I storm through the foreboding forest landscape, Akasha’s cell phone clutched in my hand. Part of me wonders how it could be working without power, but this doesn’t seem more fantastical than anything else I’ve experienced recently.
I charge through the thick undergrowth, stumbling over icy rocks and jumping over banks of snow. My breath comes in adrenaline-fueled bursts as I chase after Adam.
The forest is flooded with the Honda’s headlights. I spot Adam, a grim silhouette etched blackly against their glow. His words reverberate through the night. “I never meant to hurt anyone!”
The tone of his voice worries me, and my concern is validated as I step closer. Adam is holding a jerry can in his hand. Before I can attempt to stop him, he douses himself with gasoline. The acrid-smelling liquid soaks his winter coat and pants, streaming down his face.
“Stay back.”
I do, understanding Adam’s intentions. All I can do is appeal to his crumbling sanity. I can’t allow him to succumb to the guilt that has tormented him for all these months. Adam hurls the emptied gas can in the snow and extricates a lighter from his pocket.
“Adam, please don't.”
“I was just trying to help my brother. I had no idea she was still alive. You gotta believe me!”
I take one more cautious step toward Adam.
“Adam, stop — I do believe you.”
“I've been dreaming of her. Every night I close my eyes and see her burn.”
“Everything’s gonna be alright...” I say the words even though I’m not convinced. I take two more steps, arms up and palms open.
“I'm sorry,” he says with grave finality and I scream, “DON'T!”
Adam isn't listening. He is beyond my reach.
Beyond help.
He fires up the lighter.
“NOOO!”
Night is turned into day as Adam transforms into a human torch. Flames engulf him the same way they devoured Akasha and her victims.
I recoil in shock.
As the fire melts the flesh off Adam's body, his screams of agony echo through the haunted forest. A forlorn plea for forgiveness that will go unanswered.
I avert my gaze, unable to further bear witness to the horror. Mercifully, Adam’s death cries stop and his burning figure slumps forward. The only sounds now are the fire as it consumes what’s left of his body.
Still reeling from the shock, I remember the phone in my hand. The screen has changed. Skype is on and offers me a view of an apartment I’m all too familiar with. It’s Lynn’s place as viewed through the webcam of her desktop computer.
18
I navigate my car down an icy street, driving as fast as I dare. Getting pulled over or causing an accident won’t do Lynn any good. Before leaving Akasha’s gravesite, I used Adam’s phone to call the cops. I told them about Akasha and where they could find her, then promptly hung up.
I made sure to wear my winter gloves to avoid leaving any fingerprints. I’m hoping the cops will think Adam called to confess before he killed himself. There should be nothing linking me to the scene. At least I hope so. Either way, I have more important concerns at the moment. I need to reach Lynn before Akasha attacks her. I fear that I’ll be too late, but I have to try.
The drive into Astoria feels like an eternity. I keep checking Akasha’s cell, but it has gone dark. What does that mean? Is it a good sign, or a bad omen? Does she know I found her grave and am now in possession of her phone? What are the rules of engagement for ghosts?!
These are the insane questions that cycle through my mind as I whip down the road, hands clenched white around the steering wheel.
I arrive at Lynn’s four-story apartment building just as one of the windows explodes. A fireball bursts out, dispersing into the winter night.
OH MY GOD!
A handful of workers and customers from the fruit and vegetable market across the street look up with shocked disbelief. The fire is spreading. While they gawk at it, I park the car and jump out, rushing toward the burning building.
I pass through the main entrance but am met by a wall of fire in the staircase. Thick smoke stings my lungs. There is no way to make it up to the second floor and reach Lynn’s unit.
Or is there?
Panic growing, I retreat to the street. There might be another way. I move along the side of the structure with dark urgency. Smoke plumes from the windows. Weakening timbers screech under the fiery assault.
I round the corner and zero in on the fire escape. Moments later, I’m climbing the rusting steps. As I reach the second floor, out of breath but driven by desperation, I pray I’m not too late. I find the window, wrap my jacket around my balled fist and punch through the glass. Shards slice through the fabric but I ignore the pain. As I brush pieces of glass aside, I’m hit by a cloud of cloying smoke. I bring up my coat’s collar to cover my nose and mouth, slide the broken window open and climb into the building.
Inside, a howling world of fire awaits me. Flames and smoke are everywhere, the heat searing.
“LYNN, WHERE ARE YOU?!”
I surge down the hallway. My body hums with adrenaline. Every fiber of my being is urging me to run the other way, but my girl is trapped in this building and I’m not leaving without her.
“Lynn, can you hear me? LYNN!”
I close in on Lynn’s unit, eyes ticking back and forth, trying to penetrate the columns of smoke. Tongues of red and orange flame roil over the ceiling, crackling as they spread with supernatural speed.
Suddenly, a voice cuts through the roar of the blaze. “Mark...”
I whirl and spot my girlfriend further down the corridor. Smoke inhalation has taken its toll and she’s fighting to stay conscious, but she’s otherwise unharmed.
Two quick strides later, I’m next to her. I give Lynn a quick hug before I grab her hand and pull her along. Her breathing lurches raggedly – who knows how much smoke is in her lungs already. She keeps staring at the burning staircase ahead. Akasha is nowhere to be seen, even though this must be her doing. A crumbling noise draws my attention. The staircase is collapsing. Oh no. I hope that everyone else in the building got out.
I back away from the conflagration, mind racing. We’ll have to retrace my steps and use the fire escape.
Good idea, except for one tiny problem. A wall of surging flames now blocks the way I came from. We’re trapped, the relentless ring of heat closing in around us.
I clutch Lynn to my chest. She is trembling with mortal fear. She knows all too well what is about to happen. Death is approaching fast.
A figure grows visible at the center of the inferno. Akasha. Her body is burning, flames swirling around her. Her hellish gaze finds me and she surges toward us, almost as if she is made of fire herself. Her eyes sparkle with a dark yearning as she approaches. One second she is as beautiful as she was in life, another she is a map of bubbling burn scars. Her haunting visage changes back and forth with each step she takes.
I want to run, but escape has ceased to be an option.I must face Akasha.
“I know what happened to you,” I say.
I hold up her flashing cellphone. Is it her link to our world? I am tempted to toss it into the fire – would this defeat Akasha? – but hesitate. If the blaze that ravaged her body couldn’t destroy the phone, I doubt that a burning building will do the trick. Truth is, I don’t have a plan. How do you stop a ghost?
Akasha draws nearer, my words falling on deaf ears.
“I know about Darryl. How he lied to you... Just like all the others.”
This latest revelation elicits a reaction. Akasha slows her advance.
I forge ahead. “I know how they would promise you love but always leave you afterwards. Akasha, I know what Darryl and Adam did to you.”
Akasha grows still. Encouraged, I continue. “The cops already know what happened. Soon the world will learn the truth. Your story will be told. You can be at peace.”
A frozen moment. The fire rages around us. In a
matter of seconds it will envelop our flesh and force us to suffer the same terrible fate Akasha was forced to endure.
“Akasha, please. We’re innocent.”
Akasha’s features grow masklike again. The old yearning and fury returns. Her blazing gaze daggers into me. A carpet of fire marks her continued approach.
Despite my best efforts, I wasn’t able to reach her. I swap a glance with Lynn, then meet Akasha’s stare again.
“You want me, don't you? If you can have me, will you let her go?”
“Do you love me?” Akasha asks, her voice blending with the roar of the flames. It’s more of a demand than a question.
Seizing the opportunity to save Lynn’s life, I say the words Akasha has been waiting to hear since the moment we met. But as I speak, my eyes never leave Lynn’s. My words may be directed at Akasha, but they’re meant for Lynn.
“I love you...”
Tears stream down Lynn's cheeks. She senses the finality of what is happening here.
This isn't just a declaration of love.
This is goodbye.
I turn toward Akasha and approach the fiery apparition before me. Tendrils of flame dance around us as we meet at the end of the hallway.
But Akasha’s attention remains fixed on Lynn's sobbing form... Somehow my words have achieved the opposite effect. Instead of lulling Akasha into the illusion that she has found true devotion, it has only made her painfully aware of what is really transpiring here.
I’m sacrificing my life to save the woman I love.
Akasha reaches for me but before her burning touch can roast my flesh, she lets out a piercing wail. A horrific sound filled with longing, despair and unrequited emotion. The wall of flame is sucked inward, balling into a giant fireball that suddenly extinguishes itself in a brilliant flash of light.
Lynn and I are left behind in the gutted ruins of her apartment building. The sirens of an approaching fire engine grow audible. I only vaguely notice that Akasha’s cell phone has disappeared from my hand. What does it mean?
I push the thought aside. The only thing that matters is that Lynn is safe. Our bodies remain locked in a tight embrace. As we cling to each other, it feels like we’ll never ever let go.
Love burns you when it’s hot.
But it can also save you.
Epilogue
It was well past two o’clock in the morning and Greg had a serious buzz going. His normal routine was to hit a bar in Manhattan on a Friday night, but today he’d opted to stay local and hang out at a small joint in Forest Hills. The place was a bit hit-or-miss at the best of times, and tonight had been a big miss. Talk about slim pickings. The winter weather was keeping the hotties at home. The few girls he had tried to approach had shot him down pretty much on sight.
But there might still be a chance to salvage the evening... For the last month, Greg had been using Blaze. The app had led to a couple of casual hook-ups. He still preferred meeting girls in the real world, but Blaze could come in handy on a night when the bars and clubs failed him.
He drunkenly scrolled through the app to see who was online. The first few girls didn’t do anything for him and he kept swiping through their pics. He was about to give up when he came across a real looker. This chick was in a league of her own. Smoking hot with mysterious eyes. She seemed a little off, which generally increased the odds of her putting out in their first encounter. Then again, any girl looking for a date on Blaze at two in the morning wasn’t exactly searching for a soulmate.
He even liked her name. Akasha. Sexy and alluring.
He clicked on the “like” button and waited. An excited smile played over his face as a dialogue box opened between them.
Greg: “Hey there... what are you up to?”
Akasha: “Nothing much. Can’t sleep.”
Greg: “Want to come over to my place and watch a movie? I have wine.”
Akasha: “Sounds great.”
Greg smiled and typed in his address. His luck was turning. Despite the cold weather, this might still end up being a hot night.
THE END
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I hope you enjoyed my little supernatural thriller. If this is your first experience of my work, hopefully it whetted the appetite for more. I currently have two other occult supernatural themed series that I’m writing (with a third one in the works).
SHADOW DETECTIVE mixes urban fantasy with horror and should appeal to fans of such TV shows as Constantine, Supernatural and Blade. This isn’t a snarky UF series (even though there is some humor) but offers real chills as Mike Raven battles ghosts, monsters and evil occultists.
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My name is Mike Raven. I hunt nightmares.
Demons murdered my parents when I was eight. Turns out my folks were paranormal investigators and Hell always settles its scores. Naturally I decided to join the family business.
For two decades I've studied the occult and traveled the world fighting monsters. Vampires. Shifters. Demons. Ghosts. I've faced them all. But my biggest challenge lay ahead...
From the moment Celeste stepped into my office, I knew she was in trouble. Black magic trouble. Her father had promised her soul to a powerful demon on the day she was born. Now, twenty-one years later, the forces of darkness were gathering to collect their long-awaited prize.
Guess who's about to pick a fight with the Devil himself...
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CURSED CITY - SHADOW DETECTIVE
PLEASE ENJOY A SPECIAL PREVIEW
DEATH LURKED IN the dark forest.
The signs were everywhere, and you didn’t have to be a seasoned paranormal investigator to pick up on them. An unearthly stillness had settled over the landscape, reminding me that I was the sole living creature foolish enough to brave these parts. The animals that inhabited the woods had all fled. Shadows chased the sunlight shafting through the heavy canopy, and the sky above was the color of melted lead. The syrupy air felt heavy and cloying, as if some strange force was sucking the oxygen from it.
Up ahead, the terrain became more challenging. The trees were taller and more foreboding, the underbrush thicker. Once solid ground was transformed now into a swamp by the unending rain. Scaly trunks and winding, overgrown roots threatened to trip me up, while branches reached out with malevolent intent. With each step, the chilling certainty grew: the forest had declared war against me.
No, not the forest, I reminded myself, but the evil hiding within its deepest shadows.
Undeterred, I pressed onward, knowing I was closing in on my quarry.
Most people with a healthy survival instinct would’ve turned back. Unfortunately, in my line of work, one didn’t get the luxury of walking away from danger. Ever since my family was murdered by demons twenty-one years ago, I’ve dedicated my life to fighting the forces of darkness. My name is Mike Raven, and I hunt monsters.
And sometimes they hunt me.
Today was one of those days.
I paused as my eyes landed on the shredded tent wrapped around one of the trees ahead. Torn strands of blue fabric flapped in the wind like a war-ravaged flag.
Seven separate groups of campers or hikers had gone missing over the last few weeks. Attempts by local law enforcement to comb the woods had come up empty. It was as if the great forest had swallowed nineteen souls whole, only leaving behind a few tattered remnants of their gear.
People disappear every day, but the inverted pentagrams and other occult paraphernalia found near the campsites suggested a supernatural angle to these par
ticular vanishings. Detective John Kove, a former city cop familiar with my reputation as a problem solver for strange cases, had reached out to me about this one. His call had come at the perfect time. A surprising lull in paranormal activity back in the city made me jump at the chance for some action in the countryside.
But it was already turning into the field trip from hell.
As I stood there examining the blood-spattered fabric, little of my appetite for adventure remained. I knew there wouldn’t be a happy ending to the story of these missing campers. All I could hope for at this point was to track down the rampaging beast and prevent it from claiming more innocent victims.
I did have a theory about what sort of evil I might be facing here. My research had unearthed information related to an old legend. More than two hundred years earlier, during the winter of 1879, a witch by the name of Mercy Blackmore was banished to these woods and left to starve as punishment for practicing black magic. For centuries, the Blackmore Witch’s evil had remained dormant.
Until now.
I looked up from the torn tent and my blood turned to ice.
The circle of barren trees around me had changed while my attention was focused on the victims’ shredded tent. Missing person posters now hung from the skeletal trees ahead, the nineteen dead campers staring back at me from their positions in this unholy shrine. Snapshots taken during happier times showed off smiling faces in black and white. The fliers promised substantial rewards for any information about the lost souls in question.
The sight was both heartbreaking and infuriating. This witch was mocking me. I balled a hand around the tent’s blood-caked fabric, anger rising within me.
I will put a stop to this, I thought.
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