by Donnie Light
After a few weeks, Galen moved into Al’s house and was soon followed by Audra. They called the curator from the local museum and donated all of Al’s artifacts to their collection.
“There’s some incredible stuff here,” Logan, the curator said.
“Take everything,” Galen told him. “I don’t want any of this stuff around.”
Logan and some helpers loaded a truck and drove it away. The house seemed almost empty with all of Al’s strange decorations gone, but Audra wasted no time in trying to fill the void with her own ideas. Her cedar chest supplied a few decorations that made the large house a little more like a home.
Galen had claimed Al’s study and had vowed to keep it the way it was. He could feel Al in this room. This was the room where Al had really lived. He had been at his best in this room and Galen was comfortable with that.
A few days later, both of them with the day off work, Audra noticed Galen searching for something.
“What are you looking for?” she asked.
“Johnny Bench,” Galen said.
“What on Earth are you talking about?” she asked.
“A baseball card,” Galen said. “Al had a ’71 Bench. He showed it to me once.”
Galen had collected baseball cards since he was just a kid and had not let a little thing like growing up stop him. One of the cards he had always hoped to have was a ’71 Bench. “I can’t find it anywhere,” Galen said. “I’ve been through all of his notebooks, his drawers, everything.”
“Al collected baseball cards?” Audra asked, surprised.
“Yeah,” Galen said. “He thought it was interesting that so many people collected them, and when he found out that I did, we got into a conversation about it. The next thing I knew, Al was collecting cards. He would call me sometimes and ask me to trade with him.
“It’ll show up,” Audra said. She smiled as she cleaned out the top of one of the closets. She reached back on the top shelf with a rag, wiping out the dust. Hitting something with her hand, she blindly felt around for it. She retrieved a wooden box, very similar to the one the ball had been in. “I wonder what this is?” she asked.
“Don’t open it!” Galen shouted. “Whatever it is, we don’t need it. Send it over to Logan at the museum.”
Audra nodded her head while she smiled at him. “Okay,” she said, “I’ll wrap it up and send it to him.”
Galen nodded and went on mumbling about the baseball card for the rest of the afternoon.
A week later, Audra received a note in the mail from Logan. It read:
Thanks again for all the things you donated to the museum. They will all make wonderful additions to our collection I was especially surprised to receive that last package from you. I’ve never collected baseball cards before, but I guess a 1971 Johnny Bench is a good place to start. Thanks again - Logan.
Audra and Galen would be married soon after and she would never tell him of the whereabouts of the ’71 Bench.
THE END
Author’s Note
Thank you for taking the time to read Dark Justice. Reviews are important for Indie authors, so please consider writing a review of this title on Amazon.
This ebook also contains an excerpt from an exciting series called The Ripper Trilogy, written by Donnie Light and Shawn Weaver.
If you enjoyed the suspense and fast-paced action in Dark Justice, I think you will also enjoy Ripper’s Row, the first book in the trilogy.
Please continue past the author bio to read an excerpt from Ripper’s Row.
About the Author
Photo Courtesy Barb Light Photography
Donnie Light lives in rural northern Illinois with his wife Barbara and their cat, Hedgie. He has two grown sons who also live in the area.
Dark Justice is Donnie’s first novel. He is currently working on his next book.
Donnie can be contacted at [email protected] and loves hearing from readers. Visit http://www.DonnieLight.com where you can find the latest news on his work. Donnie can also be found on Twitter and Facebook.
Excerpt from “Ripper’s Row”
In the fall of 1888, Jack the Ripper cut a swath of blood and terror through the streets of London, in an area known as Whitechaple. The papers called him a monster for attacking innocent women in the night. But if the world only knew the truth behind Jack’s monstrous acts, they would think differently. Jack was a madman, yes, but a madman on a mission to save the world from the foul creatures of the night. Creatures that haunted his soul, tortured his existence, and made every minute of his life a living hell.
Only Jack the Ripper could save the unsuspecting masses from the vampires that ruled the streets of Whitechaple after dark. Only he could strike down the dangerous Master Vampire William Carpenter—or die in the attempt.
Follow the infamous “Jack the Ripper” through a harrowing adventure to take back the streets of Victorian London, and reclaim the honor of a love lost to darkness.
Chapter 1
Burning with a dim yellow glow, the gas lights barely cut the dark as they shined down on the cobblestone roads that crossed the lower end of London. Horses clacked along as drivers shuffled their customers between various inns and taverns. Those seeking more intimate company swept the side streets of Bucks Row, looking for a chance to meet and for a few pence to cross hands. An embrace in the night went largely unnoticed by the strolling passersby, more than willing to ignore what happened in the wee hours between buildings where the loveless encounters flourished.
A gasp, a gurgle and blood splattered across the side of a tavern. Mary Ann Nichols dropped to the ground, her skirt and petticoats pulled up in anticipation of her customer’s desire. She had no time to scream as the passion that had been paid for turned ugly.
With silent intent, he bent down, taking the liberty of a few more slashes at his already dead victim. He then wiped the edge of the steel blade free of blood and gore. Looking to the side, he saw the way clear for his getaway. Calm and collected, he drifted into the night, whistling a happy tune. Tonight’s work was done, leaving him once again free to do as he pleased. A moment later, the shrill pitch of a bobby’s whistle cut through the night as the lawman registered the horror that had befallen the lady at his feet. All the while, the dark figure known as “The Ripper” did not hurry his pace, but kept on walking, certain that he would not be caught.
§ § §
Standing on the roof of the two-story tavern, the smell of blood reached his nostrils, making his body quiver. William Carpenter watched the chaos unfold below him. A mental surge had brought him here, driving him to aid of one of his own. But he arrived too late, her plea for help cut short. Deep inside, William felt the blade pierce her flesh, the sharp edge sweeping the life out of her.
Another bobby ran into the alleyway, skidding to a slippery stop on the blood that seeped through the cracks in the cobblestones. Angered voices rose up the two stories to William’s sensitive ears. The imbecile police lacked the ability to track the killer, their professionalism in inverse proportion to the amount of rotgut whiskey they had drunk before coming on duty.
Seething, William turned and left Mary Ann’s body to the city. He could do nothing for her now. Let her be buried in the pauper’s graveyard under Big Ben’s shadow. He would find another to take her place.
With ease, William ran from rooftop to rooftop, leaping the gaps as easily as jumping a puddle. Dropping to the streets of Whitechaple, he landed with the grace of a master vampire. William heard the drunken voices of two men who turned the dark corner, and could smell whiskey and tooth decay that emanated from them. Nose curling, he tipped his top hat towards them and crossed the street to get away from the disgusting stench. The sweet scent of jasmine surprised him, enticing him down the street swifter than any hound.
He heard gentle breathing before he saw her standing underneath a gas lamp. Smudges of soot and grease streaked her patched green jacket. The skirt looked either gray or green, too faded for him to be sure
, and its hem frayed into straggling, muddy thread. But her dark blonde hair swept up into a bun, leaving tendrils curling against her elegant throat. And porcelain cheeks kissed by roses glowed beneath the grime that encased everything and everyone in the soot of the working class of Whitechaple.
Quick steps brought him up behind her. She turned, jumped with surprise, and brought a hand to her mouth. “Sorry, gov’ner, you gave me a fright.”
Seeing the handsome man before her, a smile crossed her lips and her eyes twinkled in the dim gaslight. “What can I do for you?” she cooed, swaying slightly, tempting William with what lay beneath her skirts.
Reaching with a gloved hand, William caressed her chin while the tip of his tongue traced the growing canines in his mouth. Willingly, she lifted her head, gazing into his black eyes. He could see the vein of life pulsing in her neck. Smiling down at her, William let her know that she had made the sale.
Taking his hand, the woman pulled William to her right. With her free hand, she curled a finger in his direction and blew him a kiss. William followed, allowing himself to be led into the darkness of another alley.
She stumbled on raised cobblestones and grabbed his elbow to steady herself. At her touch, he took the woman by the shoulder and spun her around to face him.
She gave a small gasp at being seized, but grew still, mesmerized.
“What is your name, m’lady?” William asked as he held her chin in his hand.
“The name is Annie, sir… Annie Chapman.”
“Hello, Annie. My name is William,” he whispered, “and I need your help.”
William looked deeply into her eyes again, now locked on his. The force of his stare sent a powerful message directly to her mind, mingling his essence with her very soul.
He put his mouth close to her ear, the scent of jasmine overlaying the smell of her blood. He could feel his seduction overwhelm her. He’d chosen enough servants over the centuries to tell with relative ease who he could convert. Her trembling shoulders told him she would do anything William wanted at that very moment, including giving her life for his. Her rapid heartbeat told him she had already fallen in love with him.
His teeth nibbled on her earlobe before he whispered, “Annie, will you help me?”
“Of course I’ll help you, my love,” Annie answered. She raised her hand and stroked his clean-shaven face. “I’ll do anything for you, my dear William. Just tell what it is you desire of me.”
William put his hand behind her neck and forcefully kissed her on the lips. She wrapped her arms around him and returned the kiss, leaning against him, urging him on. Drawing back, he studied her brown eyes, dreamy and half closed. He liked what he saw. The bond had been made.
Taking Annie by the hand, he gently tugged her in the direction of the street. Annie snuggled close to William’s side and wrapped one arm around his slim waist.
“Where are we going, William?”
“To your new home, m’ love,” he answered. “Where you will be safe and well cared for. You will also meet your sisters.”
“That sounds wonderful. I’ve always wanted sisters.” She kissed his cheek, then leaned her head on his shoulder while they walked.
William led Annie to the place where he stayed, and opened the door to the four-flat apartment building. The large brick building featured a central hallway and stairs. They walked up the flight of stairs and William paused at the ornate door that led inside.
“Welcome home, Annie,” William said as he turned the knob. The door swung inward with a creak, and Annie peered inside. The place was quiet, and a thick rug welcomed her first steps into the parlor.
Annie glanced around, instantly impressed with the fine furnishings. While the furniture looked very old, they were also of high quality and richly appointed. A few painted portraits hung upon the walls, held by finely detailed, hand-carved frames. Elaborate porcelain lamps sat upon small tables in each corner of the room, and many books filled a bookcase along one wall. Annie had never seen so many books.
William watched with a smile as Annie took in the essence of the room. “I’m sure you’ll be happy here, Annie.”
“It surely beats the flat I live in,” Annie said, overwhelmed, still taking in the details of the room.
Two women entered the parlor from the rooms beyond. “Dear William,” one of them said. They both approached him and one helped him out of his jacket.
“Ladies,” William said, “meet Annie, your new sister.”
The two looked her over with mixed reactions. One was welcoming and gave Annie a quick hug, while the other looked her over, jealousy apparent in her eyes. She said nothing, but instead turned to her master, seeking his affection. She kissed William on the cheek, and embraced him, claiming the closest position to her love.
“Ladies,” William said, “please show Annie around and make her feel at home in our abode. I have some things to consider, and will be in my room for a while. I wish not to be disturbed.” With that, William made his way to the back of the parlor and disappeared from view.
“My name is Elizabeth,” the friendlier of the two women said. “And this here is Catherine.”
Catherine turned away, and headed into a different room without a word.
“She’s a little bit fussy,” Elizabeth said, giving a faint smile. “The other two who live here are still out, but they should be back soon.” She took Annie by the hand, giving a gentle tug. “Let me show you where you can stay, dear.” She led Annie deeper into the rooms beyond the parlor.
After returning to his lair, William’s mind wandered back to the grisly death of Mary Ann. True, he only needed her to keep watch over his home while he slept. But still Mary Ann belonged to him, to do with as he pleased. No one else had the right to take her life.
But this was the second time someone had struck down one of his own. Lisa Marie, a beautiful and vivacious woman when alive, and even more so after joining the undead, was the first. Only a week ago, William had sensed the moment of her demise. He had mentally shared the pain and anguish when a madman separated her head from her body. William had lain helplessly, just before the sun rose over the grimy streets that he called home these past many years.
Lisa Marie’s body fell to dust as the sun’s rays ripped through her. William fondly remembered her as being special and different from the others. The other women were mere animals to feed upon and to bring in the money they earned each night. But Lisa Marie had found a place near William’s heart, now broken with her demise.
While William would surely miss Lisa Marie, he realized he had a much bigger problem. Those who hunted his kind found him. Lisa Marie was a true vampire, strong and powerful. With the falling of Lisa Marie, he knew he was being stalked. But now that he knew, soon he would become the hunter.
Chapter 2
In a second floor room above a tailor’s shop, four blocks from where police now gathered around the body of Mary Ann Nichols, the killer drew a bath. Bloody clothes worn during the killing soaked in a sink in another corner of the room. He had managed to keep most of the blood from getting on him, as he had learned from previous mistakes.
The second of his killings was now week-old news. The local papers had already given him a nickname, calling him ‘Jack the Ripper’ because of the viciousness of his slayings. The killer enjoyed the irony, as his true first name was actually Jack.
A smile crossed his face, and just as quickly, it faded away as he realized the seriousness of his work. Lately, it became more demanding, which meant he was being effective.
Jack boiled water in a large kettle and added it to the cold water already in the tub. He longed to cleanse himself completely after embracing his last victim before removing her head.
Mary Ann had seemed suspicious of Jack when he approached her, asking pointed questions and making suggestions about finding another girl for the night. Jack had killed another of her kind only a week before, that one being fully a vampire. Now her sisters were wary. Sometimes,
Jack could not determine which ones were vampires, and which ones were simply human consorts. With no room for error, and in order to lessen Mary Ann’s suspicion, he had embraced her, kissed her, to convince her that he was simply another lonely man looking for female companionship after a few drinks.
He detested having to do that, and now felt the foulness of her kind upon him, and was anxious to cleanse himself.
Jack poured the boiling water into the tub and tested the warmth. Not as warm as he would like it, but it would do. Jack climbed into the bath, which raised goose flesh on his arms. He did not know if this was an effect of the cool water, or the chilling events of the evening. He wished he were back in the relative luxury of his own home and not in this dingy rented room. He hoped his work here would be over soon. However, he had not yet even laid eyes upon the one he truly hunted in lower London. He knew a powerful vampire lived nearby. By killing off those in his harem, Jack hoped to draw him out into the open, where he could discover his identity and the location of his lair.
Jack scrubbed himself hard enough to turn his skin bright red. The sun would be coming up soon and Jack was ready for sleep, though he could not sleep the day away as the one he sought did. Jack required little rest.
He climbed into the lumpy bed provided with the room and gazed at the ceiling. The sun crested the eastern horizon, splashing reddish-pink light onto the wall.
Even though physically exhausted, after an hour, Jack realized sleep would elude him again. Tossing and turning on the thin mattress only led to pain that crept into his joints like a poison.
Jack rose and dressed in his only remaining set of clothes. He took the silver shaving razor and sharpened her with ease and precision, inspected his work, and then admired the beauty of the ornate tool that felt like a close friend. Jack gently closed the razor, and slipped it back into the hidden pocket in his jacket. Tired, Jack yawned as he left his room, looking for a bite to eat and the next clue to his puzzle.
