The Cornelius Saga Series (All 15 Books): The Ultimate Adventure-packed Supernatural Thriller Collection

by Tanya R. Taylor

  They’d arrived fifteen minutes past seven and already, many of Mira’s schoolmates and their dates were there. As they strolled through, amidst hugs and compliments from almost every angle, Mira proudly introduced her husband of a little more than one month.

  “You look absolutely gorgeous, Mira!” Monique Constantakis exclaimed. “And your makeup is perfect! Who did you hire to do it?”

  “I have Rosie to thank,” Mira replied.

  “Your daughter? Oh, wow. She’s really talented!”

  “Thank you. You look stunning yourself.”

  “These old things?” She grinned, lightly straightening the sides of her gown.

  “You remember Bobby?” Mira asked.

  Monique smiled at him. “Of course, I do! The heartthrob that only had eyes for you since we were teenagers!”

  Bobby blushed. “Nice to see you again,” he said.

  “Likewise,” she replied, pleasantly.

  Monique was dressed in a fitted light yellow sequin gown that fell loosely at the ankles, and wore matching open-toed high-heeled shoes. Her wavy auburn hair streaked with gold stopped at her shoulders.

  “Did you come alone?” Mira asked Monique.

  “Yep. It’s just me tonight—and I really don’t mind at all,” she quickly replied.

  “If we’d known beforehand, I could’ve set you up with a date. That is, if you don’t have a boyfriend,” Bobby said.

  “I don’t do the boyfriend thing,” Monique answered. “Had enough of men to last me a lifetime, especially after that last jerk I was married to.”

  “O-kay.” Bobby replied, awkwardly.

  Mira always thought Monique was a lovely girl and wondered why she hadn’t much luck in the romantic arena. She squeezed Bobby’s hand.

  “Monique, please excuse my wonderful, ever so helpful husband here for being a bit too intrusive. Your love life is your own business.”

  Tending to agree, Bobby glanced her way.

  “Oh! He wasn’t being intrusive at all,” Monique rebutted. “I will definitely keep Bobby in mind if ever I decide to start dating again. Sounds like you might have a good selection for me, huh?” She nudged him.

  “I might.” He grinned.

  As the event got underway, Bobby, Mira and Monique, along with some other attendees took their seats at one of the large, exquisitely decorated tables. From afar off, Mira noticed Sally-Jo’s former friends—Randa Maynard, Abigail Shofer and Christie Hopkins at another table.

  Thaddeus Fellings was the MC; he always did have the loudest mouth in school and was the biggest self-proclaimed clown of their graduating class. He started off with a few jokes; some rather embarrassing to those he’d selected as scapegoats; to others—not so much. Mira was giggling like a teenager again and seeing most of her former schoolmates ushered back more pleasant memories of the time she’d shared with them in high school. Many were there that night that were not present at the meeting she’d attended weeks ago and she had a wonderful feeling about their reunion. Bobby found a few jokes rather original, and Monique had laughed herself to tears.

  Thaddeus had sat near Mira for most of the classes they’d attended together and he was a little more than a distraction from her studies, always finding something funny to whisper about the teacher. Mira cherished those days as many times Thaddeus had no idea his lifting her spirit was a temporary escape from the troubles of her home life. It was her parents’ relationship back then that had brought her much sadness to an otherwise, normal childhood. Having Wade as a brother also helped since leading her into mischief kept her days busy and somewhat colorful.

  Reminders of who got into trouble and for what added to the cheerful atmosphere inside the room. Thaddeus had a photographic memory—either that—or he had people in his ear feeding him lots of information before the event.

  “And Mira Cullen—remember how Joe Clondike used to follow her around like a puppy dog? He was pathetic, wasn’t he?” Thaddeus remarked, openly.

  “Oh—no offense to you, Joe!” He looked his way speedily. “Tell the madam next to you it’s all in the past. No need to go over to table nine and beat Mira up over an old crush.”

  Mira wasn’t shocked by Thaddeus’ comment—that was Thaddeus through and through. She could see Joe laughing and the rather stout lady next to him having a good chuckle as well.

  “No surprise to me,” Bobby whispered into Mira’s ear. “You had me like a li’l puppy dog too.”

  “Stop it!” She lovingly slapped his wrist.

  “Heard Mira Cullen became a doctor,” Thaddeus went on. “I’ll have you all know she can operate on me anytime!”

  Mira’s hands flew up to her mouth. That statement surprised her, particularly since Adeline, Thaddeus’ high school sweetheart and now wife was sitting a few tables away. She didn’t look so pleased either.

  “He’s a trip!” Mira exclaimed. “Looking to get himself in the doghouse tonight.”

  “Nah!” Monique softly chimed in. “Thaddeus has got Adeline wrapped around his li’l pinky. She wouldn’t go anywhere if he chased her. Money talks, you know? He inherited that multimillion-dollar business from his folks more than a decade ago, so Adeline there’s living large. As much as she likes money, she can catch Thaddeus on top of someone and she ain’t budging. Oh, no! She ain’t giving up that money for nothing and for no one.”

  Bobby laughed. “The mighty dollar, huh?”

  “You said it!” Monique quickly nodded.

  Mira only smiled and wondered what type of life that was. She couldn’t imagine being in such a position.

  As the night went on, they were served a delectable four course meal and then dozens of people converged on the floor for dancing. As Mira and Bobby got up to dance, Monique teamed up with Scott Mather who was also a loner that night. And he happened to be seated a few chairs away at the same table. Mira noticed how surprised Monique was when Scott came over and asked her for a dance. Even though the two hardly noticed each other in high school, Mira thought they would make a nice couple.

  Slow music oozed through the hidden speakers in the ballroom and Mira, held closely in Bobby’s arms, inhaled the powerful scent of his cologne. That moment reminded her of their first dance at their wedding reception. She’d held onto him so tightly, he wondered if everything was okay. Certainly, she couldn’t tell him that she wished she could hold onto him forever and never let him go. However, she was careful not to do the same thing as they danced that night. It was a beautiful occasion and she wanted it to remain that way—not to be dampened by depressing thoughts of impending death that was years into the future.

  The two danced to the melody of five songs before they took their seats at the table again and sipped champagne. Monique and Scott were still on the dance floor and they seemed to still have a bit of steam left in them.

  “Please excuse me,” Mira told Bobby. “Going to the restroom.”

  He gently squeezed her hand in acknowledgment.

  Mira excused her way through the crowd until she arrived at the narrow corridor which led to the restrooms. It was at the far left corner of the space from where Mira and Bobby had been seated. After entering the restroom which, from her view, appeared to be vacant at least where the washbasins were, she opted for the third cubicle on her right. While opening the cubicle, someone who’d apparently been sitting on a closed toilet, fell forward onto the floor. Startled, Mira quickly stepped back. Upon closer inspection, she realized it was Abigail Shofer, and from the deep gashes visible across her neck and chest, she could tell her condition was grave. Although unresponsive, Abigail’s eyes were wide open and they bore an expression of extreme shock, intermingled with severe pain. Mira had seen such a gaze countless times from deceased victims of heinous crimes. She knelt down and felt the woman’s neck for a pulse, but was unable to find one.

  Mira got up quickly, hurried out of the restroom and back over to the table with Bobby. By that time, Monique and Scott were there as well.

  �
�Abigail’s dead! I found her in the restroom!” she exclaimed. “Somebody killed her! We have to call the police.”

  “Are you serious?” Bobby asked, rising to his feet.

  “Say what?” Monique said in disbelief, standing up as well.

  “I don’t wanna create a panic just in case the killer is still in here with us. We have to get the police here right away,” Mira indicated.

  Without a word, Scott hurried off toward the restroom area and Monique trailed closely behind while Mira reached into her purse for her cell phone to call the police.

  9

  _________________

  Within seconds of Monique and Scott leaving the table, Mira heard multiple locks click simultaneously, then screams coming from the direction of the restrooms. She knew others had already found Abigail. However, she couldn’t comprehend the sound of clicking locks.

  “Abby’s dead!” the victim’s close friend Christie cried, who’d entered the restroom just moments after Mira had left. Randa Maynard ran to see what was going on.

  There was shuffling of feet toward the area as Bobby took Mira’s cell and spoke to the police.

  “They’re on their way,” he said, holding her closely. Bobby was in full protective mode. Whomever had killed Abigail Shofer was not going to be able to get within a foot of Mira without coming through him. He kissed her forehead as she stood there petrified by what she’d witnessed.

  The scene in the ballroom was now chaotic and screams and cries were heard throughout the crowd.

  “Call the cops!” Thaddeus shouted. “Whoever did this is gonna pay!” He was obviously angry and baffled at the same time. As people rushed back and forth to the restroom, Mira noticed that others had headed toward one of the exits and couldn’t seem to get out. Apparently, they’d tried the second one already.

  “What’s happening?” she said to Bobby.

  He followed her stare.

  “Looks like we’re locked in,” she revealed.

  “Why would anyone lock us in?”

  He immediately took her hand and they headed toward the exit where at least ten people stood.

  “What happened?” he questioned those who had gathered at the door.

  A man was pushing on the door with all his might—an event which proved utterly futile. Several others had tried as well, but to no avail. Releasing Mira’s hand for a moment, Bobby gave it a go. “It’s stuck!” he exclaimed.

  He took hold of Mira’s hand again and afterwards, persons assembled at the door started banging on it in hopes of attracting people on the outside.

  Thaddeus dashed to the podium and grabbed the microphone. “Folks, we have a situation here. One of us has been murdered. Abigail Shofer is the victim.” Cries of worry filled the room. “However, I want us all to try our best to settle down until the cops get here. They’re on their way. Please, please all those who are in the restroom, please come out and assemble here with the rest of us. We don’t want any tampering of evidence that may be in the vicinity of Abby’s body.”

  “He’s right!” someone cried.

  “I’ve been notified that all exits are locked,” Thaddeus continued. “Just please do your best to relax. Help is on the way.”

  Mira saw an hysterical Christie Hopkins and her friend Randa rejoin the crowd in the main area. Though clearly traumatized, Randa was trying to be the strong one and literally struggled to keep Christie from collapsing to the floor. Then suddenly, in dramatic fashion, Christie was snatched away from Randa’s grip by an invisible force and was swung into the air like a wave of dust on a windy day, hitting the eighteen-foot-tall ceiling with a bang, her body pasted onto the wood like glue. Someone released an ear-piercing scream, then another, and soon, it sounded like everyone was screaming.

  “What the…” Bobby stood in utter amazement.

  Knowing that they were dealing with a supernatural intelligence, instantly, the thought crossed Mira’s mind that bitter Donna Jacobs was responsible for creating the nightmare they’d all found themselves in. She hadn’t forgotten the words spoken into her ear that day as Donna stared her down from a distance. She looked around the room, expecting to spot her amidst the crowd and she even broke away from Bobby to find her.

  “Mira!” he called, behind her.

  He followed her closely, refusing to let her out of his sight.

  “Show yourself, dammit!” Mira muttered as her eyes darted wildly across the room. It troubled her to think Donna might have caused the death of an innocent woman and had used a room full of her friends as a place for her to exact revenge.

  “Mira! Where are you going?” Bobby insisted.

  “I have to find her!” she answered as he caught up to her.

  “Find who?”

  Before her stood an apparition she’d never expected to see and Mira immediately stopped in her tracks. The figure was clothed in a long, light blue dress with a matching shawl and white high-heeled shoes. Her hair was long and black and her face pasty white. Mira remembered her when she was alive—how beautiful she was—a stark difference to what she was now seeing.

  “It’s Sally-Jo Petersen,” Mira muttered under her breath.

  “What did you say?” Bobby asked, standing next to her.

  “I thought it was Donna Jacobs who’d done this, but it’s not her.”

  Mira saw the fury in Sally’s eyes and followed her gaze toward the ceiling where Christie had been pasted like glue. She saw Christie’s body rotating slowly and with every inch of movement, the woman screamed in agonizing pain as her skin was obviously being peeled away with every turn. Everyone’s eyes were on the ceiling and everybody stood horrified by the unnatural, impossible event unfolding before them. Soon, Christie had been turned completely around facing her terrified audience below.

  “Help me!” she squealed, as if barely clinging to life.

  Sally’s eyes were glaring at her and Mira could tell that she was reaping pleasure from the macabre rendition.

  “Stop it!” Mira shouted at her from a distance of a mere ten feet. “This is not you, Sally-Jo; this is your hatred.”

  All eyes were now on Mira and they all attempted to see what it was she was witnessing.

  “She said Sally-Jo.” Monique turned to Scott. “Do you think she’s actually seeing that dead girl?”

  Scott only shook his head, unsure of what to believe.

  “She must be…” Monique went on, “…because I can’t believe I’m seeing Christie Hopkins stuck on the ceiling. So, she’s either there or we’re insane and need to be committed.”

  Suddenly, Sally turned and faced the crowd where Randa was standing and Mira knew right then Randa was in serious danger. She’d instantly picked up who Sally’s focus was and also the reason for her rage.

  The screams never abated as Pearl Callaghan couldn’t seem to get a hold of herself regardless of how her poor husband tried to console her. Strangely, no one from the outside had come to their rescue despite the shouts, screams and cries. It was as if they were in that five-star hotel all alone. Ten minutes at least had passed and there was no sign of the police. All of it was very concerning to Mira until she realized the barrier that Sally had been able to create—a soundproof barrier erected by her intense hatred for three girls whom she felt were responsible for her death. A barrier created by the stench of betrayal and pretentiousness. She’d locked all the doors and sealed them all in to witness her wrath.

  “Listen to me, Sally-Jo!” Mira cried. “I understand what happened to you and who were responsible. I know what you want and if you allow me to help you, I can get it to you—but in the right way. One of them is already dead and the other will be soon if she remains in your grip, but the last one can come clean in front of everyone here if you would give me a chance to make that happen.”

  Randa Maynard felt her feet leaving the floor and within seconds was hovering above everyone else with sheer panic on her face and blood-curdling screams fleeing her lungs.

  “Get me down!�
� Get me down!” she yelled.

  But there was no one to help her as she levitated at least six feet off the floor.

  “There’s a better way!” Mira told Sally. “If she dies, the truth will never be told and none of them would have to face the awful reality of what really happened.”

  It was at that moment Mira felt she was finally getting through to Sally and she quickly ran to the podium and grabbed the mic. Randa was still grudgingly standing on air.

  “Listen everybody…” Mira started. “As some of you know…I can see spirits, and it grieves me to tell you that a good friend of ours, Sally-Jo Petersen, who passed away years ago is among us tonight.”

  There was a collective gasp in the room. Pearl Callaghan broke away from her husband and ran toward the main exit crying and screaming, “Get me outta here!” to no avail. Her husband struggled to prevent her from scratching the door with her fingernails like a frightened animal.

  “Please, hear me out and try to calm down,” Mira continued. “Although we’re here in this room and understandably afraid based on what we’ve witnessed so far, Sally-Jo is not here for the majority of us. She will not harm us. She’s here specifically for three people: Abigail Shofer, Christie Hopkins and Randa Maynard—her former best friends—the girls, now women, who were supposedly her ride or die. The girls who are responsible for her rage.”

  Mira zoomed in on Randa who was trying to shake herself down and each time felt herself rising a little higher. “Randa—you’ve kept this incident a secret for a long time and we both know it’s been eating at you the whole while. Now’s the time to come clean; to tell the truth about what really happened to Sally-Jo.”

  Randa vehemently shook her head and suddenly, she found herself being flown through the air with incredible speed, directly headed toward the floor to ceiling window on the western side of the room—undoubtedly to her death.