Fire, Ice & Blood: Revenging the Evil Series, #1

Prologue

Summer 2012:

CHASE STOOD IN FRONT of a Victorian house with paint peeling, the grass had grown up several feet in front, the windows were broken, and graffiti marked the front. The once trimmed hedges made it look more like a large ramshackle immobile beast with its carved teeth squeaking. It was bad enough that everyone in town knew of the ghost stories about the place, but the damage from the neighborhood heathens was worse.

As the summer breeze blew through Chase’s dirty blond hair, his green eyes sparkled while he stood on the sidewalk in front of the scariest place his parents ever told him about. He was told, his mom’s last night here at this house was the start of their real relationship and eventually the marriage of his parents; his dad saved her life that night.

His mother, a beautiful, almond-eyed, raven-haired, olive complexioned woman who loved to smile; would often glide her petite frame across the floor when she thought no one was looking. She was sassy when she wanted to be but also loved her family fiercely. She told Chase the story of how she and his father got together many times over the years. It felt like something was always off about the whole thing. It was like she left out a few details or there was something she didn’t know. As Chase stood looking at the old place, he felt the vibrations of the ghosts that still remained in the residence after all this time.

His father, Jake, a family man with a few small secrets, always warned him to never go near the place. Chase used to ask him why and all his dad would say, it wasn’t safe. He didn’t tell Chase it was because he was like his dad and had the power to see things with his mind. Although, that part he figured out for himself when he was younger and kept having strange dreams about people he never knew. Then, watching the news later in the day, Chase would see the people from his dreams in murder photos on the screen flashing through their deaths as if he were standing in the room watching. Once, he awoke from a vision screaming about how he had killed someone. His dad surmised it felt so real to him, he thought he’d actually stabbed someone. It used to upset his mom so he stopped telling her about it and would only tell his dad. Jake understood because it always happened to him too. They shared many stories over the years.

Blinking furiously, Chase decided to enter the house, get to the bottom of the mystery about the ghosts, and maybe even find a way to help the tortured souls rest. As he got closer, the vibes he felt were stronger, he could feel the pain of death from within the walls. It made his heart race as the pain felt of jagged needles flowing through his veins ending up in his chest as the racing continued. His body was filled with the tiny jabbing of thousands of knives from head to toe. For a minute he staggered, reaching for the hedge, waiting for the sensations to die down. He stomped a path in the tall grass and made his way to the porch. The rafters were falling in toward the back and the floorboards were creaking in places that weren’t broken or breaking. He teetered on the creaking mass of old wood as he stood looking at the front door. As he made his way closer, he shuddered, as if it were only thirty degrees, even though it was still eighty degrees in the evening and the light was beginning to fade into the west.

Chase peeked in through the glass portion of the front door to the enormous house. He saw the walls still held the replica paintings of Neo-Classical art depicting angelic scenes with the Wingback chairs, chaise lounge, and plush sofa still in place; decay and dust was evident even through the filthy window. No one came to claim the belongings of the people who had once lived and died here.

Chase stomped his way from the porch, through the tall grass, and into the back yard of the apartment house. His dad told him there was a door that led down to the first-floor kitchen. It was as good a place as any to start learning about the ghosts.

Once located, the door stood with its paint peeling and glass severely cracked. The door, like most objects, stood silently in the light of day without anyone around to see or hear the ghosts who constantly opened and shut the door; trying to get the attention of anyone they could. The ghosts, hidden within the house, wanted out but couldn’t leave. They were trapped there; inside their mausoleum.

The piercing silence and the light breeze was all Chase could sense. The breeze died down, as he moved closer to his objective. He stood in front of the door, took off his t-shirt and wrapped it around his tanned hand. He bashed in the glass of the already severely broken pane in the door. After unwrapping his hand, he shook the broken shards from the cotton shirt, hearing them tinkle on the ground for only a moment. He replaced the t-shirt, put his hand inside the gaping hole, and unlocked the door. As he opened the hard wooden door, a cold breeze engulfed him.

Chase entered quickly and shut himself inside a house he was scared to be in. He’d heard too many stories, his mom told him about the slit throat of Cheryl the writer, and his dad told him about the face being ripped off the landlord, the whole thing was a horrific tale of brutal truth. Five out of the six patrons of the place died in one night. One damned night. But why? His mom and dad still didn’t know why the murders took place. No one that came onto the scene after it was over could tell them a thing, it was just gruesome, and they were lucky to be alive.

Chapter One

Five years ago:

Ireland

PALE LIGHT SHINED THROUGH the window in the morning, gleaming off the white walls, did nothing to stop the pain inside her head. It was searing through her brain, needles and knives cutting through the scalp. The claw marks on the side of her face were her own. The pain grew to be unbearable around midnight the night before. Her eyes hurt and she couldn’t sleep.

The monster inside told her she didn’t have long. She couldn’t wait to end the pain. Too many tears, it hurt too badly to keep on living. How am I going to explain it? He’ll never believe me. He’ll think I’ve gone crazy. Maybe I have. It’s always a possibility. Why is my head talking to me?

What the fook is goin’ on ‘ere? She sighed as she glared at herself in the mirror.

As she looked out the window and down at her small lawn she thought about all the death she’d seen over the course of her short life and how those ghosts haunted her every day. She thought about seeing all those spirits, even when, she walked by an old church in Sligo, Ireland in the township of Collooney. There was one on a hill she passed on her way to visit an old friend once. It was filled to the brim.

When she went walking down the road, Alana didn’t have to imagine the worst horrible scenarios, they were being laid out before her eyes and only she could see them. She saw them everywhere causing her to run to the rescue of the friend who lived in that particular town. When she told him about all she’d seen he was the only one who didn’t look at her as if she were crazy. He looked like a believer and she trusted him with what she’d seen.

Rory had been all over the countryside and seen a great many supernatural workings. It was his pastime to record them into a great ledger and one day he’d be able to add them the ample history of the Irish people. Ireland being known for its Celtic mystery, Rory hoped to add to the legends and lore.

He wrote down all of Alana’s findings and kept them safe for her. He also was one of the only people she ever talked to—she had built a closeness with him. He also knew that her spirit was fading, she was depressed and having a rough go of life. Things in her world were killing her insides. One thing he didn’t know was that she’d been having the headaches and the pain and then the voices.

Will he understand? I don’t want to hurt him, but will he get it?

It wouldn’t be long now, and she wouldn’t have time to explain to Rory what was really happening to her. Ghost sightings were nothing compared to what was going on in her brain. He might really honestly think she’d gone nuts, in the end, although she hoped not.

Something had to be done about the pain, it was excruciating. Her own thoughts were of death. Her death. Then the voices would have to go away, the pain in her head too. But she thought of Rory, she would miss him a lot. Her face was suddenly wet from the dripping tears as she thought about leaving her friend behind.

Her sparkling eyes saw things in a blur. The images that were always in front of her were shadows and blobs. She cried until her head hurt so bad she wanted to carve out the mess inside it.

In her tiny one-room flat in the center of town, she sat on her little chocolate leather sofa staring at the floor, memorizing the pattern in the ceramic tile. It was dark brown with red coursing through it, as if her blood had already hit the floor running in some marble pattern. She thought about the letter she’d written and Rory.

Alana left the letter on the dresser in her flat for Rory, one she’d written the night before. She gave him all the reasons, all the explanations as to why she might kill herself, and put in the one picture she had of them standing beside an apparition. The apparition looked like a wisp of smoke but it wasn’t, they both saw it. On the back of the photo, she said in her handwriting, ‘This is it. This is why. Rory, there is so much more than we imagined out there. It’s all real.’

As she cried, Alana saw the ones around her. The ones that were always there, like a huge group of banshees waiting to take her home all the time. In the blur she knew who they were, some were family members, some were just people that came because she could see them, so they followed her. Not all spirits were good. Some of the ones that surrounded Alana tried to get her to end it well before her time was up. Her family members always got them to stop goading her. This time, none of that was needed and she sat silently letting the tears fall.

This was to be Alana’s last night on earth. She couldn’t take the pain. Not anymore. The voices, that was just too much. And her heart, her heart was breaking so badly she couldn’t begin to explain it to mortals. All her life she spent trying to do good works for others and love people. Her soul was not black yet she felt it was. Rory spent a lot of time telling her she was wrong and she loved her friend for that. She would miss seeing him when she was gone.

Alana laid on her bed, tears falling from her eyes running onto her pillow, her red ringlets splayed out on the white case. She stared at the ceiling with her emerald green watery eyes, her hands held off the bed sides as the blood rushed from her wrists onto the tile floor. Time was waning. The voices were growing dimmer. She could hardly hear them at all as she breathed her last breath.

United States:

THE BIG CHEERFUL, YELLOW vinyl-sided house on the corner of an old highway was anything but ‘sunny’ inside its walls. The lights in most of the house flickered silently giving warnings to the inhabitants that spirits were upended.

Jake paced the hallway; his footsteps making the old floorboards creak, running his hands through his blond hair. He was looking at the photos on the pale blue walls in the upstairs hall of his and Holly’s home. His nerves were plaguing him. His twelve-year-old son Chase came up to him, looking him in the eyes.

Dad, what’s wrong with her? Chase innocently asked.

She’s having a breakdown, son. There’s nothing we can do but let her finish it, so she can get better, Jake said.

What’s a breakdown?

Chase, your mother is having a mental episode. What she needs right now is to know we’re here and that we love her.

Okay, Dad. I can do that, Chase said quietly, hugging his father, he walked down the hall to his room and closed the door. He was silent as Jake continued to pace.

As he was walking, Jake’s heartstrings were pulled tight; his emotions were high, although he never let on. He was worried about his Holly. With everything she’d faced, she needed him strong and she couldn’t deal anymore. He didn’t know how to help her.

Jake, Holly whispered through the crack in their bedroom door.

Yeah, babe?

Please, come in here.

Jake opened the door to his bedroom, entered, and closed the solid oak stained door. He sat on the edge of the bed looking at his wife. He didn’t say a word as she rose off of her pillow to sit up. Her straight dark hair fell around her shoulders down her back. Her hollow dark brown eyes searched his face as she looked into his green eyes through his glasses.

Jake, I’m sorry, she choked through her tears.

Why are you sorry? Jake asked Holly as he looked down at her.

For–for–um, shit–for all this mess...

What mess are you talking about?

Me. She wistfully glanced at him before looking down at her hands.

Hon, with all you’ve been through, I’m surprised it took you this long to fall. You have every right to feel what you feel. Just remember, we love you and want you better. Jake scooted closer to Holly and hugged her hard. Tears began to flow from her as she cried hard against his chest. He held her tight and let her cry, he said, Just let it out finally. Let it out...

I love you, Jake, Holly said as she cried.

I love you too. He sat there holding his Holly for a while. She cried until her breathing was normal again and she backed away from him, looking into his eyes as hers still watered. Jake grabbed her tiny hands and held them in his. Breathe, babe. It’s gonna be okay. I promise. We’ll make it.

Okay, honey, Holly whispered as Jake helped lay her tiny body back on her fluffy sapphire colored pillow case in their bed and left the room. A few minutes later, he checked in on her and she was sleeping.

Jake Loughlin spent the next few nights worried about his Holly and how she’d sunk into her deepest spot ever. He never truly knew how dark it could get for her because she never let him see. Her world had crashed against the shore and broken into shards of what it was before, all she had gone through finally got to her. Twelve and a half years she’d kept it inside her, the night everyone she lived around was murdered. She also knew Jake was the