The Dark Corners Box Set

by Robert Scott-Norton

  A dark figure cloaked in shadow, observing.

  Joceline shivered. She couldn’t have missed a second figure in the room, so Kain must have added it. An embellishment that meant something to him? A trick to amuse admirers? It looked like one of those shadowmen he’d become so fond of painting.

  “Kain, what the hell were you doing?” she asked into the cold depths of the house.

  A dull thud came from downstairs and Joceline was yanked out of her memories. She stepped to the window, thinking it must be that the visitors had come back, so was surprised to see the space outside her home to be empty. They couldn’t have returned on foot, could they?

  Her legs felt unsteady, and she reached out for the bedpost as her ears tuned into the house, hypersensitive to any noise out of the ordinary. When she felt that her limbs would support her, she trod softly to the landing.

  “Hello?” she called, looking down the staircase where she could see through the frosted glass of the front door that there was no one standing outside.

  But she had heard something.

  The backdoor had been locked; she was positive. Perhaps a bird had struck a window. They sometimes did, especially around dusk.

  There were no more noises, but it convinced Joceline she was no longer alone in the house. Someone else was here with her. A presence that chilled her bones. Her heart fluttered, and she realised that she was anxious, afraid even. It was a feeling she’d not felt in her own home since the night before Kain’s funeral.

  “Who’s there?” she said, calling out in as forceful a manner as she could muster, trying to sound brave and intimidating.

  Joceline took a step down onto the staircase, then another, leaning over the bannister to look towards the back of the house.

  A man stepped into view from the kitchen. The man’s angular face wasn’t right. It looked damaged, burnt. But there was something worse and she only saw it as he took a step toward her. Where his left eye should have been was a dark pit, the surrounding flesh torn with deep lacerations.

  She didn’t recognise him. This was a stranger in her house, not one of the art students. No one she’d ever met.

  Her heart thundered and blood rushed to her head, making her feel woozy. A hundred permutations of how this may play out ran through Joceline’s mind.

  I left the back door open.

  He’s with those students.

  He’s here to rape and kill me.

  “Get out!” she said with as much authority as her wavering voice allowed. But even then, she was working out escape routes. The front bedroom window opened onto the sloping roof leading to the porch. But a fall like that might break her legs, and then she’d be vulnerable.

  For the first time in her life, she realised how dangerous it was being this remote from the rest of society.

  The intruder smiled. A big grin, tiger-wide, showing far too many teeth. When he spoke, it was all she could do to contain her bladder.

  “Hello, Jocey.”

  She gripped the bannister. So tight, she thought she might crush the wood with her bare hands. Only one man ever called her Jocey, and this man said it with that same undercurrent of affection and cruelty.

  Adam Cowl was alive again, and in her home.

  “You’re dead,” she said. “You died thirty years ago.”

  But that was who it was. This stranger wasn’t a stranger at all, but the man who’d infiltrated her marriage and twisted her husband into producing those paintings that she simultaneously loved and loathed.

  His smile lingered but the spark behind the eyes vanished leaving a black empty void.

  “I was dead, but I’m all better now.” And Adam began the climb up the staircase. One step at a time, nothing too fast. He wouldn’t want her to run prematurely. This was a game to him, and he wanted her to be scared.

  “You can’t be here. It’s not possible.”

  “It’s entirely possible. I spoke about this at length with you and Kain.”

  “But I mean. They were just stories. That was a game we played.”

  The smile vanished as if it had never been there. “What made you think it was a game?”

  Another step closer.

  She could smell the taint of death on him now. Timing was everything.

  “Kain died.”

  “I know, but I’ve come to see you. I wanted us to catch up for old times’ sake.” A flicker of a tongue against his lip and she groaned inwardly at the sight. He was meaning to hurt her and without Kain to protect her, to limit what he would do to her, the game would never stop.

  “How is it you? You don’t even look the same.”

  “Trust me, Jocey. It’s me. I had to borrow a body. His name was Johnny, but don’t worry. He was a loser the world won’t miss.”

  She looked into his remaining eye and knew he was speaking the truth, impossible as it sounded. “Oh my God,” she said, and then without warning, she reached forward and shoved. Despite his grip on the bannister he slipped backwards, hard, and once he was falling, he couldn’t stop, each step crashing into his back with a satisfying crunch. He howled.

  Joceline ran. She had hoped to make it past him on the staircase, but the stairs were narrow and Adam had fallen awkwardly against the wall, blocking that route. Her only hope was to get into the most secure room in the house and find something to defend herself with.

  She dashed for the bedroom studio, slammed the door, turned the key, then retreated. Footsteps thundered up the stairs and fists thumped against the door. It rocked at the impact. It wouldn’t take many more hits like that before splitting. How strong was he?

  Her throat was parched, and a wave of intense nausea struck her. It had been a long time since she’d fainted, but she wobbled and was terrified that she might do so now. Instead, she fought the urge to scream, and raced to the wall above the bed, grabbing a knife hanging there. It had been years since she’d touched any of these. After Kain’s death, why would she ever be concerned with these obscene pieces of decoration? But the moment she gripped a handle, she felt a jolt of something surge through her. An energy that made her feel ten years younger. She could do this. There was no way she would let that monster back into her bedroom again, back into her.

  No fucking way.

  “Get the hell out of my house!” she yelled. “I’m calling the police.”

  “I don’t want to fuck you, Jocey. I’m just here to talk.”

  “So, talk. You’ve five minutes until you’re arrested. I’m calling them now.”

  A chuckle. “You left your mobile downstairs. I picked it up from the kitchen table.” There was a gentle knocking, and she imagined him on the other side of the door, using her mobile against the wood.

  Shit.

  “I don’t care what you want. I just want you to go. We’re done Adam. There’s nothing for you here.”

  A thump, much stronger. He’d given up with his fists and was kicking at the lock. She shook with every impact, her heart beating so quickly now that she knew she couldn’t continue like this. Her body was old, not like the man on the other side of that door.

  Perhaps those students would come back and help her.

  “Leave me alone!”

  Another strike at the door and the frame bulged dangerously. He’d given up talking, no longer interested in discussing the matter. The door frame shook one final time, then with a devastating crack it snapped and the door crashed open. Adam stood in the doorway. She rushed at him, the knife an extension of her hand, lashing forward, swinging for his face, hoping to hit his neck and finish him. The fear was still there, but she used it to her advantage. No longer feeling old and vulnerable, but young and enraged.

  “Get out!”

  He hadn’t prepared for the knife. It caught his cheek, but he ducked at the second swing, his fingers feeling for the damage. An inch higher and it would have been his remaining eye.

  Anger twisted his features. He struck her knife arm, and the weapon flew from her grasp and knocked again
st the wall, narrowly missing the painting above the fireplace, the one that had caught her attention earlier with the shape emerging from the shadows.

  The room turned chilly.

  Her wrist hurt where Adam’s hand had smacked into hers, and he was upon her, striking her cheek. Joceline fell backwards, reaching for something to brace her fall, but his leg swept her feet from under her and she fell clumsily, knocking her head against the bed.

  Dazed and with blackness edging her vision, her head wobbled and she slumped.

  “You always were a bitch,” Adam said.

  She wanted to howl at him, say something that would make him stop, but there was nothing. Her desperate eyes sought the corners of the room where thirty years ago, Kain would have stood with his easel, watching and capturing. Sketching out the images that would form the basis for his paintings.

  Adam hauled her up then shoved her onto the bed.

  “Don’t worry. I’m not going to fuck you. I wouldn’t want to put my cock in your ageing hole. God knows how many guys you’ve had up there.”

  “Bastard.”

  “Enough talking. From now on, you’ll do what I tell you to do. You’ll speak only when I want you to speak. You belong to me, Joceline. You always have.”

  She paused for breath. They both did. The adrenaline still coursing through her was making her want to lie down, to weep, to run, all at the same time. It made little sense to her. None of this did. The man was Adam; he looked like somebody else, but she knew it was Adam.

  “You’re supposed to be dead,” she said coldly.

  “I was. But now I’m not. Funny that.”

  “What do you want?”

  “All the Darkness. I want it complete. I know you sold it to Loomis. What did you do with the missing piece?”

  Her heart skipped. How could he be onto her so soon? The painting was out of the way for a reason. She never wanted to see it or Kain ever again. Perhaps she’d been rash in selling it to Loomis, but she’d taken precautions. Only, now it seemed she hadn’t been cautious enough.

  “I don’t have it,” she said, defiantly.

  “Then you’re no good to me,” Adam said.

  Joceline screamed as Adam rushed at her.

  16

  Judy’s hands had turned white from the pressure she’d been applying to the steering wheel. Seth reached over and patted her on the arm. She flinched and had to correct her road position to avoid bumping the kerb.

  “Hey, maybe I should drive,” he said.

  “I’m good.”

  He eyed the speedometer. “You might want to slow down.”

  “You don’t get to tell me how to drive.”

  “I’m not telling you how to drive, I’m only saying that there’s lots of speed cameras down here and if you don’t want to get flashed—”

  “Seth, what the hell are you talking about? After what just happened, why are you giving a damn about speeding?”

  “I’d just like to get home in one piece.”

  As they approached a junction, Judy slowed just enough that she didn’t have to stop completely before the traffic lights changed and she could speed up again.

  “You’ve kept your distance from me since Ravenmeols. Barely a message to say that you were even alive. But then today, you drag me right back into the thick of it without so much as a by your leave.”

  “This isn’t my fault. I didn’t know what we would find at the Scardovi’s.”

  “But you had some idea. I mean, you knew that the painting was dangerous, didn’t you? I have a daughter. I’m the only one in her life and she needs me to keep on coming home. I can’t get involved with your drama.”

  “What happened at Ravenmeols wasn’t my fault. Roy Oswald had it all planned. I was as innocent as you. He was trying to kill me.”

  “None of that would have happened if you hadn’t been there. He needed a medium after some quick cash and he found you.”

  “And if it hadn’t been me, it would have been somebody else. They weren’t going to cancel their plans just because I turned them down.”

  “They needed you and your ability to see the doors.”

  “And if I hadn’t agreed to go, they’d have taken me anyway. And then I might not have been in any position to help you all escape.”

  Seth could feel the fire burning inside. She’d touched a nerve. This was not his fault. He’d lost his sister because of the Adherents and almost lost his life trying to stop them bringing their leader back into the land of the living. In that, they’d failed, but Seth had made sure that he wouldn’t be around to bother them again.

  “Did you know the painting was dangerous?” Judy asked, her voice raised.

  “Yes,” Seth replied. “I’m sorry. The painting was just one item from a basement full of occult artefacts. They’re all dangerous to some degree, I mean, that’s why my uncle kept them. He was trying to keep them out of the hands of groups like the Adherents. He knew what damage they could cause.”

  “But now, after hearing Joceline, do you have any doubt that the Adherents took it?”

  “No, they took it.”

  Judy turned the corner a little fast and Seth rocked against the car’s interior.

  “And do you think Adam Cowl is behind this?”

  The image of Adam being savaged by the shadowmen on the top of the hospital building came unbidden to his mind. There was no way Adam could have endured that attack. The only way Seth had survived was jumping from the building to what he thought would be his death.

  “Adam is dead.”

  “You’re sure of it?”

  “I’m sure. He didn’t stand a chance.”

  “But you didn’t see him die? You didn’t actually see his body, did you? Because they never found his body that night.”

  “There was the fire.”

  “They would have found what was left of him,” Judy persisted. “There would have been something left to find.”

  “I’m telling you. He was caught in a fight he couldn’t win. There was no way he was getting off that rooftop alive.”

  “You did.”

  Seth knew she hadn’t meant that to hurt as much as it did, but it didn’t help. Her words were barbed and added to his survivor guilt.

  “So why have they taken it?” she asked.

  “Joceline’s holding back on us. She knows more than she’s saying.”

  “Should we go back?”

  “Not sure she’s ready to tell us everything she knows. She wanted us gone from her home. We stirred up some powerful memories. I think we need to give her some time to process that before talking to her again.”

  “I don’t suppose you want to get the police involved? She’s an important lead. If she knows who might have been interested in taking the painting, that would help the police.”

  “Maybe. I don’t know. The police and me don’t exactly get along.”

  “Care to explain?”

  “I had some unsatisfied customers. They thought it would be a good idea to call the police on me when I wouldn't refund them.”

  “You didn’t think it was a good idea to give them their money back?”

  Seth frowned. “I’m broke, Judy. I’ve got nothing. I was living at Malc’s house. His wife wanted me gone, and I had nowhere else to go.”

  Judy paused. “I’m sorry. And sorry about your uncle. This has all come a little fast hasn’t it?”

  They’d arrived at the house and Judy pulled up onto the tarmac in front of the building.

  “Thanks for the lift. And for coming with me. And sorry again for everything that’s happened.” He meant it. Every word. Keeping her distant was not what he’d ever wanted to do, but it was his fault she’d been exposed to such danger. He wouldn’t be able to forgive himself if she got hurt again because of his selfishness.

  “I’m glad I came,” she gave a half-hearted laugh. “You opened my eyes to something frightening all those weeks ago. And I’m not gonna lie, it was bloody terrifying. But I’d g
one to that hospital for a reason, I was already interested in finding out about the other world. The other side of the coin. Maybe if I’d known what would result, I’d have kept well away, but I think we both helped each other a little that night.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I never thought I was anything out of the ordinary, but you showed me the Almost Doors. You taught me I could do something special. I still don’t understand it. But I hope that one day I will.”

  She looked up at him and there was a slight colour to her cheeks. She’d embarrassed herself and Seth found her even more endearing for it.

  “Are you still seeing the doors?”

  She shook her head. “I’ve not seen one since the hospital.” She dug in her handbag and pulled out a slim notebook. “Look what you’re making me do though.” She flicked through the pages and revealed a list of rooms and numbers.

  Seth understood what she was showing him. “I’m sorry. It can get a little obsessive.”

  “Keeping count of them helps me stay grounded. Besides, I don’t plan on getting caught off-guard again.” She hesitated then put the notebook back into her bag. There was something she wanted to say.

  “Spit it out,” Seth said. “What’s bothering you?”

  Judy’s eyes had narrowed, and she was fiddling with the key chain in the ignition. But then she stopped, apparently reconsidering. “It’s nothing. Just promise me you won’t do anything stupid, like go back to see Joceline on your own or anything. She’s not in a good place. There’s no telling what she might do.”

  “I’m not totally insane,” he said, attempting a smile.

  “I’m serious.”

  “So am I.” He opened the door and climbed out. “Under no circumstances will I attempt to speak to Joceline again. Better?”