Paranormal After Dark: 20 Paranormal Tales of Demons, Shifters, Werewolves, Vampires, Fae, Witches, Magics, Ghosts and More

by Rebecca Hamilton

  “Look at me.”

  She stopped, glimpsing the door to her apartment building in the corner of her eye. Keep walking, don't stop, said a tiny voice inside her.

  “Eve. Look at me.”

  There was something about his voice, something so spell-binding and compelling. It was hard not to look, impossible to not obey his commands. Eve turned toward him, yet somehow a part of her was urging her to run. But she couldn’t run, she was frozen. Eve stared into his bottomless eyes, unable to tear away from his gaze, or his touch.

  “You are exactly what I am looking for, someone pure and so... tender.”

  His accent was so strange, old-fashioned and rigid. It wasn’t Australian that she was sure of. It wasn’t anything she knew. He trailed his fingers down her jawbone. His finger hovered on the end of her chin and then lifted her face to his. His words were jumbled, whispered phrases she couldn't quite catch. All she could see were his perfect, soft lips. “Shall you succeed where others have failed?”

  He didn’t wait for her answer. Instead he stepped closer, towering over her. “Well, we shall see, won't we?”

  He stared into her eyes, as though he seemed to savor this moment, before lowering his head. “Ahh, humans,” he whispered, and then he kissed her.

  Chapter 3

  Adley

  “ADLEY... WHERE THE hell are you? He’s… getting away.” The strained voice panted through the hands-free mic in his ear. The sound of feet clapped like distant thunder followed by a whispered prayer. “Please, please don’t let him take my boy.”

  Adley Scott pushed the Commodore harder, watching the tachometer surge while he gunned the engine. He replayed the voice of his best friend inside his mind. This is Senior Constable Nathan Danver ID number 4659. I need all available units at the children’s playground at Mountainstone Park… a man… a man has just taken my son…. “I’m almost there, Nathan. Hold on. I’m almost there.”

  Cars pulled off the road and out of his way. Adley doubted the flashing lights and sirens were as effective as the gunning engine and speeding metal which headed toward them. The wheel spun in his hands, obeying his control, although not without a fight.

  He scanned the cars and trees, searching for the park entrance sign. “I’m almost there. Where are you?”

  “Running… east… path… up… mountain.”

  Catching a glimpse of the Mountainstone Park sign, Adley turned the car into the gravel area and drove until the trees stopped him. He wrenched on the handbrake, skidding the car to a stop at the bottom of the embankment. “I’m on my way, Nathan. I’m coming.”

  He grabbed the two-way, slammed the door shut and locked it. He needed to keep the line of communication open with Nathan, so he’d use the radio to contact the Police Communications Radio Room, VKR. The trail stretched out before him and he took off, leaving the vehicle behind. The muscles of his thighs hardened under the strain as he raced up the mountain. One lone thought resounded through his head. Please. Let Luke be alive. Let this be an average perv….

  “I’m… gaining… on… him.”

  The voice wheezed in his ear, hard and dry like a desert wind, before a thump and then silence. “Nathan? Nathan, can you hear me?”

  He pushed harder. His footing slipped and he reached out to break his fall, his shiny new shoes no match for the shale terrain.

  “Is it him?” The Woodcutter? Please let it be some run-of- the-mill perv who has Luke. Anyone else but him. “Nathan. Nathan, answer me, for fuck’s sake!”

  The radio remained silent.

  He’s dead… Nathan’s dead and now the Woodcutter has Luke. The hair on the back of Adley’s neck lifted and a cold chill swept through him. He gripped his fists tighter and pumped his arms. The trees swayed and Adley shook his head, warding off the thoughts, even though this fit the Woodcutter’s modus operandi perfectly. East, he went east. Just keep running. It felt like his lungs had caught fire as he crested the hill. He sucked in the hot afternoon air and stared at the divided trail. East or West?

  Two female hikers walked toward him from the west, their binoculars bouncing off heavy breasts. He shoved the two-way in his pocket. Palming his shield with one hand, Adley grabbed one of the hikers with the other. “Did you… see someone… chasing… a… man with a kid?”

  The heavy-set female shook her head quickly and stepped away from him. “No.”

  He turned east and prayed his partner was right, pushing his body off into a sprint once more. “Nathan… Nathan, can you hear me?”

  This is Matthew all over again… isn’t it?

  He shook his head, his knees and ankles jarring as he sped along the path. No, it’s not.

  Yes it is, admit it. In three days you’ll be called to an alley where you’ll find his body… and it’ll be cut into pieces. First it was Matthew and now Luke. You’ll have no one left.

  A clearing emerged before him. People stood gawking at something… no… someone… fuck! Wide-eyed women clutched children to their bodies, and a group of smirking teenagers huddled around a bark bench. Adley yelled, but it was no more than a whimper. His lungs felt like sandpaper. “Move!”

  No one took any notice. He spat, hoping to dampen the desert inside his throat, and tried again. This time nothing came out but a wheeze and a few drops of precious saliva. So he used his body and pushed through the crowd to where Nathan knelt.

  From between Nathan’s denim-clad legs, an arm waved at Adley. The limb jerked under the pressure of being twisted at an unnatural angle, the cruel pressure gleaned from every drunken bar fight and Nathan’s twenty years on the force. The piece of shit on the ground was going nowhere fast.

  “Luke?” Adley managed to gasp. Nathan jerked his head. Adley’s gaze followed the motion, toward a spot in the shade where Luke sat, playing with the ugliest dog he’d ever seen. Adley made for the boy, picking him up in one sweep and crushing him against his chest. There were no words, just the release of fear's hold, leaving him numb.

  “Gross, Uncle Adley. You’re all sweaty.” Luke pulled away and wiped at his face.

  “Are you okay, Luke? Did he hurt you?”

  Gut-wrenching images came to life inside his mind. But the worst ones had not been realized, no, not this time. This time, what was left of his family was still alive.

  “No, he didn’t hurt me, Uncle Adley. But I think he hurt Buster. I heard him yelp.”

  He ruffled Luke’s hair and stared at the bulging eyes of the dog, its jaw slack and covered by drooping jowls. “What the hell is that thing?”

  “He’s a pug! Dad bought him for me today.” Luke’s smile was infectious. “Isn’t he awesome?”

  Adley smiled back. “Yeah. Awesome. You sit tight and I’ll go and see if your Dad’s okay.”

  Luke glanced over to where Nathan knelt on top of the perp. His voice grew quiet and his little fist gripped the dog’s lead. “He tried to hurt Buster. He tried to take him away.”

  Adley had been at his job long enough to understand what Luke was doing. The horror of what he’d just been through was too traumatic for his fragile mind to admit it wasn’t the hound the bad guy was after. So the dog replaced him. Projecting his fears onto the dog would be the only way Luke could cope.

  The lump in Adley’s throat felt like an unseen force choking him. “Well, Buster’s safe now, Luke. Nothing’s going to happen to him. He has me and your father here to protect him.”

  Luke dropped his gaze to the dog, his eyes shining bright as the child’s tears threatened to fall. He reached up, wiped at his face and turned away. “See, it’s okay, Buster. I told you Uncle Adley would come and he’s going to kick the bad guy’s ass!”

  Adley felt his heart soften and swell. He flashed a smile and ruffled Luke’s hair. “Don’t let your Mum hear you swear like that, or she’ll kick my ass.”

  Luke smiled up at Adley and then sat cross-legged on the ground, pulling on the dog’s lead. The mutt yapped and tried to pull his head through his collar. Luke held onto the
dog tighter. His playful voice sounded like Vivaldi to Adley’s ears as he turned away; sweet and innocent. There’d been a moment when he didn’t think he’d hear that sound again.

  Cold, hard anger shored up his softened heart as Adley strode to where Nathan sat waiting. Adley and Nathan exchanged a look only those on the force could ever understand. The thought of what could’ve been was now replaced with what had to be done. An unspoken rule came with the badge—no one messes with a copper’s kid.

  Nathan nodded toward his belt, “Got your cuffs? I left mine at home.”

  Adley reached around his back, unhooked the cuffs from his belt and slapped them into Nathan’s open palm. “What happened?”

  “I brought Luke and his new dog up here to play. I only took my eyes off him for a minute. A fucking minute. The next thing I know, the goddamn dog was yelping and this piece of shit was dragging Luke into the trees. A few more seconds, Adley…. If I’d have been slower, or Jesus, if Sarah had bought Luke up here….”

  “Christ….” Adley mumbled, rubbing his face.

  The ratcheting sound of the cuffs drew his attention to the scum sprawled between Nathan’s bent knees.

  “Get the fuck off me!” The bastard screamed, writhing on the ground while the cuffs tightened. Nathan stood, dragging the offender with him.

  Adley stared into the perp's eyes. That first instant when Adley met a criminal’s gaze told him more than any lie detector ever could. Hard brown eyes snapped up and held his gaze for a second before the perv’s face contorted into a smile.

  “Adley Scott, meet Edric Hasting, the fucker who tried to kidnap my son.”

  Adley followed Nathan’s movements as his former partner rifled through a black leather wallet before throwing the worn leather onto the ground before him.

  Nathan twisted, patting down the outside of Edric’s trousers. He reached in and drew out a closed pocket knife, a roll of grey tape, and a folded piece of white paper. The sight of the knife and tape clenched his gut. His breath left his chest and for a long time nothing replaced it, only his thoughts filled him. They tore at his heart. Grey electrical tape… just like…. He lifted his eye to look at Edric Hasting. How many times had he seen tape just like this? Only in his memory, the tape was splattered with blood.

  It’s just a coincidence, nothing more. Don’t read anything into this that isn’t there. Not everything is about you. He tried to listen to the voice and work this case just like any attempted kidnapping. My reaction could be wrong, he argued with the voice in his head… although it never had been before.

  Adley reached inside his pocket and grabbed the evidence bag he carried. He opened the wallet and reached for his radio while Nathan kicked the perp’s legs and shoved him to the ground. “Sit.”

  “Corland one-five mobile to VKR,” Adley said into the radio and waited.

  A minute later Communications responded, “Go ahead Corland one-five.”

  “Can I have an ETA on the other units?”

  “Stand by, Corland one-five… Corland one-five ETA for Corland nine will be fifteen to twenty minutes. He can make it sooner if you need.”

  Adley looked over to Nathan, knowing how stretched their resources already were. There was only one patrol car on the road and they were caught at a service station hold-up. The boys would want to be here, but there was nothing else they could do. “That’s okay VKR, tell them I have this under control and while I have you, I’d like a license check on an Edric Hasting. That’s Hotel, Alpha, Sierra, Tango, India, November, Golf. Date of Birth, one-nine-zero-five-seven-eight.”

  “Copy, Corland one-five, stand by for details.”

  He waited for what seemed like an eternity while the sound of the constant radio chatter rolled in his ear. “Ah, Corland one-five, is your radio secure?”

  Nathan’s head snapped up. Adley lowered the volume with shaking fingers before he stepped away. “Yes, go ahead, VKR.”

  Adley concentrated on the words VKR spoke, while inside his head he built a different case file, one filled with haunting images and bloodied, grey tape.

  “There’s nothing on the license check. But I do have a flag for a note on file under that name and DOB, in relation to questioning back on fifteen December, 2011.”

  Adley’s gut clenched in warning. Acid burned all the way up into his throat as he urged, “What was the questioning in relation to, VKR?”

  “It was in relation to Operation Hansel and Gretel. Edric Hasting was part of the area sweep and was questioned at length.”

  The screech of metal jerked his attention away. A swing moved in the breeze. It swung back and forth with no laughing child to carry, its purpose now empty. He stared at the few faces that stayed to watch the show. Go home, he wanted to shout, don’t you know there’s a killer out here? Most of the parents had left and would probably never come here again. Not after today. If they had seen what Adley had, they’d never leave their homes again. His gut twisted inside out, a payback, complete with acid reflux and ulcer pain. It screamed, I fucking told you so!

  Adley rubbed his stomach and rocked forward on the balls of his feet. He could feel his jaw tighten and the corded muscles of his neck pulled taut as he looked to Luke. He watched his godson hug his dog tightly to his thin chest. Questioned at length… why? The thought came back to him and he jerked the radio to his mouth. “Sorry, Radio, Corland one-five. Does the record say why, or the outcome of the questioning?”

  “Sorry, Corland one-five, nothing else is on record.”

  Communications carried on while he searched his mind for the name, for any reference to an Edric Hasting in the files which covered his desk. He could recall none. “Thank you, VKR, over.”

  Twelve case files covered every inch of his desk. The media called the operation Hansel and Gretel. The eight-by-ten forensic photos haunted Adley. It was a make-or-break case, the Inspector warned him before he handed over the folders. That had been at the beginning. That was before his Matthew became victim number five. Case solved or not, Adley felt he would be broken anyway by the end. But he now had something to live for. Something he could do right. He would make sure Luke was safe and put this animal behind bars.

  Nathan drilled him with a torn expression of wanting to know and not wanting to, all at the same time, as he yanked Edric Hasting to his feet. Adley shook his head, sparing his best friend from the devastation of knowing it could be him. If nothing else, Adley could do that. He bagged the wallet, the knife, and then stopped. The paper was well worn, the edges creased until the scrap had torn through in places. He unfolded the grubby page and stared at the markings denoting parks and streets. Adley studied every scratch on the paper, knowing each highlighted location intimately. He should—each crime scene was etched into his memory. Locations where twelve murdered innocents had been found. Twelve murders and thirteen markings marred the page before him. Luke Danver would have filled the score. Adley tried not to allow his emotions to show, but the hurt struck too close to home.

  “Sick sonofabitch!” Adley growled. A plastic bottle rattled as it pitched along the ground in the wind. The tap, tap, tap noise increased the faster it spun. Adley’s heart jacked and spiked, matching the sound, and his breathing followed suit. His actions were not those of a hardened cop now, not anymore. They were those of an uncle in mourning.

  Matthew’s sweet face rushed at him. Memories of his nephew were all he had left. Shining grey eyes, just like his mother’s, and crooked front teeth. Adley had been there since the moment of Matthew’s birth, until the seven-year-old’s death two months ago. Adley’s nostrils flared. He felt his face flush as the pain took hold. Ripping pain, shredding him apart from the inside, it seemed to Adley his wounds would never, ever heal.

  Adley strode to where Edric waited. The handcuffed perv watched him with eyes that glittered with something akin to excitement. A twitch of his lips flashed his teeth for a second. He should be watching Adley with fear. Adley cocked his fist and lashed out, catching Edric fucking Has
ting squarely on the jaw. The powerful beating of Adley’s heart and rush of air in his lungs blocked the world out. Nothing else mattered in that moment, nothing but revenge.

  Edric’s head snapped back. He stumbled and swayed backwards. The suspect tried his best to remain upright, his arms clasped tightly behind him with the cuffs. Do it…do it…kill him now. Kill him for Matthew. Adley wanted to, he ached to see this piece of shit draw his last breath so he’d never hurt another child.

  Edric righted himself, his face lowered, hidden from view. Adley sucked in air, waiting for Edric to turn around, waiting for the voice inside to argue again. His conscience remained mute.

  Adley's gaze drifted to Nathan and dropped to the ground in order to hide his thoughts from his mate. Adley knew this was the same tape. The folded map only added weight to his suspicions.

  “What?” Nathan growled, demanding answers he couldn’t give. Not yet, not until he knew for sure. Nathan didn’t understand. He’d given up being a detective for general duties a long time ago, needing the regular hours for his family. They might have ended as partners, but still remained close. Adley wouldn’t hurt Nathan on a suspicion. Electrical tape wouldn’t hold weight in court. Hell, most of the men in Corland had some type of tape in their cars. How could he prove otherwise? But the map was the key. Twelve murders and thirteen marks... Not everyone had that though, did they? The thought sent a shock through his body… the map was the key to this whole thing.

  Adley had been taken off the case after his nephew’s body was found. His change of duties didn’t stop him from working the case on his own time. The images of Matthew’s tortured body killed something inside him. While the damage to his nephew had been visceral and cruel, it had also been quick, and for that Adley was thankful. But the killer coined the Woodcutter had changed. His need for cruelty seemed to grow and he began keeping his victims alive longer.

  The image of little Jessica Porter was one Adley knew would haunt him for the rest of his days. He still saw the photos when he closed his eyes at night, photos of fingers and hands sawn and bloody, blonde curls. She was someone’s eight-year-old daughter, someone’s granddaughter, and someone’s niece. Adley shook his head. I’ve got to do it. I’ve got to do something.