing horror and formed a heavy metal band while my family rolled their eyes, sighed and waited for the “phase” to end.
I spent years paralyzing myself with self-loathing and criticism, keeping my creativity smothered and hidden from the rest of the world. I worked a job I hated because that’s what Irish Catholic fathers do. They don’t express themselves, they pay the damn mortgage. I may have left my guilt and faith behind long ago, but the scars remain.
My creativity is my release, my therapy and my place to work through it all. I haven't had a drink in a long time, but the anxiety and depression are always lurking. Writing novels and songs keeps it at bay. I scream over anxiety with my microphone and I turn my guitar up loud enough to drown out the whispers of self-doubt.
I hope to leave a legacy of art that will continue to entertain and enrich lives long after I'm gone. I want others to see that you don’t have to conform to the mainstream to be fulfilled.
Don’t be afraid of the dark. Embrace it.
* * *
Official Website
Facebook
Twitter