Dark World (Book I in the Dark World Trilogy)

by Q. Lee, Danielle

  Rory scowled, his blue eyes surveying the scene. “Where are the other girls, Steve?”

  Steve eyed Scarlet nervously, his fingers combing his shaggy blonde hair. “We couldn’t get them to come.”

  “What?!” Rory roared, his face flushed and eyes dark. “We need three!”

  Scarlet took a frightened step back and hugged her shoulders. A lump formed in her throat as she watched things go from bad to worse.

  What is he talking about? Need three for what?

  His friends shrugged and looked at one another with glazed eyes, obviously less concerned than Rory.

  After shifting his gaze to the moon again, Rory announced, “We’d better get started.” His eerie stare fell on Scarlet, darkness pulsating behind his eyes, adding cryptically, “We have no choice, we’ll just have to use one.”

  He knelt down and unzipped his duffel bag, producing what looked like a large, black blanket and an antiquated scroll. A tremble possessed her body and her eyes watered with fresh tears.

  This is it Scarlet, something awful is about to happen.

  The other boys hooted and hollered, retrieving their own piece of dark fabric. Horrified, Scarlet watched with wide eyes as each of them swung the cover over their shoulders, secured it at their necks and finished by raising a cowl over their heads. She drew in a sharp breath when she realized what they really were.

  They’re not blankets…they’re cloaks!

  A fear like she’d never known occupied her soul.

  “Rory,” Scarlet’s voice quivered. “What’s going on?”

  Unresponsive, Rory stood stoic, watching the unveiling festivities with a horrible grin carved upon his face. Scarlet’s body shook while they began arranging something on the forest floor. The moment Steve pulled out a can of black spray and painted a symbol on the ground, the situation became more transparent.

  A pentagram.

  This was some kind of ritual.

  Scarlet wasn’t sure what was going on, but she wasn’t going to hang around to find out. She forced her quivering legs forward and ran for the trees. Hot blood raced from her pounding heart and into her head. Lines of sweat dripped over her brow while she pushed her body as hard as it would go.

  “Get her!” Rory yelled, his voice a mesh of anger and perverse amusement.

  I’m almost to the trees. If I can just get there, I can hide.

  Shelby’s boots were like lead on her feet, hindering her as the chunky heels plodded against the ground. The tree line was so close now, only a few more feet. She could hear them right behind her, jeering and laughing like a pack of jackals. She didn’t dare look back for fear it would slow her down. Scarlet could almost touch the boughs as she neared the edge of the woods. Visions of seeing her family and Shelby flashed through her mind. Her thighs burned and her feet protested with every step, but she wouldn’t let herself stop.

  Almost there!

  As she broke through the wall of branches, a sense of liberation embraced her.

  I did it!

  A new emotion rose rapidly to the surface, overshadowing her elation. Betrayed by her imperfect vision, darkness blurred before her, the trees and shrubs blending into a haze of silhouettes.

  Which way?

  Panic eroded what remained of her nerves, the thudding of footsteps closing in on her. Her heart beat against her chest like a furious gorilla, caged and wild with fear. Sweat beaded and ran from her brow, plummeting like lemming off her chin and splattering against her bare, heaving chest.

  She had to make her move. Now.

  Just move, Scarlet! Move!

  Willing her feet forward, she plunged into the thicket of shadows before her, arms outstretched, feeling her way through the web of branches. Between the sound of leaves crunching beneath her feet and her heartbeat smashing inside her eardrums, she couldn’t determine how close her assailants were. Summoning any courage that may be hiding in the deep crevices of her soul, she began to run. Blind and terrified, she prayed she’d get away. Prayed for a happy ending.

  Her prayers would go unheard, replaced only by screams.

  Halted in mid-stride, a terrific pain seized the back of her head. Scarlet was yanked backwards and her body hit the ground with a resounding thud.

  “Stupid little bitch,” muttered a voice she recognized as Steve’s. He pulled her by the hair like a cave man, dragging her back toward the fire.

  “Let me go! Please!” she shrieked, kicking and thrashing wildly.

  Scarlet could scarcely believe what was happening. It didn’t even feel real. The whole scenario had the makings of a horror movie, only she knew it was real. Terrifyingly real. She stole a fleeting look at Rory, but his back was to her. Scarlet prayed he would come to his senses and whisk her away from this nightmare. Maybe if she cooperated, they would just finish up with their sick little game and she could go home. Not knowing the first thing about cults or rituals, she hoped they wouldn’t hurt her, or worse, kill her.

  “Why are you doing this?” Scarlet’s lip quavered uncontrollably as she was led to the center of the pentagram. Rory had his arm draped over her shoulder, guiding her. Herding the lamb to slaughter.

  With a sinister glow behind his blue eyes, he smiled insincerely. “We need to make a sacrifice under the full moon, to appease our God.”

  In a small voice, Scarlet offered, “Lucifer?”

  The boys laughed at her in unison while they formed a circle, corralling her into the center of the pentagram.

  “No Scarlet, there are far more powerful beings in Hell than Lucifer,” Rory retorted, his voice dripping with condescendence. He then raised his arms and yelled, “We serve Malus, Queen of the Underworld.”

  Scarlet stood in horror while Steve and the other boys began undressing her. The red skirt, Shelby’s boots, and all other articles of her clothing were tossed pitilessly into the raging bonfire. Though it took everything in her not to fight, she realized it would be pointless to even try.

  “Why…why me?” Her body wracked with sobs. “Why did you choose…me?”

  He chuckled and rolled his eyes as if she should know the answer. “Why you? Why not you?” Rory straightened his shoulders and approached her. He grabbed her by the neck, tightening his grip. Breath caught in her windpipe, she glared as he brought his face inches from hers. “You made it easy for me. You’re weak. Pathetic. You had to be cured of your human weakness. I’m giving you a gift.”

  Rory loosened his grip on her throat, then leaned in and pressed his lips to hers. Disgusted, she fought against the human shackles holding her in place. He pulled back, a twisted grin on his handsome face.

  She stared into his eyes, the eyes of insanity, searching for that guy she once admired from a distance. He was nowhere to be found. A demon lived inside him. A monster.

  Scarlet wrenched from his grip, a strangled cry escaping her. He sneered, then sauntered back to the head of the pentagram, giving a nod to his minions.

  Naked and shivering as bitterly cold wind stung her bare skin, they forced to her lie down in the center of the emblem.

  “Are you…going to kill…me?” Hot tears ran down the sides of her face as they bound her wrists and ankles, attached them to tent pegs, and nailed them into the ground.

  Rory bent down, and placing his lips just inches from her ear, whispered, “Don’t worry, there is no death—only transition.”

  It was then that Steve produced a vial of liquid and leaned over her. She pursed her lips tightly together. Undeterred, he grabbed her naked breast and gave it a hard squeeze. Her jaw dropped open to protest but he dumped the liquid into her mouth before she could utter a sound. Upon slamming her chin shut and clamping a hand over her mouth, he pinched her nose and ordered, “Swallow.”

  Her lungs begging for air, she gulped. Bitterness slid past her tongue, then burned all the way down her esophagus. She tried to cough and spit it out, but it had already starting taking affect. A calm sensation permeated her body, sedating her. The world spun. Everyt
hing became hazy and incoherent. She now believed she was dreaming.

  It’s just a nightmare. I’ll wake up soon.

  A monotonous chanting began. She was vaguely aware of Rory and the boys standing in a circle around her, their voices blending like a thunderous song. Scarlet tried to turn her head, but her muscles were non-compliant. She felt so light, like drifting in a dream. The enormous full moon hung overhead. A silver talisman suspended in the black fabric of space, its steely hue sporadically blemished by a drifting charcoal cloud. The stars stared down at her, winking and sparkling as if sending her secret messages.

  “Help me!” she called to them inside the confines of her delusional mind.

  Her disjointed thoughts shifted to her mom, dad and brother. They were probably going to miss her. She wondered how long it would take the police to find her body? What if she was never found? What if she was murdered and Rory and the boys were never brought to justice? Was Shelby going to be angry about her clothes?

  Her mind couldn’t function. Couldn’t focus.

  She gaped at their cloaked faces and wondered if these were the last moments of her life. Inside her paralyzed body, Scarlet’s soul began to struggle. She wanted to live.

  Please no…not like this.

  Rory unrolled the tattered parchment. Amid the blotches of ocher staining the document, the scroll’s golden lettering leaped from the page, glistening by the light of the moon.

  Rory hovered over her, reading from the script, hollering words in some other language. At first, she thought it was some kind of Satanic gibberish, but as she listened closer, she realized she could understand what he was saying.

  “Hera nos Regina of Atrum. Tribuo nos immortalis!“

  Struggling against the pall of the drug, she focused on his voice, translating as he spoke.

  It’s like…Latin, she thought, suddenly grateful for obsessing over the ancient language.

  “Hear us Queen of the Dark, we give you this soul in exchange for power and eternal life. Take this child into your bosom of evil, feast upon her spirit. Grant us immortality!” Rory commanded in the foreign tongue.

  She watched as Rory rolled up the scroll and tucked it into a large pocket on the front of his robe. From the same pouch, he then produced what appeared to be a box cutter.

  Oh god!

  When he crouched beside her, a rush of adrenaline forced her heart to palpitate faster than she thought it was capable. He edged the blade up with his thumb; a clicking sound preceding the appearance of the razor. Scarlet followed the pointed tip as he loomed over her. The horrific thought of him carving out her eyes crossed her mind. He placed the steel tip against her forehead and sliced what felt like another pentagram. The pain was excruciating, but because of the tonic, her body lay frozen in torment. Warm liquid pooled, then trickled in thin streams from the wound, winding past her eyes and into her hair. She almost wanted to die right then. Her will to live was fading like the last light of sunset.

  Please let this be over soon!

  As if her wish had been granted, she witnessed Steve place an object into Rory’s waiting hands. It was a very long—very sharp—knife. Holding the silver dagger over her, Rory paused and held her gaze a moment.

  Maybe he’s having second thoughts…maybe he truly cares for me.

  With anticipation swelling in her heart, she held her breath. But her hopes were dashed when a glint of evil crossed his eyes.

  In one fluid motion, he plunged the steel blade into her chest.

  And the world stopped.

  Dark Butterfly

  As hard as it was to play dead, Scarlet forced the pain aside, sipped shallow breaths, and stayed as still as possible. Even when Rory crouched down and closed her eyelids with his fingertips, she refused to believe this was truly happening.

  “Untie her,” he said, hollow and uncaring.

  Rough hands removed her bindings, leaving her paralyzed body splayed unsympathetically.

  “Okay, we’d better get out of here,” Rory stated.

  She cringed inside her broken body.

  They’re just going to leave me here?

  Like someone had telepathically received her cry, one of the boys asked, “We’re just gonna leave her here? What if someone finds her? What if they link it back to us?”

  “Maybe we should bury her,” added another.

  “We have to leave her here, in the pentagram. It’s what the ritual says. It’s been done this way for centuries. Don’t worry so much, Malus will protect us,” Rory explained and then added with a frustrated sigh. “Let’s just go, we have to get her car from the theatrer parking lot and dispose of it.”

  They all laughed as they walked away.

  Anger occupied her soul like a demon taking possession. Wrath sidled next to her pain, owning her thoughts and emotions.

  All she wanted to know was why? What could they possibly have gained from this? She wanted to stand up and scream at them, demanding an answer for her premature demise. How could her life be over when it had so recently begun? She’d only gotten seventeen years. She’d wanted marriage. Children. Travel. A life. Now it had been stolen from her. All that remained were the skeletons of hope, a graveyard of buried dreams.

  Her ears perked, Scarlet listened as the sound of dry grass and leaves crunched beneath their feet, then slowly faded away.

  Silence.

  Hot, angry tears flooded from behind her eyes and rolled down her temples. Frozen like a marble statue by the elixir, she was forced to endure her last moments inert. In the dark. Alone.

  The excruciating pain in her chest was nothing compared to the agony of her screaming soul.

  Why? Why me?

  She just wanted to go home, wrap her arms around her mother and father, Shelby, and maybe even Greg. None of this was right, it wasn’t meant to be this way. All the years she’d been robbed of. All the experiences she’d never know. Anger consumed her, leeching her soul of forgiveness.

  If there’s an afterlife and I can come back, I’ll haunt those bastards until the end of time!

  As her lifeblood slowly drained, pooling in the grass beneath her, she realized it was time. All she hoped was that she’d been a good enough person to go to a better place. As her last breath warmed the cool night air with a final cloud of exhalation, Scarlet waited for something that resembled leaving her body and the appearance of the tunnel of light.

  It never came.

  An unfamiliar sensation possessed her. Fear twisted around her soul like a venomous serpent.

  The ground shuddered beneath her, then began to give way.

  Oh God! I’m sinking!

  Her lifeless body began to submerge into the center of the pentagram. Enveloped into the dense, cool earth, Scarlet could only surmise that the ground had opened up and was swallowing her whole. Loose soil spilled from above, sealing her into a tomb—a grave.

  Am I dead? I can’t be, I’m still in here.

  Trapped in an undead body, fully aware, yet incapable of movement or escape, she was falling through the cracks of existence and couldn’t do anything about it.

  Is this Hell? Is this what it is?

  Scarlet searched for something—a memory—to soothe her. To take her away from this nightmare. She reached into the recesses of her mind, recalling the first time she observed the stars up close.

  “Daddy,” young Scarlet began, dancing around her father as he set up her new telescope. “Why are the stars so far away?”

  He winced as he cranked a bolt on the side of the contraption. “They’re very hot, honey, if we get too close, we’ll get burned.”

  “Why do they sparkle?” she inquired, scrunching up her nose.

  He replied with a shrug, “I guess that’s just their way of saying hello. Here,” he said, taking his daughter by the hand and showing her how to peer into the eyepiece, “they’re saying hello to you, right now.”

  An ache in her soul jarred her back into reality. Behind her sealed lids, her eyes stung with
tears.

  I would have loved to say good-bye to the stars…and to you, Daddy.

  Somewhere in the midst of the pain and darkness, Scarlet felt her consciousness slip away. Immersed in a nightmare, her psyche locked itself into a room deep within. A childhood prayer echoed through her broken thoughts:

  Now I lay me down to sleep,

  I pray the Lord my soul to keep.

  If I should die before I wake,

  I pray the Lord my soul to take.

  Calm fell over her, blanketing her like a shroud. For a split second, she thought an angel may have heard her prayers and had come to save her. But the withering of her soul told her otherwise. An emptiness gathered within, a black hole owned the space where her essence once dwelt. An eclipse. A shadow of what once was Scarlet.

  Still aware of her surroundings, she could no longer ignore certain sensations—certain hungers. An instinct overwhelmed her, one she could not name, but it presented itself as desire.

  She felt her body change, morphing into a sleek predator of unprecedented strength and prowess. A sharp pain stabbed behind her eyes and a burning filled her lungs as she tried to inhale.

  A flame of hate smoldered beneath the surface of her skin, burrowing itself deep into her soul. Bitterness settled on her heart like thick, dark ash.

  The girl she’d worn beneath this skin fell asleep.

  Dark arms embraced her, pulling her under. Stole her from her world. Her life.

  Sinking.

  Then it stopped.

  She was Scarlet no more.

  A foreign whisper invaded the privacy of her mind. A female voice she would come to know well.

  “Welcome…to Dark World.”

  Part Two

  Dark World

  Dark Evolutions

  In the beginning, there was darkness…then light kissed the earth. A cascade of illumination warmed the surface, encouraging the growth of plants, animals—and humans.