Pyros: DarkWorld: Skinwalker 0.5 (Novella) (DarkWorld: Origins Book 1)

by T. G. Ayer

  PYROS

  DarkWorld: Origins

  T.G. Ayer

  Kindle Edition

  Copyright © 2014 by T.G. Ayer

  Find out more about T.G. Ayer at

  http://www.tgayer.com/

  http://www.tgayer.wordpress.com/

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  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 author or publisher except for the use of brief quotations in critical articles or reviews.

  ***

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

  ***

  Cover art by T.G. Ayer

  Cover art © T.G. Ayer. All rights reserved.

  Edited by Tracy Riva

  ***

  Kindle Edition, License Notes

  This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person. If you are reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Amazon.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  Table of Contents

  Table of Contents

  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

  SKIN DEEP – A DARKWORLD SKINWALKER NOVEL #1

  SKIN DEEP - Chapter 1

  SKIN DEEP - Chapter 2

  LOST SOUL – A DARKWORLD SKINWALKER NOVEL #2

  LOST SOUL - Chapter 1

  LOST SOUL - Chapter 2

  BLOOD MAGIC – A DARKWORLD SOULTACKER NOVEL #1

  BLOOD MAGIC - Chapter 1

  BLOOD MAGIC - Chapter 2

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  T.G.Ayer's Full List of Books

  Acknowledgments

  About the Author

  ***

  The DarkWorld: Origins

  The DarkWorld Origins is a series of standalone short stories that will walk you through the origins of each character. Pyros is Logan Westin's story. I'd suggest you read Pyros either before or after Skin Deep to maintain the chronology of the story. If you wish to read Kailin & Logan’s story SKIN DEEP click the link and enjoy.

  DarkWorld: SkinWalker: Skin Deep ~ Lost Soul ~ Last Chance

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  In the DarkWorld the things that go bump in the night are most likely true. And the problem is they are probably not sticking to bumping around in the night. They are everywhere. Your work colleagues, your teachers, even your friends. They’ve been living that way for a long time. And you haven’t noticed because they don’t want you to.

  You’re much better off not asking any questions.

  *

  Chapter 1

  Logan Westin, age 13

  Somewhere outside of Chicago

  It was supposed to be a special day.

  Logan Westin's mother had promised to take him to his favorite diner. The one he loved to look at when they walked past on their way to the bus stop. Sometimes he'd slow down, press his hands to the window and peer inside. Logan loved the look of the red-cushioned seats and the bright gleaming chrome.

  Today was his chance to go inside and mother had said she'd get them strawberry milkshakes.

  Logan was so excited he couldn't walk. He had to hop or run, do something more than just stroll along as if their destination wasn't a place that made him so excited he wanted to laugh out loud.

  But Logan didn't laugh. Father wouldn't approve. And even though Father no longer lived with them, Logan knew he had to be careful. For Mother and for... For? Who else was he meant to protect?

  Logan frowned and skidded to a stop in front of the diner. When he pushed the door open he inhaled the smells, and it all made him giddy with excitement. Coffee, and cooking meat and the polish from the black-and-white checkered linoleum beneath his feet. He pasted a huge grin on his face as he walked inside. Mother came next followed closely by a little girl whose laughter tickled his insides. She was as excited to be there as he was. They'd waited for so long.

  When Logan turned to pull her pigtails he paused, stunned and confused. There was no one there. Even though her laughter still rang through the diner, the haunting sound so filled with happiness, so innocent and bubbly. He knew that voice. Knew if he reached out she'd hold his hand and her skin would be soft and smooth. Knew she'd grab his hand and pull him inside and accuse him of dragging his feet.

  But there was nobody beside him.

  Logan frowned but when Mother put her hand on his shoulder he looked up at her smiling face and forgot his worries. She bent and told him to choose a booth, she'd get the milkshakes, and he nodded and raced to the one he wanted. As he approached the booth he saw a young couple in the next seat. They were holding hands and the girl was smiling, so happy, so bright, like the sunshine streaming in through the windows of the diner. The girl turned her head and saw Logan approach and she smiled wider and waved her fingers at him. The sun glinted off a pretty ring on her finger. The man shifted to the edge of his seat and twisted round to look at Logan. The sun shone on his blond hair making it look ablaze with light. The man grinned at him too and winked before sliding back into the booth.

  Logan flushed at the attention the couple had given him. They were so nice. He felt his stomach twist as he wished, not for the first time, that his parents had a love like that. A love where they didn't argue, where his father didn't give his mother black eyes and broken ribs. Logan slid into the leather seat and then the couple was forgotten as he grinned wider, looking through the window. This was almost the exact spot where he would stand and stare inside the diner. And here he was at last.

  A movement beside him made him turn around. Mother was here. She placed the two milkshakes on the table, one in front of Logan and the other beside him. He stared at the second milkshake for a moment, a cloud of darkness filling his heart. He blinked and the glass was gone and Logan felt the loss of it like a kick in the gut. He sucked in a breath and looked up as Mother took a seat. She grinned just about as wide as Logan had.

  And when she turned to face the window, the sun on her face, lighting up her red hair like living fire, Logan's heart swelled. Nobody in the world had a mother like his. She was the most special lady in the whole wide world. She closed her eyes and stayed still as the sun warmed her skin and she sighed.

  And when she opened her eyes her smile disappeared and Logan's stomach hardened with fear. He knew that look. And when he turned to the window he knew what he would see.

  Him.

  He stood outside the window, his face filled with lines, his pale blue eyes dead and cold. He looked from Logan to Mother and sneered. Then he walked on and Logan prayed and prayed that he would keep walking.

  Please don't let him come inside. Please don't let him come inside. Please don't let him come inside.

  But if anyone heard his prayer they also ignored it because his father stalked along the sidewalk and took the corner to the en
trance, his spine stiff with anger. He shoved the door open and came toward their booth. Mother scrambled from the seat and stood in front of the table, protecting them from Karl Westin.

  "Karl. Please. Please don't."

  "What do you mean, Patti? I just want to see 'em. It's a father's right. Birthdays are special." His tone was belligerent and demanding, and his eyes a touch cruel as they slid over Logan. He smiled but his yellow teeth made it look more like a grimace.

  "Karl, please. You promised." His mother pleaded but as usual his father ignored her.

  "Get out of my way, woman. I'm here to see the kids."

  Logan swallowed. Something was wrong. Father had said kids.

  Mother stepped closer to him, blocking his way. And as Father drew his arm back, Logan could see what was going to happened before it happened. His hand, tense and hard, high in the air, his hand curving down in an arc, the muscles in his arm and neck tight with fury, the sound of his hand as it met Mother's cheek. Logan felt a heat grow behind his eyes. Like anger welling up inside him. He forced his mind away from the heat, and brought his attention back just in time to see Father backhand Mother so hard a streak of blood appeared on her upper lip. The impact threw her sideways and her hip smacked against the side of the table. She held onto it, shaking her head, dizzy from the blow.

  Logan's fingers curled into a fist. And heat simmered in his palm. Logan hissed with fear but the sound was swallowed by a wave of voices in the diner.

  People were getting to their feet, upset at his father's behavior. But Karl Westin didn't care that he had an audience. He glared coldly at his wife and said, "Stay out of my way, Patti. I did what I had to do. I needed the money and I ain't sorry."

  "What have you done?" Mother hobbled to her feet and came closer to Logan's seat. She held out her hand and Logan took it grabbing on tightly. He scrambled out of the booth and stood at his mother's side. Her voice shook as she stood up to her husband. "You'd better leave this place, Karl."

  "I ain't leaving without her. The deal is done."

  Mother's fingers tightened around Logan's but he felt nothing. Nothing but the spasm of anger welling up through his body. What Father had said made him so very angry. He was scaring Mother. Threatening to take her? The thought made Logan sick to his stomach. Who?

  But Logan couldn't think about that right now. All he could feel was the anger rising, the heat filling his body and his mind. He didn't hear the screams, didn't see the contorted faces. All he saw was his sneakers and the checkered tile floor of the diner.

  All he could feel was the rise of heat in his body, the feeling that it would explode inside his head if he didn't get it out. And then he couldn't control it any longer.

  He squeezed his mother's fingers shutting his eyes, gripping tight. Fear spun his mind is blazing circles. He gasped for breath and then he shut his eyes afraid of what he would see. Heat gusted around him, wind scorching the tips of his hair. When he dared to open his eyes, the first thing he saw was a patch of melted checkered-tiled floor around a pair of sneakered feet. Black scorch marks blossomed from the sneakers.

  Logan struggled to breathe, sobbing as smoke singed his lungs. He lifted his head and the sight that greeted him, the carnage that surrounded him, stirred his gut and nausea rose. The image of a blackened restaurant marred his vision. His father stood before him, elbow lifted in front of his face. But he wasn't Father anymore. He was as black as night, his body steaming with heat, his face just a skull without features, without eyes. Logan glanced around and tears blurred his eyes. He blinked them away. Charred bodies sat unmoving at wrinkled and melted Formica tables, no longer their original bright blooming red. Even the ceiling above bore burn marks in a circular pattern.

  As if something had exploded where he stood. An explosion large enough to incinerate everything within a twenty-foot radius in the beat of a hummingbird's wing.

  Gasping Logan turned his head to look at his mother but dread gripped his stomach with an icy fist. Somehow he already knew what he would see. Maybe he'd felt it in his hand, maybe the skin of his fingers had sensed the strange texture of his mother's fingers.

  A scream rose in his throat as his eyes fell on his mother. His beautiful mother. He stared at the ruined face, muscles taut and black as soot. All her hair had been burned off and all that remained was a grotesque corpse. Logan's hands shook and he pulled away. His body spasmed as he let go of what used to be his mother's hand. Heat rose and fell inside him and he couldn't help but wonder.

  Had he just killed his mother?

  ***

  Chapter 2

  12 Hours Later

  Logan lay on the bed staring sightlessly at the slightly marbled ceiling tiles. He didn't move. Didn't want to. His chest rose and fell and every now and then he swallowed. His body doing its work to keep him alive. But right now he wasn't sure he wanted to be alive. He didn't deserve life. Not after what he had just done. To his mother and his father and all those innocent people in the diner.

  A few times he'd turned over and pressed his face into the pillow, trying to suffocate the life from his body but they had monitors and machines telling them stuff about him, and they had all come running, speaking kindly and softly, soothing him, telling him it would be okay soon.

  But Logan couldn't believe them.

  Now he lay there unmoving, his hands trapped within wide leather belts. They didn't hurt but they stopped him from doing what he wanted to do. Right now he couldn't stand the thought of living one more second. Not after seeing what he'd done to his beautiful mother. He lay there and stared and stared until his eyelids grew heavy and sleep took him away to some semblance of peace.

  ***

  Chapter 3

  Jacinta watched the little boy as he struggled with the horror of the previous night.

  Frustrated, she curled her fingers into a fist, glad her emotional reaction was well hidden by the cuff of her jacket. The last thing she needed was for Gunther to accuse her of being emotionally involved. She wanted to laugh. He had no idea how invested she was in the well-being of Logan Westin.

  And besides, humans always think of Titans as unemotional, above human feelings. If they only knew.

  She shifted from one foot to another, glanced down at her clipboard notes then up again at the two-way mirror that opened onto the boy's room. She'd been watching since he arrived late last night and although almost a day had passed she had no intention of leaving.

  At first she'd wanted nothing to do with Gunther's manipulations but in the end the council had convinced her that she had to be there, active in Omega, for the good of the boy. And she had relented. She would do her part to protect him.

  And his sister.

  Unfortunately she could do nothing to protect him from what would happen over the next few days. And that's what made her furious; the ability to act to prevent more horrors from being visited on the boy. She didn't agree with what Omega had planned for either Logan or his sister, but the council had assured her both children would be observed and protected as best as they could. But they were clear on one thing; they couldn't move on the organization and jeopardize decades of work just for two little kids.

  She suppressed a snort. The council knew well enough how important these two children were. They were just too afraid to endanger all the other agents they had planted within both Omega and Sentinel.

  The door of the sound-protected room whooshed open and Elias Gunther moved his considerable bulk inside. The man towered over six feet in the air, his bulk more muscle than flab. With his size, square jaw, ice-blue eyes and blond buzz cut, he had the air of an army Sergeant; one who gave no quarter. With that demeanor he oversaw a large number of paranormal teams for Omega, instilling the constant desire in all his recruits to please him at all times. Somewhere inside the iceberg that was Gunther's personality, Jess suspected a little humanity existed. His operatives seemed to only have admiration for him. Not a hint of dislike or fear in the lot.

  Three h
eads lifted from around her, junior officers greeting their senior with a quick glance and equally quick nod. Gunther's heels tapped the floor as he moved toward her. His bright blue eyes missed little around him and today was no different.

  "Carnarvon," he said giving her the stare. "Planning on resting anytime soon?" He'd already turned to study the boy through the window.

  "I am fine, Sir." She kept her responses short, preferring to have as little interaction with Gunther as possible. He was an Appereo, having the ability to teleport from place to place at will. A convenient skill for a man in charge of numerous paranormal teams worldwide. But he rarely jumped unless it was an emergency.

  Today he concentrated his energies on the Westin child. She glanced at him, then let the silence linger a moment. "Do you have a question Agent Carnarvon?"

  She cleared her throat, keeping up the act of hesitation when in fact she played him like a harp. "I was expecting the girl child as well, sir."

  He turned to her and the light glinted off his square face. She had to tip her head upwards to meet his eyes. "I know you were. There has been a complication."

  "Complication, sir?" She prodded gently, probing the edges of his thoughts. What she saw did nothing to calm her racing heart.

  "The girl was abducted on the way to this facility. Whoever they were, they were professional, slick, well-trained." He spoke as if he admired the abductors but the emotions that accompanied those words made Jess want to go home and take a long shower.

  "Sentinel, sir?" she knew she had to ask. It would look odd if she didn't, especially when Sentinel was their arch-rival.

  Gunther grunted. "I'm not sure. Perhaps it was."

  "Who else could it be, sir?" Another question she had to ask. Jess gritted her teeth and kept her eyes on his face.

  "FBI, maybe. Or one of the outliers; demons? Immortals?" Gunther shook his head, then released her gaze to continue staring at the boy. "Whoever they were, they knew what they were doing. And that poses a serious threat to our operations. Especially now that they have her."