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Authors: C.V. Dreesman

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BOOK: Cursefell
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     Clickety-clack.  Clickety-clack.
     That awful sound did as much to unnerve me as the thunder above.  As I lay there waiting, hoping that whatever this unseen danger was would pass, a wave of noxious odors wafted in the air to mix with the many other smells from the recent after school rush.  I don't think I can properly describe it, but it forced a silent dry heave from my belly.
     Clack.  Clack.
     The creature's feet landed inches away from my hiding spot.  Even without the lights on I could see a dark glint on the swollen feathers encircling what normally would be the shins.  Below the feathers, the creature balanced on black stalk like ankles above three toed avian feet.  They scratched along the wood like chalk screeching across a blackboard.  I was going to lose it.
     Before I let slip the sound that had been building in my throat, the door downstairs flew open and I heard the hollow tap of footsteps.  The bird-like creature whirled about and let out a predatory call.  A girl's startled shout from downstairs was followed by the frantic taps and scrapes of someone fleeing deeper into the Lair.  She tumbled over some chairs from the sound of it.  The bird-like thing spread its wings and jumped over the loft railing.  The girl yelled as the terror descended.  I knew that scream!
     Up and running, shoving chairs and tables before me, I took the stairs as fast as I could.  The smart choice would have been to try and slip out the front while the creature was distracted.  I might have made it.  It was what I would have done before my father died.  But caution had itself been laid to rest that day.  Especially when it came to those I cared about.  Anna, her scream tapering off into a whispery sigh, counted among that small cherished company.  It was why I could not run now.  Not even when nightmares took shape in the light of day.
     A bright flash from another bolt of lightning illuminated the room for a brief minute.  In that moment I saw a beast straddling Anna.  It was formed partly from a bird, a raven maybe, and partly from a woman.  The lower half of its body was wrapped in layers of sleek oily feathers so dark that the light was seemingly pulled into their depths.  The feathers ended above her waist where the pale skin of her human form began.  The skin itself stretched tightly across her bones, blue veins popping out from beneath the translucent flesh.  I swear I could almost make out the flow of blood traversing its organic path.  The feathers returned to form a band encircling her chest and shoulder blades, from which sprouted two enormous avian wings spreading wide above my friend.  Her head was clearly that of a middle aged woman.  It was bent low, close to Anna's face, a slow stream of vapor passing from her open mouth into the maw of the creature.
     I ran low, bent at the waist, full speed at the monster.  My body rammed into its side, knocking it away from Anna, and sent me sprawling.  Before I could recover, the sharp clinking from the creature's talons scrabbled towards me.  I turned over just as it fell on top of my prone form.  The weight was almost unbearable.  The stench pouring from her glands surely was.
     The she-raven leaned over me, her face only inches from my own.  I looked into eyes that were dark endless pits except for the red dot flaming at their center.  I had never seen a person with a red mark in their eye, let alone burning at its core.  Beginning to gag on the stench, I thrashed my head, but the stink lay everywhere and it was impossible to escape.  My mouth opened to suck down the air my nose refused to breathe despite the shrieking need of my lungs.  She twitched her lips, calm, before her mouth stretched even wider than mine.  The woman emitted a cooing sound as our faces aligned.
     I arched in response to something being pulled from my throat.  At first I thought she was stealing the air from my chest like that tale of the cat that stole a baby's breath while it slept.  But I could feel winter's chilled breath still rushing in and out from my mouth to my lungs.  I wasn't suffocating.  This was something else, something sinister.  This was the feeling of loss, the unraveling of the threads holding me together.
     As she unstitched the essence of my spirit, it spooled through the same vaporous mist I had seen pass from Anna to her.  I felt as though I could almost name the parts being stripped away.  They were the human parts, the knotted scales that kept the curse restrained.  The more she took the less and less constrained the curse became.  The more that was taken, the nearer the monster came.
     Out of the corner of my eye I could see Anna laying close by.  Soft lids were shut over those warm friendly eyes, arms relaxed beside the body.  Her chest rose and fell with a stuttering rhythm, lips slightly parted.  Anna could have been mistaken for some enchanted princess in that beautiful repose of slumber.  Relief flooded through me, tempered by the terrifying thought that Anna had been hurt because of me, because of what I was, just like my mother.
     I quickly scanned the darkness over the she-raven's shoulder.  No eyes blazing like twin blue suns met my sight.  I was relieved.  Even though Galead had swore he would always save me, I was glad he was not there.  He would not be hurt.  He would not see.
     If I could have formed a grin on my paralyzed lips it would have been wide and wicked.  I would have to settle for letting my eyes convey the mirthless chortle from that voice inside me, while hiding the fear I felt at its coming.  The coldness of it beat through me like the drumming rain against the walls and the shattering sound of the storm against the windows.  At least you won't hurt anyone else, I thought as the vapors pulled from my mouth darkened to the color of shadows.  I won't let you.
     We stared at each other, the woman and me.  Her dark wings fanned out, sensing my weakening state and the end of my struggles, I imagine.  If only I could have had the chance to tell her one last thing.  Of course, I could not speak the words.  I could only think them.
     Now let me show you a real monster...

END OF BOOK ONE

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

C.V. Dreesman is an award winning writer.  He has worked as a Private Investigator, a front office Manager in professional Baseball, and a Helicopter Flight Crew Member.  C.V. Dreesman lives with his wife, his beautiful muse.  His son, his greatest pride, inspires him to dream and to strive.  His family, near and far, continuously encourage him.  C.V. also shares a home with a fluffy white cat that thinks she owns the place.  Maybe she does.
Connect with C.V. Dreesman on Facebook (C.V. Dreesman) and Twitter (author_dreesman)

BOOK: Cursefell
11.95Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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