The Shadow Box: Paranormal Suspense and Dark Fantasy Thriller Novels

by Travis Luedke

  The situation quickly degenerated to chaos. With the host unconscious, the party was effectively over. Nadia took charge. “We need to clear this place before it gets out of control. These kids are gonna get stupid when they find out Cleo’s passed out. We need to shut it down before the neighbors call the cops.”

  We presented a consolidated front, me, Anita, and Nadia, working together to usher everyone out of Cleo’s house. Nadia camped on the front door, watching everyone with her unnerving stare, making sure nothing valuable disappeared. It was midnight by the time we cleared the place and locked up. The house looked like the day after photos of a class five hurricane, and Cleo would probably have a kickin’ hangover in the morning, but nobody got in trouble and nothing major was stolen.

  Cleo slept alone, her virginity intact, mostly.

  * * * *

  Jeremiah 3:15

  “And I will give you shepherds in agreement with my heart, and they will certainly feed you with knowledge and insight.”

  Ezekiel 25:17

  “The path of the righteous man is beset on all sides by the inequities of the selfish and the tyranny of evil men. Blessed is he, who in the name of charity and good will, shepherds the weak through the valley of darkness, for he is truly his brother’s keeper and the finder of lost children. And I will strike down upon thee with great vengeance and furious anger those who would attempt to poison and destroy my brothers. And you will know my name is the Lord when I lay my vengeance upon thee.”

  Epilogue

  Monday, November 8th

  The whole gang got together for pizza: Richard, Nadia, Anita, and me. We sat in a booth near the arcade games at Chicos Pizza Parlor off Valley Road. We devoured an extra-large Hochstatter’s pizza, indisputably the best pizza in Moses Lake if not the whole northwest. It was named for the multigenerational Hochstatter family who’ve been patrons of Chicos for decades. Loaded with ridiculous poundage of pepperoni, Canadian bacon, bacon, sausage, hamburger, and a healthy layer of black olives and mushrooms – it was simply decadent. It was so greasy customers have complained they can actually feel their arteries hardening with each bite.

  Anita loved it. “You know, this could be a decent substitute for sex.”

  Richard choked on his pizza, “And what would you know about that?”

  “Ahm, nothing. I know nothing, I see nothing.” Anita suddenly found her pizza fascinating.

  I couldn’t recall a time I had ever done anything like this.

  It was like … a family.

  Richard had really been trying lately, trying to be a father. Anita was radiant. Sitting beside me, she glowed, a beautiful young woman. That chubby skater girl from a couple months ago had all but disappeared. Nadia not only had her second chance to make good with Mikhail, but she also had a family, my family. Well, she was my family, I guess.

  And here I sat, the glue binding us all together, the key to the equation. I had the best deal all the way around, surrounded by people who loved me unconditionally, who are always there when I need them.

  As the sinfully delicious pizza disappeared, leaving greasy hands and sated smiles, the topic of conversation centered around school. My grades were okay. They had never been spectacular, but not horrible either. Anita was doing damn good, all A’s and B’s, except for Algebra. We shared a mutual hatred of Algebra.

  Anita drifted into gossip mode. “Did you hear about Justin?” We all shook our heads and she continued, “He’s seeing a psychiatrist now. I guess he’s having paranoid delusions. The doctor put him on Seroquel to keep from going apeshit and Ambien so he can sleep at night.”

  I pinched Anita’s knee under the table as I teased, “Going apeshit, is that a psychiatric term?” Though disturbing and just plain wrong, I couldn’t help but chuckle.

  Nadia added her thoughts. “It’s a new diagnosis they invented special for Justin.”

  The girls giggled with knowing glances back and forth. Anita added another juicy tidbit, “Did you hear Rachelle is coming home next week? I guess they did a skin graft. She looks better, but she’ll never be a swimsuit model. They took a chunk out of her ass to graft onto her face.”

  Nadia joined in, “I always thought she was kind of a butthead.”

  Guffaws and horrified looks passed around the table, which morphed to snickers. Richard shook his head. “Isn’t that the girl who used to be our neighbor?”

  I nodded and quickly changed the subject. “So, how’s it going with the new job?”

  I eyed the cup in Richard’s hand as he swirled it round and round.

  He surveyed the contents of his cup and smiled. “Nine days clean and sober. Nothing but Sprite in here. Nadia told me it was time to quit, and I think she’s right.” He smiled at Nadia, and winked in conspiracy. “And the job is great. I passed the probation period at RSC, so I’m officially a company man. Got a little competition in the maintenance department, but it’s nothing I can’t handle.”

  “They hired another guy?”

  “The guy that was out on sick leave with a broken leg came back. I guess they’d rather have him organize tools and push a broom than sit on his butt and collect disability.”

  Nadia leaned over to whisper lightly in my ear. “Do you want me to take care of him again? I can make it look like an accident.”

  I choked on my soda. “Again? What did you do the first time?”

  She gave me the look and a shush, forefinger held to her lips. We were definitely revisiting this discussion later, in private.

  We returned home in Richard’s F-250 after dropping Anita off. Later, after my Dad went to bed, Nadia slipped into my room and under the covers to catch her nightly dose of basking in my aura, her arms and legs snaked around me tightly.

  She woke me up, and I looked to the dresser to see it was 10:30 p.m. She had redecorated my room with new photos. Next to my mother’s picture now stood a black cardboard foldout of my Homecoming portraits with Anita. On the other side of that was a picture in a silver frame, a gift from Nadia – displaying a Halloween photo of me, Anita, and Nadia, all in costume, on Cleo’s couch. Nadia sat on my lap, her pale, skinny legs draped across Anita’s lap. Smiling serenely, she was so beautiful, in a gothic, morbid way. The white face paint and red lipstick didn’t hide the joy in her face. Every time I saw that picture, I felt like smiling.

  It was my new favorite picture, and I had it on Facebook too, right next to the infamous video of Justin at the McDonalds playcenter.

  I almost fell back asleep in Nadia’s embrace, but then remembered her comment from earlier. “Hey, what the hell were you talking about at Chicos? What did you do to that guy at RSC?”

  She looked down, busted. “Nothing really, I just pulled a lever and the steel thingy fell on his leg. He should have had it propped up. He didn’t follow safety procedures. Heavy equipment is very dangerous.”

  “I don’t give a crap about safety procedures. You broke his leg? Please tell me you’re joking.”

  Nadia explained with strained patience, “Your Dad really needed that job, so I made sure RSC needed a new maintenance man.” The simple yet vicious logic curdled my belly.

  I snapped at her, “That’s horrible! You can’t go around breaking legs and burning people with acid. You just can’t!”

  “I know, I know! Enough already! We’ve had this discussion several times. It happened before we made our agreement. I promised I’m not gonna hurt anyone. Why do you think I asked first? I asked what you wanted. It was only a suggestion.”

  Petulant brat.

  I scowled at her. “The answer is NO. That’s not what I want. Leave the poor guy alone. He’s got enough problems with his damn broken leg.”

  Nadia burrowed down into the covers and mumbled, “Fine.” After a moment she popped her head back up to look me in the eyes, “So, are there any other issues we need to discuss, anyone else causing problems for the Evans family?”

  “No. Not that I’m aware of.” I paused for a couple minutes. She kept starin
g expectantly, like she knew I was holding back. After some hesitation I finally admitted, “Well … there is this one Algebra teacher that’s a real asshole, he assigns way too much homework.”

  She perked up immediately and leaned in close with an intensely hopeful expression, “Hmm interesting. Tell me more. Do I get permission to hurt him?”

  ###

  Join Travis Luedke's newsletter for free books:

  http://www.twluedke.com/join-mailing-list-for-free-ebooks/

  More from Travis Luedke:

  http://www.twluedke.com/ebooks-for-sale/

  COUNCIL OF PEACOCKS

  -Book One: Activation Series-

  By Joseph Murphy

  Copyright © 2013 by Joseph Murphy

  All rights reserved. This book or any portion thereof may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the publisher except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Council of Peacocks Press

  Second Edition, 2013

  ISBN 978-0-9919503-0-0

  M Joseph Murphy's Official Website

  “The risks of too much knowledge are far greater than the menace of too little. With knowledge comes responsibility and power – two things for which the race is not yet ready.”

  Alice Bailey, Initiation, Human and Solar

  “To Paradise, the Arabs say, Satan could never find the way. Until the peacock led him in.”

  Charles Godfrey Leland, The Peacock

  Dedication

  To Rob Welch.

  Council of Peacocks would never have seen the light of day without you.

  Chapter One

  Wisdom fell fifty feet and landed face-first on concrete. His skull bounced off the sidewalk twice. Then he lay still. He kept his eyes closed. Each breath brought stabbing pain. At least three ribs were broken. Probably more. Still, it was over: the Djinn was dead.

  Nearby, a little girl screamed.

  He blinked repeatedly, forcing his eyes to focus. Misty shapes solidified and he realized he was no longer in the underground fortress of the Council. Cold mist fell on his face. The air rumbled with the sound of rushing water. He realized where he was.

  “Niagara Falls? How the hell…?”

  He pushed himself up on weak arms and looked around. Snow-covered ice blanketed everything. Spray from the waterfall froze on the faces and jackets of the crowd of tourists gathered around him. They stared at him, repulsed. Looking down, he saw why. It was impossible to tell where tattered flesh ended and tattered suit began: both were the same shade of red. Fortunately, aside from the ribs, nothing seemed to be broken. It was small consolation. Everything had gone so wrong.

  Well, not everything.

  “I won,” he said. The Djinn was dead and the Council defeated. His back muscles spasmed as he forced himself to his feet. “Any idea what the date is? Don’t worry, I won’t bite.”

  A woman with overly-bleached blond hair took off running before he finished speaking. Two men in their early twenties stared at him and took a collective step back.

  “Jesus, I said I wouldn’t bite.” Wisdom stretched his arms, groaning as tattered muscles and tendons slipped back into place. “Now tell me what day it is before I change my mind about the biting thing.”

  “Is there a problem here?”

  He turned to face a thick-armed police officer with a graying crew cut.

  “There won’t be a problem if someone tells me what the bloody date is.” Wisdom spoke through clenched jaws. “Did they outlaw common courtesy while I was away?”

  “You’ve been away, eh?” The police officer scratched his jaw and stared openly at Wisdom. Then he exhaled slowly, an internal conversation flashing across his face. “You’re in pretty rough shape there. Maybe it would be best if you come with me.”

  Wisdom clenched his fists; orange fire flared in his eyes.

  The police officer rose off the ground two feet, clutching his throat as if being choked by invisible hands.

  “Maybe,” Wisdom said, “it would be best if you just answered the damn question.”

  “It’s January 15th!”

  “Four months,” he said. “We fought for four months? That definitely explains why I'm exhausted.” Wisdom smiled down at the young girl who had shouted the date and relaxed his fists. The police officer dropped, reaching for his gun even as he struggled back to his feet.

  “This is tiresome.” Wisdom waved his hand and the man stopped moving.

  Everyone within seven hundred feet stopped moving.

  A hush fell on Queen Victoria Park. The only sound was the rush of the Niagara River racing over the escarpment to slam against the rocks below. Some things even Wisdom's power couldn't stop. He walked up wide stone steps toward the nearest hotel.

  Something moved at the edge of the temporal distortion. He turned slowly toward it. Near the entrance to an alleyway, behind a hot dog stand, a glint of gold flashed. Just a speck of light. He tried to focus on whatever was moving in the shadows, but the harder he concentrated, the more the image blurred.

  “I'm seeing things,” he said. “Must be more drained than I thought.” He rubbed his eyes and walked away from the mystery.

  Each step was painful. Shoeless, his raw, open flesh and exposed bones left a trail of bloody footprints behind him. Snow crunched underfoot, the sound echoing back from parked cars and storefronts. Past the edge of his displaced time, children pulled at parents’ hands, urging them into arcades and haunted houses.

  “Hasn't changed much,” he said under his breath. “Haven't been here in years. Still the same flashy lights and gaudy tourist traps. Looks like I’m not the only thing keeping this city stuck in time.”

  He slipped through the revolving doors of a hotel. People in winter coats scattered. Two heavily-muscled men in crisp white security uniforms marched toward him, clubs in hand. A balding man behind the front desk reached for the phone.

  “Put that down.” The concierge went rigid and did as he was told.

  Then Wisdom turned to the security guards. “And you two, go home. Consider this a spa day.” The stern intimidation on each guard’s face was replaced by vacant numbness. In unison, they nodded and walked out the front door.

  Wisdom sighed and limped the rest of the way to the front desk.

  “Now. Please. Give me the best room you have. And I don’t care if it’s occupied. Just give me the key. I’ll take care of anyone in the room. Also, I want clothes.” Wisdom reached over the counter for a pen and pad of paper. Blood dripped from his forearms onto a pile of credit card receipts behind the counter. “These are my measurements. Charge everything to my room. And send up food, too. One of everything on the menu.”

  The front desk clerk nodded slowly, the same vacant look on his face. He programmed a keycard and handed it to Wisdom.

  “Thank you.” Wisdom bowed his head. Keycard in hand, he went to the bank of elevators on the other side of the lobby. People stared at him and talked amongst themselves, but no one else approached him. At the elevators, he pushed the button and waited. And waited. He grunted and pushed the button several more times.

  “I can kill a Djinn yet, despite all my power, I’m stuck waiting on elevators. My life is brimful of subtext.” While the car descended, he studied his reflection in the mirrored walls, finally seeing the extent of his injuries. He was a large man, nearly seven feet tall, with thick, well-developed muscles. His skin was normally dark brown, the color of wet dirt. It was impossible to tell in his current state. Large chunks of his flesh were missing, revealing wet gristle and bone. His black eyes glowed reddish-orange, adding an extra element of menace. “I look like day-old road kill.”

  Eventually, the elevator arrived. Mercifully, the other guests let him ride up alone. He rode to the 16th floor and found the room listed on the keycard. It was a two-story presidential suite complete with whirlpool. Thankfully, it was unoccupied.

  He headed straight for the bathroom. He pulled off t
he remnants of his clothes, careful not to pull away flesh. They fell in wet piles on the tiled floor.

  “I pity the bastard who has to clean this up,” he said as he turned on the shower. “Speaking of poor bastards, I wonder what happened to the Anomalies. Did Elaine get them out? I should call Echo.” He shook the thought away. Whatever had happened to the Anomalies, he was in no shape to deal with it now. He'd been gone for four months. A few more days wouldn't change anything. All that mattered was Echo, and he felt certain she was fine. She was a survivor.

  He stepped under the water, hissing in pain. Loose pieces of flesh flapped under the spray. The shower quickly filled with blood. He thought of biting his lip to brace against screaming but decided against it. In his current state, it might come off. He leaned against the shower wall and stayed under the water until it ran cool. Then he turned the taps off and stood on shaky knees.

  Looking at the pools of blood covering the floor, Wisdom grunted. To get back he would have step through the mess he'd made. He waved his hand and the blood disappeared. Then, so as not to make his actions futile, he cauterized his wounds by will. The exertion was regrettable. He fell to his knees for a moment until his strength returned.

  “Guess I'd better not attempt to heal myself just yet. It'll probably take at least a week before I'm back to my old self. I can't risk heading to one of my offices either, not before I know what I'm heading into. The Council may be defeated but they have allies.”

  Pushing himself back to his feet, he walked to the king-sized bed and slipped beneath the covers. He turned on the TV, flipping channels until he found an infomercial about a complex food processor. Completely engrossed, he watched for several minutes.