The Fall of the Nine (The Time of Tears Book 2) by Jonathan Dominguez

Author:Jonathan Dominguez [Dominguez, Jonathan]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2019-07-02T22:00:00+00:00

Chapter 9-

Shadows of the Mystic

The shadows of the trees appeared, amid the setting sun. Their figures grew until they faded into the rest of the black, surrounding the entire clearing that the cottage had been built, secluded and safe. Its black wood blended with the earth and green tones that the evergreens and their oaken companions towered, watching the meeting of things that must have been planned for ages. Here, in a man-built cottage, after unspeakable things, the dark cottage that had been acquired through the ending of the world contained horrors from eons passed. Around the edges, the snow had melted, and the grass had died and decayed from the darkness within. The front door’s seal was peeling, years of sunlight stripping the protective coat. And inside, sitting in the candlelit living room was a man, overcome by the black, away from the dancing light. He sat, eyes lit up with a pipe and its embers glowing as he drew in the tobacco. The thin mustache never dropped from the creases in the subtle grin.

“What are you?”

The voice was only a step above a whisper, eerie.

Across from him, over six feet and naked, Carnegie’s pale flesh was a contrast. The man quaked in the exposure to the thin insulation, the room uncomfortable. He knew who was wrapped in shadow, sitting across from him in the dark.

“I am a man.”

A creepy laugh, half recognition and half disagreement, echoed back in reply.

“Let me go.”

“No.”

Carnegie slammed both fists onto the arms of the chair where he sat unbound. Footsteps from the back of the cabin approached and Carnegie’s eyes shifted to the woman who had kidnapped him. The woman who had tortured him. Almost raped him.

“She is a diversion, still an affront… I see.”

Carnegie looked away, absent from the chair without a sound.

“I was thinking we would… mmmm.” She paused. “He’s trying to send his mind somewhere else, honey.”

Janessa spoke to him like nothing had ever happened between them that day.

“Fuck you.”

Carnegie swore, between his chapped and cracking lips.

“Well now, that was mean. Not sure if I like it or not quite yet…” Janessa had the same impish grin she had earlier. “Wait, yes, it is sexy.”

As if the black itself reached around her, two black hands wrapped around her stomach and one around her neck. In a moment, Janessa’s eyes rolled into her head and she fell to the floor, collapsing with a thud. Carnegie glanced around, seeing him sitting in the chair, across from him, sucking on his pipe as before.

It was as if he had never even moved.

“There. Now we will not be interrupted.” He expelled smoke from his nostrils and then a little from his lips and that perfect goatee. “Returning to my original question, what are you?”

“Is she dead?”

Carnegie ignored the question and motioned with his head, seeking closure. He shook his head.

“I am a man.”

“I am aware.”

Carnegie rubbed his arms, the cold about to be too much. “I don’t know what you are asking then.”

With an invisible hand cloaked by darkness, he motioned.

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