Among the Stars
Page 1
Among the Stars
Tiffany Allen
Copyright 2015 Tiffany Allen
All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.
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Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or used in a fictitious manner. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental.
Table of Contents
Prologue
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
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Epilogue
Note from the author
About the author
Connect with the author
Prologue
-1956-
It’s late as the young man makes his way home. He strolls down the empty streets on his way from a late shift at his job. He’s in his early twenties, short brown hair, and nicely dressed. He’s eager to get home to his family. In his pocket is a pearl necklace that he bought for his wife. Their anniversary is fast approaching and last weekend he caught her admiring it through the Jeweler’s store window. In his other pocket is a tiny satin hair bow with a fabric rose in the center for his daughter.
It’s a cold night but it doesn’t seem to bother him. The moon gleams bright and he stops a moment to appreciate the night sky. Breathing deeply, he takes in the crisp air. Giving the sky one final glance, he continues on his way and soon reaches his home.
It’s dark as he makes his way into the house. No doubt his family is already fast asleep. He takes his time removing his shoes and coat, careful not to drop the gifts nestled in his pockets. He makes his way to his bedroom without lights so he doesn’t disturb his family. Making it to the bedroom, he shuts the door quietly and walks over to his side of the bed.
“I’m home, Sweetie,” he calls softly. He reaches towards his wife but her side of the bed is cold and empty. “Huh?”
He turns on the bedside table and sees that her side is undisturbed. The covers not even turned back. He leaves the bedroom, turning on lights as he goes, thinking that maybe their daughter had another bad dream and that’s where he’ll find his wife. Reaching his daughter’s bedroom, he eases the slightly ajar door completely open.
“Rachelle?” He calls softly in the dark room but there’s no answer. He turns on the light but the room is empty and the bed is still neat and tidy.
“Rachelle?” He calls louder, getting frantic. He runs through the house flipping light switches as he goes. Finally he reaches the kitchen only to turn on the light and freeze in his tracks.
The kitchen floor is covered in blood. Bloods pools in some places and smears in others. Bloody footprints and handprints are intermixed on the floor and lower counters. He follows the trail of blood until his eyes find a body.
“Rachelle!” He yells and rushes to her, cradling her in his arms. His hands are instantly covered in blood. He checks for a pulse but finds none. Tears stream down his face as he sits on the floor rocking his wife’s lifeless body. He runs his hand through her hair, hair once blonde, now red with her own blood.
“No no no,” he cries out, “this can’t be happening.”
Beside her body he notices a smaller blood trail leading to the cupboard. He reaches over and opens it. Inside he finds his daughter, her body covered in the same stab wounds as her mother’s.
“Nova? Honey?” He touches her hand and it’s ice cold.
The man sits on the floor holding his wife’s body and his daughter’s hand. Tears drip off his cheeks and mix with the blood that covers his family. Blood that used to pump through their now still hearts. He screams towards the sky, sending a shockwave from his body that shatters all the glass throughout the house.
“Alexander? I heard your…” Another man enters the kitchen. He has dark hair and piercing green eyes that take in the scene before him. “Alexander, I’m so sorry.”
The green eyed man crouches near the man named Alexander and slowly takes him into his arms. Alexander clings to him, tears falling onto the other man’s shoulder.
“We’ll make sure the police find who’s responsible,” the man promises.
“No. I’m going to take care of him myself.” Alexander declares.
The other man pushes him away so he can see Alexander’s face but keeps a strong grip on to his shoulders. Alexander is no longer crying. His eyes are sharp and his face is hard like stone. The man knows what Alexander plans to do.
“No, Alexander.” the man says sternly. “You know what will happen if you take matters into your own hands!”
“I don’t care,” Alexander shakes off the other man’s hands and stands up. “I will do this, and none of you can stop me.”
Alexander leans down and kisses the foreheads of his dead family before walking to the front door, the other man trailing him.
“They’ll get justice. You don’t have to throw your life away. Please, I’m begging you.” The other man moves in front of him, blocking his way, but Alexander just shoves him aside.
“Get out of my way.”
“Alexander, wait!” the other man shouts into the night but Alexander keeps walking until he’s enveloped into the darkness.