by A.C. Deen
Awakening
The Talisman Series - Book 1
A. C. Deen
Awakening
By A. C. Deen
Copyright © 2016 A. C. Deen
All Rights Reserved
For my mom and husband. Thank you for always believing in me.
Disclaimer
This book is a work of fiction. The places and events mentioned were all created by the author’s imagination. All of the characters in this story are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, 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
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Epilogue
Awakening
Prologue
I will never forget that day. It was a day unlike any other. All of my memories before it have now disappeared, or rather they have become hazy, like a dream that you wake from and try to replay in your mind, but no longer have access to it. While I cannot remember my past, everything from that day forward I can remember in vivid detail. Let me tell you about it.
Chapter 1
It was autumn, but not at all cold and blustery. It was the kind of day you could feel on your cheeks and refreshed your lungs. It was spectacularly cool, crisp, and invigorating. I woke up early that day and decided that I would forego breakfast and visit The Spark coffee shop for a delicious cappuccino. I was on my way to the library. The Spark was deserted, I was the only customer in the whole place. I meandered up to the counter and ordered my usual beverage of choice from the handsome barista Jonah. Jonah was one of those people who emanated charisma out of every pore. I was never quite sure if he liked me or if he was just being nice to me because he was my best friend June’s older brother. I was a poor judge of character and even more so when it involved someone who was so self-assured. Even though I had known him for practically my whole life, he still made me nervous.
Cappuccino in hand, I continued on foot to my intended destination, the library. Turning the corner, I fiddled with the plastic tab on the top of my coffee cup which refused stay open. To get to the library, one has to walk through Swan Park. It’s a nice park, nothing extraordinary. There are squirrels and pigeons and blue spruce trees. I have to admit, I really do like pigeons. I think they might be my favorite bird, with their inquisitive eyes and interesting voices.
On this particular day, I took my super secret shortcut. I veered off from the beaten path and walked down a hill until I reached the underside of the park bridge. I would often go there when I wanted to admire the pigeons. Maybe I shouldn’t have stopped. If I could take it back now, maybe I would. I’m not sure. I don’t even know anymore. I stared up at the pigeons flitting about under the bridge.
It was then that I heard a sequence of quick footsteps running up behind me. They were light and fanciful. I turned around to see who it was. I was astonished to find a young girl with flaxen curls, cherub like features, and a dubious look on her face. Our eyes locked and then she spoke. She asked me what I was doing under the park bridge all alone. I assured her that I was a very grown up seventeen-year-old, who was about to start university in a week, and that if she, a young girl of maybe seven was old enough to be alone in the park, well I certainly was too. She scoffed at my retort, then extended her arm and took my hand. Her skin was so cold. That is when everything went blank.
I never did make it to the library. I was intending to borrow some reference books on vegetarian cooking. I had been gaining interest in vegetarianism but wanted to do some research first. I always analyzed my decisions fully before committing. I was in no way spontaneous but that was all about to change.
When I awoke I was still under the bridge, flat on my back. It was night time. The path light above me was blinding. I felt like my retinas were being scorched. I turned my head away. My neck muscles were stiff and sore. I could barely move. I contemplated what happened. Did I fall and hit my head? My head didn’t feel especially painful. I laid there for a while longer trying to get my eyes to cooperate. I stared off into the distant night. That’s when I realized something was terribly wrong. I could see in the dark. I could see the green grass, the leaves on the trees, and the stars. I saw with more clarity than I normally would even during the daytime. I turned my head away. I felt unsure of what was going on and was feeling very uneasy. I closed my eyes tightly. I figured that I was either dreaming or hallucinating. Perhaps someone drugged me. They must have.
I couldn’t remain lying there any longer. I ground my fingers into the rough rubble below me and pushed my body up, with all the force I could muster, until I was in a half seated position. I scooted over and propped myself up against a leg of the bridge. I let my head hang down. I had to avoid looking into the distance until this weird drug wore off. I closed my eyes and tried to gather my racing thoughts. While sitting in the quiet, it dawned on me that I was holding my breath. I used to do that when I was going to have an anxiety attack. I waited patiently for the moment to arise when I couldn’t hold my breath any longer. Time passed but the moment never came. I tried to take a deep breath in, but I couldn’t. I was not able to breathe, but I wasn’t suffocating. I felt fine. How can I not need to breathe? I was shaking, incredibly confused, and scared by this point.
I wondered if maybe I had died. I lifted my right hand up from the leg of my jeans and shakily brought it to my throat and felt for my pulse. If I really was dead then I wouldn’t have had a pulse, I thought to myself. I felt around on my throat just below my jaw. I used to run track in high school and never had a problem finding my pulse before. That day however, I just couldn’t. I switched hands and really concentrated. All I could feel was stillness. I had no pulse.
So, if I really was dead, how would I know for sure? I was still in my body. Don’t ghosts typically abandon their bodies in favor of a more transparent version of their former selves? I glanced down at my wristwatch, it was nine o'clock. I decided my best course of action would be to get up, keep my head down, and walk back to The Spark. Jonah would likely be closing up for the night. He always worked a split shift on Tuesdays. I wasn’t a stalker, I swear, just a lonely girl with a penchant for coffee made by the man of her dreams. I needed to find out if Jonah could see me, to prove to myself that I wasn’t in fact a ghost.
Chapter 2
I pulled my knees up into my chest and pushed my feet firmly into the ground. I pressed my back against the smooth steel leg of the bridge and pushed up with my legs until I was standing. I grabbed the bridge leg and steadied myself. I kept telling myself that I was perfectly fine. I actually felt pretty good. The stiff muscles in my neck had eased up and were no longer bothering me. I wasn’t cut or bruised in any way. I wondered if perhaps I had just fainted. Do people faint and then stay unconscious for an entire day? It wasn’t something I had ever heard of happening before.
I reminded myself that I had to stay focused if I was going to get to The Spark before Jonah went home. It was already ten minutes after nine. I kept my head down and started to walk. I picked up my pace and started to run. I was fast. Faster than I was before. I knew how fast I could normally run because I would time myself during track practice. It took me barely a minute to reach The Spark. It was incredible, I could
hardly believe it. Such a distance would normally have taken me at least fifteen minutes to walk, less if I was running, but definitely longer than one minute. At any rate, I had made it there. I stood outside the door and contemplated running right back the way that I came, but I didn’t. I had to find out the truth, was I alive?
I knew the front door would be locked, so I walked around to the back. Jonah would likely be in the office doing the cash out for the night. I grabbed the door handle and pulled, the door came open with ease. I slipped inside. The lights were off, but I could see perfectly. The door to the office was closed, but I could see faint light emanating from around the door. Jonah was in there. I called out his name, hoping that he would hear me and come out to see what was going on, but he didn’t come.
I opened the office door. Three piles of receipts and a small stack of cash were laid neatly on the desk. Where was Jonah, I wondered. Was I trapped in an alternate universe where all of the living and breathing human beings had disappeared? I sat down at the desk facing the door in an attempt to gather my thoughts. Then I heard footsteps from outside the room and down the hall. I listened carefully, they were getting closer. I noticed that I could also hear two more sounds in addition to the footsteps. I could hear breathing and a heart beating. My mind began to race. With every nearing footstep a feeling inside me began to swell. It was a desire deeper than anything I had ever felt before. Every cell of my body yearned to be close to him. I wanted to touch him, I wanted to taste him, and I wanted to hurt him. I had to get out! In a split second I stood up, ran out of the office, and out the back door. I kept running. I ran until I was back in Swan Park.
Chapter 3
What was happening to me? Why did I want to hurt Jonah? I knew deep inside that I didn’t just want to hurt him. I wanted to consume him. It didn’t make any sense to me. I was back standing under the park bridge, far away from The Spark, but the urge was still very present. It was a hunger that I didn’t know how to describe. I thought about it for a while. Did I feel like a jaguar? No, I didn’t want to eat raw meat. Maybe I was more like a wolf? No, the idea of tearing out the belly of a beast made me nauseous. I pondered for a minute. I thought of another animal. What if I was like Darwin’s Finch. I remembered our biology teacher Mrs. Bronson teaching us about this bird. It wasn’t like any other type of bird I had heard of before. This little bird would fly around searching out a larger bird to use as a host. When it found a suitable host, it would proceed to peck a hole on the other bird’s back and then drink its blood. That was what I wanted to do to Jonah. I wanted to drink his blood. I needed to. It was all I could think about.
I laid my body down on a piece of grass under the bridge and stared up at the pigeons who clearly must have called it a night as they weren’t cooing or flitting around. I listened harder. I could hear them breathing. I could hear hearts beating. The sound intensified. I could hear them with every fiber of my being. I stood up. I remembered that one of the nests was situated on a ledge that was lower than the others. I could easily climb the bridge leg and reach that nest. I placed my foot on one of the bolts sticking out of the bridge leg. I held on tight with my hands and hoisted my other foot up onto a higher bolt. I started to climb. I could see the nest sitting precariously on the edge of the ledge. It was so close, I could touch it.
My body was no longer clumsy. I was agile, nimble, and dare I say even stealthy. I listened. The pigeon was in his nest breathing steadily. He was sleeping. I reached my left hand into the nest. I felt feathers and I grabbed the bird tightly. Wings began to flap and I lost my balance. I tumbled down onto my back and smacked my head hard against the ground below. I dropped the bird and quickly brought my hands to the back of my head. There was a large gash. I could feel it. I looked at my hands, I wasn’t bleeding. How could I have a cut without any blood? Then I remembered, how could I have blood when I didn’t have a beating heart. As I held my hand to the gash on my head I felt something very strange. I felt the skin start to move, migrating towards the cut. My body was healing itself. I pulled my hand away in shock. I felt again, the cut was gone. It was as if it had never happened.
I sat there quite stunned for a moment. Beside me, I heard a groan, it was the pigeon. His breathing was labored. I must have crushed him when I grabbed him so forcefully from the nest. I rolled onto my stomach and got up onto all fours. The desire was back. I crawled over to the pigeon, picked him up and examined his body. His feathers were pure white. He was a dove that had taken up residence with pigeons. I brought his small body to my mouth. My teeth sank deep into his flesh and I drank. As I drank, I cried. I had wanted to be a vegetarian for God’s sake. Now every fiber of my being was telling me to drink blood from my favorite bird. I couldn’t stop myself, and I didn’t until there was nothing left. The pigeon’s body went limp, devoid of the life that just minutes before it had possessed. Everything around me fell quiet, still, and suffocating. I was a monster.
I sat down on the grass and turned away from the bird. I was shaking. What had I done? Why wasn’t I able to control myself? I had never felt such an insatiable desire before. I sat still for awhile until I became awash with calm. It was midnight now, but I was wide awake. In fact, I felt incredibly energized. I thought about going home. I remembered how I felt when Jonah came near me. I feared that I might feel the same way when I was near my mom and brother, David. But where else could I go? I didn’t trust myself around people but I couldn’t hide out in the park forever. It would be daylight in seven hours and I couldn’t risk someone finding me, for their sake. I wasn’t a killer. I had to get this under control.
Chapter 4
I thought about my options and realized that there were very few places I could go. My grandparents had a cottage just a few miles north of town. On one side of their cabin was Reindeer Lake and on the other was boreal forest. It was remote and secluded. If I could get my thirst under control anywhere, it would be there. I wouldn’t have to worry about running into my grandparents because they had gone away for the winter. I stood up. I walked slowly from the park to my house. My car was parked there. It wasn’t a long walk. I guess there’s no such thing as a long walk when you live in Reindeer Woods, a town of only five thousand people. Luckily, my car keys were in my pocket so I wouldn’t have to go in the house. When I reached my car I opened the door quietly and slipped into the driver’s seat. I thought for a moment. I reached over to my glove box and pulled the lever. I rummaged around until I procured a pencil and a piece of paper. I had to leave a note for my mom. I didn’t want her to worry about me.
Mom,
I’m staying at June’s tonight and maybe tomorrow night too.
Love you,
Ellie
I hated lying to my mom, but I was dangerous. I threw the pencil in the back seat, opened the car door and ran up to the house. I stealthily opened the mailbox and slipped the note inside. My mom always checked the mailbox every morning, so she would surely find my note. I walked back to the car, got in, closed the door, and started the engine. I drove away quickly but quietly, so as not to alert my sleeping family.
I guess I should formally introduce myself to you now. My name is Eleanor, but I go by Ellie. Don’t ever call me Lenore. My grandma who is also named Eleanor goes by Lenore. I guess my mom thought it would be cute to name me after my grandmother. I guess she was right. I love my name and I love my grandma even more. I feel that because we share the same name, we are linked in a way that nobody else in our family can be. Now that the introductions are out of the way, let’s get back to the story.
I drove out of town and turned onto the number four highway. I was on my way to the cottage. It would be good to stay at my grandparent’s cabin. At least I wouldn’t feel totally alone. Grandma Lenore loved pink peppermints. Maybe she had left some in our secret hiding spot, the drawer by the kitchen sink. I was hopeful. The night was dark, but I could see just fine. I pulled off the main highway and onto the dirt road that would take me to the cabin. The sound of
the gravel beneath my tires was nostalgic and comforting. I turned into the driveway, parked the car, and killed the ignition. I stepped out of the car and walked up to the front door. I bent down and felt around under the siding of the house. That’s where grandpa kept a spare key hidden. I found the key and unlocked the door. I opened the door and stepped inside. I flicked on the lights, out of habit, not because I needed them. Everything looked the same, just how it always had. It was me who was different. I ran to the drawer by the kitchen sink and searched for the tin of pink peppermints. I found them. I popped open the lid and snatched a peppermint up and into my mouth. My whole mouth started to burn immediately. It felt like battery acid. I spit the mint out into the sink. I picked up the tin of mints to examine them up close. They appeared normal enough. I dumped them out onto the counter to get a better look. Along with the mints, fell a piece of paper, folded into quarters. I unfolded it and read.
My dearest darling granddaughter Ellie,
I hope this letter finds you well. I just knew you would find it in the peppermint tin, our little secret. If you’re reading this then you have found your way to the cottage. I’m glad you are here. You will be safe here. What I am going to tell you will not come as a surprise. You are changing Ellie. I’m sure you are wondering how any of this can be real. I want you to know that it is very real. I know that it is real because it happened to me. There are many things that you don’t know about me, not because I didn’t want to tell you, but because it wasn’t the right time. The time has come now for me to share my secrets with you. I have known you for your whole life, but you haven’t known me for all of mine.
