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The prologue and the first 3 chapters of my first book.
Prologue
In his Orleans, Ontario basement apartment home, on a rather humid but clear summer night, John Weldon lay in his king size bed in the dark, staring at the ceiling; He wondered what type of landscape he would paint tomorrow. Being a well-known Landscape artist, having several of his works in an Art Gallery on Sparks Street in Ottawa, John never knew that he would be this successful, however, four years ago, he surprised himself when the Gallery graciously accepted his paintings. And, not only was he known for the paintings, as he was also recognized for the shadowing that brought out the trees, shrubs, and sunshine as well as reflections in windows and mirrors in bodies of water.
Every morning though for the last two weeks, he had been having the same strange nightmarish dream. Sometimes late at night and often in the early morning he would wake up in a sweat and spring into a sitting position gasping for air! Why this one dream occurred over and over again he had no idea. Most of the time he could barely recall the dream. So eventually, he would shake it off and try to either go back to sleep or get out of bed to begin the day.
On this very early morning at three, O’clock, however, John was once again jolted awake by the nightmare. This time he stood from his bed and stumbled into his workshop, which was in the second bedroom of his apartment, in his underwear he placed an empty canvas on his easel. Concentrating on the empty canvas, he began painting in vivid recollection the dream which haunted him for weeks.
“Maybe if I do this, this crazy-ass dream will stop.” John said. “Then hopefully, I could get back to having a normal night’s sleep. Even when I manage to forget about it- it always comes back to haunt me.”
As John painted, he never stopped to think about what it could all mean. Not even to take a two-minute break. All time seemed to have stopped; yet he heard the clock on his workshop wall ticking away. The only other sound that he heard was the feather-light-lapping of the paintbrushes on his canvas, very slowly forming a disturbing picture.
Chapter One
A Decision on a Whim
At long last, as John placed the final touches on his painting, he noticed how bright the room had become. Turning to glance at the clock, his eyes slowly widened, surprised that it was just barely ten minutes before eleven a.m. Then he turned back to the painting and stared in disbelief at what it portrayed. John chuckled as he shook his head.
“What the hell am I doing?” he asked himself out loud. “This can’t possibly mean anything; it’s just a freaking dream! Not one, not two or three, but four women in what seems to be old yet ripped clothing inside a Cave on bended knee - looking up at a very large human-like shadowed figure.”
John laughed as he turned away from the weird painting and set about cleaning the brushes that were used as well as put his paints away. In a short time he was finished and then he left the room, leaving the painting to dry properly. Returning to his own bedroom he threw on a white bathrobe and then stepped into the washroom to take a shower. Once the water was best suited for him and hot enough, he stepped into it.
It seemed to John that he was taking a longer shower than usual. He continuously tried to wave the possible truth to the dream he
After a few more minutes, he turned the water off and stepped out of the shower, dried off, then went back to his bedroom and got dressed. Shortly, he makes his way into the kitchen and sets about making coffee and breakfast, thinking that eggs and beacon with home fries sounded rather good to begin the day. Even though John
“Okay,” John said, frustrated now, “I have to get out of here and do something to take my mind off this senseless, nutty dream or I’ll go wacky!”
Still sitting there, he grew quiet and thoughtful for a moment. All of a sudden, snapping his fingers and sitting upright, finally an idea formed in his head.
“I know what I will do!” he claimed excitedly. “I’ll go find a mountain to climb and hopefully a Cave to explore. That sounds like a plan. I’ll get ready to do that right now. Oh, but first I should clean up my dishes.”
If there was one thing that John loved, besides painting landscapes, was cave exploring. So, after he straightened up, did his dishes, as well as gathered his mountain and cave exploration gear, John walked out the door and locked up. Momentarily, he arrived at his black, 1992 Chevy Pick-up truck. Unlocking the driver
“It’s been a long time since I went into a Cave and explored it,” John said . “I believe there is a big one in Shaw Ville, Quebec. At least that is what I overheard at the Art Gallery.”
With that said, he turned the radio on to 93.1 The Bear and cranked up and old AC/DC song called
“One day I will move back here,” he commented thoughtfully.
Chapter Two
Like a Thief in Broad Daylight
About an hour later, John arrived at the mountain he wanted to climb, to look for a cave to explore. He did not think that the drive from his home on Garden way Road, was at all long. John stepped out of his truck and found himself alone in the picnic-rest area as he surveyed it, where some people would stop to just eat, or go hiking in the mountains. Not only was there no people- there were no other vehicles as well. Only for a brief moment was John distracted by the silence. Nevertheless, he quickly brought himself back to reality and shook it off and geared up.
Making his way up the path that led to the face-wall of the mountain where he would begin climbing, which looked something like a rough stairway leading upward, he knew it would be safe to climb without getting hurt. John was a good mountain climber, but he was far from being a professional. As he climbed higher and higher, he searched for any type of entrance to a cave. The only sounds he heard were the sounds of his own breathing and the slight breeze blowing through the trees.
“This is great,” he whispered in awe. “It’s so peaceful. There is not a singlesound except formy own voice and a tiny little breeze. How could anyone who hates city noises not enjoy this?”
For the type of mountain he was climbing, which was nothing as tall or as dangerous as Mount Everest, he was wearing a white T-shirt, green shorts, and white running shoes. Plus, he had his mountain gear, which consisted of a safety rope, a very small, hand size pickaxe, a helmet with a built in flashlight, and several six-inch metal spikes, to plug into cracks in the rock.
About a half an hour later, he assumed he was a little more than halfway up the mountain. At least twenty feet to his right, John was looking at a beautiful waterfall. Approaching it, noticing the narrow path leading to the top of the waterfall, as well as, the long deadly fall to anyone, who was drunk trying to walk the narrow path.
“Holy crap!” John whispered as he stood near the edge of the path and looked down. “I would hate to imagine what someone would look like after a fall from this.”
Looking down, closer toward the middle of the deep gully behind the waterfall, something had caught his eye. He was looking at what seemed to be a fair size gap.
“I wonder,” he said, thoughtful for a brief moment. “Could that possibly be one of the entrances to the Cave that I’ve heard about?”
Very carefully, John made his way along the narrow walkway, always watching where he stepped, using the mountain wall to help with his balance. Only a few minutes later, he arrived at the top of the waterfall. Looking down, noticing right away that there were very narrow steps leading downward. Of course, he never stopped to think about the reason those steps were there. He simply thought they were part of the mountain. John very slowly made his way down the narrow steps, twice, almost falling to his certain death or at the least, hospitalization.
Finally, coming to the end of the treacherous stairway, now realizing what they led to, first glancing back at the steps and then upward. John began wondering about why they were there now. Then, crouching down, he tried peeking into the opening behind the waterfall, yet he could see nothing. Slowly, carefully, he made his way into the Cave
“Well,” he said as he shivered and shook the cold water off, “that makes two showers today.”
“What the hell happened here?” he asked quietly in a curious manner. Most of the footprints seemed to be those belonging to women, because most of the prints were smaller than his own, except for one set, which were very large compared to his. John was certain that they belonged to a man. “It’s probably just me,” he said inquisitively, “but something just does not seem right about this. Unless, there was some type of pagan orgy with twenty women and one man.”
Laughing-away-the-thought, John continued even deeper into the cave. In a very short time, he came to a fork. There was one tunnel on the right, and there was one on the left. However, the entrance to the tunnel on the right had a sign in front of it.
"What the heck is that?” He said, before he read the sign out loud. “Stay away from this tunnel, or . . .” he paused. “What the heck does that mean?”
Without even thinking about the possibilities of consequence, he decided to take the right tunnel. The path was narrow enough that, John could stretch out his hands, as if he was gliding, and touch the tunnel walls. However, about twenty feet into the tunnel, he noticed strange markings on one side of the Cave wall. He studied them.
“So,” he said, “this is what archaeology feels like. These carvings; they look like women worshipping a dark shadow of a male giant of sorts. Yet that is impossible, because there is no such thing as giants.”
He paid no more thought to the odd carvings and continued walking. After another five feet into the tunnel, the floor shattered beneath his feet. He fell straight and fast until he landed with a hard thud, making him lose consciousness.
Chapter Three
Lost and Found
Jenny was the first to find him after he fell through the Cave floor above. She silently crept over to him; occasionally pausing and looking around to see if she could spot the Shadow, the one who was keeping her and many other women prisoner there. Firstly, she checked to see if he was still alive. She reached for a pulse and had found a strong one. Jenny breathed a hushed sigh of relief and then carefully she tried to awaken him.
“Can you hear me?” she asked him in a quiet whisper at first, shaking his wrist gently. “Hello, is anyone in there?” she asked a little louder this time.
When she received no answer, Jenny pinched his ear, only a little harder than she really wanted to. She knew very little about what was called CPR.
“Hey,” she said a little louder with more concern. “Wake up! It is not safe for you here!” she tried to warn.
There was still no answer from John nor did he even move. Two more women had heard Jenny's voice and quickly yet quietly ran to her side. They were curious as to what was going on. One of the women gasped in both surprise and horror, because she thought that John could have died from the fall, but also because of what could happen if he didn’t wake up and the Shadow found him there.
“What happened Jenny?” the other lady whispered worriedly.
“I’m not sure Betty.” Jenny claimed. Then she nodded upward and looked up. “I saw him crash through the Cave floor above, and, he landed here. He appears to be unconscious.”
“Will he live?” the other woman asked in a barely audible voice. It was obvious that she had a big heart.
“I am not a doctor Brooke,” Jenny said. “But I did find a strong pulse so I think he will survive.”
Jenny thought for a moment, trying to think of a better way to help revive the injured man.
They rested him there.
“All right,” Crystal said softly, as well checking to see if the Shadow had heard or seen them, “let’s put him down here. Nice and easy now Let’s not damage him any more than he already is.”
“Did he wake up at all?” Chantal asked, hoping Jenny would say yes.
“No,” Jenny replied, shaking her head. “He didn’t even move.”
Brooke paced the cave floor nervously, trying to find a way to help John. Crystal was sitting at his feet, seeming to stare off into space. Jenny was just standing up to go and get some cold water for John
“As soon as he wakes up, he will have to leave.” Brooke claimed in a whisper, not wanting a recurrence of what happened to the others.
“I know that Brooke,” Crystal said. “If he stays here he will die like the others.”
“What if he decides to try and save us?” Chantal asked curiously.
“Then he will die in doing so,” Crystal answered.
“We cannot allow the Shadow to find him here.” Jenny said as she returned to John’s side and placed a clean wet dishcloth over John’s forehead.
“Of course not Jenny,” Brooke said, “but how will we get him out of here before the Shadow does find him?”
“We will have to find the answer to that question quickly,” Crystal claimed. “As we are thinking of an answer, we should keep trying to wake him.”
And try to wake him they did. They shouted in loud whispers, as if they were in a library. They tried shaking him awake a little harder this time, yet they had received no answer in any way. They even tried talking him into waking up, but it was a losing battle.
John crouched down, and, walked in a duck-like manner farther into the Cave
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