Children of Darkness

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Children of Darkness Page 1

by Courtney Shockey




  Table of Contents

  Children of Darkness

  Copyright

  Acknowledgements

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Read on…

  Copyright© 2015 by Courtney Shockey

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in, or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form, or by any means without the prior written permission of the copyright owner.

  Cover Design by: Cover Me, Darling

  Formatting by: Athena Interior Book Design & Cover Me, Darling

  Edited by: Grammar Inspection Task Force

  My husband and kids keep me going. I live and breathe for you. You’re my everything and I thank you for letting me take time out to write.

  My family means the world to me. I couldn’t do it without every one of you either standing behind me, or standing beside me. I can’t name everyone because that would be a book in itself so just know I love you all and appreciate you!

  Friends are important to have in your life whether they’re encouraging you or letting you know how badly you suck. Again, way too many people to name and I will forget at least a dozen. Lol! Just know I couldn’t do this without you.

  To my writing friends that said yes to helping me: THANK YOU! I literally couldn’t have done anything without your help. Imy Santiago is such an amazing woman and we will see your name in shining lights one day. Thank you for calming me down and letting me know exactly how much went into this. JoAnna Grace is such a blessing! She gave me the push I needed to start doing this. You’re amazing! A giant, squishy hug to Kimberly Blalock for throwing so much knowledge at me that I went on overload. My friend Amber Ross and I traveled this road together and held each other up more than once. We did it! To John Tucker for taking the time to be a beta; you helped me more than you know. Thank you. I know I’m forgetting people. You know me!

  Thank you to all the groups and pages that have me as a member. Marisa with Cover Me Darling is to die for! She will give you what you want when you don’t even know yourself. Misty and April have been so helpful and I love you girls! To the reader; THANK YOU. I hope you enjoy this story as much as I did and I look forward to reading what you think.

  Last but definitely not least, to my editors at Grammar Inspection Task Force; my ass would be in a world of hurt without you two. Your notes, comments, and suggestions helped me so much. I laughed, cried, and maybe threw things, but I thank you for making my writing better. I hope I make you proud.

  Keep up with the author via Twitter, Facebook and Instagram!

  Facebook: facebook.com/Courtneytheauthor

  Twitter: @ShockeyWrites

  Instagram: @courtneygirl87

  Session 41 with Emily Frost: Arms crossed as she walks in and head staring at the floor. Parents inform me of frequent tantrums and less verbal connection throughout the week. Session lasts fifteen minutes before Emily withdraws and calls for her mother. Session ended.

  I rub my eyes as I look over my notes. As soon as I add a little more, I'll get out of here. I put my pen to paper and scribble thoughts as they come.

  After months of sessions, there is no progression or breakthrough. Emily still will not reveal her personal thoughts or emotions. I feel a connection to this child, but I'm unsure as to why.

  The words blur so I glance at the clock adorning my office wall. Six in the evening and I’m still here. I sigh and lean my head back with my hand over my eyes deep in thought. The sound of ticking from the wall clock increases. Tick, tick. Click, click.

  My eyes shoot open and search for the different noise now filling my ears. There's nothing beyond the lamp light of my desk. My eyes see only inky black darkness until something moves from the corner. Two big eyes are reflecting back at me.

  I awake with my heart pounding in my chest and fear clogging my throat. I sit up and look around my office. Just a dream. It was just a dream. I rub my hand over my chest to calm the muscle still pounding erratically. Fresh air. I need to get out of here.

  My rolling briefcase is already stuffed with patient files, but I manage to quickly fit Emily’s in. Before I turn off all the lights, I take a last glance around then leave the building for the weekend.

  The speakers in my car play an upbeat song and I hum along while sitting in traffic. My favorite bookstore attracts my vision and I alter my course to the parking lot. Snagging a front row spot, I smile as I see books on display through the windows. The door chimes and I’m greeted by happy cashiers. I wave to the familiar faces as I stride to the best section in this place. The fantasy section.

  My hands skim the spines as I take in all the titles. Various authors flitter through my sight, but I’m only here for one book. The latest installment of my favorite series. My eyes catch the majestic display and I swipe the book. Finally! Three months of waiting better pay off.

  On the way to the counter, I pass by the children’s section and see a cover picture that throws me back to my childhood. My dad sitting beside me on the pink covers of my bed with the same book propped open. While he reads a story of pigs and a wolf, I giggle watching his animated facial features and listening to his terse voice change with each character.

  “Is that all, ma’am?” the cashier asks at the counter.

  I nod and hand over the book.

  Later that evening, I walk through the door and hear the scraping paws of my German shepherd, Max, as he runs to greet me.

  “Hey there, Max. Did you miss me?”

  His response is to lick my face, hands, and hair as I chuckle. “Good boy. I brought take-out because I am not cooking tonight. I have too many files to go through this weekend.”

  We finish our dinner and I call my boyfriend, Coby, as I organize patient files on my desk. “Hey, baby. How goes it?”

  “Hello, beautiful. I finalized on the Parker Street house this afternoon. I already know I’m awesome, but you can go ahead and remind me,” he fishes.

  I laugh while shaking my head. “You’re something, all right. I have a ton of work to do this weekend. It is not going to be fun.”

  “Can you pencil me in for tomorrow? I’d like to set a formal date with my lady, if you don’t mind.”

  I pause for effect then respond, “I might be able to rearrange some things for my man.”

  We laugh and talk for a few more minutes, then hang up. “Time to get to work, Max.”

  He curls up on my feet and quickly starts snoring. That’s my cue to get busy.

  My hands are shaking as I lie on my bed. The covers move over my head with each breath and I shut my eyes tightly. My heart pounds in my ears, pulsing throughout my body. But it isn’t loud enough to shut out the sound of small feet hitting the floor in my room. Or the chilling giggles.

  “Just leave me alone!” I plead for the hundredth time.

  Every time the nightlight goes out, they come out to play. Grotesque little creatures with the small bodies of children and horrid faces that haunt my dreams. Each creature wears a different face, but the thick, black tongues and jagged, stained teeth are all the same. Their sharp claws cut through my toys like knives through flesh. The dark is their playground.

  Tears trail down my face. I pray that the morning will come quickly or that my mom would check on me.

  I wake up with a start and look around. I'm not in my childhood bedroom. I am not a child anymore. My pillowcase isn’t light pink and my room doesn't have toys strewn everywhere. I breathe in a sigh of relief after I finish reassuring myself and wipe the sweat from my
brow. The nightmare left me shaken and cold. Max is lying on the floor next to my bed looking up at me.

  “Bad dream again, Max. They’re becoming frequent and with more detail,” I say as I lean over the bed to rub his head. He licks my hand and jumps on my bed as I continue to analyze my newest dream. Thinking aloud is both soothing and productive.

  “When did they come back? A few months ago, maybe?” I scratch Max’s back as he lays his head on my side. “It has been more than a few months. They never really went away. I would have the nightmares on occasion. But it seems as though they’ve been increasing more and more within the span of half a year. Why are they coming back and what do they mean?”

  I idly scratch his back and belly for a few more minutes while I continue my self-analysis. A yawn holds me in place and I stretch my limbs generously before we roll out of bed to begin our day. He goes outside while I shower and make a pot of coffee. I quickly get his breakfast out and he eats while I drink my coffee and flip through the channels. My phone beeps and I check my messages.

  Coby lets me know he’s on his way to pick me up after breakfast and wants to spend the day together at the beach. I reply with a smile and look down at Max.

  “Well, looks like we’ll be gone for a while. Does the beach sound fun?”

  Max barks and wags his tail enthusiastically.

  “I’ll take that as a yes.”

  Should I bring my swimsuit? I dress in shorts and a breezy shirt with my bikini underneath. I shoulder my purse as the doorbell rings. I quickly stuff a change of undergarments in the purse as I walk to the door with Max bouncing beside me.

  “You always look so tired, baby.” Coby says as he hugs me tight.

  If you only knew. “Well, thank you! I was wondering if this shirt made the bags under my eyes stand out,” I playfully reply. I hug him back and take in the warmth he radiates. Max greets him by licking his hands and jumping.

  “Good to see you, too, buddy.”

  Coby and I are the same height, coming in at six feet. His auburn hair is cut short and glows like fire in the summer sun against his tan cheeks. His eyes remind me of the color of an ice blue glacier.

  In contrast, my raven hair falls past my shoulders and my eyes are the color of the deepest forest green. My friends tell me I’m too skinny and my face is a bit drawn. I guess it comes with being too afraid to close my eyes at night.

  I turn the conversation to a different path. “All set for the beach.” I grab his hand and walk toward his car.

  He is the sweetest man I have ever known. We met through Max, in a sense. Max and I were on a morning jog through the park by our house. His leash slipped from wrist and he went off, streaking through the grass with me yelling behind him. I lost him over a hill and when I came panting over the top, a stranger was affectionately petting Max. My first reaction was to yell at Max, but the stranger was laughing and loving on him.

  “It’s okay. He’s a sweet boy, aren’t you?” he coos.

  Max hopped between us, wagging his tail. We had coffee and spent the day together. The rest is history, as they say. Too bad I can’t let him stay the night with me. I wake up screaming more times than I care to count. Especially as of late.

  He opens the car door for me and I nestle in. Max settles in the back seat and we take off for the beach.

  “So, tell me more about the Parker Street house,” I say.

  He works for a small realty company on the south side of town where all the big houses are. The people in my neighborhood call that side of town “old money.” I guess it kind of fits. All of the original owners were dying off with age and Coby came in to update the houses and then sell them.

  He sticks his tongue out at me before replying. “The updates and renovations finished two weeks ago and I listed it last week. The house was impeccable. It practically sold itself.” He blows on his nails and rubs them on his shirt.

  I roll my eyes and laugh at my silly boyfriend. He takes my hand in his and brings it up to his lips. My smile almost splits my face in half. Sometimes I still wonder at how I bagged such a sweet, gentle, fun, loving man. I lean my head on his shoulder and sigh contentedly.

  “I love you, Janet,” he whispers.

  “I love you, too, Coby,” I reply.

  “Have you talked to your mom recently? I know her birthday is next month. Do you have any plans to do anything with her and your dad?” he asks.

  His question catches me off-guard so it takes me a moment to reply. “Um… No. Last I heard from them was two months ago and they were getting ready to visit Ireland. I don’t know when they were leaving or coming back. Maybe they moved there,” I mutter, hopefully.

  He chuckles at the last remark. Before we started dating, I hadn’t talked to my mother in over a year. Our relationship had become so strained that we barely kept in touch. There wasn’t much we could say to each other that wouldn’t end up in an argument.

  My mind wanders through time and lands on my little pre-teen form. I am packing my suitcase for another camp my mom signed me up for. She keeps telling me the reason I have no friends is because of the stories I make up. I can still see her grab my nightlight from my pile of clothes and throw it in frustration.

  “You’re too old for this. Why do you still need it? The nightmares aren’t real, Janet. They’re just bad dreams. This is why no one wants to stay the night with you. What did I do wrong to make you this way?”

  My dad is standing in the hallway behind her. He hangs his head and walks away.

  I shake out of my thoughts as Coby asks about my night. I fib, telling him it was fine. I don’t want him to worry about me and I definitely don’t want him to think I’m crazy. Our small talk lasts until we pull up to the parking area by the beach.

  We haul the umbrella and beach chairs onto the sand. Once everything is placed, Max and Coby take off with a Frisbee and run the shoreline. I put my clothes under my chair and lay back in the sun. My thoughts travel to Emily again. How can I get her to open up to me? I can’t give her tools if I don’t know what we’re trying to fix.

  Once I got out of high school, I knew I had to dedicate my life to helping kids with similar problems as what I experienced growing up. It was hard being terrified every night and having no one to talk to about it. No matter how many people I told about my terrors, no one would believe me. Now I can be the person they talk to, that someone who understands them. I could give them what I never had: sympathy and understanding.

  I didn’t have many friends growing up, and even fewer once I was in college. My studies kept me busy and focused on other things besides the nightmares of my childhood. I became a child psychologist specializing in nyctophobia, the fear of dark. So many parents have come to me at their wits’ end with their children’s sleep or darkness problems, and my personal goal is to help as many of those children as I can.

  Emily is a seven, almost eight, year old girl that has been coming to sessions with me for six months now. She has yet to tell me what it is that scares her at night. I feel close to her in so many ways because she reminds me of myself at that age. Her parents often ask if I have been successful in getting her to speak about her terrors. As their faces fall when I tell them she hasn’t, so does my heart. She’s a lucky girl to have parents that recognize her fears and are willing to help her overcome them. Unlike my parents who were always in denial.

  Most of the children that visit me just need someone to talk to about their nightmares. Once we shed some light on the monsters, they lose their power and begin to fade with time. Or at least some of them do.

  “Earth to Janet. Come in, Janet.”

  I laugh as the Frisbee lands beside my chair. “I’m coming!”

  We race across the shifting ground, laughing and playing in the sand until sweat drips down my back. My feet move us towards the water and we walk into it together. Max bounds around and bites at the waves coming in. Coby races ahead of me and dives beneath the froth on the surface. My eyes close as my hands brus
h over the top of the ocean waves passing by me. Serenity.

  “I love the smell of the ocean and the way you look above the water,” Coby whispers as he catches me up in his arms. I waste no time kissing him as my heart does a little flip in my chest. I love this man.

  I cling to his body and try not to swallow water as a large wave crests over us. We come up laughing and splashing each other, enjoying ourselves. I give chase, playing around in the shallow water as we move back toward the beach and Max. I thank my mom for blessing me with long legs and hop with ease as we race to the beach.

  He catches me and throws me into the water behind him. I come up sputtering and push my hair back. Cheater! He runs backwards, taunting me until we are in shallow enough water to actually run.

  As he turns his back to get away from me, I tackle him into the wet sand. We roll around, getting sand in every crevice. I’ll regret this later.

  “Well, I love the way you look covered in sand trapped underneath me,” I whisper against his lips.

  A young boy walking by whistles at us and makes me blush. I climb off Coby and we stand. Max stares at me and I know exactly what he wants.

  “Do you want to look for sand dollars and shells?” I ask Max.

  “I thought you’d never ask.” Coby grins and snatches his shirt to use as a carrier for our treasures.

  We walk side by side in the sand, letting the sun and wind dry our bodies. I find a few shells and Coby finds a sand dollar, the lucky man. Max digs holes every time we stop but only comes back with his nemesis, hermit crabs.

  “I’ve never been able to find one of those! I think they’re good luck,” I say as I push him softly.

  “You must by my lucky charm,” he replies with a wink.

  “You’re so cheesy.” I laugh as he bats his lashes. He is utterly adorable when he's in a playful mood.

  We walk back to our umbrella and pack everything back into the car. After everything is stuffed in the back, we walk to the seawall and pick our lunch destination. The restaurant we choose is a little red shack with a white patio cover. The smell of shrimp and crab wafts out to meet us, and both of our stomachs growl.

 

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