Bloodborne Awakened (Borne of Blood Book 1)

by Tracey Laviolette

  BLOOBORNE

  AWAKENED

  T R A C E Y L A V I O L E T T E

  MENTHA PRESS LLC

  Oconto, Wisconsin, USA

  www.traceylaviolette.com/mentha-press

  Library of Congress Control Number: 2019908930

  ISBN 13: 978-1937629595

  Copyright©2019 Tracey Laviolette

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, except for brief quotes used in reviews. Requests maybe submitted at the website www.traceylaviolette.com.

  The characters or events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead are strictly coincidental and not intended of the author.

  Editor: Swati Hegde

  Thank You

  To all the readers who purchased my books, and took the journey with my crazy cast of characters.

  PRAISE FOR BLOODBORNE AWAKENED

  “Young adult fantasy readers will welcome Bloodborne Awakened’s unique combination of coming-of-age and quest story. Its wound into engrossing descriptions and atmospheric settings designed to keep readers thoroughly engrossed to the satisfying end, which sets the stage for another story without the frustration of the usual cliff hanger approach to series titles. More, please!” D. Donovan, Senior Reviewer, MIDWEST BOOK REVIEW

  ∆

  “But ‘tis strange; And oftentimes to win us to our harm. The instruments of darkness tell us truths, Win us with honest trifles, to betray us In deepest consequence.”

  __from Shakespeare’s Macbeth

  CHAPTER ONE

  ∆

  Tick—tock. Tick—tock.

  The clock’s pendulum created such a soothing, yet so eloquently familiar sound— a reminder that time moved on in a eurythmic direction. Just as the gears of the clock continued ticking in constant motion, so did the days of our lives—at least until the end came. The sound was almost poetic—yet, ironically, did life continued after death? Newton’s second law, which described the changes that a force can produce on a body in motion, stated that the time rate of change of the momentum of a body is equal in both magnitude and direction to the force imposed on it. The energy of a body is like the product’s mass and velocity, and the force applied to a body can change the magnitude of the momentum, or its direction, or both. If this applied to my life, then a force would have to be strong enough to change the momentum and direction of my life. At that moment, my thoughts rambled on to what type of power would change my life’s path.

  I stared at the clock for a long moment, absorbed by the hypnotic sound, as each of my main muscle groups loosened their tense embrace. Perhaps the idea of me meeting a person or force that was my equal to change my life was a bit whack. I felt too comfortable, which made me nervous that I might say too much. No matter what happened in this room, I promised I would keep my secrets safe. I shifted my weight in the chair where I sat as my mind drifted back to that moment, the one I didn’t want to remember—the one where time had stood still.

  “Jessie? Do you want to talk about what happened?” I heard her voice again, very soft and encouraging.

  No, I didn’t want to tell her what happened. The good doctor would only believe I was mental, and that was the last thing I needed in my precarious life. I had my own demons to fight and didn’t need the added stress from anyone else trying to ‘help’ me. It wasn’t my choice to be here—to talk about my problems with a therapist. Mrs. Langston, the children's welfare worker, wanted me here to resolve her doubts and speculations. That woman’s job must have been part of the FBI or CIA back in her younger years, because she just wouldn’t let me go with a warning. My grandmother thought it would be a good idea that I stay with her over the summer. Personally, I thought it was my Grams’ way of rescuing me from myself. It didn’t help that Mrs. Langston genuinely believed I intentionally beat a student half to death. Her delusions had been based upon the fact that I had no memory of the incident—aka, I was hiding something. Yeah, okay, there were no witnesses except the student, and she told them I didn’t harm her. But no—that wasn’t good enough. It was like they had to put the blame on someone—and that someone just had to be me.

  My gaze drifted around the large office, taking note of the modern furniture, elaborate wall hangings, and not missing the office desk before me—all of it looked extremely expensive and reflected social status ideals. I even took note of the very finely-made office suit the therapist wore—how funny it was that I had seen that same outfit in one of the Vogue Magazines in her waiting room.

  Dr. Emily White said the brass-plated wooden name plaque sitting neatly at the end of her desk. I looked forward at the well-dressed, middle-aged woman who sat before me. Behind her, certificates of diplomas painted the wall of her success. Could she really help someone like me? I crossed one ankle over the other, pressed my back firmly against the chair, then lazily lifted my gaze to hers.

  “I don’t remember much, other than the fact that I walked into the girls’ bathroom and saw the girl lying on the floor in a pool of blood. I blacked out after that.”

  There was no reason to lie—well, partly, as I didn’t mention the entire story. The good doctor didn’t need to know everything. How could I tell her that time slowed down when I walked into that bathroom, and I had seen a girl being thrown against the bathroom wall by some invisible force? Right after that—I blacked out. When I came to my senses, the girl was lying on the floor, crying in a pool of blood. The horror in her eyes was a picture I’d ever forget. Her fixated eyes indicated that she had seen something so horrifying it could only have come from the pits of hell. Maybe she had seen a ghost. Maybe she could have seen a demon, I honestly didn’t know. Unfortunately, in this world, demons only existed in fairytales and horror stories. The world we lived in didn’t believe in the existence of demons.

  Dr. White released a hesitant sigh and firmly pressed her lips together. “I see you aren’t ready to talk about what happened. It’s our first visit, Jessie, and I understand this may be difficult for you to discuss.”

  “There’s not much I can tell you, doctor. Blackouts—ya know?”

  She gave me, at least, what she apparently thought was a confirming smile. After all, this was our first session, and I had agreed to ten sessions so that the state’s child welfare lady would be satisfied.

  “Jessie,” her voice softened, “I’m trying to help you, but you need to trust me. The doctors at the emergency room where you went say that you were in shock when you arrived. It seems although you were covered in blood, there was no evidence of any physical injury. The other girl, however, has what appeared to be,” she paused and picked up what looked like a police report of the school incident, “deep penetrating claw-like marks on her body.” Her gaze snapped up to mine from the folder, and then slowly, she pulled off her reading glasses. “It’s apparent that something happened to that girl.”

  “I told you the truth. I don’t remember anything.” I sucked in a deep breath and snapped my attention away from her for a short moment. I dared not lose control of my emotions. I released a long sigh and then looked her straight in the eyes. “Do I look like I have claws, doctor?” I held both hands up for her to see the barely-there fingernails that I had kept trimmed short because they broke too often.

  She scribbled on her notepad and then drew her attention back to me. “Okay, Jessie. I believe that something happened, and you did suffer a syncope. However, It is uncommon for persons around your age to experience blackouts. I must say, I want to know what caused this occurrence.”

  I blinked, then glared at he
r for a long, irritated moment. I wanted to know what happened as well, more so what it was that attacked that girl. “Thank you—I guess?”

  She nodded. “Let’s try again next week. I would like for you to keep a diary each day. Just write down your thoughts, dreams, or perhaps your daily routines. This may help reveal an underlying cause. You, Jessie, are my concern.”

  I nodded, then gave her a half-smile as I stood to my feet. To leave her office felt nice—it felt like I had been here an hour too long. I made it toward the door, and as my fingers gripped the handle, I felt the urge to tell her I wouldn’t be back, and this was just a waste of both our times. It would be so much easier that way. Instead, I opened the door and walked through.

  “See you next month, Doc,” I called out and paused for her response.

  “Oh, yes. Your grandmother is taking you camping this month. Well, I do hope you have a good time, and I’ll see you when you get back.”

  “Thank you,” I replied, then closed the door behind me.

  Once in the waiting room, I glanced around and noticed one person left. I guessed that, according to the time, it was the doctor’s last appointment. The guy was about my soon-to-be age, seventeen, and wore his blonde hair in a short on the sides and kind of spikey on the top. When he looked up from his phone, his hazel eyes met mine. I had never met anyone with eyes of that color. Even though he looked cute, every cell in my body sent me warning signals not to be around him. The chills that sprinkled up my spine, I guess you could say they were like my sixth sense warning me that there was something different about this guy. I shifted my gaze and moved quickly to the front door, opened it, then rushed outside to my grandmother’s car. From there, it was a straight shot to the coffee shop down the street for a cup of my favorite tea, and free internet. Honestly, it was just more to be around the buzz of people, instead of sitting in a quiet home all alone until my grandmother got home.

  Seventy-three-year-old Evelyn Connelly—my Grams, a great woman to be around, at least in my opinion. She was funny, easy to talk too, and had excellent fashion sense. She had always been my favorite grandmother, despite how strict she could be on her family at times. I found it very funny to see her give my dad a hard time, even though he always hated it when I told him to stop giving me a hard time. I was happy to stay with Grams over the summer, because she was a lot of fun. I loved my parents, but sometimes it just took an outside view to help understand them and life in general. Grams was like that—she always understood and listened to anything, crazy or not. It was like she just got me. She had also believed me when I said I didn’t harm that girl.

  I pulled up to the coffee shop, angled the car in the appropriate parking spot, and opened the door. As I stepped out of the car, I noticed the influx of cars on the road. The five o’clock rush hour had taken off with people who struggled to make their way home from work.

  The little coffee shop was always inviting, with the fragrant coffee beans and aroma of freshly brewed coffee. I half-closed my eyes as I inhaled, distinguishing the deep rich notes of the dark blend and the hint of caramel that filled the air. Today, I was here for the shop's iced herbal tea special. It was a unique blend that they made with green tea and other light herbs with a hint of orange zest. My newfound delight was a much-needed a treat, especially after a visit to the therapist.

  With my iced herbal tea in hand, I found a perfect table to myself near the front where I could look out the window from time to time. I enjoyed the picturesque view of the storefronts. The weather was a pleasant eighty degrees with a cooling breeze off the water nearby. I knew I only had a month to settle in before starting as a senior at Cypress Bay Highschool here in Weston. Grams told the social worker it was a good school, and I’d like it there. It would be a change, but at this point, anything that could be a distraction from my anxiety and constant thoughts would be welcome.

  I dived into my phone and pulled up this cute farm game to distract me for a few minutes until Grams got home. In one way, I just wanted to relax a bit before heading back. Just as I had got into the game, a chill sweep over my body, and I shivered. My Grams always said that was the feeling when a person or animal walked over your grave. I’m not sure if the sayings were true or not, but what could I say—it was my Gram’s southern verbiage. I froze for a moment, then turned my head slowly to the side when I heard soft footsteps approaching from behind me.

  “Um, I saw you earlier—at the doc’s office.” His lips parted in a cheesy smile as he motioned to the seat across from me.

  “Yeah, I believe so.” I nodded, giving him the okay to sit down. Perhaps my curiosity of this guy had gotten the best of me.

  The stranger set his drink down on the table, seated himself, then nervously wiped his mouth with his hand as he turned his head and looked out the window. There was a distinct difference I hadn’t notice before, but then again, I hadn’t lingered long enough in the waiting room to see much more than that he was attractive. The dude was dressed nicely in clean blue jeans and a white undershirt, topped off with an unbuttoned blue striped short-sleeve shirt which showed off his nicely muscled arms. The notable difference was a small red dragon tattoo on the side of his neck, just below his ear. I’d never really paid much attention to people and tattoos, but his tattoo just seemed like it was different, maybe the color of the ink was too red—I didn’t know.

  The difference wasn’t my imagination. I felt a prickly sensation on my arms and glanced down to find that every hair stood on its end. It was as though someone took a balloon and rubbed it over both my arms and held it over me as torture. The sensation felt a bit creepy. I quickly brushed down my arms before he had the chance to notice my seemingly irrational behavior.

  “So—this seems like a nice place to hang out.” He turned his attention back to me.

  I bit my bottom lip and nodded. “It’s pretty nice. I like it.”

  “My name is Kyle, by the way. I just moved here, so I don’t know anyone. I was hoping to meet someone who could show me around.”

  “My name is Jessie. I just moved here as well, so I don’t think I could help you with that.” I didn’t want to be rude, but under the circumstances, I wanted to leave, and now. I felt weird, sort of nauseated and dizzy. It was the same feeling I had when I walked into the girls’ bathroom that day.

  His eyebrows lifted. “I guess we’ll just find out together, huh?”

  “Not today—I really need to get home.” I stood up quickly and grabbed my phone. “But it was nice meeting you.” No sense in being impolite, so I gave him a quick smile. It took every ounce of my strength to push my feet forward as fast as I could toward the front door. It felt as if gravity fought against every step, making my escape harder than necessary. I didn’t know what happened, and I didn’t want to know. All I wanted to do was to run away—far away.

  “Wait!” Kyle called out behind me as I got halfway to the car. I stopped, spun around, and almost fell just to see what he wanted.

  “You forgot this.” He held out his hand for me to see a black corded necklace with a silver-looking thing hanging at the end of it.

  “It’s not mine,” I replied softly, and turned to take those last few steps to the car.

  “Yes, it is—”

  I stopped and did a half-turn to see he hadn’t moved. “I don’t own anything like that.”

  Kyle crossed the distance between us in just a couple steps, then reached out and took my hand in his. He placed the necklace in my palm and then stepped back. “Now it’s yours. Keep it safe.” Then he took a couple steps back from me.

  My gaze drifted from Kyle to my hand, which I slowly opened. Among the black rope hung a silver dragon charm. Although it was small, it had claws for hands and wings. Its opened mouth looked as though fire would explode from it at any given moment. In place of an eye, it had a tiny red glossy gem.

  “It’s stunning, but—” When I looked up, Kyle had left—just gone. Frantically, I scanned the area, but it was as though he had disa
ppeared right into thin air. His unbelievable disappearing act left me slightly annoyed—people didn’t just go without at least saying goodbye. His manners were no less than rude, according to my southern traditions. More importantly, I didn’t have time for the creep factor moment, so I shoved the necklace in my pocket and decided I would deal with it later.

  It didn’t take long to get home, only ten minutes or so with evening traffic. When I pulled into the driveway, it looked as though Grams had just made it back and was unloading groceries. I carefully parked the car into the garage by Pop’s antique Mustang, then stepped out, making sure I didn’t scratch either car with the door.

  “Let me help you.” I slipped between the cars to the backend where Grams already had two bags in each hand.

  “Why, thank you, dear. I may have picked up more than what we’ll need, but I didn’t know what you like to eat.” Her brown eyes twinkled as she whisked around two large reusable grocery totes, one in each hand, holding them out for me.

  “I’m not picky, Grams. I’m sure whatever you bought will be just fine.” I gave her a reassuring smile as I followed her into the kitchen.

  “Myrtle and Bernice are coming over for Bible study tonight, around seven. Why don’t you join us?” Grams pulled out the items one by one and set them on the island countertop. I, of course, spied the bag of apples and grabbed one out of the clear plastic bag.

  “Uhm, I’ll pass this time.” Fuji apple, my favorite—they didn’t have them back home in any of the local grocery stores where I lived.

  “How did your appointment go with Dr. White?” Grams turned around and tried to grab the apple from me before I bit into it. I quickly pulled back and bit into the apple, then gave her a smile.