This is a paranormal thriller about a young girl coming into her own gifts. She battles demons and ghost and becomes one of the strongest Empaths in the secret world of the supernatural.
All Kat could do was look into Williams eyes as he held her trembling body and whisper with a voice shadowed in pain, “Oh God, he’s back.”
Katherine Roseland Thomas was once again being dissolved in a world of night terrors and dark secrets. In less then a year after the horrific battle with her demonic grandfather, the shadows from his realm of depravity were resurfacing and driving her to the very brink of insanity.
Multitudes of unknown voices screamed within every waking hour of her day, creatures tore at her flesh and death demanded to be acknowledged
Red eyed demons; grotesquely disfigured in death flashed into her line of vision accompanied by flocks of ravens seeking vengeance against her demented heritage.
She was drowning in a paranormal cesspool of evil. What tortured her mind more was that she knew she was the one opening the portal and allowing them to enter. Her soul quest had begun and she was awakening into her own gifts and into . . . darkness.
Excerpt
CHAPTER ONE
William Brodie knelt patiently on one knee allowing the dampness of the riverbank to seep through his slacks. He knew it would be a stain, but it didn’t matter. Nothing mattered, nothing except the image in front of him. In his line of sight was the whole reason his heart sang with joy, the single motive that life’s giving pulse hummed like music in his ears.
He watched as the young woman he had fallen madly in love with glided carefully into the peaceful waters of the river.
She was his Katherine and she was absolutely beautiful. Even as she stood barefoot in the limpid stream with jeans rolled up to her knees, she was magnificent. Her glorious blonde hair absorbed the late afternoon sun and its feathery softness flew about her face on the wings of a gentle breeze. This euphoric image solidified her hold on his heart forever.
William had laughed at her when only moments before she’d seen something glistening in the shallow depths. He watched smiling as she bent to retrieve the had-to-have object. As she lifted her head she slowly turned those heart stopping ice blue eyes to connect with his and at that exact moment his heart did stop. In her eyes the all too familiar vacant stare of a vision greeted him.
Before he could react, the waters violently erupted and Charles Kenner Roseland; the demon from the darkness pit of hell, ejected himself in total sadistic power.
Chaos shattered the tranquil moment with instant darkness and black demonic eyes closed in pure ecstasy as he pulled her screaming into the torrent of raging waters. There was no mercy as one massive hand swallowed her face and a muscular arm wrapped her in an iron clasp against him.
Kat fought wildly to free herself from his grasp. Wailing in fear as her nails ripped decaying flesh from his arms. His howling laughter drowned out those hysterical screams and she was silenced further as he pulled her under the blood filled waters.
William awoke to those exact blood curdling screams of terror. Knowing instantly what was happening he bolted from his bed. Flying down the hallway toward Kat his legs moved swiftly and directly. Though disoriented from his own nightmare, he instinctively knew exactly where to go. Slamming through her door he found her as knew he would, curled in a fetal position drenched in sweat, clutching the covers around her. Her panic filled eyes darting around the room, dilated to near blindness, searching for a danger only she knew was there. He lifted her to him and secured his arms tightly around her.
Once again he tried to comfort and stop the panic that consumed her. This seizure of fear took total control of her muscles shaking her relentlessly. He could feel her fragile body shuddering uncontrollably as it sustained the onslaught of the supernatural. Her lungs expelling short bursts of air, for the overwhelming paranoia clenched her lungs in an inflexible hold.
William’s eyes filled with anguish knowing the mind altering fear Kat was again experiencing. His heart broke for he could nothing to stop her pain.
It was now deep into April and the dreams had returned. After the destruction of the demon last summer and one long deserved week of quiet, she’d begun awakening to nightmares filled with surreal hallucinations. Not just nightmares, but episodes of horrendous night terrors as Charles filled her subconscious with his hordes of evil imps. They chased her through endless winding hallways, their macabre abilities allowing them to scurry unchallenged up walls and across ceilings. Dark shadows morphing into huge demon dogs with burning red eyes, howling with the voices of children and tortured souls. The black eyes of her tormentor would widen in pleasure as phantoms from his realm of depravity tore at her. His demented laughter resonated inside her brain as he watched and rejoiced in her misery.
The abuse in her dreams was real. As in her visions from before, she suffered immeasurably. Dark bruises mystically appeared around her arms and legs. Small bite marks scarred her back and shoulders. She didn’t simply dream of dwarf monsters torturing and assaulting her, she lived their attacks, night after endless dark night. Charles was gathering strength from the suffering of one as he had done from the torment of fifty and this pain was almost too much to bear.
For almost five months she endured his abuse, protecting herself as best she could. She refused to touch certain objects around her home; the banister, the pillars along the veranda and especially the crystal door knobs, in actuality anything that may have belonged in the era of . . . Him. Then when insanity threatened, the dreams slowly decreased and in the first weeks of November they had stopped all together.
The fear diminished as well and she full heartedly began the renovation of Roseland, converting it into a planned Bed and Breakfast with William always close, working at her side.
Kat again laughed and smiled with the joy of young adulthood throughout the long hard days. She had gifted half the plantation to Syntia as she had promised. The fact that Syntia’s surname was Roseland made it even more deserving. During the borage of night terrors this incredible woman had endured the endless screams and had lovingly remained by the young woman’s side, comforting as best she could.
Syntia had silently feared that the madness that had besieged the pregnant matriarch, Katherine Marie Kenner Roseland during the time of the plantation’s disgrace, was resurfacing to seize Kat, to invade her mind and body with evil demons and demonic spirits. So when the dreams decreased and soon disappeared she had mistakenly assumed it to be severe emotional damage from the ordeal that had penetrated their lives the previous summer. Now the return of the darkness flooded them again.
These same dreams had slowly ebbed into her nights beginning only a week ago. Now they had escalated back to the hysteria filled crucibles of the beginning. Kat referred to them as little slices of death.
Tonight’s hallucinogenic prophecy buried her in mounds of decaying remnants of tortured beings. Gormandized worms fell from rotting eye sockets; bugs crawled through skulls and severed body parts. Maggot infested wounds oozed the juices of death upon her as their inert weight crushed her beneath the bilge of stench. She fought unsuccessfully for air, slowly suffocating in their decomposing remains. As the hand of death tightened its grasp around her collapsing lungs, she tried to focus what was left of her thoughts on a flicker of fire dancing at the end of the approaching tunnel of finality.
The tiny brilliant flame began to intensify. It’s radiating warmth comforting her like loving hands.
But now its welcomed heat was growing increasingly uncomfortable. Her diminishing consciousness shouted . . . no screamed into the vacant space that was her brain.
“You’re burning, move!”
The flaming brightness intensified into blinding shards of light. A firestorm of pain erupted into her dream and relit her senses, scorching life back into her veins and awakening her passion to live. She cried into the darkness and fought to escape; to awaken back to reality.
Charles’ satanic laughter pursued her and the unmistakable smell of burning flesh adhered to the soft tissue inside her nose and throat. A strong instinct for self survival demanded her to scream loud enough to wake herself from this hideous illusion of death. And she did, she screamed from the very pits of her burning soul.
Finally the feel of William’s arms enveloping her quaking body told her she had succeeded. Her brain, ready to shut down begged for solitude, to retreat into its own silent world in order to protect its host from lunacy. She knew she could not endure much more.
William knew the dreams had returned. He’d heard her late at night attempting to stifle those screams into her comforter, at times biting down so fiercely she’d bitten through the padded fabric. Dark circles appeared under her beautiful eyes and she adamantly refused to help restore the plantation. He had watched as Kat ghosted through the hallways of Roseland, her arms blanketed tightly about herself in an effort to refrain from accidently touching any object that might inadvertently send her to him.
Before this resurgence, she had begun to initiate bright clothing into her wardrobe and a few times had even worn a dress when they’d gone out for dinner. Now dark grays and black were her chosen colors. She pulled her glorious hair back in a pony tail and secured it tightly on the back of her head. In only a weeks time she began looking frail and sick . . . hollow; empty of life and reason. She wasn’t eating and her solemn stare scanned the rooms seeing the unseen. Now this . . . this shattered scared little girl he held in his arms; her injured mind returning to her defensive shield of shadows.
Her soft voice whimpered into his chest. “Oh God, he’s back.”
William pulled her closer, “Hush Baby, I’m here. He’s not back. They’re only dreams.” Even though he said it, he knew it was a lie.
Tired pale eyes pleading for mercy looked into his. “I don’t think I can do this again. I thought he was gone. I thought . . . with the freeing of the souls he wouldn’t hurt me anymore. That he would cease to exist. I don’t have power over these dreams . . . over him.”
“I know baby, I’ll stay here with you. Close your eyes and try to sleep, if I see you’re dreaming I’ll wake you.”
Kat felt hopeless. William didn’t get it. He had no idea that for weeks she’d been seeing shadows slipping around corners, images hovering and flashing into nothing. They were people, all sorts of people, in all degrees of death. Not the lost souls of the slaves tortured and murdered by Charles. Not the unfortunate remains of her dark dreams; scary people with dark red eyes staring at her. She would feel their icy breath blow down her back or whisper unknown words into her ear. She felt they were coming for her, trying to take her . . . to him.
Then there were the black birds. Red winged ebony birds that appeared from nowhere. Tilting their heads in a jerking motion to one side as she passed and nipping at her with their sharp pointed beaks. Brilliant red flames flickered in their tiny black eyes watching and waiting.
She believed that these recent apparition had triggered the return of her lurid dreams. Somehow these two anomalies’ of her mind though disconnected congealed in an effort to drive her unquestionably insane. She was more afraid today then she had ever been and she was lost, lost in a world of residual paranoia.
The nightmares stole the only reprieve from the walking insanity that was her world. The ever present fear and apprehension kept her lungs from filling, depriving her of oxygen to regenerate strength. Not once in a seemingly normal day did her body function without her senses exploding with the dead. Her very skin rippled with electricity continuously because of their close proximity and filling her with a debilitating cold that tightened her muscles; all but freezing the blood inside her veins.
She had never really been fearful of the spirits of Roseland. The spirits that came to her in the beginning only wanted her to know they were there; he on the other hand paralyzed her. Fear was to slight of a word to describe the overwhelming terror that consumed her when Charles was close. He relentlessly brought excruciating pain and horror to her mind and body. His grotesque torture of those poor souls had sickened her. The demonic acts he choreographed came from absolute darkness, an evil sorcery that had been nurtured in a world of degeneracy and birthed into hers.
However these new spirits, they silently watched, following her throughout the day, somehow hiding between her world and theirs. Then without warning they would burst into her line of vision. Day or night, it made no difference. Glaring at her, waiting; patiently waiting for what ever signal he would give to take her. Kat knew an attack was imminent and she feared it. She felt the hatred in the air, its fingers of depravity crawled beneath her skin. Only Charles could bring that much evil into her world.
Last summer Kat had known what she was searching for. They all knew that he was trying to prevent the release of his victims; those tormented souls and stop the disclosure of the solemnization he preformed; his disgusting cannibalistic ritual that insured an immortal supernatural life.
Now all she knew, was he still existed and he wanted her. He wanted her dead. He wanted her to suffer in perpetual agony of a tortured phantom for all eternity. At this point she believed this would inevitably come true. She had attempted to destroy him, now he would destroy her. Physically or mentally, she would cease to exist. All the while he played with her by inflicting as much damage and pain as possible. These new demons of death were waiting and soon they too would strike.
If only she had destroyed him when she thought she had. Now he grew stronger, rebuilding his power to once again reign over Roseland. The dreams filled her nights; the dead entities filled her days. There was no respite from death. It followed her everywhere. Every moment of time was congested with death. Even the ravens with their piercing stare flashed into her memory each time she closed her eyes.
William watched the passing emotions that flooded her face and his heart ached for her pain. Even in this altered state of chaos her incredible beauty eclipsed the world. That breathtaking mane of golden hair gave her the effect of an angel. An angel sent to fight with a devil. His mouth twisted in a half smile at the thought of such a cliché. But this was real. This devil, Charles Kenner Roseland, was more then real. He was supernatural. He himself had witnessed his power and he saw his wickedness. Something had produced this demon; something from the deepest of darkness brought this monster here.
When he and his best friend Cam had arrived, they’d hoped to document the existence of spirits. Earthbound souls lost or who had chosen to linger behind to complete some important purpose left unfinished by their untimely passing. Instead they had found this beauty, this angel at war with a cruel demented demon. What was he to do now? He would never leave her, could ever leave her. Demon or no demon, Katherine was his heart. He looked down at her with immeasurable love as she trusted him to protect her from her hellish dreams and now slept manically in his arms.
He looked up as a small sliver of light slid through the opening door. Syntia slowly stepped through.
Pain etched deep in his expression. A tear slid uninhibited down his cheek, “They’re back,” was all he could whisper.
The elegant woman lowered her head in defeat and gently closed the door behind her. Syntia had never given birth to a child of her own. Kat was by all meanings of the word her child. She wiped away the cascading beads of heartache from her face as her petite body walked with the heaviness of a worried parent back to her room.
She had moved to Roseland a week after the climax from the search and release of the imprisoned souls. The tremendous battle with the demon had cemented her love for Katherine Thomas. Syntia’s sisters had returned to the mundane life of running, The Three Sisters Inn. They were happy for her and rejoiced in her happiness. Being born the oldest of disturbingly identical triplets insured a life of companionship. The three sisters had always remained together. Even in youth when they chose to travel, they had done so together. When at the age of eighteen Queenie met and married a young man from the vibrant city of New Orleans, her sisters were by her side. When her husband of only two years had died of Influenza they again were there.
When Sydney wanted to do missionary work in Africa, they packed up and traveled with her, living in a remote village for three years. Returning when first their mother died and to soon followed by their father.
In all her years Syntia had not wanted anything except to support her younger sisters in their endeavors through out their lives. She hadn’t realized that there had been a void, until this child had literally ran into her world. Now the filling component of that void lay in the arms of a wonderful young man and suffered in excruciating pain of the mind. Now she too suffered and housed the pain of her child in the midst of her heart.
As the sun rose slowly and peaked through the stained glass transoms of Roseland, Syntia left the plantation. Her heart weighted with grief and worry over her beautiful girl. Queenie had called earlier in the week and asked to see her at the Inn. When she arrived her mirror image set nervously jingling with her bangles and bracelets. Liquid brown eyes held the glassiness of unrest.
“I’m glad you came.”
Syntia took her hands and squeezed gently. “Of course I came. Why ever would I not? If you or Sydney should ever need me all you have to do is call. I haven’t abandoned you two. You are the other two thirds of my soul!”
“I know. But I also know and can see the pain and anxiety that flows through that soul. Our sweet child has seen him again.”
With a grave heart she informed her older sister she had seen the return of the demon as well. That he was waiting for Kat to become increasingly weaker. He’s been sending his poison wraiths to her through the darkness of her dreams. A hole or entrance had occurred, a portal into her mind that allowed him to breach her protective grid. They were to wait for her to crumble and pull her deeper into the obscurity of the psychotic so he could extinguish the light and fire she carried within.
However, the strange spirits that were gathering around their Katherine were not sent by Charles. They were the ones who left the orifice open to the demon. These phantoms came from another time and were in a perpetual search for a flame; for an everlastingly firelight that burned to guide. In her vision these entities had spoke in a strange language. She could only remember one phrase.
It was, “Kut na kin.”
Syntia stared at her sister. “I’ve never heard this language. What does it mean?”
Queenie shrugged her shoulders, “I’m sorry, I can only assume that Katherine has become a very strong, yet untrained medium; a diviner. It is in her blood as in mine. These powers; these gifts usually work their way down through the female line
of origin. She is pulling them . . . these spirits, to her like a type of gravity, a black hole drawing them into a whirlpool around her. Katherine is beginning to develop her matrix, her milieu if you will. She is impressive our young Katherine. I know very little about my own abilities, so it would be best that you find someone that can guide her and teach her to use and accept this gift. This is only a preamble of the journey that the child is about to embark on.”
Syntia felt overwhelmed, never had she foreseen that Katherine would have to live with these spirits for the rest of her life. Katherine was afraid, scared to death of the things that haunted her in her dreams, that walked with her throughout her days.
How was she going to return and tell that fragile child that death would follow her for the remainder of her life? Katherine was not strong at the moment and this news could push her off the ledge she balanced on.
She needed to speak with William, maybe he would have an idea that could soften the news she must deliver.
She looked back at her mirror image, “Thank you Queenie, I know how hard this was for you. You don’t like the gift anymore then I fear Katherine will.”
The flamboyant woman waved her jingle jangles in the air above her head with a flick of her wrist. “Oh, tis really nothing, a few voices, a scattering of shadows, a vision now and then. Nothing compared to what our adopted daughter will find she is capable of achieving. Her clairvoyant potential has turbulently sent a ripple effect throughout the spirit world. These first recipients of her powers were close, very close others will come. She must learn to channel this gateway.”
Syntia let out a long compliant breath. This knowledge that she would have to convey to Katherine was going to be one of the hardest things she had ever done.
Needing strength she stood and looked around the lobby. “Where is Sydney? I didn’t see her when I came in.”
Queenie let her head lull backward for a more melodramatic effect before she brought it up to look at her sister. “Today is Friday, she’s with Ms. Lola Von’ D.” She rolled her eyes dramatically. “She has found a consuming outlet for her time . . . History!” She shook all over with the thought, making her colorful bangles rattle more than ever.
Syntia laughed at her reaction. “Tell her I will see her soon then.”
Back at the mansion William stood on the veranda watching as Kat ghosted around the yard. She liked to stroll on the grounds in the warming sunshine and allow the clean untouched air to slide into her lungs. The open space made her feel free from the spirits that grouped around her, including those that hovered to close or hid behind furniture and darted across hallways. The strange shadowed forms that gathered in clusters and flashed to her in split micro-second movements sending her into a terror filled meltdown.
William could see that she was losing enormous amounts of weight. She was small to begin with and every ounce lost appeared crucial. He watched as she stopped by the wicker chair he’d placed out in the yard for her, she debated on sitting but chose to pass by.
He was losing her. This couldn’t happen! He wouldn’t let this happen!
He glanced up to see Syntia driving . . . no flying down the entry in her bright red compact, throwing a billow of dust behind her.
His tired and jumbled brain bounced from panic over Kat to concern for her family, “What is she thinking, that little woman drives way to fast.”
He jumped down with little effort and walked over to help her from the car. The look on Syntia’s sad face startled him.
“What? Has something happened to the Sisters?”
Syntia shook her head, “No, but we need to talk.” She glanced in Katherine’s direction.
His shoulders fell, “Go ahead, she won’t hear you. I doubt she even knows you’re back.”
They both watched as she kept her head down with arms crossed securely about her chest and walked with the agonizing steps of an old woman.
Tears welled up in William’s eyes. “I can’t let this go on.”
Syntia put a comforting arm about his waste. “Come inside.”
They set where he could watch from one of the big windows. Syntia knew he always kept Kat in sight.
“Queenie has given me some distressing news. She’s had a revelation of her own.” She paused for a moment and reflected on her child through the window. “Katherine will never be rid of the spirits that haunt her. The episode of last summer has awakened powers in her that had lain dormant until now. She is pulling them to her like some cosmic paranormal gravity. She is a seer, a very strong and untrained instrument for the dead to reenter this world and we, have to tell her.”
William watched as Kat stepped up on the veranda as if she expected it to blow up. The effort it took for her to simply step was excruciatingly painful to watch.
“It’ll destroy her.”
“What else can we do?”
“Give me a little time, I need to think.”
He stood and waited for Kat at the door knowing that she would never touch it to open it.
She smiled weakly and slid in past him.
“Have a good walk? Your cheeks are a little red.”
“It felt good, thanks.” She nodded her head at Syntia and then set down. “When did you get back?”
“I arrived but a few moments ago. Did you not hear me coming down the drive?”
“Sorry, I must’ve been preoccupied with . . . something.” She shrugged and snuggled beside her on the sofa.
The instant she relaxed she jerked her head to the right. She took a deep breath and let it out slowly. “I wish . . . they would go away and leave me alone.” Tears slowly slid down her glowing cheeks. “I wish one of you could see what I see.”
William gently uncrossed her arms from her chest and pulled her up to him. Kat’s hands were like ice and yet her skin glowed with warmth. “Come on, I’ll wait for you while you shower. That always makes you feel better.”
After rising from the sofa she leaned down and kissed Syntia on the top of her head. “Stop worrying, I’ll be fine once they go away again. They just scare the hell out of me right now.”
She pulled her hands back from William’s and wrapped them around his neck. He lifted her and carried her up the stairs.
Knowing that the simplest touch on the banister could connect her to the sadistic world of her Grandfather the thought of any contact with the staircase sent her into waves of hysterics. William had resorted to carrying her up and down for the time being. She was light to start with, now it felt as if he was carrying nothing.
Kat looked at William. The once twinkling blue eyes were sad and his beautiful smile was nonexistent. These things, these dead things were affecting those that she loved as well. Her family was suffering because of her. She had to find a way to snap out of this. If . . . if only the dreams would go away like before. But deep down she knew that wasn’t going to happen. She felt different now, not like the old Katherine.
That young girl that had hid behind black makeup and dark clothing of a Goth was gone. Even the new Kat, the strong secure young woman that had fought the demon, was gone. She was different now, kind of scrambled up. Not quite put together, like there was more then before and it was crowded with all of them trying to fit into this one small body. It was way weird. The confusion was all in her brain as if she was in a maze of mirrors and each reflection looking back at its host was altered in some minuscule way to not be her true self and this disorientation of identity kept her even more off balance.
On top of that she was so consumed with fear that she couldn’t cope on a normal level. These new beings, they came at her from nowhere and everywhere at the same time. If she didn’t find a way out and soon she knew she would slip into a catatonic world and be put away in some mental ward.
The possibility of never seeing William again frightened her more then the seemingly foreseeable insanity. She wouldn’t let that happen. He was . . . her stability.
She took her hand and ruffled his hair. “You need a hair cut.”
He was shocked at her playfulness, “Yeah, I’ve kinda been busy. You want to cut it for me?”
“You would actually give me, a pair of scissors?”
William pursed his lips together. “Hmm, for another smile like that I’d let you shave me bald.”
“No thanks, I like your hair.” She looked sad again. “I’m sorry, I really am.”
His heart broke. He let her slide from his arms then hugged her tight. “I know. Go on take your shower. I’ll wait right here I won’t leave.”
He lifted her face to his and kissed her softly on the lips. She loved the taste and feel of his lips on hers. This wasn’t fair. They should be having the time of their lives . . . living. Instead they were watching her dissolve into madness amid the dead.
Kat turned and walked into her bathroom. This was the only place in the house where she hadn’t seen or felt spirits from either world.
That was about to change.
In the end they'll all be dancin'--all them ones that didn't die.... Dance with me in the shadows amidst the lightning and the thunder, and all that nu-cu-lar debris. See the big bang from the other side, and then open that cellar door. Go down into
