Demon of Mine (eBook)

Levi B. LaBelle (Autor)

eBook Download: EPUB

2025 | 1. Auflage
140 Seiten
Bookbaby (Verlag)
979-8-3509-8866-6 (ISBN)

Infos

Daniel teeters on the edge of sanity, plagued by a spectral white wolf that stalks his every move. As he battles his inner demons, his world is further complicated by the reappearance of a past love, reigniting old flames and unresolved emotions. Amidst this turmoil, Daniel also navigates family responsibilities, adding another layer of complexity to his already fraught existence. Levi B. LaBelle masterfully weaves a tale of psychological suspense, gothic mystery, and deep emotional resonance in 'Demon of Mine.'

Levi B. LaBelle is an avid hiker and animal enthusiast with a particular fondness for dogs, foxes, and wolves. As a graduate with a Bachelor's degree in Literature, Levi's academic journey was enriched by a focus on Gothic literature, Shakespeare, and Mark Twain. Levi's passion for the eerie and the enchanting is reflected in their writing, which seamlessly blends dark psychological elements with the intrigue of isolated, atmospheric settings. When not immersed in the world of words, Levi enjoys exploring the great outdoors, always on the lookout for the next adventure.

---

Set in the tumultuous era following the American Civil War, "e;Demon of Mine"e; follows Daniel as he teeters on the edge of sanity, plagued by a spectral white wolf that haunts his every step. The brutal aftermath of the war has left him battling inner demons, and his world becomes even more complicated with the unexpected reappearance of a past love. As old flames are reignited and unresolved emotions slip to the surface, Daniel navigates family responsibilities and wrestles with questions of morality and purpose in a world that has changed irrevocably. His loyal, determined best friend stands by his side to help him conquer the shadows that threaten to consume him. Daniel faces a relentless struggle between hope and despair, searching for meaning and redemption in a landscape filled with both darkness and the faintest glimmers of light. Levi B. LaBelle masterfully weaves a tale of psychological suspense, gothic mystery, and deep emotional resonance, set against the backdrop of a nation trying to heal from its wounds.

Textauszug

Chapter I

A flash of lightning was followed by a crash of thunder close upon its heels. The sudden explosion of brilliant light and the deafening cacophony of sound wrenched Daniel out of his nightmare only to plunge him into a fresh one. He was lying spread eagle, his stomach and face pressed against the cold ground. He could feel plants sprouting between the gaps in his fingers, tickling the palms of his hands. The leaves emitted a dry cough as he shifted his body. Musty, damp earth filled his nostrils with every inhalation. Daniel forced his eyes open with the next flash of lightening, but the overlapping rumble of thunder subsequently caused him to flinch and dig his fingers into the dirt as though trying to force himself into the earth’s unyielding embrace.

Lightening from the storm made the forest visible for mere moments before casting it back into shadow. In these brief moments of illumination, Daniel saw the trees violently whipped back and forth by the harrowing wind. He also saw a horse tethered to a wild maple. The mare’s dark hide made it almost invisible against a dark night as it battled and raged against its restraints with wide-eyed terror.

For now, Daniel ignored the animal’s discomfort in favor of his own.

Blood.

Thick, sticky, precious life-sustaining blood was splattered over the carpet of dried leaves. Daniel lifted a shaking hand. Blood, fresh and vivid, followed the veins in his wrists. He touched the blood with his other hand, trembling, only there was no wound underneath. His ginger touch turned frantic as he rubbed one wrist, then the other, finding only undamaged skin under the gore. A quick examination of the rest of his body revealed that it was also whole and undamaged. He stared down in confusion at the blood-soaked earth, then back at his unharmed wrists.

He came to a chilling conclusion—it wasn’t his blood. It couldn’t be. He was unharmed; the only logical deduction was that it had come from another source. He had seen no obvious wound on the horse, and its continual struggle against its restraints only seemed to validate its intact vitality. So, whose was it? His body shook in a convulsion of panic. Another flash of lightening split open the sky, permitting Daniel another chance to strain his eyes for other sources of the gore. To his everlasting relief and bewilderment, he could not find any.

He tried in earnest to remember how he had come to be here, in this state, straining every brain cell to recall even a miniscule detail. His efforts were in vain. The events that had led him here as well as whatever had occurred on this plot of dead earth were an empty void in Daniel’s memory. Yet, despite this inability to recall, he knew something terrible had happened, leaving a tangible trace in its wake.

Great, icy droplets of rain began to fall from the sky, splashing over his feverish skin. The sensation provided some comfort. The rain cleansed the vibrant blood off the dried leaves and from his skin.

Daniel would never be able to recall just how long he sat in a petrified daze, letting the raindrops wash down upon him. Whether it was mere minutes or an hour, he rose on unsteady legs. By then all traces of blood had been spirited away in the tiny tracks the rain had carved in the earth. These tiny rivers fled down the slope, merging with the creek that cut through his family’s land.

When Daniel finally stood to his full height, his stiff body protested with aches and pains after being stagnant so long. Starting out tentatively, he walked the length of the clearing to relieve his knotted legs while searching for another source of the red liquid. Ears pricked for any strange or unnatural sound, he furtively moved down the grassy slope.

The shock of what he had awoken to and the dreaded possibility of what might have transpired had left Daniel rigidly paranoid, yet the seemingly peaceful atmosphere and the familiarity of the woods he had spent his youth in soothed his nerves a bit. The moon, round and full, ascended above the clouds, bright with muted light. It shone through the branches of the trees, providing a stark contrast to the opaque sky.

Just then something stirred. It shifted between the light given off by the moon and the shadows from the woodlands. Its movements had been so brisk that Daniel was unable to discern what it was. He saw only enough to know that something was there.

Daniel almost yelled out in shock and panic, but his instincts warned him to take caution and the yell remained lodged in his throat. His gut urged him to run, but his intellect ordered him to stay, igniting his curiosity, which in turn muted his panic into something vaguely controllable.

What if this animal was the source of the blood? What if the creature wasn’t an animal but a man? If it was an animal, Daniel could put it out of its misery. If it was a man, he was morally obligated to offer aid. Either way his curiosity would be satisfied. So he remained where he was and waited for whatever it was to reappear.

The thing—For it could be called by no other name since it had no discernible similarity to anything Daniel had ever seen before, alive or dead—crawled across the earth on all fours, hunched over from either extreme age or pain. It moved with an uneven tilt because its hind legs were longer than its front ones. The fur running along its back was torn and in places singed away to charred flesh. A sickening smell filled Daniel’s nostrils, burning his lungs. The foul smell reminded him forcefully of the damp earth of a newly dug grave and rotting flesh. Daniel’s eyes widened as the thing’s head turned to look at him with its dead, hollow eyes. It pressed through the light back to obscurity.

Great fear gripped Daniel then. It drove him to cast off logic and reason. It screamed at him to flee for his safety and sanity. He turned on his heels and sprinted back up the incline. Untethering the horse, he rode as if the Devil himself was upon his heels, pressing the mare to the threshold of its endurance. And still he yelled, “Faster!”

The icy rain droplets turned to pins and needles, replacing their comforting touch with discomfort. They passed the river where the branches of a great weeping willow rested along its bank, captured in the gentle movement of the lapping water. Wild trees like the maple, the tulip, and the holly were replaced by an apple grove. The backwoods and wild flora ended, replaced by manicured lawns.

The horse raced the length of the open fields, kicking up soft earth with its hooves, its breath heavy and labored from the merciless strain of the pace. It raced toward the safety of the white-pillared house, which stood back from the road, obscured by the apple tree grove, wrapping around its four sides. The house was approached by gravel driveways that wound through the wide-spreading lawns and under the interlacing boughs of apple trees. The gravel pathway crunched under the mare’s hooves.

Once they had made it up the gravel driveway, Daniel jerked the reins forcibly back. The mare tried to stop, clumsily sliding upon the wet gravel while he attempted to dismount. His foot hit gravel; his ankle twisted and gave way under him. He collapsed, unable to regain his footing quickly enough. His vision momentarily went white with pain as his head hit the ground. Blood trickled down the right side of his face and caught in his eyelashes. Yet this neither hindered nor slowed Daniel as he stumbled to his feet and struggled to cover the remaining distance to the mighty oak doors. Hands rendered uncooperative by sheer fright, he struggled to unlock the doors.

When Daniel finally succeeded in the elementary task of opening the doors to his ancestral home, he tore up the winding marble staircase, through the seemingly endless hallways, and past dozens of rooms, searching for somebody, anybody. His need to be with another human being at that moment was greater than it had been in his entire life. He would have gladly welcomed shame or ridicule, or any form of abuse. It would have been a comfort if only it could have been inflicted by another human.

After frantically searching the entire house and finding no one, Daniel stood at the top of the staircase, knuckles white and numb from gripping the marble railing beneath them. It must have been an animal, he tried to rationalize, a poor creature horribly mangled in some manner or another. He had perceived it as monstrous only because of its abhorrent wounds. Daniel was aware he had sustained a blow to the head. Now, his own injury had forced him into a hellish waking nightmare of sorts, exasperating an already frightful experience by distorting it, by twisting the very fabric of what was natural—for that wretched thing could not exist as he perceived it now.

For all the reasoning of a logical mind, Daniel was still in the thralls of hysteria when the front door was suddenly thrown open with a reverberating bang. It was almost more than his nerves could handle and he nearly toppled over the railing to the floor below.

Voices, boisterous with good cheer, suddenly altered with bewilderment. A woman and a man stood in the entrance, drenched from the rain that collected and swelled at their feet. Daniel quickly recognized the two as Abel, his oldest and dearest friend, and Maria, Daniel’s beloved sister. He nearly cried from the sheer relief their appearance gave him. This sudden solace left him feeling weak and tired, as if the world had drained him of all his energy and he had nothing left to give. Daniel’s world tilted horizontally on its side. He crumpled.

Abel and Maria...

Produkt-Details

• Erscheint lt. Verlag: 3.2.2025
• Sprache: englisch
• Themenwelt: Literatur ► Romane / Erzählungen
• ISBN-13: 979-8-3509-8866-6 / 9798350988666