When Darkness Whispers

Genre:                        Young Adult/Supernatural Thriller

Title of Book:            When Darkness Whispers

Story Synopsis:

Quinn Taylor’s perfect life is crumbling. Dad’s left, mom’s a workaholic, and Jeff, her boyfriend of four years, has betrayed her. To make things worse, her inner demons are materializing everywhere and the whole school’s spreading lies about her weird behavior. Aaron Collier, a mysterious boy with a troubled past, comes to her defense. An intangible energy draws her to him. She wants to tell him about the demons, about unearthly shadows and leathery beasts crouched on her shoulder. But she’s afraid that he’ll turn his back on her, that he’ll confirm her worst fear: that she’s crazy. Jeff wants her back. Her demons push her to the edge. Quinn must decide: Aaron or Jeff, truth or lies, death or destiny.

 

1 Peter 5:8
Be self-controlled and alert. Your enemy, the devil prowls around like a roaring lion looking for someone to devour.

PROLOGUE

The forest went silent. No breeze. No cricket song. Quinn paused to listen to the uncanny stillness. Then she felt it. Something crouched in the darkness, watching her.
Enormous trees stood sentry around the tiny clearing, their gnarled and twisted trunks mirroring the feeling inside her stomach. She held her breath and listened. No growl. No footfalls. No sinister laugh broke the macabre silence. She scanned the forest for any unusual movement. Nothing stirred. Not one leaf.
Perspiration trickled down the small of her back. She shivered. Three deep breaths slowed her heart to a manageable pace. Now, to focus on the real task: finding her way out of these woods. 
Moonlight glowed through the canopy of bare branches. Broken patterns of light illuminated a narrow trail across the clearing. That one, she thought. Dry leaves littered the forest floor; their brittle veins crunched under her black leather boots. She glanced over her shoulder, searching the darkened woods for the glowing eyes of her predator. She paused. Something moved behind her.
A heavy fog weaved through the maze of trees. One by one the rough trunks disappeared, devoured by the calculated hunger of the swirling gray mist. The smoke coiled itself around the clearing like a boa constrictor waiting to strangle its prey.
Quinn’s legs urged her to run. She clenched her fists and willed her body to stop shaking. Instinct battled rational thought as she tried to stay calm. Panic would drive her to be careless. She would have to go through the fog to get out, and she had no idea how far its cold gray fingers reached.
Her sweat-soaked turtleneck clung to her like a cold, clammy second skin. She watched for a break in the dark ring, but it lingered there, the moonlight eerily absorbed by its gray-green mist.
Minutes passed, maybe hours. Every muscle in her body ached. All sense of time distorted as she stood vigilant, watching the smoky threat. Another minute went by. Maybe ten. It remained coiled around the clearing, its presence constricting every thought of escape. She flexed her fingers and licked her dry cracked lips.
Finally provoked, the fog began undulating in slow rhythmic pulses. It danced in the moonlight capturing the rhythm of her heart and echoing aloud the beat, beat, beat, of her fear. She pressed her palms against her ears to block the drumming sound.
A long gray tendril uncoiled itself from the massive body of fog. It slithered across the clearing. She retreated, panic moving from her stomach to her feet. She backed into a sturdy oak, its rough bark catching at her long hair.
Something brushed against her leg. It felt like a human hand, a dead human hand; cold and damp, the moistness of its earthen grave still clinging to its rotting flesh. Bile rose in her throat, and she swallowed hard to keep from vomiting. The corporal mist found her palm. She shuddered as it inched its way between her fingers and wound itself around her wrist.
She jerked her hand from the smoke’s grasp. It dissipated. She dropped to the forest floor and flattened herself against the hard earth, picturing her body disappearing beneath the fallen foliage.
Two new wraith vines shot out from the darkness, grabbing her legs. She clawed at the ground as the tendrils dragged her into the fog. Dirt and twigs lodged themselves under her fingernails. The earthy decay, disturbed from its winter slumber, filled her nostrils. Earth to earth, she thought, as tears slid from her eyes.
More tendrils slithered toward her. The fog hissed. “We’re coming for you, Quinn.” Two grabbed her wrists, lifting her off the ground. They encircled her body, squeezing every part of her. “You can’t get away from us.” She couldn’t move, she couldn’t breathe. “We know what you are. There’s no escape, you must die.”   

 

CHAPTER 1

     

      Quinn, wide awake, watched the red minutes on her alarm clock click through the hour. Six-fifty-nine. Only one more minute until seven, until daylight. The radio crackled to life.
“XTRM the extreme music station. All your favorite hits, all the time. And now here’s Skipping Zombies’ new hit, Intensity.”
Golden-pink light splashed across the butter walls, bathing the room in the warmth of sunrise. She turned the radio up, Intensity being her favorite song this week, and danced around the room as if to ward off any evil spirits that still lurked in the early morning shadows.
Barefoot, she padded across the pristine oak floor and opened the window. The scent of fresh cut grass lingered in the air. It smelled of summer, not fall. She pulled her black boots from under the chair. A dead leaf clung to one of the soles. She studied the dark corners of her room. She pulled it free and brought it to her nose. It smelled musty and damp, fresh from the woods. She searched the shaded corners of her room.
Don’t be stupid. She thought. You’re perfectly safe.
She shoved the boots under her bed and headed for the closet. Her summer shoes stood stacked in boxes on the top shelf. Standing on her tip-toes, she pulled at the top box. It wouldn’t budge. She jumped, catching the corner of another box on the way down. That box caught another, then the next one, and an avalanche of boxes tumbled to the floor, their contents flying everywhere. Summer shoes, old letters, and pictures littered the cream-colored rug.
Note to self. Reorganize closet. 
She crawled along, placing each item back in the box. Old notes from her best friend, Teresa, playbills from her trip to New York, ticket stubs. She smiled at an old birthday card, a clown juggling three small poodles on the front. Hope you have poodles of fun on your birthday.
A picture peeked out from inside the card. She slid it from its hiding place and sat back on her knees to study it. Quinn, frowning, arms folded across her chest, stood beside her father.
His wide blue eyes and dimples could charm a snake, Quinn thought. And did. Her stepmother.
Her father’s arm encircled her mother’s waist. She smiled at the camera, blonde hair blowing in the wind. The perfect couple. The four stone presidents of Mount Rushmore stood in the background, unknowing witnesses to their last vacation as a family. Quinn strained against the stinging tears, squeezing her eyes shut to dam them up.
Quinn vented her anger on the unsuspecting photo, ripping it into several small pieces and shoving them into the trashcan. Her cell phone vibrated on the nightstand, startling her as it rumbled for attention. She grabbed the phone, leaving her pain and anger buried in the trash with the torn image of her past. One new text message flashed on the screen.
Had 2 go in early again. More probs with the build design. There’s $ on the counter if you want pizza for dinner. Don’t wait up. I’ll be L8. Luv U. Have a gr8 day @ school. :-)
It annoyed her when her mother used text speak. Mom spent too much time browsing cheesy parent’s websites like how2comunic8withyourteen.com, and not enough time actually communicating.
Thx Luv U2
The kitchen gleamed like a show home kitchen. Quinn couldn’t remember the last time an actual meal had been cooked in it, if ever. Andrew Jackson peeked out from beneath her car keys. She folded the twenty and put it in the pocket of her jeans. Maybe she would order Chinese, a nice change from pizza. No time for toast, the clock on the microwave reminded, so she grabbed a cereal bar from the cabinet and headed out.
Quinn pulled into an empty space next to the tennis courts and a good walk from Westland High’s front door. She glanced at her watch. Just enough time to get to class, if she ran. Slamming the door of her brand new cherry-red Mustang, she darted for the main entrance, dodging a few other late students as she sprinted past rows and rows of cars.
Rounding the corner of a white pickup, she froze. There, blocking her way through the front doors, were Jeff and Kerstin. Kissing.  Jeff stroked Kerstin’s hair. They went for another round of tonsil hockey, took a brief pause to check the time, and kissed again.
Quinn ducked behind the bed of the truck and hoped they’d finish their CPR practice without noticing her. “Please go in, please go in,” she begged under her breath.
Jeff nuzzled Kerstin’s neck. Kerstin nibbled his ear. He laughed. She grabbed his hand and they disappeared into the building.
Relief washed over Quinn. She leaned against the truck, the cool metal calming the heat that rose in her cheek. A shadow crossed to her left. Kerstin. Coming to gloat. Quinn adjusted her backpack, crouched down, and pretended to pick something up off the asphalt. The dark silhouette grew closer. She rose from her crouch and prepared to look surprised. Quinn stood alone, but the shadow lingered on the concrete, long and lean, clearly defined, backpack slung across one shoulder.
Experimentally, she moved toward the door. The black mass split in two, one moving with her, the other moving to the left. Two distinct Quinn-shaped shades silhouetted against the ground, mirror images on each side of her.
She scrutinized the twin shadows, searching for an explanation for their actions. She took another step. The right one followed her as normal, but the left one, the weird one, moved a fraction of a second later, stalking her.
“Not funny!” She paused, waiting for some response. “Kerstin!” She expected her smirking face to appear from behind a car. “I know you’re out there. Jeff?”
Her stalker leaned forward, bending at the waist until its shaded lips touched her ear. “Did you see them?” it asked. “Did you see how happy they look together?”
Quinn pinched herself hard enough to leave a mark, pain flooding her arm.
The other shadow joined in, bending forward like its doppelganger. “You weren’t good enough for him,” it said.
Quinn covered her ears, but the voices came at her from the inside out.
“Not like Kerstin.” The dark Quinns joined hands. They circled her, dancing, singing and teasing like children on a playground.
 “Kerstin is pretty.”
“Shut up.”
“Kerstin is smart.”
“Shut up.”          
“Kerstin is sexy.”
“Shut up!” Quinn’s words echoed off the cars in the empty parking lot and collided with the clang of the first period bell.

 

CHAPTER 2

      Aaron Collier shifted his backpack over his left shoulder and glanced down the hall, getting a fix on his target. With his right hand, he deftly spun his locker combination, glancing up between numbers to make sure Quinn hadn’t escaped into the cafeteria without his knowledge. Just fifteen rows away, she flickered in and out of his vision as the crowd of hungry students came and went.
In AP English they had been put in the same discussion group to debate if Hamlet really loved Ophelia? Quinn argued that he did love Ophelia, but his grief and need for revenge caused him to waver. Aaron noticed the dark circles under her eyes and the distracted way she curled and uncurled her hair around the finger of her left hand as she spoke. He wanted to ask her why she was late this morning, if she felt okay, but chickened out, sticking instead to the arguments of love, madness, and revenge.
She’d sat next to him in calculus, giving him a smile that stopped his heart. It had been the perfect opportunity to give her the poem he’d written. He waited for Mr. Minks to turn back to the whiteboard, but the folded piece of paper wouldn’t detach itself from his hand, and before he knew it, the bell rang. It ended up at the bottom of a wastebasket with a banana peel and a half empty can of soda instead of in her hand.
Now, fortune smiled on him for the third time in one day.
Say something to her before Teresa and the others show up. Say something, anything. No! Not just anything.
In his head, Aaron rehearsed the perfect line. Heard you and Jeff broke up. I’ve been waiting four years. Please go out with me. I know we were made for each other. Can you say restraining order?
“Yo, Aaron! What’s up?” Marcus leaned a muscular shoulder against the neighboring locker, blocking Aaron’s view of Quinn.
Aaron shuffled to the right until her golden hair flashed back into sight. Kerstin’s a slut, Jeff’s an asshole. They deserve each other. True, but maybe a little too blunt. He thought.
“Did you notice Quinn’s lateness to class this morning? Old Mrs. Glacier sure gave her the ice over. Brrr.” Marcus hugged himself and shivered.
Aaron rifled through his locker looking for his Economics book. Hey, Quinn, are you okay? Let me know if you need anything. I’m a great listener. Way too girlie.
“Quinn Perfect is never late for class,” Marcus said.
Hey Quinn, you rock my world. Sounds like Marcus, not me. Be yourself Aaron. She’ll like you if you’re yourself.
“Dude, are you listening to me?” Marcus thumped him on the ear.
Aaron flinched, still sore from the piercing. “Yeah, I heard you.” He slammed his locker.
“Hey, man, I didn’t mean anything by it. It’s just unusual for Quinn Perfect to be late, that’s all. It’s a compliment. You know I’d never dis your girl.”
“She’s not my girl. And I’m sure she’s not perfect.”
“Yeah, right. Not perfect? Look at her, man! The hair, the ass, the legs leading right up into that short little cheerleading skirt.” Marcus grinned. “Don’t tell me you don’t think about the short little cheerleading skirt.”
“The skirt’s an added perk. And don’t forget the smile.”
“Who could?”
“And the phrase dumb blonde doesn’t come close to applying to her. You should have heard her in AP English today. I know some brunettes who would kill to have her brain.” Aaron wondered how many steps stood between them.
“Brains and beauty, a deadly combo if you ask me,” said Marcus.
“Well, I didn’t.” 
“I know you’ve been drooling over that one since sophomore year, but now we’re seniors, man. You can have any girl you want. Have you seen the fresh meat walking the halls? Let’s line up for the all you can eat buffet.”
“I’m full, thanks.” Aaron breathed deep, ready to take the plunge. He’d do it this time. Talk to her, ask her out.
“Why waste another day on Quinn when there are so may hotties running around? Jenna’s crushin’ on you. She’s hotness personified, and you two have a lot in common, music, the band, church, and those raging teenage hormones.”
“Jenna’s just a friend.”
Fifteen steps at the most. He thought.
“What about Marie? Oh, oh, Marie, now there’s a fine one.  She told me all the girls talk about you.” Marcus cleared his throat and put on his best Marie impression. “Oh, Aaron, he’s so mysterious and good looking. She called you man candy. Can you believe it? You’re not as sweet as me, of course. I mean, I’m like Godiva chocolates, and you, well, you’re more like a Goober.”
Ten long strides, twenty short ones.
“How come you never ask any of them out? I know a few who are a sure thing,” Marcus said.
“Sure, Mr. Virgin. All talk and no action.” Aaron punched Marcus on the shoulder.
“Hey, not so loud. You might ruin my bad-boy image.” Marcus looked around to see if anyone had heard, then winked at Aaron.
“Whatever, everyone knows it’s just an act. Besides, I have other things to think about. Like family, grades, college.” Aaron looked at his watch. Come on feet, move.
“Jeff’s breakup with Quinn? I know you heard all about it. The whole school’s a buzz with the four-one-one. After four years he dumps her for that bloodsucker Kerstin. Even I wouldn’t hook up with her. Hey! Wait! Is that why your shirt’s tucked in?” Marcus sniffed Aaron’s neck. “Dude, how much cologne did you put on?” 
“Shut up,” Aaron said.
“Well, if you really want her, now’s your chance. Quinn is sure to need a little comforting. If you know what I mean.”
“I was working on that when your big mouth interrupted me.” Aaron slumped against the locker. “Too late now.”
“You gonna let them stop you?” Marcus gestured at Quinn’s circle of friends. “You say she’s not perfect, but maybe she’s perfect for you.”
“I don’t even know what to say to her. Everything I think of sucks.”
“Just walk up to her, put your arm around her shoulder, smile and say, Quinn, you rock my world. The girls go crazy for that line.”
Aaron laughed.
“What’s so funny?” Marcus checked the fly of his baggy jeans to make sure the barn door wasn’t open. “What?” he asked again.
“Seriously, you can’t tell me that line actually works. I bet you’ve never even used it.”   
“Oh, that hurts.” Marcus grabbed his chest in mock pain.
“Okay. I want proof. Teresa Moon’s with Quinn. I dare you to lay that foolproof line on her right now. Fool.” Aaron said.
“No problem man, just watch the master at work. She’ll be mine in no time.” Marcus slicked back his brown hair and flashed his best smile at Aaron. “Well, let’s go. I’m not going alone.”
Fourteen steps.
Aaron regretted the dare now. What would Quinn think? He would have to say something clever.
Ten.
He couldn’t just stand there like a dummy at a sideshow.
Nine.
Sure, he’d talked to her before.
Eight.
But things were different now. She and Jeff weren’t together anymore.
Seven.
And that meant he might have a chance.

      Three tries and Quinn still couldn’t get her combination to land on the right numbers. She looked over her shoulder. Her doppelganger had disappeared but the feeling of being watched hadn’t.
She jiggled the locker handle and tried again. Fourth time’s a charm. Her locker opened with its usual squeak. Books with different colored covers stood in row. She replaced the red literature book in the empty space next to blue covered calculus and pulled her thick yellow French book from between chemistry and economics. Something tapped her shoulder. She whirled around. Kerstin, hands behind her back, smirked at her.
“What do you want?” Quinn glared at Kerstin.
“I found this in Jeff’s locker.” Kerstin thrust a red heart-shaped frame at Quinn. “Take it. He doesn’t want it anymore.”
Quinn grabbed the picture from Kerstin.
“Thanks, Kerstin. It’s so sweet of you to think of my feelings.” Quinn threw as much sarcasm into her voice as she could.
“It’s the least I can do.” Kerstin shot her a mocking smile. “See you at practice.” She swished down the hall like a satisfied cat swishing her tail after cornering her pray.
“What’s with all the Kodak moments?” Quinn traced the frame with her index finger. Jeff’s favorite picture of the two of them stared back at her. The perfect couple.
Jeff, tall and blond, wore the purple and red Westland High colors. A mustang blazed across his chest. Quinn stood beside him, dwarfed by his 6’2” frame. She always felt safe in his arms.
“Four years together.” She muttered to the picture as if it were Jeff in the flesh. “No going to A&M together, no marriage. I thought I knew you. I trusted you. You blew it. What do you see in her anyway? Asshole! God, I wish cameras had never been invented.” Quinn threw the picture frame into the back of her locker, slamming it shut.
“Hey, what’s itching you?” Teresa brushed her long black hair out of her face with her fingers.
“A rash that won’t go away,” Quinn said.
“Does the rash have a name? Oh, let me guess.”
“I don’t want to talk about it. Okay?”
“Hey, Quinn! Reese!” Ami bounded across the hall, her arms full of books, eyes flashing. “Want to hear the latest?” Ami launched into tell-all mode before either had time to answer. “Well, I just heard from Shannon who heard from Ashley that Marie is desperately in love with Aaron Collier. Do you blame her? He is so cute. I wouldn’t mind going out with him, if I weren’t dating Jordan, of course.”
Ami grinned, shuffled the books in her arms, and pushed her wire-rimmed glassed back up her nose. She took a huge breath, filling her lungs with enough air to carry her through the next part of the gossip.
“Anyway, Aaron, have you seen the motorcycle he rides? And his earring? Marie really wants him to ask her to Homecoming, but he just doesn’t seem interested. I heard he’s into you, Quinn. Why don’t you go for it? Get your mind off of Jeff. You have to have a date for Homecoming. You can’t go alone, and Aaron would be perfect. Just think how pissed Jeff would be if you showed up with Aaron on his bike snuggled up close so you wouldn’t fall off. Are you listening to me?” Ami followed Quinn’s gaze across the hall.
Jeff and Kerstin were in a serious lip lock.
“Can you believe them? Don’t they ever come up for air? Get a room!” Teresa yelled at the two tongue wrestlers. “He’s such a jerk. You should be glad you’re not with him anymore.”
Teresa and Ami moved in front of Quinn to block her view, but the image had already burned itself into her memory. Quinn felt like throwing up. Everywhere she turned, there they were, rubbing her face in it. Why did he leave her for Kerstin? The words from the mysterious shadows echoed in her mind.
Kerstin is pretty.
Kerstin is smart.
Kerstin is sexy.  
Fog seeped from the purple lockers and folded itself around her, cloaking her in overwhelming doom. Ami and Teresa’s voices sounded miles away. Their forms, eclipsed by misty darkness, faded in and out of her vision. She tried to focus on the black-and-white tiles of the hallway floor, hoping to steady herself.
Focus, Quinn, focus on the tiles, she told herself, but the tiles swirled together turning gray. She tried to fight the darkness, tried to reach out for her friends, tried to scream, anything to escape this drowning feeling. The tiles came closer now. The cool black and white tiles of the floor came to soothe her troubled mind.