Black Eyed Children (Black Eyed Children Series Book 1)

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Black Eyed Children (Black Eyed Children Series Book 1) Page 1

by Sara Clancy




  Black Eyed Children

  Written by Sara Clancy

  Edited by Emma Salam

  Copyright © 2017 by ScareStreet.com

  All rights reserved.

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  Welcome,

  Sara Clancy

  Table of Contents

  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

  FREE Bonus Novel!

  Chapter 1

  Ruby’s father often said that the soul of a man shows in his eyes. She always hoped that wasn’t true, because if it were, she lived in a world of monsters. Everywhere she turned, all she saw were glossy eyes, pretty like spun glass but emotionless. Lifeless. Just like all the other features that made up their faces. Everything was there, arranged just how they should be, and while some were pleasing to look at, they were all ultimately soulless. Like porcelain dolls. The world was full of them. Life-size dolls that moved, talked, and stared at her with empty eyes.

  It had been a relief to find the train carriage relatively empty when she had boarded. And while a few locals had come and gone with the different stops, the numbers had remained relatively low. Curled up on her seat, she had pulled her beanie down and her thick scarf up, hiding under the excess fabric and trying to ignore the dolls as they passed. Most seemed content to leave her be. A strange teenager with social issues wasn’t of much concern when they were hurriedly trying to fit in the last social calls of the season. Tourism ruled these parts. The whole economy was driven by what they earned in the brief summer and the few gentle first snowfalls. If they didn’t make their money then, they didn’t get another chance until the snow melted again. It made catching up with friends and family in other towns a juggling act.

  By now, the changing leaves had fallen and were quickly disappearing under layers of snow. The days were getting shorter, nights colder, and it was now a winter wonderland that would soon grow harsh and unforgiving. Those who would remain were preparing to close up shop and bunker down as soon as the last tourists left. Everyone would leave their small towns and head south to escape the bitter wrath of the winter.

  Ruby was going north.

  For three days, she had managed to escape most people’s notice. And those who did spare her a second glance hadn’t tried to start up a conversation or invite her to join their games to pass the time. She had perfected her ‘leave me alone’ vibe. Shoulder pressed against the ever-cooling window, face hidden but attention obviously on the world outside or the book in her lap, and her feet curled up on the seat next to her, her chubby limbs and bags taking up as much space on the ripped vinyl as possible. Her best defense had always been staying as still and quiet as possible. Kind of like a possum playing dead.

  Don’t talk. Don’t move. Never make eye contact. She had repeated the commands in her head since childhood and, more often than not, they had turned out to be sound advice. Sometimes, she wasn’t so lucky.

  Like right now.

  When the woman had gotten on last night, she had looked around the near-empty carriage and decided that she just had to sit on the seat across the aisle from Ruby. It’s polite to keep some distance if possible, Ruby had longed to mention. Like in cinemas or bathrooms. But she hadn’t been able to get the words out, and the woman hadn’t taken the hint. Since then, every so often, the woman would sneak glances at Ruby. Or stare. It was hard for her to tell when she could only see the woman from the corner of her eye. But Ruby could feel her watching. With dull, lifeless eyes that were the color of frosted ice. Each time she noticed the emotionless face turning in her direction, Ruby would purposefully fix her gaze outside the window. Or use her book as a shield. It didn’t help. At some points, it just made it worse. Not being able to see the living doll made it easier for her brain to convince her that it had moved closer.

  She, Ruby would chastise herself instantly. Not a doll. A person. She.

  Logically, she knew it was her own fault. Or, more precisely, the fault of her malfunctioning brain. But no matter how many times Ruby reminded herself that the person across from her was living and breathing, and probably very pleasant, it didn’t change the fact that she just didn’t seem human. Not completely.

  Finally, the days and hours drained away, and Ruby’s final stop was in sight. She sank deeper into her seat as the train ambled along the track, slowing to an excruciating crawl. The closer they got, the louder the conversations around her became. Dozens of them at once, the words overlapping as the tones rose and fell. She could hear the shifts, but they all meant nothing to her. From the very edge of her vision, she saw the woman had turned to face her again. The features of her face created peaks and valleys under her tanned skin. Her eyes, flat and dull, stared at Ruby. The glare only breaking when with the woman blinked. Suppressing a shudder, Ruby turned her full attention to the window.

  Don’t talk. Don’t move. Never make eye contact.

  They had left the barren stone and snow drenched slopes behind that morning and had continued down into a valley. Nestled within the belly of the mountain range and protected on all sides, the valley had managed to clutch onto the last traces of autumn. The rise in temperature had hit her first. Although the air still seemed like ice, it had somehow discovered how to change into a gas. There was considerably less snow. The thin layer that was still there melted in the sunlight, withering into slush or seeping into the earth and creating large puddles of mud. Only tiny patches of sleet managed to cling to the forest of evergreens, but the other plants testified to the change of seasons. Leaves of crimson and orange speckled across the thick wall of trees while bare branches clawed out of the foliage like dead grasping hands.

  The lazy arch of the sun was another sign of the changing seasons. This far north, the sun never truly set during the summer and barely rose throughout the winter months. It was strange to see it already so low even though she had prepared for the sight. Her new employers had warned her repeatedly about the short days in their emails. It had come up so many times that Ruby was convinced that the hours of prolonged darkness had been a problem for those who had held the position before her. They had also mentioned, at length, that the sense of isolation could be a much larger problem. After reading about how she would be alone for what felt like the hundredth time, it had been a struggle not to reply that the promised isolation was what had attracted her in the first place. For the first time in her life, she was free to seek an escape from other people. From all the stress and pressure of being forced to interact with the endless array of pseudo-humans. But, since it was all too hard to explain over emails, she had kept that to herself.

  The train gave a final jolt, jarring her from her thoughts. As she came back to herself, she saw that there was still nothing but untouched wilderness on her side of the train. Did we have to stop for another freight train? she wondered. The freights had the right of way on these t
racks. And since they were often fifty to a hundred carriages long, it always took a while for them to pass. She had just settled in to wait when she noticed that the people around her were getting up. Blinking in surprise, she looked across the train to see that they had, in fact, arrived.

  The further they travelled from any major city, the smaller the train stations had become. For the last few stops, the stations tended to be small and easily missed. This one wasn’t an exception to the rule. It seemed that the entire building could be seen from where she sat, each end fitting neatly within the line of windows that ran the length of the carriage. With a new coat of honey-lemon paint and the sun glistening off of the paneled windows, the building did have a certain cozy feel. But the attempt at care and presentation couldn’t hide the battering harsh weather that time had given it. Under the cheerful paint, the wood was chipped and warped. And as she stood, she could see the thin cracks that were working their way through the slab of concrete that served as the platform.

  Since she wasn’t that tall, Ruby didn’t have to worry about bumping into the overhead storage as she stretched out her spine. Her legs throbbed as blood flowed back into them. Leaning against the window, the chill quickly worked through the layers of her clothes, she rolled each of her ankles in an attempt to speed up the process. Unfortunately, a storm of pins and needles followed the throb. In her little corner, she shook her legs and waited for the limited crowd to leave. The woman across the aisle stood up, the movement drawing Ruby’s gaze. Before she could realize her mistake, Ruby had made eye contact.

  Don’t talk. Don’t move. Her mantra didn’t help her this time and she couldn’t resist. It didn’t matter that she quickly snapped her eyes back down to the floor or that she did her best impersonation of a statue. She had the woman’s attention. Feet shuffled across the thin carpet and crept into her field of vision. The woman was barely a foot away, staring at her, waiting for Ruby to acknowledge her presence. Don’t move. Don’t look.

  “Are you okay?”

  Ruby kept her eyes on the floor as she nodded. For the last three days, the only person she had been forced to talk to was the person manning the dining cart. And even then she had managed to get away with mostly pointing. No shower. No real privacy. No fresh air or decent food, and still these few days had been the most relaxing of her life. She had known that the peace wouldn’t last. But she hadn’t been prepared to be thrown back into it this quickly.

  Swallowing thickly, she glanced at the woman. The hope that her nod would have been the end of it crumbled away as the woman cocked her head to the side. What did I do wrong? How wasn’t that a decent answer? What does she want from me? Before she could spiral down into her thoughts, Ruby forced a smile and thanked the woman for her concern. She used the tone people liked the most. Happy and carefree, and oh so sweet. It was a tone she could maintain even as her gut twisted up with dread. The woman bared her teeth; her brightly painted lips peeling back as her cheeks stretched. Her dull eyes didn’t move off of Ruby’s face. And she was still standing at the end of Ruby’s row of seats. The small crowd was dwindling fast, and the woman continued to block Ruby’s only exit.

  With a twist of panic, Ruby quickly took stock of her surroundings. Most of everyone had left, and the few who remained were moving swiftly to the doors without the slightest glance in her direction. The glass felt like a sheet of ice as she pushed herself back against it. Should have left first. Stupid girl. Don’t panic. Don’t talk. Just breathe. Each of her knuckles pressed against her skin as she subconsciously balled her fists. The pins and needles had subsided, leaving her legs feeling at least stable, if not secure. Her cheeks hurt as she forced her smile to stay in place, and her heartbeat began to pick up. It’s okay, Ruby tried to convince herself. This is a public place. She’s not going to do anything. The words rang hollow even to herself, beaten down by a flood of memories to the contrary. While her father’s favorite saying might not have carried any weight, her mother’s had been proven time and again. Some people are born with a bull’s eye on their foreheads that they can never rub off. The words repeated in her head. It was a small comfort to at least be aware that she was one of them.

  It seemed like each muscle in her body contracted at once as the woman peeled her lips back further, flashing the spikes of white that emerged from her ruddy strips of her gums. The skin of the woman’s face twisted and bunched and Ruby watched the whole display with that fake smile fixed into place. It took all the concentration she had not to slump with relief when the woman collected her bags and scattered off to the side, leaving Ruby with a slight wave and a farewell. When the woman was gone, she gave into the urge and sagged against the closest seat.

  The train was empty now. Without the clatter of footsteps against metal and the flutter of words, the carriage was cast into a heavy silence. Distantly, she could still hear the people on the platform and the hiss of the train as it settled, but all of it seemed to prove the silence around her instead of breaking it. Closing her eyes, she took in a few steadying breaths. Just a little longer. You’re almost there, she told herself. Maybe a few more hours at most and she’d be all alone. With only the woodland creatures and a few dogs for company. The image that appeared within her mind was enough to slow her heartbeat. The train jolted, and she stumbled slightly. Worried that the train might be preparing to go, she snatched up her bag and winter coat and jogged to the door.

  The platform had obviously been built to accommodate a different style of train, one that was supposedly lower and wider, and the discrepancy left a gap just large enough to be awkward. She staggered upon landing and threw her weight forward to keep from tipping back over the rim of the platform. An extra bit of embarrassment came with the maneuver as she bit back a curse. She knew it was going to be cold, but the train’s heating had shielded her from the worst of it. The second she left it behind, an arctic chill rose up to surround her. Shivering and bopping on her feet to keep some warmth, Ruby dropped her bag long enough to shove her arms into her jacket. Already, the cold had gathered against the inner material and it took a while for her body heat to fend it off.

  Rubbing her bare hands together, she looked around, trying to figure out where she was supposed to go next. Apparently, the building served a dual purpose, train station and grocery store. She hadn’t anticipated that. Or the number of people that would be milling around. While it was nowhere near the size of the crowds she had fled the city to escape, it was far more than she had intended to search through to find her new employers. So she stood there, shivering and bouncing, the hissing train pushing puffs of warm air against her back, and waited for the crowd to thin.

  “Ruby Dawson?”

  She jumped at the question and turned to see a couple edging closer to her. A man and woman. The lines on their faces spoke of age and outdoor work, while the bright colors of their thick clothes hinted at a flare for the dramatic as much as they did a taste for the practical. The man’s hair was far darker and longer than his wife’s was, but they were both starting to gray.

  “Mr. and Mrs. Cobalt?”

  The man flashed his teeth and Ruby braced her feet.

  “Mr. and Mrs. Cobalt? How official.”

  Ruby blinked at him but said nothing.

  She watched as the couple exchanged a glance. The man leaned forward and whispered, “I’m just joking with you.”

  “Oh,” Ruby said before smiling brightly and forcing a laugh.

  Again, the pair before her looked at each other. Wrong move, she thought as she snatched up the strap of her bag and tightened her hands around it. They’re still showing their teeth. Is that a good sign? Smile or sneer? Shaking her head to stop the drizzle of thoughts from becoming a rampaging storm, she forced an apologetic smile and shrugged.

  “I did mention in my last email that I have a form of social-emotional agnosia. Did you get that one?”

  “I did,” the man said, the two words coming out at a slightly slower pace than the others before them.
The shift didn’t last as he continued. “And I had full intentions of looking that up, but the only place that has the internet around here is the library and I’m kind of dodging the staff at the moment. There was an incident with one of their books and a cup of coffee.”

  His wife swatted his arm. “You’re a grown man. Take the book back.”

  “I will. I have a plan. I’m going to drop it off before their opening hours on the day we leave.” Before Mrs. Cobalt could give a response, he turned his attention back to Ruby and flashed his teeth again. “So, what exactly does that mean?”

  “I can’t read body language,” she swallowed thickly, giving them time to respond before adding. “Facial and verbal cues are lost on me, too.”

  Mrs. Cobalt leaned forward slightly. Ruby’s fingers clutched at her bag strap.

  “I’m sorry. What does that mean exactly?”

  This was a conversation Ruby had faced a thousand times before. And still, she was unable to find a decent way of explaining it. Or, at the very least, one that didn’t lead down a path of far more questions than she had answers.

  “I can’t tell when people are joking. Or any emotion really.”

  “You don’t feel emotion?” Mr. Cobalt said.

  “No, I do. Just as well as anyone else. I just can’t see the cues to tell me what other people are thinking and feeling. If you want me to know, you’ll have to tell me directly, or I won’t get it.”

  “So, you can’t see when people smile?” Mrs. Cobalt asked.

  “I see it. The muscle movement. But my brain can’t apply any meaning to it.”

  “Well, when people smile then they’re happy, dear.”

  Ruby blinked at the woman. It was a familiar statement, one that always seemed to pop up in some form or another during these conversations, and while she couldn’t stop the response from popping into her head, she had learnt to keep it from tumbling out of her mouth. Gee, thank you for that. This piece of information completely fixes the broken synapses in my brain. I wish it hadn’t taken seventeen years for someone to tell me. Clearing her throat, she smiled slightly.

 

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