Category: Into Darkness Teasers

Into Darkness: Chapter 2

JasonRDavisLeave a comment

INTO DARKNESS

A creature, part of the darkness before God created the heavens and earth, has awakened. It had slumbered, hibernating from the light. Now, it is hungry and wanting to feed…

Bobby, a local kid, and the police chief have gone missing. Everyone in the small town turns to former Chicago cop Rob Alletto to find them, but as he starts his search, more people disappear. Rob is quickly overwhelmed. The night seems to come alive, taking these people. Alletto must find out why and discover a way to stop it before the whole town slips…Into Darkness.

NOW AVAILABLE FOR PRE-ORDER

Into Darkness

*******************

INTO DARKNESS

BY

JASON R. DAVIS 
Published by

Breaking Fate Publishing

© 2017 by Jason R. Davis

*******************

 
 Rob knew she was going to kill him, but not because of how late he was. She was getting used to that, even though she didn’t like it. She understood it was only temporary and she had accepted it. After the second week of him coming home to a dinner that had been sitting for three hours, she’d learned not to cook too early. That fight had already happened. He thought she was okay with that part of the job. No. She was going to kill him because not only was he coming home tonight smelling like sewage, but his clothes were covered in it, he was covered in it, the towel on the car seat was covered in it. He didn’t want to think about how their only car was covered in it. His sense of smell had long since evaporated after the second hour of being coated in the stuff, so he wasn’t sure how bad it was. He would find out soon enough. Robyn would probably take him right into their back yard and hose him down before he was even allowed in the house.

 Her house, yeah, and if he just walked in like he was now, he would immediately be pushed back out of her house. In the cool night air, he would be forced to clean up with the garden hose. Maybe he should just go into the back right when he got home. Just walk around to the side of the house and spray himself down. Rob had already done it once tonight while still at the sewage plant, but there was only so much he could do without getting undressed. Much of the chemicals still covered him, and there was no hope for his clothes. He would have had to strip naked at the plant, and that wasn’t happening.

 The smell just had to come home with him. Each day, he thought he left it at work. According to Robyn, though, he still smelled like sewage when he got home.

 Thank goodness the job was only temporary. Rob Alleto, town deputy and overall nice guy, did not see himself working there for long. It was just a nice bit of additional income to get them ready for the winter. The job wasn’t him, but it was what they needed to do to get by right now.

 When Rob left Chicago, he had been a beat cop for over fifteen years. When he left to become a small-town deputy, he didn’t know how much less he would make. He was used to being a full-time cop. He came to Standard assuming the job was full-time. He didn’t expect to only be working weekends, the chief giving him the occasional weekday out of pity.

 He didn’t know if he could say he loved being a cop. He loved his wife and son. His career as a police officer was different. He was a protector, a guardian. Being a cop was so intertwined with his being, he wouldn’t be himself, the man he was happy to be, without it.

 That had been put to the test just over a year ago when he was caught in the mess down in Hammond. He still wasn’t over that, but he had moved on as best as he could. He had saved some, but not everyone. On one level, he knew that would have to be enough, but there were so many more people he should have been able to save. He should have rescued them.

He took a long, deep breath. It’s all behind me. It has to be.

 He took another breath, tasting the smell hanging in the small space of the car. Rob hauled sewage from the plant to the fields. It was a seasonal job, just until the end of October. He worked during the week so as not to interfere with his police duties. It also paid well enough that not only was the mortgage finally up to date, but there was extra. It was enough to get Jake clothes and supplies for school. They also put money away to actually pay the power bill on time this winter. The job allowed him to provide for his family once again.

 He sometimes worried someone would say something about how being a town deputy and a truck driver might be a conflict of interest. Maybe it was. He knew working every single day pushed the hours of service laws, but he walked the fine line of harvest field exception laws for farmers. He had to walk it, even though it meant he wouldn’t be able to spend much time with his wife and son.

 Dan had tried to help him. He knew how much they were hurting. When the chief had to reduce Rob’s time on duty and cut the weekly day bonus due to cutbacks of what the town considered unnecessary police spending, Rob’s life started to get increasingly more difficult. They had been three months behind on the mortgage, the power was about to get turned off, and their house in Chicago wasn’t selling.

 Dan told him about a farm outside of town that needed a driver. Bruce, a friend of Rob’s, had been happy to help him get his CDL. He couldn’t afford to get his commercial driver’s license through a school. He knew there were programs out there, but he couldn’t leave the part-time job he had now for a chance at making a little more.

 Without Bruce, he never would have managed it. At first, Bruce was nervous. Rob was the only officer who knew about his second log book, and he had to constantly reassure his friend he wouldn’t turn him in for it. Of course, that deal came with conditions. He looked the other way, but Rob had been adamant about the real reason he stayed cool with the second log book. Bruce was a decent guy who didn’t do drugs. When he used the second log book, he just stretched the law a little bit to get by. If he stayed safe, stayed responsible, Rob didn’t have a problem with it.

 Then there were the guys he worked with from the plant. At first, they were wary about being around a cop all day. Drivers had a history of not trusting law enforcement, and he could understand why. From their perspective, the DOT was always out to get them. They thought officers were around every corner. As if to justify the belief, Bruce had told him about some of the things he’d seen out on the road. Rob had a hard time believing it, but he understood why the guys would be as wary around him as they were.

It had taken some time, but he had worked his way into their good graces. He had even adopted the CB handle “Da Bear”.

 Not too many drivers went by anything other than their names, but none of them called him by his. He was “Da Bear” and he liked it. At home, his son used to call him “Daddy Bear”, and he knew truckers called cops “Smokey Bears”. So he was “Da Bear”, and he took pride in it. It warmed his heart when they called him on the CB. Of course, it didn’t have anything to do with an old SNL skit and Rob actually being from Chicago.

Yeah, and Ditka is not a god. Daaa Bears.

 Rob smirked. Da Bear is going to be dead once the mommy bear gets her hands on him.

 He pulled the car into the driveway, not wanting to go in. This wasn’t going to be pretty. His shitty job had led to a shitty day, which would probably lead to a shitty night. Oh, where was the justice in the world? The second he opened that door, she would drag him out to the hose. He knew it was coming. It was inevitable. He might as well just go right over to the hose and do it himself.

 As he walked up to the door, the cool breeze rustled the trees. Weeks earlier, the leaves had turned yellow, many of them now scattered on his lawn. The few remaining in the tree caught in the wind, gliding down amongst that brisk fall air to land on his windshield. The air blowing through his hair, he imagined it turning to freezing when the water slammed into him.

 It was going to be a long night. All he had to look forward too was the hot shower to come.

Into Darkness: Chapter 1

Into Darkness, my latest novel, will be published by Breaking Fate Publishing on August 29th, but here is a sneak preview…

JasonRDavisLeave a comment

INTO DARKNESS

A creature, part of the darkness before God created the heavens and earth, has awakened. It had slumbered, hibernating from the light. Now, it is hungry and wanting to feed…

Bobby, a local kid, and the police chief have gone missing. Everyone in the small town turns to former Chicago cop Rob Alletto to find them, but as he starts his search, more people disappear. Rob is quickly overwhelmed. The night seems to come alive, taking these people. Alletto must find out why and discover a way to stop it before the whole town slips…Into Darkness.

 

*******************

 

INTO DARKNESS

BY

JASON R. DAVIS

 

Published by

Breaking Fate Publishing

© 2017 by Jason R. Davis

 

All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means without the written permission of the publisher, except where permitted by law. The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic and print editions, and do not participate in or encourage any form of piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

 

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

 

Please visit us online at http://breakingfatepublishing.com

Jason Davis’ website can be found at http://jasonrdavis.com

 

Edited by: Kim Young, Kim’s Fiction Proofreading & Editing Services

Cover Illustration by: Jason R. Davis

Copyright 2017

**************

CHAPTER 1

             Walking out, the screen door slammed behind him with a satisfying whack, making Bobby smile, knowing just how much his grandmother hated it. Sure enough, not long afterward, there she was, standing in the doorway. He didn’t have to look around to know the short, squat-looking woman, who usually always had a warm smile for anyone, would not have that smile now.

“Robert Evan Taylor, you know better than to let that screen door slam behind you,” she called after him.

He turned and saw a glare and frown on her face, just as he pictured. It wouldn’t last, though, and he knew it. She loved him too much. All he had to do was flash a grin at her and watch as the hardened face softened. It wasn’t in her nature to stay upset, her usual, heartwarming smile quickly reemerging.

“I’m sorry, Grandma,” he said, jumping down the few cement steps to the front sidewalk.

“Okay, well, make sure to have your mom call me when you get home. I want to know if she still intends to go garage saleing with me tomorrow and if so, she better get here early.”

Bobby knew his grandma could call his mom. No, the reason for him to tell his mom to call was her little subtle way of checking to make sure he got home safely. He was ten. He didn’t need them to constantly check up on him. For half the kids in town, their parents never knew where they were. He was so annoyed that they always kept a watchful eye on him.

Okay, he knew why, but it still wasn’t fair. It happened over a year ago. They should move on already. He had.

“I will.”

Bobby walked toward the end of the sidewalk. He’d turn left and go through what his grandmother called the “Fool’s Woods”. It was a dark spot of town, the little mini-forest surrounding the large coal dump. Of course, neither she nor his mother allowed him to go through there, but if he didn’t, he would have to walk downtown and get harassed by the older kids who hung out up there. The coal dump path was a straight shot home. It was stupid to go around it every night.

“Bobby, where’s your bike?”

He turned back toward his grandmother. Yeah, he wasn’t happy he didn’t have his bike, either. He didn’t want to tell her he had bent the rim yesterday by jumping off one of the little cliffs around the coal dump. Well, he hadn’t bent it by jumping off. It had been the landing. He had gotten some really good speed. So much so, he realized he was going too fast. His survival instinct kicked in and he had bailed off his bike right before the cliff’s edge. In the end, he walked away with scratched knees. His bike hadn’t been so lucky.

He planned to go to some of the garage sales by himself tomorrow to see if he had enough allowance to get some other crappy bike. It wouldn’t be as nice as the sixteen-speed mountain bike he had now, but it didn’t have to be. He hoped to find a granny rider or a banana special he could tool around with, maybe salvage some of the parts from. It wouldn’t be the first time he had done it, their second garage starting to look like a bicycle graveyard.

“Oh, it had a flat tire before school this morning, so I just walked.” He rushed through the lie as he stepped onto the uneven asphalt of the road.

The gravel crunched beneath his sneakers as he jogged the short distance to the streetlight at the end of the block. When he heard the screen door ease shut behind him, he slowed to a walk, happy he was no longer being watched.

He knew she would be back inside, already changing the TV channel as she sat at her kitchen table. It was how she always was without him there. The TV would be on some game show or a lame country music station. Something no one under the ancient age of fifty would enjoy.

At least she didn’t force him to watch any of that boring crap. When school let out and he had to go to his grandma’s so she could watch him until his mom got off work, he would come in the door, drop his backpack, and quickly grab the remote. It was his time to watch what he wanted.

He would sometimes come in through the back door and sneak up behind her. She never heard him, so he would give her a quick hug from behind. She would jump and give a shout every time. Then he would say sorry and grab the remote. After all, he had just given her a hug.

He stood under the glow of the next streetlight. With the fall chill, night had started coming earlier and it was already dark. It wasn’t chilly enough for him to wear a jacket, not that he would. He liked to avoid it until he was forced to, wearing shorts and t-shirts until it was a command from his overbearing mother. “Wear this.” “Wear that.” “Don’t be out too late riding your bike.”

If she found out he was going through the Fool’s Woods tonight, she’d nag him about that, too.

He walked past the the streetlight, keeping his eyes focused on the next one, the gravel crunching under his shoes. There were no sidewalks on this street. Normally, he would ride his bike down the side of the road, but he now let his feet follow where his tires would cruise.

Mrs. Brady’s house was up on the right side of the road. All the lights were on, the curtains wide open. Outside, she had orange Halloween lights, which looked like Christmas lights someone had pooped on, running along the edges. Halloween was only a couple weeks away, and she was one of those town nuts who loved to overdo it. However, her version wasn’t haunted or creepy. She seemed to think Halloween was like Christmas with lights and inflatables of smiling skeletons. What fun was that? It was too childish. Come on. These weren’t any kind of decorations for Halloween. Where was the scary?

From light, it seemed like he went to completely pitch black as none of the houses on the next block were lit up. He knew people lived in the first house, but only because he would sometimes see cars parked in the driveway. Bobby didn’t know them, but whoever lived there never really cared to socialize anyway. The streetlight gave off the only light on the block until he reached the alley and Tina Limpquist’s house, which was right along Main Street.

Tina was annoying, and Bobby would often pick on her at school. He found it hard not to as she was such a snot. One grade behind him, she still found ways to tattle. It seemed getting him in trouble was her personal mission. When he pushed her down at school, she always ran to Mrs. Sanchez. Then he would have to sit out another recess, writing those stupid sentences up on the blackboard until the underside of his hand hurt.

Once school was over, Tina waited to see if he would go into the Fool’s Woods. Then she would call his mom or grandmother and get him in trouble again. What was it with little girls knowing his mom and calling her? There were others who gave little reports to his mom, but Tina was the worst.

At least he knew she didn’t watch for him at night. She didn’t know of all his night trips through the woods. Tina was afraid of the dark…Ooh, boohoo. Little girl afraid of the dark…which meant she wouldn’t be out or even looking out her window. Little girls were always afraid of monsters. Besides, unless he was under the streetlight, she wouldn’t even be able to tell it was him.

Bobby made it past her house and to Main Street, which actually had a sidewalk. When he had his bike, he would fly down it, not caring if the cops caught him. He’d been stopped a few times, the cops telling him it was illegal, threatening to give him a fine. He still rode his bike on the sidewalk, not caring if they liked it or not. He felt safer there than on the street. People who walked, well… They needed to get out of his way. He was the bike rider, the midnight flyer, and on his bike, he was the king. Everyone should know to get out of his way or get run over.

But he had no bike tonight, so he was forced to be one of the walkers, yuck, and he wasn’t happy about it. He wasn’t going to go along the street, though. His goal was to cross it and into the open grass area, then into the woods. His grandma would call him a fool. She always warned him of all the hobos in the woods at night, telling him they liked to steal little kids and run off with them.

Like a hobo is really going to grab me.

Even if he didn’t have his bike, he could still run pretty fast. And when had he ever seen a hobo in Standard? It’s Standard. There were no big towns nearby, nothing close that would be considered a city. He had only ever seen one creepy guy. Bobby guessed he could have been considered a hobo. He had heard he lived in the alley behind Main Street. Everyone knew he didn’t have a regular job, doing odd jobs and stuff liked that. Sure, he could be in the coal dump, but everyone said he slept in the alley. Why would he leave back there to stay in the woods?

Besides, if anything happened to Bobby, that guy would be the first one questioned. He didn’t know if it would be like in those cop shows where they put him in a room and sat him down, waiting it out, maybe even beating the guy up for a confession. If it were, he kind of wished he could be there to watch it. That would be so cool.

Huh. Just where did they question their perps anyway? Bobby wondered.

He had seen inside the little police headquarters in town when he had to go up there when Mikey had disappeared. He saw the little office all the kids called the “Cop Shop”. It was so small, barely having room for a desk and a file cabinet. Where did the cops take the people they needed to question? Did they have some other jail hidden somewhere?

He walked across the street, not hurrying because there were no cars. While it was still relatively early, it was a school night. It seemed like most kids just didn’t stay out as late anymore. Their loss. They should be out enjoying this. Who cared about what the adults said? They should be out running through the alleys and having fun. Maybe it was just a fluke that most people wanted to spend the night at home, but it had been like this all week. Where were his friends? Why weren’t they playing tag in the coal dump when it was dark and harder to find each other?

He made his way across the street, turning to look at downtown two blocks away. Sure enough, it was pretty much what he would have expected. There were three cars parked in front of Doc’s Sweet Shop, four or five older kids sitting on the steps. It was too far away to know who, but he could make a guess. It would be the normal ones, Springer being one of them.

Springer, the one he was really trying to avoid. The rest of them weren’t that bad, but there was just something about Springer that dug deep into Bobby’s chest and gripped his heart. It had been a long-standing feeling that traced back to even before Springer began picking on him. Bobby didn’t know why, but the kid had it out for him. When they were in the same school, Springer would push him into lockers. He once chased him down and slammed Bobby into a fence just because he had looked at him. Springer would snicker and make up cruel nicknames for Bobby whenever he was near.

Bobby would much rather face whatever was in the Fool’s Woods than go uptown. There was no way he wanted to face Springer, not with all his friends standing around. Instead, Bobby rushed down the gravel maintenance vehicle entry until he came to the edge of the path and the yellow bar blocking it. From there, he could see the small path running along the south edge of the large mound. He didn’t know why his mom called it the coal dump, or the surrounding woods the Fool’s Woods. Both seemed like strange names, but especially the coal dump because the rock mountain was covered in small, thin red rocks, which looked nothing like the coal he had seen. It was just another one of those weird things he didn’t think he would ever understand. And why call it the Fool’s Woods? At least the whole town called it the coal dump. As far as Bobby knew, only his grandma and mom had a name for the wooded area around it. He had called it that to Emily once and she just looked at him funny.

He stood at the barrier. Of course, no one ever let the bar stop them. Walkers just stepped over it, and those who rode their bikes just went around. There was a well-worn path around the side where bike tires had long since stripped the grass. It was a good symbol for how everyone felt about the coal dump. The adults said to not go there, but everyone did. No one cared.

He let his knees rest against the bar as he looked down the long path. A cool breeze rustled the remaining leaves in the trees. He closed his eyes and listened as the night talked to him. The wind pushed against him, as if telling him to turn back around. Bobby chuckled.

His overactive imagination often talked to him. Whether riding his bike or running, he felt like people were in the trees, watching. Sometimes, they were spies and he was a secret agent making his daring escape. Other times, they were ghosts. He was always much more afraid of the ghosts because they would scream at him as he rode by, their howls piercing the night, crying out that they knew what he had done.

Tonight was different. He really felt like he was being watched, and not just because of his imagination. The night had an edge to it. He knew Tina wasn’t watching him, but it still felt like it. He knew the older kids weren’t anywhere near him, but it felt like they were right there, breathing down his neck. He wasn’t alone. Something was watching him. Even in the open, he felt like there was something just out of sight, hiding in the darkness.

Come on. Don’t be a dork.

Bobby laughed and put his foot up on the bar. The muscles in his leg flexed as he pushed himself up, then it was off to the races. He could sometimes see a little light from the streetlight just past where the path twisted, but not tonight. He landed hard on the other side of the bar and took off running.

The night came to life around him. The wind picked up, hammering into him, as if warning Bobby he was running into danger. It howled around him, screaming, piercing. He tried not to focus on it because it was hard enough to see where he was going. The moon was bright overhead, but as he went deeper, more and more trees took away the light.

He knew the path well, but he was usually riding his bike. It all felt different when he ran. His feet didn’t land right because of the ruts. There were times he slipped or snagged a foot on a root.

Shadows moved, twisting and turning around him. Their dance slithered amongst the light. When it seemed like Bobby could see where he stepped, the light changed and his foot fell into darkness, making him trip on the uneven, rocky ground.

Taking a breath got harder, the air around him growing thick. He hadn’t noticed it at first. He thought it was because of his running, but now it felt like syrup as he fought to breathe. His head grew fuzzy, the world around him turning gray. No, it wasn’t the world going gray. It was his head. It was heavy, like he had to struggle to think. He couldn’t remember where he was going.

His shoes felt like weights, slowing him down. The roots he had to step over seemed to have grown, making him fight to get over them. He finally misjudged. Before he knew what was happening, he fell.

The ground came up quickly. His arms plunged into the thorn bushes running along the edge of the path, cutting his skin. His knees hit hard, the sharp pain making him turn his body as he skidded along the red shale rock. He had fallen off his bike enough times to know how it felt when skin got scraped away. Somewhere in his mind, he heard his mother yelling at him about his long-sleeved shirt being in his backpack.

Home. He wasn’t that far. Being so close was somehow important.

His body was sore, his chest feeling like a hammer had slammed into it. He reached out to push himself up, his palms burning, his knees screaming as he knelt. Glancing up, he could see the streetlight at the end of the path. He was almost there. Almost out of there and away from…

Something. There’s something in here.

Bobby could feel it. It wasn’t his imagination. There was something hiding in the shadows, reaching out for him. When he had fallen, the pain pushed back some of the fog and he could breathe again. He knew there was a presence watching him.

He couldn’t believe it. His grandmother was right. There was something in the woods, and it was coming after him. He had to get out of there. He had to run and go and get the hell away before it got him. He could see the shadows dancing again, circling him.

A chill came over him, but he couldn’t shiver. His body wasn’t his to control anymore. Bobby’s mind started to spasm. He couldn’t escape the cold or shake it away as it overtook him. The fog came back, the weight on his chest getting heavier. It felt like waves slammed over him, pulling him deeper into exhaustion.

Bobby knew he had to get out of there before whatever it was completely took him. There had to be a way for him to break free. He’d been on that path a thousand times. It was his home away from home. When he’d ride his bike through there, he’d hit speeds where it felt like he was outrunning the devil. Well, the devil was back. He had to get away.

How do you beat the devil?

He wasn’t the most religious, not after him. His parents weren’t churchgoers. His grandma went a few times a year, usually when he would go along. What had the pastor always said?

Please, there has to be some prayer.

There had to be something he could do or say. Something that would get him out of there. Bobby needed to remember, but thinking was just so hard at the moment. The harder he tried, the thicker the fog grew.

From somewhere, the words came to him. A ray of light shown through the clouds as the words formed. He recognized the bedtime prayer. As he visualized it in his head, his mouth formed the words.

“Now I lay me down to sleep,” he gasped. The words tried to choke him, but with a watery cry, he forced them out. “I pray the Lord my soul to keep. And if I die before I wake…” I don’t want to die. God, don’t let me die. He forced in more air, the weight on his chest lightening. The next few words came out in a rush. “I pray the Lord my soul to take.”

The fog receded as a shiver rocked through him. Bobby could move again. Before it even registered, he jumped up and ran. His feet pounded on the ground, pushing him. Go, go, go. Faster. The devil was back there, and it wanted him. If he stopped again, he didn’t think he’d get another chance. He had to win. He had to get to the light.

The bar at the end of the path got closer. Bobby saw the yellow paint, which caught the light of the streetlight. He had to reach it. He’d be safe then.

His legs pumped harder. New pain coursed through him, but he fought to keep himself moving. Run faster. The fog was there, but he felt like he was running through it. It seemed like the faster he ran, the more it drifted behind him. It lifted more and more out of his mind.

I…just…have…to…run…fast…enough…

Then he was there. Holding his breath, he leapt high over the bar, his heart pounding. It would have been easier for him to just run around, but he was sure that whatever was behind him would have caught him if he did. He had never cleared it before, but he needed to now. If he tripped… If he were to get caught on it, he would fall just short of the glow of the streetlight and it would get him.

Bobby landed with a whoosh of air. He swore he heard the night around him come alive with cheering. Crowds roared and applauded. He reacted by standing, raising his arms, and jumping around, doing an end zone dance as he worked his way into the round circle of light.

“And the crowd goes wild!” Bobby cheered, his hands held high. He jumped up and down a few times before the burning in his lungs forced him to bend over, coughing, fighting to take in deep breaths. He didn’t care. He had made it to the light. He was safe. If he stood up and looked, he would see his house just across the empty lot.

“And the crowd goes wild,” he said again, looking at the asphalt of the road. He had won. He stood and looked over to where his house was…

It wasn’t there. Nothing was there. All he could see was black. He turned to look in the direction he had just come from.

Nothing, just blackness.

“No! No! No!” Bobby cried out, spinning around. As fast as he turned, he could only see glimpses of the world around him, the darkness cutting him off. Then it drew closer, the circle of light shrinking around him. Above him, the dark moved across the light, Bobby’s world disappearing.

If anyone had come down the street, they would have seen what looked like a circle of nothing, not much larger than a ten-year-old child.

If a person was really close, they could even hear the muffled cries, screams of a child calling for help.

Then the ball of blackness shrank in upon itself until the glow from the streetlight above illuminated the area once again.

Bobby was gone.

Into Darkness: Interlude I

JasonRDavisLeave a comment

INTO DARKNESS

BY

JASON R. DAVIS

 

Published by

Breaking Fate Publishing

© 2017 by Jason R. Davis

All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means without the written permission of the publisher, except where permitted by law. The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic and print editions, and do not participate in or encourage any form of piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

 

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

 

Please visit us online at http://breakingfatepublishing.com

Jason Davis’ website can be found at http://jasonrdavis.com

 

Edited by: Kim Young, Kim’s Fiction Proofreading & Editing Services

Cover Illustration by: Jason R. Davis

Copyright 2017

**************

In the beginning, God created Light and saw that it was good. In this light, he created the heavens and the earth. Hell came later, but was still a part of what was created. Before the light, before God, Darkness was all that was known. It was from then, the creature came into existence.

            Time was unknown, not yet a part of days. The dark was not split amongst the light, and everything continued as an endless night. The creature was used to this darkness.  

It flourished in this moment outside time. It devoured others and took them to be a part of it.  

Others lived in this time and thrived on each other. Some lived off misery, some off life essence. It was a savage time. Worlds hadn’t existed and these creatures lived without form…pieces of the dark, but not a part of it. They had their own sentience and did not rely on the dark. They only existed upon it.

            Then the light came. Time came. Days started and ended with the darkness now splitting the light. The things of before had to remove themselves to a pocket of nonexistence outside of time, but those who could not had to find the shadows.

One such creature hid deep in this new rock that flowed of the dark earth across its surface. It burrowed itself deeply, finding solitude a comfort as time moved on away from him. As light and dark, night and day fought for domination in a new existence, the creature hibernated, hiding from it all.

Into Darkness: Prologue

JasonRDavisLeave a comment

Okay, so yesterday I posted a preview of Into Darkness as we prepare for publication. For those who read more into the post, realized that I teasingly just posted the first sentence. I know, not funny.

I’d like to make up for it by post the actual prologue to Into Darkness.

So here for your reading pleasure.

Sincerely,

Jason R. Davis

**************

INTO DARKNESS

BY

JASON R. DAVIS

 

BREAKING FATE PUBLISHING

 

Published by

Breaking Fate Publishing

© 2017 by Jason R. Davis

 

All Rights Reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means without the written permission of the publisher, except where permitted by law. The scanning, uploading, and distribution of this book via the internet or via any other means without the permission of the publisher is illegal and punishable by law. Please purchase only authorized electronic and print editions, and do not participate in or encourage any form of piracy of copyrighted materials. Your support of the author’s rights is appreciated.

 

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

 

Please visit us online at http://breakingfatepublishing.com

Jason Davis’ website can be found at http://jasonrdavis.com

 

Edited by: Kim Young, Kim’s Fiction Proofreading & Editing Services

Cover Illustration by: Jason R. Davis

Copyright 2017

**************

Chief Winston sat in his squad car on the outskirts of town. As he often did on most weeknights, he had tucked himself back amongst the trees, hidden from the road. He’d rather be asleep than pulling over speeders or harassing any of the local kids for whatever shenanigans they’d get into. Not that he expected too much on a Tuesday night, what with school having started back last month. Most kids would be home working on homework, but there were still the rambunctious few who wanted to burn off that summer energy before fall really kicked in.

There were always going to be the troubled teens. The kids who wouldn’t be at home doing homework. He knew those were the ones he should be harassing. He hated to profile, but that was the way it was. They would be the ones who vandalized houses, egged the squad car, or even slashed his tires. They were his problem children. Many nights, he would just keep a watchful eye on them, letting them have their occasional night of fun. It usually never went too far. When it did, well… He’d put a stop to it. He’d been in town long enough, nearly fifteen years, that when things escalated, he knew which parents to call. He also knew who would care and who wouldn’t. It sometimes just came down to who was worth the extra effort. Some kids just needed a swift kick in the butt.

So far, tonight had been an easy night. There was a cool breeze blowing through his window, which felt good. He was parked just off the road where the old highway ended. A person either drove into the cornfield at the end of the road or they turned toward town. It wasn’t a place to catch speeders, although he would occasionally see someone run the stop sign. Sometimes, he would pull them over, especially if he saw an out-of-state plate. Most times, though, he’d just watch them. As long as they weren’t driving recklessly, he would let them go.

Parked down the driveway of a private property, it was hard for anyone to see him from the road. It was owned by one of the local churches. Not one of the large Catholic congregations, but a smaller Pentecostal operating out of a little storefront on Main Street. They bought the property nearly five years ago and had been raising money so they could build themselves a nice church. Why? He didn’t know, but maybe it had something to do with how often they were broken into and vandalized. However,the church still hadn’t been built. In fact, there was nothing out there except the driveway leading back into the long rows of pine trees. It was such a great hiding spot, he could just sit, nod off a little, and let the night pass around him.

It was a peaceful place. Standard, Illinois, was that little town, the one that most people just drove through and barely saw. It had a little police force, but wasn’t large enough to have a full-time officer during the day. It consisted of himself, he worked from four p.m. to four a.m. during the week, and the weekend warrior who did the same shift Friday and Saturday. If anyone had any problems during the day, it could wait. At least that was how it used to be.

Ever since he brought on Rob Alletto as his weekend warrior, he felt sorry for the former Chicago cop, working in a bonus for him to be on call during the day. That didn’t mean much more than a hundred extra dollars in the paycheck. For the most part, it was nothing more than the occasional call to get a cat out of a tree. Rob was a good guy, so Dan wished he could do more for him. He hoped the rumors he heard about the man’s house about to go into foreclosure were just that. He would hate to lose him.

Dan closed his eyes, leaning his head back against the headrest. Another cool gust came in through the window, the sweet scent of pine coming with it. In the distance, he heard the sound of cars passing on the freeway. It was a soothing, rhythmic sound, like the white noise tapes he had used back when he’d been trying to quit smoking. All they did was help him sleep. Damned things hadn’t done crap to help him quit smoking. Served him right, though. That was what he got for allowing himself to get roped into one of those late-night infomercials.

He felt his skin prickle, the breeze dancing along the hairs on his arm. It was reminiscent of camping and lying under the stars. There was a time he had no cares in the world. He was just another kid camping with his folks. Some nights, when things were quiet and the campground was nearly empty, he would lay on a picnic table, enjoying the cool night air. His parents would find him there in the morning, fresh dew covering his body, but it was worth it just to enjoy that little breeze.

He felt himself slipping away. He knew he should try to push it off, not letting himself drift into the darkness of sleep. It was still early, and if he were ever caught sleeping, it would probably be his job. A night officer who didn’t stay awake at night wasn’t serving and protecting. He would never get caught, though. Not by anyone who cared enough to do anything. Most people already knew he occasionally napped on his shift, but nobody ever said anything.

His head bobbed, sleep being a thief trying to steal him away. With a jerk, he came to full attention again. He wanted to just doze off and drift away. It had been a long day. The mayor now felt Dan needed to be in town meetings with him, so time he would have used for sleep had been spent in a stuffy room listening to town officials drone on endlessly. So sleeping tonight would be justified. It was the mayor’s fault he was exhausted.

Too bad he just wasn’t wired that way. It wasn’t in his nature. When he did take naps, it was never due to a desire to get out of his work, but because he had worked too much.

Then there was also the part of him that just refused to let him do it. Not because of a work ethic, but because his body sensed he was not in his bed. He would start fading away, giving in to the abyss, when…BAM…his eyes would fly open and he would sit rigid in the driver’s seat. Tonight, he was tired enough not to care about his work ethic, but not tired enough that his body was ready to ignore the lack of a bed. As much as he wanted to drift away, his body wouldn’t let him.

He felt sleep try to take him again, his head becoming heavy and slowly slipping forward. His chin rested on his chest, body slumping forward, going slack. He could feel his butt slipping in the seat.

And then he jerked his head up, the whole world jolting back into place. His eyes opened and the fog of exhaustion faded away. He wasn’t sure, but it felt like the car had moved when he jumped.

That was it. He had tried to will himself to take a nap, but it just wasn’t happening. The best he had done was a little five-second power nap. He needed something to keep him awake.

It was funny how that little jerk out of a nap was enough to fuel a change in attitude. Where he was ready to just fade away a few minutes ago, he now had energy to get through the rest of the night. Of course, if he didn’t get moving, that would change in a few minutes.

He wasn’t going to catch anyone running that stop sign anyway, and had trespassed on the church’s property long enough.

They haven’t even made any effort to clear out the landscape. Yeah, that church is never going to get built.

 

* * * *

 

Minutes later, he drove down Main Street, the windows of his patrol car still down. It was just too nice a night not to enjoy the crisp air.

The town was so quiet and serene. This was the time of night he liked his job. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. There was never really a time he didn’t like his job. He felt like it would always be his calling to be the chief in a small town, and Standard had long since become his home. Yes, there were kids who caused him problems, slashing the tires on the squad car and his personal car, damaging his property. He’d been upset at the time, but it was all to be expected. People always blamed someone else for their mistakes, and being the chief made him an easy target.

However, this was the time of night everything just faded into a memory. Yesterday’s problems slid back into the forgotten realms of confused thoughts, and tomorrow’s misfortunes were yet to be conceived. This was that time where reality seemed to slip into a lost void, everyone holding their breath for it to come back.

It was also the time when it was easy to believe there was no one else in town. That he was the last survivor of some horrendous apocalypse. That all life had been snuffed out. He could just sit and watch the rest of the world fade away. This was the quiet time.

He looked at the dashboard clock. Just past two a.m. He only had two hours left, knowing he would probably end up parking just outside the Casey’s to listen to the drone of the distant highway. Although he went off duty at four, he often stuck around until the opening cashier came at five.

Nancy was an elderly woman who shouldn’t be opening the store by herself, so he enjoyed making sure she got in safely. To repay him, she’d fire up the coffee machine before doing any of her other morning procedures, and he would enjoy the first freshly brewed cup of the day. On the house, of course, since the little gas station wouldn’t open until six and she would spend the next hour getting the cash ready for the registers.

He pulled into the lot and slipped past the dark gas pumps. They were old and not well maintained, making him question the last time they had been inspected. He guessed it couldn’t have been too long ago. There had to be regulations on pumps, the older ones being inspected more often, right? He had his suspicions they had barely passed. The things needed to be upgraded, maybe getting the ones that accepted credit cards.

God help how every damn thing nowadays had to be digital. Digital card readers, and now, according to the news, they had to have those little chips in the card to make us more safe.

Yeah, then how the hell did hackers get my info from the damn hardware store? Whole damn world is getting techsized, but it’s all going to hell for it.

With the gas station being so far away from the interstate, the business had been downsized to the point they barely stayed open, most people just getting the fresh morning donuts and the excellent pizza. He wasn’t sure if that was going to be enough to keep it competitive with the nice new truck stop out by the interstate. It seemed like the little gas station’s days were numbered.

He hoped not. The town was quiet, but the few calls he did get often came from trouble out at the truck stop. Hell, if those damn cashiers would stop doing God knows what with the truckers out there, his life would be simpler. But with the truck stop came updated pumps, fast food, and a little larger grocery area for the people who didn’t want to drive fifteen miles to the closest full-sized store.

His town had started changing, but he wasn’t sure he wanted to get up to speed with where it was headed.

He eased the squad car into his normal spot by the front door, facing the road. He could see the little field across the street that gave way to the woods and the large mound of shale left from when the town had been a coal mining community. That was long before his and many of the residents’ time. That hill at the outer portion of town was a remnant of a long-ago era. It was a mound that would probably equate three blocks wide and six blocks long, rising high into the sky and covered in trees. People were forbidden from going to it, which meant everyone did. They happily ignored the No Trespassing signs so often, there were well-worn trails through the woods leading up to it and a wide path that twirled around the little mountain leading to the top.

Military remnants sat on top. He wasn’t sure what had been up there at one time, but he’d heard something about a military radio tower. He’d never looked into it. Whatever it had been, a partial wall of one building and a cement slab of another still remained. He assumed that were the reason for the winding path to the top, although most kids liked using the direct paths up the sides because they were quicker, more direct, and more challenging. If he were still young and didn’t have the early signs of arthritis creeping into his knees, he might have enjoyed the climb.

He looked up at the large, dark shape. It was a mountain of black blotting out the deep blue of the night sky. It was so dominant and so much a signature of what would otherwise be a non-descript small town in the Midwest, he doubted anyone would have thought twice about the little town without it.

He paused, squinting, noticing something that shouldn’t be there.

There was a light at the top. An orange flicker bright enough to be seen through the trees and tall enough to rise above them. It swayed with the small gusts of wind, dancing its own hypnotic dance. He sat watching it. Someone was up there.

Well, there went his peaceful night. Crap.

He pulled out of the lot and quickly made his way around to the other side of the street, parking at the entrance of the long path. It was time for him to put his climbing skills to the test. He knew it would be so much fun doing this crap in the dark. He’d make it easier by taking the longer, winding path. It would be less likely he’d sprain his ankle or something. Flashlight or not, there were roots that were sometimes hard to see.

He put the car in park, reached for the radio, and called it in. When he set the radio down and got out of the car, he didn’t realize it would be the last time anyone ever heard from him again.