Trinity of Darkness: The Darkness Unbound Collection

by Glenn Porzig

  "I started to think maybe there was an intruder, then I heard something coming from the cellar…"

  "What was it?" Brandy was dying from anticipation.

  "I heard what sounded like a growl… I thought it might have been an animal, but then I saw something move…"

  "Ew, I got goose bumps! What was it? What did you see?"

  "It was all black, like—like a shadow, but it moved like it was alive. It was shaped like a man—but it moved past me and I could see through it—then it just vanished into the wall."

  "A shadow man! You saw a shadow man! You are so lucky!"

  "Lucky? I don't feel lucky."

  "So what happened next?"

  "I don't know… I remember screaming and the next thing I saw was Chris bent over me, waking me up."

  "Wow. That is some story. You have a haunting my dear. An honest to goodness haunting."

  "Well, what do I do about it?"

  "You don't ignore it, that's for sure. If you're seeing a full on shadow person then you need to take action. You need professional help. Because if you don't nip this in the bud, it's only going to get worse as the shadow man grows stronger!"

  "Sounds scary."

  "Don't you worry, I know just the people to help. There's a group in town, they call themselves ESP. They're a bunch of Ghost Buster types that have a podcast show where they check out local hauntings. I bet they'd help you out!"

  "You really think they can help me? You think they would?"

  "For a chance to document a real shadow man on video? I can guarantee it!" Brandy smiled, extremely satisfied with herself.

  ***

  Detective Drake had dropped his car off to get the windows replaced and was walking downtown. He didn't often have the time, or the desire, to do so. But he wasn't due to return to duty until he'd been cleared for his psyche evaluation… and he was in no hurry to put himself through that. So, he was enjoying the crisp autumn air, getting a little exercise, and feeling good about being out of the office on paid leave.

  Things had changed a lot along this street since his youth. There were still lots of little shops, but they were trendy things now, places like the small town hardware stores had been swallowed up by the big box retailers. Up on the corner a nice old building looked like it was being redecorated for yet another new shop to move in. They never seemed to last long, but people kept trying. It was the American dream to be a small business owner, and people weren't ready to give up on it just yet.

  A delivery truck pulled up to the corner and the door to the shop opened, out stepped a raven-haired beauty. She had pale skin and a slender but curvy figure that looked good even in the work clothes she was wearing. Drake recognized her instantly. She was the mystery woman from the estate auction months ago. The one who bought the rare book collection he'd hoped to win.

  He watched her as she signed for a large flat box and the deliveryman drove off. She looked up and saw him watching her. It was definitely her, he couldn't mistake her piercing blue eyes. She smiled at him and he took the opportunity to approach her.

  "You're my competition from the auction, right?" she asked.

  "I'm the one who lost to you, if that's what you mean." He smiled politely.

  "Well, you're just in time."

  "In time for?"

  "Just in time for this," she indicated the large box. "Care to give me a hand getting it into the shop?"

  "No problem. Always glad to lend a hand to a damsel in distress."

  "Ah, my white knight…" she quipped.

  The shop was old, but not in too bad shape, she'd obviously been cleaning it up for some time. The walls were lined with wooden shelves. The place was a time capsule to back when they built things with some flair. It had charm, and personality, instead of the cold utilitarian precision of modern architecture. There was plenty of fancy trim work, a large custom crafted counter, and wooden floors. Big display windows streamed light into the musty old shop.

  They dragged the package inside and she grabbed a box cutter off the front counter. She ceremoniously cut the packing tape and made a big production of folding back the heavy cardboard and packing materials to reveal a custom carved sign, designed to look like the old English hanging placards you would see outside of pubs. Elegantly carved into it was the name of the shop. Belle's Books and Candles.

  "A book store? That explains it!" Drake cried out before he could stop himself.

  "What, you didn't think I was going to read all those musty old books myself, did you?" They both laughed.

  "I suppose I have the pleasure of speaking with Belle?"

  "I'm sorry, how rude of me. Yes, I'm Belle Ashworth, and you are?"

  "Alexander Drake, but call me Alex."

  Drake was nervous like a school boy. Days ago he had calmly been involved in a life threatening shootout and not even flinched, but this woman made him nervous. There was something about her that was strangely familiar, but he couldn't put his finger on it. He wasn't looking for a companion, not after things had gone so bad with Angela. He hadn't even considered another relationship… and here he was flirting with a girl who was probably a decade his junior.

  "I hate to be blunt… but a bookstore? Book stores are closing all over the country."

  "True, but I knew I'd have at least one avid customer… the man who wanted to buy all of the rare books from the Nichols estate…"

  "Touché."

  She was right. Drake had been sorely disappointed to lose out to her at the auction. Now he'd have the opportunity to read at least some of the collection. And he had a legitimate excuse to return here and get to know her a little better.

  "I notice a hint of a British accent, are you from around here?"

  "I just recently returned to the states. I studied abroad… my mother and I moved around a lot when I was young, mainly across Europe."

  "But you're living here now?"

  "If you'd stayed at the auction longer then you'd have known that I also purchased the Nichols mansion."

  "Ah, so it seems you'll be around for a while. That's good to know."

  "Is it?" she smiled.

  "Well… it was a pleasure to meet you Lady Ashworth. May our paths cross again soon." Drake bowed, mimicking a proper English gentleman.

  ***

  "I'm Brad…"

  "I'm Christina…"

  "I'm Adam…"

  "And I'm Amy."

  "That's right, joining us again for this very special episode is psychic medium Amelia Vigil. Thanks for coming out here with us, Amy."

  "It's my pleasure. I hope I can be helpful on tonight's investigation."

  "Together we are the ESP crew. Don't forget to subscribe to our channel, and if you enjoy this episode, be sure to tell a friend! And why don't you share with our viewers what is so special about tonight's investigation, Christina?" Brad asked.

  "Tonight the homeowners have been gracious enough to invite us in to investigate, what my research has revealed to be, the family home of occult serial killer Lee Miller!"

  "That's right. This is the very house that Lee Miller grew up in. As you may recall, after his death, investigators found the mummified remains of his mother here," Brad said.

  "No surprise that this place is haunted!" Interjected Adam from off camera.

  "We've spoken with the new homeowners who wish to remain anonymous, they moved here from out of town and were unaware of the home's sordid history," Brad added.

  "Lee Miller did not die on the premises, but there has been a lot of activity witnessed here since the new residents moved in a few weeks back," said Christina.

  There is a laundry list of the usual signs of a haunting according to our interview with the wife of the family. She says it all started with her husband finding things like his tools being moved and misplaced as he worked to renovate the house."

  "As some of our viewers may know, it seems like ghosts don't like change and renovations often stir up otherwise quiet spirits," said Brad.

&
nbsp; "As usual, the signs of the haunting escalated, including strange unexplained noises like knocks and even whispers that the wife said sounded like it could have been some sort of chanting!"

  But that's not all. In the cellar she actually had a close encounter with a shadow in the shape of a man. We all know that shadow people are no laughing matter. That encounter ended up with her passed out on the floor!" said Christina.

  "With such powerful occurrences witnessed, you can see why we asked our resident psychic to join us here tonight."

  The homeowners have entrusted us with the house for the evening, they have stepped out so we don't have to worry about any extraneous sounds as we conduct our investigation."

  Amy, have you had any feelings or experiences since arriving on the property?" asked Brad.

  "Well, I do know I've got a bad vibe. Maybe it's just the history of the place influencing me, but I just don't feel comfortable here. I'll be sure to speak up if I sense anything specific during the course of the investigation." Amy gave a nervous smile at the camera.

  "As usual, Adam has placed cameras everywhere that activity has been witnessed in an attempt to capture it for you the viewers." Brad stated. "Let's get started, shall we?"

  As a refresher, nearly a year ago, Lee Miller killed an innocent family. But his misdeeds didn't end there. He was also responsible for the deaths of multiple young women here in Pennsylvania, all believed to have been sacrificed to the dark entities that he worshiped! The police also linked him to the murder of another family, going on fourteen years ago, back when he was only a teenager."

  "That guy was one sick puppy," Adam said.

  "Okay, guys and gals, I'd like to start in the cellar where the real action happened!" Brad said.

  The crew carefully moved their gear toward the steps in preparation of descending down into the dark cellar.

  "How about we have Amelia go down first, and I can stand at the top of the stairs and shoot her reaction?" Asked Adam.

  "Sounds like a plan," replied Brad.

  Adam pulled out a small digital recorder from a pouch on his vest. He switched it on and handed it to Amelia. "Here Amy, take this in case we get any EVPs."

  "Thanks, Adam." She looked down the dark stairway into the cellar. "I'm not too thrilled about this…"

  "It's okay, we're right here behind you," said Brad.

  Amelia took a deep breath and began down the stairs, careful to hold on to the rail with one hand, the recorder in the other. "We are entering the cellar now of the home of infamous serial killer Lee Miller. This is where the current home owners claim to have recently had an encounter with a shadow man." She exhaled and continued. "It's getting noticeably colder as I continue down. The air seems somehow heavier down here. I can feel something affecting my mood… I sense anger, frustration… there is definitely something down here with us."

  She stopped at the bottom of the stairs and Adam came down with his video camera, he circled around in front of her and framed a shot looking up at her with the stairway behind her. "Okay, I'm in position. Reach up and turn on the light."

  Amelia tugged on the chain and the room lit up. She froze.

  "Go ahead," Brad prompted.

  "We can do it again, if you weren't ready, Amy." Adam offered. Then he saw the look on her face. The hairs on his arms stood on end as he slowly turned around. Behind him was a dark shape, but it wasn't a shadow of anything in the room.

  "Tell me you see him too…" Amy murmured.

  "I see a shadow," said Brad. "What do you see?"

  "You don't see him? You don't see Lee Miller?" Amelia was pale and terrified beyond words. To her it wasn't just a dark shape in roughly humanoid form like the others saw. She was blessed with special sight. She saw the evil that was Lee Miller. She was face to face with the spirit of a serial killer—and he didn't look happy.

  Just then the shadow started creeping towards them. Amy turned to leave and felt a cold chill go through her as the ghastly figure reached out and grasped her shoulder. She shuddered and pulled away.

  They had all turned now and scrambled to make it back up the the narrow staircase. Adam stumbled and dropped some equipment as they struggled to get away. They didn't stop when they reached the top, instead they made a mad dash out the main door to the relative safety of the front lawn.

  Brad was winded, but between gulps of air he managed to ask the question that was on everyone's mind. "Adam, did you get it? Did you get it on tape?"

  "I can't be sure—I know I got something…"

  "Well, I know one thing… I'm not going back in there," Amy said, her face still pale from the supernatural encounter.

  ***

  Christopher Clarke entered the so-called Gentleman's Club. The pounding bass rattled his teeth. The strobing lights flashed in his eyes. The smoke from fog machines formed a haze that settled over the dark room and made it hard to breathe. It felt good to be alive.

  He had spent plenty of time in places like this in his youth. It had been far too long since he had taken in the pleasures that such a place had to offer. He looked down at the wedding ring on his hand. He considered removing it, but decided that the women here weren't looking for relationships. Keeping the ring on may actually make him more attractive to someone looking to hook up with no strings attached.

  Christopher pushed past the bouncers. They weren't there to keep him out. They were there to keep out the riffraff, the young punks with no money. The troublemakers that came there to get drunk, and that invariably thought that buying one of the dancers a drink meant they were taking them home.

  He was dressed impeccably. He exuded wealth. Confident men with money, that's what attracted these girls. He was a shark and they were helpless before him. He straightened his shoulders and a self-satisfied smile stretched across his face. He casually walked up to the bar and ordered an Amaretto Sour.

  He tossed a twenty on the counter and took his drink with him. There were three small stages and a main stage. His gaze slowly shifted from one stage to the next, evaluating the girls in various degrees of undress that writhed on them. It was hard to choose just one. Too bad the music sucked. It would have been more enjoyable if he could stand what passed for music these days. He locked eyes with one of the dancers. She seemed to appreciate him looking at her. He casually walked over and pulled up a chair at her stage.

  The girl was young, younger than most of the other dancers, but he could see from the look in her eyes that she'd had a hard life. Probably drugs. These girls made so much money every night, but they never had anything to show for it. She was just like the others, no plans for a future, just a short life of hard partying.

  He calmly watched her as she spun her lithe body around the pole. She at least took some pride in her craft. Her blond hair whipped the air as she flipped upside down and slid down the metallic shaft suspended by only her legs. The dancer dismounted and crawled across the stage towards him on her knees. Her hands reached up between her breasts and unclasped her bra. The bra dropped to the stage, but her hands cupped her ample breasts—keeping the anticipation building. She rolled across the stage and turned her back to him as she stood. The dancer's arms went up over her head, flashing the patrons on the other side of the stage, but keeping him waiting. Wanting more.

  He did want more. His anticipation was building to a fever pitch. She would be the one. He would have her tonight. The song ended and so did her time on stage. She bent over showing him her firm backside as she reached down to retrieve her bra. Wadded up bills were littered around her high heels. She gathered up the tips and then blew him a kiss as she walked off stage.

  Another girl took the stage after her. She was well built, but her eyes lacked the spark of life the blond had. This new dancer had been at it too long, she had long since lost any hope of a better future.

  It was was only a few minutes before the blond dancer slinked up beside him. She placed her hand on his shoulder, the light touch of her fingers was electric in his height
ened state.

  "Buy a girl a drink?" she asked. He nodded in agreement. Encouraged by his willingness to part with his money she pushed a little further. "Make it a bottle of champagne and we can sit and get to know each other." She smiled sweetly trying to make the worn out sales pitch seem like an invitation that was exclusively for him. He nodded again and then stood up to follow her to a private booth in the back of the club.

  They sat down in the dark booth together. She edged up to him, her shoulder brushing up against his playfully. Within moments a waitress in a French maid outfit was at their table. She was older, but extremely well endowed and still in good shape for her age. She had most likely been a dancer in her youth as well, and returned to the club when she failed to find work in the real world. "Would you like to buy the lady a drink? A mixed drink will only get you one song, but if you'd like to buy her a bottle you'll have plenty of private time with her. I'd recommend a bottle, Destiny is popular around here."

  "He's buying a bottle, Dee Dee." The dancer ran her hand down Christopher's leg and gave him a gentle squeeze right above his knee.

  "Wise move. Would you like me to open a line of credit for you at the bar? I'll just need your credit card," the waitress said.

  Christopher slid out his wallet. "I'll be paying cash," he said as he indicated his wedding ring. He pulled a wad of twenties out and counted them as he placed the cash in the waitress' hand, she indicated when he'd handed her enough. "… and one for you." He smiled as he doled out another crisp new twenty dollar bill.

  "I'll be right back with your bottle, sir."

  The dancer snuggled up to Christopher. "I don't think I've seen you in here before, sugar."

  "I'm new in town. Did she say your name was Destiny?"

  "That's right, and what do I call you?"

  "Destiny. I like it. You can call me… Lee."

  ***

  Drake's El Camino pulled up to the alley. The windows had been replaced but the bullet holes in the door still remained, a grim reminder of the shootout days before. Police had the area cordoned off with crime scene tape and cruisers were parked at both ends. Officers stood around drinking coffee and talking.