The Shadow Box: Paranormal Suspense and Dark Fantasy Thriller Novels

by Travis Luedke

  ‘Okay. I was concerned, that is all. It is easy to get burnt out when you work too much.’

  She gave Roy a prickly stare; she didn’t need her employee questioning her ability to work. There was enough on her mind (the mind she thought she was losing after the day’s events).

  ‘Roy,’ she said. ‘Get back to work.’

  He nodded and offered a concerned half smile before he left the office. Juliet gathered her thoughts until she couldn’t stay in the room any longer. She hoped she wouldn’t permanently fear her office; it was one of her favourite places to be, working or not.

  As she left the café, she sensed all eyes on her. She held her chin high, managed appropriate smiles, and expressed confident farewells to her employees and customers.

  That evening, she watched the local news. It covered a story on a police chase in Amiton. The police had followed a vehicle due to suspicious behaviour, and when they signalled the driver to pull over, he sped away instead. The pursued driver gained distance by cutting through the upper grounds, but had crashed into a business stall, flipped the car, and came to a stop. It turned out the driver was drunk, and in his intoxicated state he’d panicked and thought driving through the upper grounds was a good idea. He’d been treated for a head wound sustained in the crash, but no major injuries.

  As Juliet eyed the television screen, she experienced considerable bitterness towards the drunk driver. She’d had the strangest day of her life, and he was to blame.

  Chapter Three

  ‘STOP SHOWING OFF your perfect white teeth!’ Janet Morgan, one of the full-timers at Creaky Crystals, playfully slapped Nick’s arm. ‘You know I want mine whitened.’

  Rubbing his arm as if it hurt, Nick said, ‘What are you on about?’

  ‘You’ve been smiling all day; you’re like a walking dental advert.’

  ‘Should I take that as a compliment … ?’

  ‘Whatever floats your boat, Nick.’ Janet laughed to herself. ‘You’re an odd boy, aren’t you? I’d have wangled the day off if I was almost hit by a car, but you’re having the best day of your life. Oddball.’

  He was eager to go home after saving the woman’s life, but he wanted to work his hours; or, more accurately, he needed to work them. ‘Maybe I’m just happy the car didn’t hit me.’

  ‘Maybe you’re a strange boy ... Anyway, why were you in the upper grounds? You don’t come from that direction.’ She goggled at him suspiciously.

  ‘I was just looking at the view from up there.’

  ‘Hmmm. That confirms it: You’re a weirdo.’ Janet stuck out her tongue, then dawdled off towards the jewellery section.

  Still smiling, Nick thought about the incident. He’d given a statement to the police, omitting the part about the woman he’d saved; she’d hurried off, and he didn’t think anyone had seen her almost get hit. Hiding things from the police was a bad idea, and he wasn’t sure why he did it, but he couldn’t take it back now. And there was a more interesting matter to dwell on.

  The rest of the shift dragged, but when it was finally over, he made his way home as if his life depended on it.

  Excitement oozed out of him. After having a real ‘flash-forward,’ he was infused with a sense of importance. What did it mean?

  He spent that evening thinking about it. Was it a random experience? Is it an ability I can learn to use at will? Am I different, special somehow? If so, are there others like me? No conclusions were drawn, but he slept easier that night, feeling like his life had purpose.

  Across the weekend, he read through books on Celtic, classical, and Norse mythology. He researched on the Internet how to practise psychic powers. He read about oracles, prophets, clairvoyants, seers, and shamans. Some people used cards, dice, crystal balls, or other objects for divination, but he also read about people who saw the future in their dreams and through guided meditation.

  It wasn’t wise to be on the Internet for too long, in case he went over the limit again and got charged more (again), so he shut down the computer.

  Half the material he’d found was stuff he had knowledge of from past research. Because he’d considered becoming a Wiccan before, he already kind of believed in psychic abilities, and also that cheesy word: magic. But seeing was different from believing.

  He tried to meditate and get into a trance-like state to bring on another vision, but nothing happened. He was having a hard time with the whole fate/destiny side of it. How can I see the future if it isn’t planned out? Or maybe it was a probable future I saw, based on people’s choices. And if everyone has a destined path, then did I change that woman’s fate by saving her?

  After a while he gave up trying to force a vision. It was too easy to get carried away and act like he was in a fantasy film.

  Languidly, he tidied his bedroom, which he hadn’t corrected since wrecking it a few days before. He took his time, not allowing it to affect his easy mood.

  The detached bungalow he lived in was on the outskirts of Amiton. From the front door, there was a hallway that divided the house down the middle. To the front left was the snug room where he would sit and read, watch films, or play games. To the back left was the bathroom. On the front right was the living room, which he rarely used, as it served the same purposes as the snug. And to the back right was the bedroom. The hallway led to the rear of the house, where the kitchen and back door to the garden were.

  His dad had helped him choose the bungalow, paid a sum towards the deposit, and would occasionally contribute to the bills. He never asked for anything in return, and Nick assumed it made his dad feel good to assist financially—maybe to make up for the absence of Nick’s mother.

  When Nick had first moved in he’d had a full-time job, but, unable to handle the stress in his life at the time, he’d walked out on it. Now all he could find was part-time work, and each month was a struggle to pay bills. To bring in extra money, he’d considered renting out the living room as a bedroom, but it was one of those ideas that were easy to brush aside, no matter the sense it made.

  His bedroom was the only decorated part of the house. Everything else had been left in the state it was purchased in. There were bare walls, holes in places, Nick had minimal furniture, and there was just too much DIY to even think about.

  It was a few years ago when he’d moved in, and it should have all been in shape by now. But after his wages were spent on bills and essentials each month, he never had enough left over to decorate. He’d given up. As long as the place was liveable, then what did it matter? There was no one to impress but himself. And for entertainment he was lucky to still have some books and game consoles from when he lived with his dad and brothers.

  On Monday he received a phone call from his brother Tom.

  ‘Nick?’

  ‘Hi, Tom.’

  ‘How have you been? You haven’t come to see us lately.’

  ‘Everything’s good, thanks, you? I might come by next weekend.’ He supposed he couldn’t avoid visiting his dad and brothers forever.

  Nick had two brothers: Tom and Tommy. They were twins and both eighteen. Their names could be confusing to other people, but Nick had always been able to tell them apart. Because their parents hadn’t been expecting twins, they’d already decided on names—if the baby was a girl, Sarah; if a boy, Thomas. So with the surprise of two baby boys, they had settled on Tom and Tommy Crystan.

  The twins had a strong relationship. They seemed to have the same hobbies, interests, taste in clothes, and even the same taste in women. But Tommy, the more confident of the two, had always been the centre of attention; he picked the trends, Tom followed.

  ‘Cool,’ said Tom, and there was a long silence.

  ‘So, any reason you called me?’ His brothers didn’t contact him often, usually making their dad relay messages. Which was awkward.

  ‘Yeah … I wanted to talk to you about something, but not over the phone.’

  ‘Okay. Well, what about the weekend when I come over?’

  ‘
No, not at Dad’s house either.’ Tom sounded almost guilty, or maybe ashamed.

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘I don’t feel comfortable talking about it at home. It’s personal.’

  ‘You can come over here sometime, if you like?’ Nick suggested, intrigued. What could be so personal that he can’t even speak to Tommy about it?

  ‘Thank you, Nick.’

  ‘That’s alright. It will have to be in a week or two if you can wait? I’ll be working a lot of shifts this week, because of how busy it’ll be.’

  ‘Yeah, I can wait. Oh, I know.’ Tom huffed, crackling the line a little. ‘Amiton’s crazy this time of year.’

  Lansin Island was the place to be for Halloween, or Samhain as some of the locals called it. The entire town was decorated. There were bloated pumpkin faces, hollow-eyed ghosts, gangly spiders, and frowning skulls. It was a festive overload, as if decorated by a child who had been given free rein to top his ice cream with sprinkles—Amiton received a Halloween-sprinkles overdose. Public rituals were performed, as well as a play enacting a wild hunt with the Lord of the Dead, otherworldly beings, fairies, and animals. Clairvoyants’ tents were set up where people would pay to know their futures.

  It was mainly aimed at tourists, but almost everyone in Amiton and on Lansin Island celebrated Halloween. In the town centre, it was normal to wear a costume for the entire day; most shop assistants did, and Mora insisted that her staff dress up too. In the evening there were firework displays at Wood Park, and other plays with special lighting effects and fire manipulation: dancing, spinning, twirling.

  ‘Yeah, it is busy, but I love it!’ Nick said. ‘Thank you for lending me Big Fish, by the way.’ He had originally been surprised to discover Tom liked the film; it definitely wasn’t one he could imagine Tommy enjoying. He loved both of his brothers, but until recently, he’d assumed they were not just physically twins but also mind-twins, with personalities that reached as far as the local pub.

  ‘That’s alright. So I’ll see you next weekend. Bye.’

  ‘See you.’ Nick hung up.

  He contemplated what costume to wear to work on Halloween but became distracted; ‘the veil between the two worlds’ was supposedly thinnest on Halloween, apparently making divination easier. He smiled, becoming antsy and excited over the idea of having another premonition, and then spent the rest of the day reading books in the snug, only stopping to use the bathroom, make hot chocolate, and eat.

  The next day at work, he spoke with another part-timer, Michael Welding.

  ‘What are you going to dress as on Monday?’ Nick asked.

  Without a pause, Michael replied, ‘I’m going to be a vampire.’

  ‘You were a vampire last year.’

  ‘Yeah … I like vampires.’

  ‘So does everyone, apparently.’

  ‘That’s ’cause they’re awesome.’ Michael was pretty simple, straight to the point, and ridiculously good-looking.

  Nick thought of him as one of those ‘pretty boys,’ and if he had to choose to look like anyone else, it would be him. He was eighteen, had mousey coloured hair, pale blue eyes, and his toned body gained definition (and recognition) through the tight tops he wore.

  Nick reckoned he must have been invisible next to Michael.

  ‘Fair enough,’ said Nick. ‘How’s college going?’ Michael was on the same Diploma in Construction college course as Tom and Tommy.

  While he waited for his colleague to answer, Nick gazed out the front of the store. It rained steadily outside, leaving droplets and trails on the glass.

  ‘It’s good. We’re doing something about surveying.’ Michael slurred his words. He might have had the face of an angel, but he had the voice of a troll; it screamed out ‘I’m unintelligent!’

  ‘Good to hear.’

  ‘What’re you going to wear Monday, Nick?’

  ‘I haven’t decided yet.’ And on that answer, the conversation died. They returned to work.

  There wasn’t much to do at Creaky Crystals that Tuesday. Even though it was a large store, everything was in order. It was the biggest, and one of the only, tourist shops in the lower grounds. On the front was a prodigious sign with ‘Creaky Crystals’ etched in cream letters against dark oak.

  Mora didn’t need to employ as many people as she did, but Nick gathered that she liked the company, and also, it was fairly unpredictable how busy the store would get; sometimes there were waves of customers and then there were long reposes.

  Amiton locals were a chatty bunch, so at least one staff member was usually spent in conversation. The most notorious blabbermouth was Alice Bicker. She was a regular customer, but not a Pagan of any variety. She simply loved the stock.

  Nick liked Alice, but she had an irritating habit of stringing the most grating phrases together. He once heard her start a sentence with: ‘To be honest, I’m not going to lie, but at the end of the day, the fact of the matter is …’

  Urgghhh, painful! He hadn’t bumped into her for a while now and wasn’t too bothered about that.

  Inside Creaky Crystals, there were two tills behind glass counters at opposite ends of the store, in order to get through more sales at once. The regular stock included crystals, crystal balls, hand-carved ornaments, photo frames, coloured candles, tarot cards, dream-catchers, wands, athames, cauldrons, incense, oils, jewellery, meditation CDs, cloaks, calendars, gifts, and similar items. But at this time of year the items were more Halloween-oriented.

  Nick assumed that Mora regretted setting up in the lower grounds; her income would most likely double in the upper. Nonetheless, she loved her store, and Nick could see that.

  Towards the end of his shift, Janet tramped over to him. ‘Have you got a girlfriend yet?’ she said, her eyes wide.

  ‘No, Janet,’ Nick answered apathetically. ‘No luck there.’

  ‘I can set you up with someone, you know?’

  ‘I’m not looking to date anyone at the moment.’

  Janet seemed to have acquired an interest in his love life over the past few months. She was in her thirties and had three kids, was of average height, her hair was leathery- brown like her eyes, and she had large teeth and gums that couldn’t be ignored when she laughed or smiled. Being close friends with Mora, she was in the same coven as her.

  When Nick had first become interested in Wicca, Mora invited him to one of her coven meetings to see about initiating him. In that particular meeting they worshipped ‘the Goddess’ or ‘the Mother’ and then invited her into their circle, asking for some kind of protection over their family and friends.

  Nick hadn’t known what to expect before attending, but it turned out he felt extremely uncomfortable. Their Ritual Leader, as the group referred to her, asked Nick if he was on a spiritual journey, if he wanted to devote himself to the study of Wicca and be initiated into their circle. She told him they initiated people ‘sky clad’ (butt naked). He decided against joining. Being seen nude by his manager and a co-worker wasn’t quite his cup of tea. The Ritual Leader said it was to show the Goddess he wasn’t afraid to be in front of her the way he came into the world, and something about being ‘reborn’ the way he was first born.

  He wasn’t ashamed of his naked body, but he didn’t want to prove it by stripping off in front of people either. There was probably more to it than that, and he didn’t like to judge too hastily, but still … No.

  ‘You know, a man your age should really have a woman by now!’ Janet commented.

  ‘I’m only twenty-four.’

  ‘Exactly. You should be in a long-term relationship, working up to marriage and then having children—else you will be an old daddy.’

  He chuckled. ‘I’m only twenty-four, and who said I want to have children? I can’t even afford to look after myself.’

  ‘Well, what’s the point of having a girlfriend if you don’t want a family?’

  ‘I never said I wanted a girlfriend. You’re the one pestering me about it!’ His voice rose, but as far as h
e could tell, she was only winding him up. He hoped.

  ‘Hmmm … I still don’t think it’s right. You should be at least looking out for that special someone,’ she said decisively, then gave a cheeky smile and sauntered off.

  Nick thought of the woman he’d saved. He didn’t even know her, never got her name, but she was beautiful. Her face was imprinted in his mind, and warmth swam through his body at the thought of her.

  Before the shift was over, he deliberated asking Michael if he’d noticed anything out of the ordinary with Tom recently, but his conscience stopped him. Tom had made clear that it was personal. Arousing suspicion would be inconsiderate. I’ll just have to wait and find out.

  Nick put more effort into his dinner that evening than the usual sling-it-in-the-oven or microwave meal. He had a chicken and mushroom pasta bake with Parmesan cheese. The effort paid off and he wondered why he didn’t prepare his own food more often … and came to the conclusion that he couldn’t afford to buy ingredients all the time, that’s why!

  He attempted to meditate again, a tad desperate to have another vision. He tried to recall how it happened the first time: sitting in Creaky Crystals, lazily and halfheartedly meditating instead of working … and then he was daydreaming, seeing the future. Maybe I’m trying too hard?

  For over an hour he let himself relax, hoping a vision would come to him, but nothing happened.

  Then images flashed in front of him: flowers, cobbles, a wall, rain, soggy black hair, pictures, flowers, the lower grounds, flowers, notes, flowers, Creaky Crystals, bouquets of flowers, tears.

  There were fleeting sounds. He felt the imagery, sharp but too quick to grasp. There, then gone. Rapid, stinging.

  A painful throb entered his skull. Opening his eyes, he groaned. He dropped his head heavily into his hands and squeezed both eyes shut, hoping it would force the splitting headache away.

  Arrghh! What the hell was that?