IN DARKNESS WE MUST ABIDE
A Supernatural Serial
Rhiannon Frater
In Darkness we Must Abide
by Rhiannon Frater
Copyright 2013. All Rights Reserved.
Kindle Edition
Cover art and design by Corey Hollins
Cover typography by Ashley Dawn
Interior formatting by Kody Boye
Special Thanks to:
r0man for abstract brushes 3 (http://r0man.de)
Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored, or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form, or by any means (electronically, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise) without the proper written permission of the copyright owners, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.
This book is a work of fiction. People, places, events and situations are the product of the author’s imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living, dead or undead, or historical events, is purely coincidental.
To my mother, for always believing in me.
Episode 1:
Death Comes Home
With his presence still sizzling on her skin and his hazel eyes still haunting her thoughts, Vanora pondered the words that Armando had spoken in his silky Spanish accent.
You must go home, he had said.
Hugging herself, she gazed into the darkness surrounding her, wondering if Armando still lingered in the shadows observing her. That he had sought her out both thrilled and terrified her. When she had first seen him standing on the lighted path of her apartment complex, the mere sight of his enigmatic smile had set her heart aflutter. But now that he had slipped back into the darkness, her heart beat with fear.
Could she go back to Houston and face all she had run from? Could she forget the evils she had beheld on her eighteenth birthday? Could she just abandon the life she had meticulously created for herself over the last two years and return to the mansion that was haunted by death and pain?
You must go home.
Armando’s words echoed in her mind.
Vanora lifted a hand to brush away her white-blond hair and turned to face the dark waters of the swimming pool that glimmered in the moonlight.
To go home meant she would at last cast aside her trepidation and face the monsters of her nightmares. Was she strong enough to do so? Was she strong enough to go home and save the ones she loved?
With a surrendering sigh, she admitted to herself that it was time to return to her childhood home. It was difficult to concede, but her reluctance to return was partially because she feared allowing Armando into her life once more. Though the creatures that dwelled in the darkness were terrifying, it was Armando who surely frightened her.
Only he could truly steal away her heart and soul…
Ten Years Earlier - 2001
Under dreary, somber skies, Death arrived that Winter morning to claim their souls. Shrouded in the darkness of a rotting coffin, a soulless evil slumbered in silence, waiting for the night.
A dark and musty gloom had settled heavily over the Socoli Estate with the arrival of the dead. Cold rain drizzled off black umbrellas, as dark figures trudged solemnly beside the long line of ancient coffins. Adding to the dismal scene was the destination of the mourners: a grotesquely Gothic mausoleum newly erected on the estate grounds.
From behind a rain streaked window of the Socoli Mansion, a young child watched the procession below with morbid fascination. Riveted by the grim scene, young Vanora Socoli hummed while dragging her tiny, very pale fingers through the condensation decorating the cold glass panes. Her ghostly reflection peered back at her and she stuck out her tongue at the girl in the window.
Pale white-blond curls fell neatly to the collar of her black velvet dress and framed a heart shaped face decorated with big eyes fringed with long whitish lashes. Though Vanora strenuously claimed her eyes were blue, they actually purple in hue, a trait of her albinism.
All morning the family had been gathering for this event and she had hoped to be among them since the sun was nowhere to be seen, but she had been banished to the playroom by her older sister. Vanora scowled. She hated being treated like a little kid even if she was a little kid.
Roman Socoli, her much older half-brother, had worked very hard to bring the dead Socolis to Houston, Texas. Even though Vanora did not fully understand why he had felt obligated to do so, she felt proud that he had succeeded in his task, even if it meant he had brought home a bunch of creepy dead people.
Vanora returned her gaze to the ceremony and watched until she saw the heavy door of the mausoleum close behind the dead and the priest gave his final blessing. Emulating the dark shapes of her family below, the little girl genuflected, then hopped off of her perch on the window seat. The ten-year-old hurried along the darkened hallway to the stairs and sat on the top step to wait for her brother and sister to return from the funeral. Watching the front door expectantly, Vanora chewed on her thumbnail. Her sister had painted her nails a soft pink color the night before, but most of the lacquer was gnawed off.
The heavy door swung open a few minutes later and Alisha Socoli entered, shaking the rain from her umbrella.
“Hello,” Vanora said.
“Sweetie, what are you doing sitting there? I thought you were watching Dracula Bites Frankenstein or something like that.” Even wet and cold from the rain, Alisha was beautiful. She was tall and slim with a delicate face framed with gold hair and graced with soulful blue eyes.
“I wanted to see the coffins.” Vanora said pointedly.
“Ugh! Little girls should be playing with dolls, not watching funerals in their own back yard. Why Roman ever wanted to bring all the dead Socolis from the estate in Romania I’ll never understand.” Alisha visibly shuddered.
“Family owner, that’s what he told me.”
“That’s family honor, Snow Pea,” Alisha corrected, her somber expression cracking under a smile. Again she shivered, sweeping a hand through her blond hair.
“Are you scared?” Vanora asked, tilting her head.
“Scared?” Alisha blinked in surprise, but appeared to actually ponder the question. “No, no. Roman did the right thing. I just…” She shrugged dismissively.
“Just what?” Vanora persisted.
“I’m famished.” Alisha held out her hand. “Let’s get a piece of chocolate cake.”
“Yay!” Slipping off the step, Vanora gripped her sister’s damp, cool hand and walked alongside her toward the kitchen. “At least they can’t come and get us.
“Snow Pea, what a horrible thing to say!” Alisha shivered. “Ugh!”
“Did you see Night of the Living Dead? It was so gross! All these dead people, all green and gross, climb out of their graves and start eating people. And they walk like this,” Vanora twisted her body and hobbled along. “Brains! Brains! I need brains!”
“Will chocolate cake do, zombie person?” Alisha asked, rolling her eyes.
“Sure, if it has brain frosting.” Vanora pushed open the kitchen door and hopped in with a flourish.
“That’s it! I don’t think I should let you watch any more horror movies. You’re awful!”
“Oh, I think she’s an angel,” Roman Socoli declared walking up behind them. A handsome man in his early thirties, he had dark thick hair and striking gray eyes. He swept his youngest sister up into his arms. “I saw you watching from the window.”
“I wanted to see the coffins.” Vanora played with the
small cross pin on his tie.
Roman laughed. “Really? Did you find them exciting?”
“Nah. I couldn’t really see them. Stupid ol’ rain made it hard to see.”
“The old ones are at peace now. It was important to bring them here before the government in Romania destroyed the old Socoli Estate. Family honor is very important, Vanora. I want you to always remember that. A family must stay strong and protect each other. That’s why Alisha and I have raised you since our father and your mother died in that horrible accident. We Socolis always take care of each other.” Roman grinned and kissed Vanora’s forehead. “And we also took you in because you were too weird for the people at the orphanage.”
“Really?” Vanora eyed him skeptically as he set her down. She didn’t truly believe him, but he looked a little serious.
Alisha glanced up from where she was busy slicing into the remains of a delicious chocolate cake they’d had for desert the night before. Winking at Roman, she said, “Truth be told, we tried to pawn you off on the rest of the family and when they didn’t want you, we went to the orphanages. Then the dog pound, but we found out they don’t take kids.”
“You’re lying!” Vanora protested. “I’m a wonderful kid and anybody would love to have me as their kid. And that’s a fact!”
“I guess we don’t have to worry about her self-esteem,” Roman decided.
Vanora hopped onto one of the stools surrounding the small kitchen island and grabbed a piece of cake in one hand, making quite a mess. “Brain frosting, right?”
“Of course! Want a piece, Roman?”
Looking vaguely ill, Roman made a face. “With brain frosting, I don’t think so.”
Munching happily on her cake, Vanora grinned with delight. “Roman, it’s pretend brain frosting.”
“Oh, I see! Well, then I’ll take a piece, too!” Sliding onto the stool next to her, he set his elbows on the counter.
Alisha obligingly slid a plate over to him, then handed him a spoon so he could tuck into the slice she had served him.
Vanora barely remembered her parents. They had died when she was four and Alisha had Roman were the closest thing she had to parents. Though their images remained ingrained in her mind from all the photos tucked into fancy frames and scattered throughout the grand house, but it was Roman’s strong presence and Alisha’s warm smile that made her feel safe.
“Roman, you know what?”
“What, Vanora?”
“I’ll always take care of you and Alisha.”
“You want to know a secret, Vanora? Roman whispered, leaning toward the little girl.
“What?” Vanora asked.
“You already do.” And with a wicked smile, he bit into her chunk of cake and kissed her forehead.
“You’re weird,” Vanora decided over another bite.
“It must run in the family,” Alisha said. She crossed her eyes and stuck out her tongue.
The siblings burst into laughter as the rain fell softly beyond the kitchen windows.
*
Roman Socoli stared solemnly out his bedroom window. Night had fallen over the estate and the trees surrounding the house now resembled a darkened mountain range. The sight vaguely reminded him of Romania. Roman hadn’t seen Romania until after the collapse of the Soviet Union. He’d been born in Houston, Texas to parents who still remembered their homeland and instilled in him a loyalty to a country he had never seen.
His mother, Anna, had died when he was ten, and his father soon after married Carys, Alisha and Vanora’s mother, a native of Wales that he’d met on a business trip. Though Roman was proud of his heritage, his life and future were in Texas, far from a past of pain and despair inflicted on his family.
The glistening white stone mausoleum caught his eye. Satisfaction filled him. He had made the right decision in bringing the dead Socolis home. It was rewarding to preserve what he could of his heritage. His grandparents had escaped communist Romania with few family treasures in the 1950’s to escape the Securitate. Their estate had been co-opted by the government, and later, after Nicolae Ceaușescu had been deposed, the new government had retained the property.
When Roman had returned recently to negotiate for his ancestors, it had angered him to see the former Socoli Estate – now converted into a government-run mental facility – falling into ruins. It was a sad reminder that life is fragile. He seemed destined to learn that lesson over and over again in his life. First his mother, then his father and stepmother had died tragically. At least Anna had known the cancer would claim her life and had prepared for the end, but Anton and Carys had died swiftly when their car slipped over the railing of a bridge and plunged into the shallow river bed below.
Dark thoughts for a dark day, Roman thought. Stop it now or you’ll be up all night drenched in memories.
There was a soft knock on his bedroom door.
“Come in.”
Alisha entered in her nightgown and robe. “Vanora is finally asleep. She was really hyper over today’s events. Her wild imagination, you know. And here I was worried that she might be upset. She’s positively thrilled to have that thing out there.”
“I just hope she’ll get out of bed in time for school tomorrow. I don’t feel like being late to work.”
“I’ll take her if she gives you grief.” Alisha drew near the window and peered out into the darkness. “Ugh, that thing! I didn’t know you could see it from your bedroom!”
“It’s a nice view. The contractor did a very good job building an old-world mausoleum.”
Alisha hugged herself tightly, shaking her head. “Yeah. A mausoleum. Not a nice greenhouse or cabana. A mausoleum.”
“Oh, c’mon now, Alisha. Don’t tell me it’s still giving you the creeps.”
“It was bad enough when it was being built, but it’s worse now that there're bodies in it.” She made a face as she sat onto his bed and plucked at her robe’s belt. “Truthfully, Roman, ever since you brought those coffins home, I’ve felt...” she faltered, her gaze falling to her bare feet. “Well, I feel frightened.”
Roman was slightly surprised at his sister’s confession. He understood that she was an artist and prone to being overemotional and extremely over-imaginative, but this was preposterous. They had discussed the importance of preserving their family’s dignity by bringing the bodies to the estate in America. He had thought she truly understood why it was so important to him.
“Alisha, you know I brought them here because they are our ancestors and deserve the decency of being buried properly on the Socoli Estate, wherever it may exist in the world.”
Alisha sighed. “I know that!”
“Then what is the problem?”
“They scare me, okay?”
Roman chuckled, shaking his head. Sweeping his dark hair off his face, he looked at her with amusement. “Alisha, you have no reason at all to fear them. They are dead!”
Lightly biting her bottom lip, she seemed to be hesitant, apparently considering her words. “Roman, why was the coffin of our great-great-great-grandfather chained?”
Roman groaned. The chained coffin had caused him a lot of grief and had been quite a scandal when removed from the mausoleum in Romania. He didn’t feel like discussing the topic again, but he could tell his sister was unnerved. “Alisha, it was an incredibly disrespectful act by some very foolish people. Superstitious fools probably believed our ancestor was a vampire and chained the coffin. The estate did exist in Wallachia, you know.”
“Didn’t you think that maybe it was a good thing the coffin was chained?”
Wearily, Roman said, “Alisha, please, don’t start. I don’t want to hear about vampires.”
“I don’t believe in vampires, Roman, it’s just that when you said what you did about the chains being removed, I felt a chill flow through me.” Alisha slid off the bed and moved to press her face against the glass, straining to see the mausoleum.
Brushing his fingers lightly over his upper lip, Roman studied hi
s sister. “Alisha, I know you pride yourself on your Celtic Second Sight, but the uneasiness you feel has to do with the simple fact that today we dealt with death. We were both reminded of our own mortality today. I was thinking of Dad and Carys just before you came in.”
“I know you think I am just a hysterical artist with a wild imagination, but trust me when I say something isn’t right. You’re Romanian. Can’t you believe in the Second Sight?”
Roman chuckled lightly. “I believe in what I can see.”
Alisha gave him a frustrated look, then flung up her hands. “Fine. I’m going to bed.”
“Alisha, I don’t want to demean your opinion or upset you. It’s just that they’re dead and buried. There’s no way on this earth they can hurt you.”
“My mind tells me the same thing, but a voice within me is crying out that something is horribly, terribly wrong.” Alisha kissed her brother’s cheek good night and opened the door.
“Good night, Alisha,” Roman responded, returning his gaze to the view beyond the window. He saw his sister’s worried expression reflected in the panes of the window.
“Roman, are you ever afraid?”
Roman shook his head. “Should I be?”
“Maybe we all should be,” Alisha responded before closing the door behind her as she left.
She’s getting stranger every day, Roman mused.
Sometimes his sister mystified him nearly as much as Carys had when he was a child. Alisha had not only inherited Carys’s flowing golden hair and blue eyes, but her artistic talent and strong belief in the supernatural. Roman was more like their father: pragmatic and even-tempered. This evening, Alisha was acting odder than usual, but Roman simply couldn’t put any faith in her feelings. There was no way he could believe the dead could harm them. They were dead and buried safely in the mausoleum.
“The dead are dead,” he muttered.
A shadow flickered across the lawn and before Roman could fully catch a glimpse of it, it vanished.
In Darkness We Must Abide: The Complete First Season: Episodes 1-5 Page 1
