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[Wolfe]

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Hello all, a bit of a teaser. I'm not finished with it yet, but here's the first chapter:
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Chapter One: A Dark Awakening.

The sickly looking man tossed and turned in the small hospital bed, his gown nearly soaked through with sweat. His skin was as pale as the slithers of moonlight that filtered in through the shuttered windows. A monitor nearby sent green light bouncing off of the dark walls as it beeped at regular intervals, announcing a stable heartbeat. The man had a bandage wrapped about his head, his eyes covered, and his leg was in a cast, suspended from a piece of cloth hanging from a pole above his bed.
“No… no…” he muttered, shifting as much as he could with his physical restrictions. He sweated fervently, and the beeping noise from the monitor began to speed slightly.
“Never… leave me alone…” he mumbled, throwing an arm over the bandages where his eyes would be.
A nurse peeked her head in to the dark room, having heard the commotion from the hallway, and stepped in with a slow sigh after she saw the man’s distress. She shut the door behind her with an obnoxious click, sounding like a thunder clap in the dark and quiet hospital. This wing was quite empty, as per the orders of the hospital director, and the man on the bed was one of the only patients occupying it.
“Adam… Adam, wake up,” the nurse whispered softly, placing a hand on his shoulder gently.
Adam stirred, and then stilled, turning his head toward the sound of her voice. “Am I dead?”
“No… it is me, Sherry, your nurse. You were having a nightmare,” the nurse said, smiling sadly down at the man. He had suffered serious head trauma, and she doubted he would live much longer. She hadn’t seen under the bandages, but she had heard it was bad.
“Sherry,” Adam whispered breathily, reaching a hand out and grasping her arm, gripping tightly but not painfully, “don’t leave. I can’t be alone. There is no light, not when I am alone.”
“I can’t stay all night, Adam. Do you have any family that I could call?”
“No… no, don’t leave,” Adam said, gripping a little tighter.
Sherry sighed quietly, thinking carefully of the options. She had already checked the other two occupied rooms, and wouldn’t have to check again for some time. “I will stay, Adam. Just rest, you need to get your rest.”
“Thank you, Sherry. Thank you so much,” Adam’s head rolled to the side slowly as his breathing began to abate. His hand slid from her arm and rested at his side, and he breathed deeply for a moment. “I will never see again, I think… my eyes, they’re gone…” Adam felt the sting of tears as they tried to force their way through mangled ducts, but they would not come.
“There are options…” said Sherry, unsure how to reply without evoking fear or unfounded hope.
“No. Not for me… even while I wake, nightmares haunt me… I cannot open my eyes to see the world before me, only the one that torments me when I sleep. I don’t think I can live like this,” his words were slightly slurred, but his thoughts coherent.
“It will be alright in the morning… nights are always rough in a hospital,” said Sherry, trying to sound reassuring. She was beginning to feel very nervous for some reason, and glanced around at the dark shadows that haunted the room. She was the only one on duty in this wing, and she often felt very alone.
“It will be… won’t it?” said Adam, sighing deeply. His lips fluttered slightly in to a small smile, and then he was still, his breathing and heartbeat now regular and deep.
“Good night, Adam,” said Sherry, standing slowly and walking toward the door. She heard a scuffle in the corner and turned, but saw nothing. She had a tendency to freak herself out in the long night shifts, especially in this wing. She continued on her way out and the door clicked shut behind her.

It was early in the morning, a hot morning at that. There was a slight presence of fog still as the moisture was lifted from the dewy grass by the hot summer sun. Even in the city, in the shade of the tall sky-scraping buildings, one could barely breathe through the humidity.
A black car pulled up slowly to the emergency entrance of Faith Hospital, the best healthcare facility in the city. As the car pulled to a stop, the passenger door popped open and a man stepped out, fully decked in typical investigator garb. He had a gray suit on, and a gray fedora to match. He wore square glasses that made his face look far too serious, and stepped with a long stride on polished black shoes that shined far too much.
A man in a white doctor’s coat emerged from the automatic doors of the emergency entrance of the hospital, hand extended toward the man in the suit. “Ah, detective Rane, I am glad you could make it. I’m sorry we had to call you in so early,” the man grasped Rane’s hand and shook it.
Rane retracted his hand and dusted it off on his pant leg, as if he had felt dirty in touching the other man. “It’s quite alright, doctor Belinger, I am sure the situation has called for such drastic measures.”
“Oh, yes, of course. Walk with me, I’ll explain it on the way,” said Belinger, turning and motioning for Rane to follow him.
Detective Rane reached to his head and lifted his gray fedora from his head, holding it at his waist with one hand and combing the fingers of his other through his thick, dark hair.
“As you know, we received a patient early yesterday, his eyes badly damaged and his skull fractured. After your people delivered him to us, we stabilized him as best we could and placed him in the vacant wing. We figured he wouldn’t live through the night, with his injuries as bad as they were, but we wanted to make him as comfortable as we could,” continued Belinger as he and Rane made their way down an empty corridor.
Rane nodded, “He’d tried to tear his own eyes out. We told you that, right?”
“Oh, yes, of course… you did. It was in the report we received. Any ways, there was one nurse on duty last night, and she was to keep an eye on the three patients that we had in the vacant wing. We reserve that wing mostly for special cases like these. People who we think will not make it to see the morning, or other such tragic situations…” Belinger took a deep breath, pressing a button on the wall next to a pair of large doors. A buzzer sounded, and the doors swung open. He walked through and took a right down another corridor, a sign overhead reading “Mental Ward”
“Well, this morning we found the man dead in his room. We expected him to be dead, like I said, but not like this. He was stabbed, detective, and I do not think it was suicide. It doesn’t look to be self inflicted, but I’m no expert on these sorts of things…”
“Stabbed? Interesting,” said Rane, now gripping his fedora with both hands and working it slightly. His dark eyes studied the drably painted walls as they came in to a section of the hospital that was obviously older than the rest. The vacant wing.
“Yes, well, anyways… we thought you might want to see the body. I know you’ve been actively involved in his case. And you instructed me not to contact anyone else.”
“Good work, Doctor. You’ve been most helpful,” nodded Rane.
Belinger slowed and motioned to a door, and Rane opened it and stepped through. He blinked a few times, looking at the bloody mess on the hospital bed. “Adam… what did you do?” he muttered under his breath.
“Leave me for awhile, I’ll need to have a thorough look around,” said Rane, looking at Belinger.
Belinger nodded a few times, his eyes darting nervously around the room, “Of course… I’ll be, ah, you know where I’ll be. The nurse can find me. Oh, and detective,” said Belinger, pausing for a moment, “The nurse on duty seemed to think she knew something about this. Perhaps you should speak with her… here, this is her address, she should be home now.”
Rane took a piece of paper from Belinger as he offered it, looking at the scrawled words on it. Rane nodded once to Belinger and the doctor left, wringing his hands nervously.
Rane walked over to the hospital bed, where Adam lay broken. He was limp, one arm dangling from the side of the bed, his head at an odd angle, and his casted leg now bathed in crimson. Rane looked down at the trail of blood that had dried down Adam’s arm, filling in the cracks of his palm, and frowned a bit. He saw a slight pattern forming, and took note.
He crouched down next to the bed, looking closely at Adam’s form as it lay still. His bandages were still secure over his eyes, but Rane knew what gruesome condition lay beneath those white wrappings. He reached in his pocket and pulled out his cell phone, flipping it open and dialing a quick number. After a glance over his shoulder, he heard someone answer.
“Barry’s Rib Shack, what can I do for you?” said a cheerful voice on the other end.
Rane spoke evenly, his voice serious, “I’d like the special. With no sauce.”
“Uh… oh, I…” the voice cracked slightly, and Rane heard a click. Another voice answered.
“This is Mara Gardener’s office, how may I help you?”
“Detective Charles Rane here, let me speak to Mara.”
“Of course Detective Rane. It will just be one moment,”
The sound of some sort of shrill instrument filled his ears as he was put on hold. He was always irritated by this runaround process, but he knew it was necessary, for whatever reason.
A soft, pleasant voice rang clear through his cell phone’s speaker, “Mara Gardener here. Detective, is that you?”
“It is. We have a problem.”
“What is the problem?” asked Mara.
“Adam is dead. They got to him,” said Rane, inhaling deeply.
“rubbish,” Mara said, sounding perturbed. Her words became rushed, and she began speaking a little quieter, “He was the Healer, Charles. You know that. Without him, there is no hope… why couldn’t you just keep an eye on him?”
“He was the vessel, Mara. The Healer is still out there somewhere. Adaemus cannot be killed, you know that.”
“You’re insufferable sometimes, Charles. I know all of this. But now all of our work in finding him has been wiped clean. We’re starting from scratch again, and frankly, I don’t know if we have time.”
“Quit worrying. We’ll find him again. Has anyone come looking for you?” asked Rane.
“No, not yet. But they will. I’ll be relocating, in case they pulled any information from him before they killed him. You should consider the same.”
“I won’t run anymore, Mara. It’s time for us to face our demons,” said Rane, and he flipped the phone shut. He flipped it open again, and dialed another number.
“Faith City Police Department, what can I do for you?” said a slightly hostile female voice on the other end.
“Detective Charles Rane here. We’ve got a suicide at Faith Hospital. Send a clean up crew.”

Mara Gardener moved swiftly about her office, having just hung up the phone. She went to the large bookshelf on the wall opposite her desk, and began taking books from it and piling them in to her arms. She glanced about frantically, whispering to herself all of the things she would need before she could leave. Important pieces of information that could not fall in to the wrong hands, she had to protect them and keep them with her at all times.
She placed a stack of books on her desk, and picked up her telephone again, hitting a key on the base.
“What can I do for you, Mara?” said the voice of Mara’s assistant over the receiver.
“I need boxes. Inform the dean that I will be leaving this evening.”
“I’ll have them for you as soon as I can.”
Click. The voice was gone, and Mara stood gazing out of the tall, decorative window that was behind her desk. The campus of Faith City Community College was quite exquisite, more so than most affordable colleges. The sunlight hit the carefully arranged trees outside of her office, as they swayed in the warm summer breeze that tended to flow through the green area known as the College Park. Students lounged in the shade of the luxurious trees, reading their books or napping. She had enjoyed her stay here, but it was time to move, and quickly.
Mara continued gathering her things, and when her assistant arrived with a large box, she piled them inside and hefted the box up carefully. Mara was growing frail in her old age, and had to be very cautious in how much strain she put on her body. Her harsh features and gray hair kept most of her students at bay, however, and she rarely was under much physical strain.
There was a quick knock at the door to Mara’s office, and she set the box down and turned to see the person who knocked already stepping in. A short, bald man, in a black pin-striped suit stood there facing her. He was a good foot shorter than her, and had an angry glare in his eyes.
“You can’t do this to me, Mara.”
“Dean Truman, I do apologize for the suddenness of my departure. It is necessary, however,” said Mara, sitting on the edge of her desk with her arms crossed tightly over her stomach.
“I have a hard time believing that. You are the only professor within a thousand miles capable of teaching our Demonology courses. You don’t think we’ll take a hit from you just up and leaving? Students will leave. I know it.”
“I hope that’s not the case. There are plenty of educated individuals in my field. I am certain you will find someone to replace me in short order,” she lifted her head slightly, staring down her nose at him a bit.
“Don’t give me that look. Damn it, Mara! We’ll lose our research grant! You can’t do this to us!” Truman shouted, his forehead beginning to bead with sweat. He appeared to be growing angrier by the moment.
“I must, Leonard. I do not have a choice. If I do not leave I will be killed,” she said, matter-of-factly.
Leonard Truman licked his lips slightly, casting his gaze downward, “You’re a good teller of tales, Mara. You’re throwing us to the wolves. But I wish you luck, as a friend…”
“Thank you, Leonard,” said Mara, turning away from Leonard and gazing out of her high arched window once more. A cloud had drifted over the park, casting it in a gray light. A darkly dressed man moved slowly between the trees, his eyes fixed on Mara’s window.
“Where are you going, Mara?” asked Leonard, but she wasn’t listening.
“I must go now. They’re already here,” Mara muttered, grabbing the box of books and other items, and pushing past the quickly protesting Leonard Truman and out in to the hallway.
Her heels clicked against the polished wood floors as she walked hurriedly toward the back exit of the school. She had parked there purposely every day since she heard of Adam’s incident. She knew that if she had to escape quickly, she would need to escape from the back.
She heard footsteps behind her, and saw the dark clothed figure there. He was a wicked looking man, standing quite tall, with pale skin and dark hair hanging limply to his shoulders. He kept his head down slightly, but his eyes remained on Mara.
She hurried her step, and turned a corner, rushing down some stairs toward the exit door. She stepped out in to the sunlight and saw her car only a few hundred yards away. She sighed quietly, and did not dare glance over her shoulder again. She walked past several groups of students talking amongst themselves, and reached in the pocket of her dress pants and clicked a button on a device attached to her keys. The trunk on her blue four door sedan popped open, and she rushed to place the box inside.
She clicked the trunk shut and looked up. The darkly garbed man was standing directly in front of her car, staring at her with the wickedest grin. His teeth were black and yellow, rotting with decay, and his lips were cracked and bleeding.
“Mara…” he whispered, his voice gravelly and hostile.
“Leave me. You’ll not get what you’re seeking from my death, Naal,” her voice was shaking with the fear that was gripping her body. She couldn’t move, all she could do was grip the faux spoiler on top of her trunk.
“But what if… you lost everything?” Naal said quietly, his words echoing in her ears, wrapping around her brain like deadly vines of despair, bringing forth images of everything she knew withering and dying.
Mara’s eyes clenched shut. She tried to fight the images, but she was racked with tears and hunched over on her trunk, weeping heavily. She felt nothing but loss. Nothing but complete and utter loneliness. Everything she knew had died and been destroyed, and she was all that was left standing.
Naal gazed at her, amplifying her despair with his wicked whispers of the most desolate scenarios. He walked slowly toward her, until he was within an arm’s length, and placed his hand gently on her shoulder, leaning down to whisper in her ear “You have nothing to live for.”
Mara stood up slowly, her eyes glassy, and she climbed up on to the trunk of her car. Without a second’s hesitation, she dove head first into the concrete with a deafening crack. Her eyelid twitched for a moment as a pool of blood formed beneath her head, but then she was still.
Naal’s cracked, bleeding lips twisted up in to a wicked grin as he watched her slowly slip away. He smashed his fist through the top of the trunk and fidgeted, feeling for the locking mechanism, and ripped that away as soon as he found it. He withdrew his arm and lifted the trunk lid, looking at the box of books and scrolls that had been so carefully guarded from his grasp.
Naal took the box in his arms and turned away from the lifeless body of Mara Gardener, just as the scene was noticed by some passersby. They would note his presence, but they would not dare tell of it, for even a thought of him was enough to take away their will to live.
The darkly garbed man named Naal, having obtained this information that would bring him and his Masters one step closer to utter Destruction, just couldn’t seem to rid his wicked face of that equally wicked grin. His step had a jaunty bounce as he made his way toward some dark and uninviting location where he would file away his new found morsels of knowledge.

[Jonathan Strathmore]

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Wow! I demand to be sent it when you are done.

[Leshok Majere]

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its got an interesting story, not sure though, something about the style makes it feel like less of a hmm story/novel, and more like a post? not sure how to explain that, maybe its the style of your wording, felt a little hmmm uncomfortable?

Very imaginative, keep it up!
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After all these years, I'm still putting up with Kuja and Vaen? whats wrong with me?

"Fri Jan 14 20:07:01 2005 [08:45:38] Kuja: ghaahahahahahha...ha..h.a..... NOTHING TO FREAKING DO IN GAME GAH"

Some things never change even after 4 years...

[NightShade]

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The premise behind your idea is unique and original.

This is a book I would buy and enjoy. Just a note, though I wanted more detail and description towards the end seems like you rushed a bit to get your point across. This may have been intentional.

The beginning had great description and was beautifully done. Overall your first chapter is really good, it needs a bit more detail perhaps but thats it!

I wanted to give a bit of constructive criticism as I know that you dont just want a ton of praise when perhaps a bit of criticism will help you make this a best selling novel.

Your a good writer, excellent, I love the book, I love the premise. Send me more!

Shade..
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Something is Wrong, I can still feel Existence...

[Wolfe]

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Thank you very much! And yes, I am looking for critique as well This is still the first draft, so I've done very little editing/adjusting. I'll take in to consideration your comments, and look over it.

I'm not sure how much I'm going to release, but I may post the second chapter eventually.

Thanks again for taking the time to read it (I apologize for the formatting, forums take away my indentations.)