The Witching Hour Read online

  Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright

  Annabelle

  Wraith

  Annabelle

  Fenrir

  Annabelle

  Annabelle

  Annabelle

  Lucian

  Annabelle

  Annabelle

  Wraith

  Annabelle

  Annabelle

  Annabelle

  Annabelle

  Annabelle

  Helio

  Annabelle

  Fenrir

  Annabelle

  Annabelle

  Lucian

  Annabelle

  Annabelle

  Lucian

  Annabelle

  Annabelle

  Annabelle

  Epilogue

  The End

  The Witching Hour

  BY

  K.M. Raya

  The Witching Hour: Copyright © 2019: K.M. Raya All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, businesses, places, events and incidents are either products of the author's imagination or used simply for the purpose of furthering the storyline and do not represent the institutions or places of business in any way. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental or used for fictional purposes.

  “I dream of a place of perpetual darkness. It’s not the darkness of the sky after the sun has long set beyond the horizon, but rather the darkness of the underground. I dream of this place often, though I know it’s nothing more than a dream. Not a nightmare, I’m surprised to know for certain. I feel as if I belong in this darkness more than I have ever belonged in my reality. But I can never stay here. Eventually, the twinkling lights I see above me will fade as the light in my bedroom window glows across my sleeping eyelids. The mountains in the distance will grow hazy and the sweet smell of jasmine will be nothing more than a memory as I wake in my bed once more. It happens this way each morning, no matter how hard I try to stay asleep. Nothing I do will change it. I lament the light. I mourn the night and long to stay.”

  - Annabelle

  Annabelle

  ‘Something smells in this room.’ Her nose twitched with the need to sneeze, making her eyes water in the cold, sterile classroom. She’d tried to pinpoint the source for an hour now, but it was such a pungent, thick smell and it seemed to fill the space around her, making her wonder how nobody else was smelling it.

  She looked around at her classmates and noticed nothing out of the ordinary. They looked bored and tired as usual, some of them were even on the verge of falling asleep rather than gagging at the stench. It wasn't a particularly bad smell, but it was tangy and sweet. It filled her nostrils and traveled to her lungs thick like syrup. ‘I need to get out of this room…’ she realized abruptly. There was something welling up inside of her, preparing to snap. Mrs. Olivier was currently and thankfully distracted at the front of the classroom as she ignored the group of seniors who wanted nothing more than that final bell to ring. The plump, elderly woman was reading one of her smutty romance novels like she always did. ‘She probably won’t notice if I slip out,’ she reasoned.

  Shoving her notebook into her bag, Anna left her seat silently to dash out into the hallway. The air was much clearer there. Stopping to breathe in deeply, the smell of floor cleaner tickled her nose, but anything was better than that strangely dense scent that had invaded every one of her senses in that room. The hallway was empty, which was to be expected in the middle of the day. The lights flickered as she walked, causing her to squint against the harshness of the fluorescent bulbs. They grated on her irises and she could feel a headache coming on. It made her gums ache and her skin prickle, which was already becoming too much for her to handle. She needed to get home, but even the thought of that place made her want to retch. She knew what waited for her there.

  Outside the school, the sky was bright blue, and the grass looked greener than it ever had before. It made her dizzy. She’d always hated the summer and the sunny, warm weather that came with it. As she walked down the street towards the house she reluctantly inhabited in with her foster family, the Carltons, she found herself daydreaming of moving to Portland next Fall. After researching for months, she finally found a place with the ideal climate of rain, rain and more rain to suit her unusual preferences. Portland was just the place for someone like Anna with its overcast days and cool sea breeze blowing away the heat of the sun.

  Graduation was in two weeks, but still she was forced to stay. Being underage as a senior seriously sucked and the only way the Carltons would let her leave was if she enrolled in college and lived on campus. Knowing this, she’d applied for school early and with her grades being perfect as usual, she’d been accepted almost immediately. Things were falling into place and soon she would be free.

  Turning seventeen that year hadn’t been a monumental occasion, regardless of the fact that it means one year closer to freedom. It wasn’t a particularly special birthday, especially because she didn't actually know the precise day her real birthday fell on. After being left at a convent when she was a toddler, the nuns had only been able to make a roundabout guess as to her age. She knew she was seventeen that year, but the date was a mystery. She could feel eighteen draw near though. She could feel it like a change in the wind.

  The Carltons never celebrated her birthday and so mostly she disregarded the years as they passed. The family was nice enough but stifling in their faith-based way of living and penchant for crucifix decorations. They hung in every available space in their home. Those damn crosses made Anna sweat uncomfortably every time she passed one. Richard Carlton, Anna’s foster father, happened to be the pastor at one of the local churches just down the road from their home. His wife, Beverly and their daughter, Katie, were just like him—sunshine, scripture and judgement on legs. They treated Anna about as well as expected of people in their righteous position, but she knew they regretted taking her in. She could see it in their eyes day after day. ‘They fear me. I can almost smell it,’ she thought to herself with a dark chuckle. A part of her reveled in that fear. A part of her craved it.

  Most of Anna's life had been spent in the same foster home. The Carltons had taken her in when she turned five but had never signed the adoption papers. She liked to tell people, including Beverly, that she had no recollection of her life before foster care. But that would be a lie. She did remember some things. The whole picture was missing but she still had pieces… pieces she held onto for dear life. They were all she had left of what could have been.

  She remembered her mother most of all. It was more than most foster children could have asked for. She never asked Beverly or Richard about the adoption because she refused to let reality soil the memories she did have. To be truthful, she couldn’t exactly say if the memories were even real or not. How could they be? She remembered her home before the night she had been whisked from her bedroom, but the memories were only snippets… like remembering a movie you watched years ago. The walls around her had been a deep purple, lit softly by hung torches that blazed next to her small bed. The flames were blue in her memory for some reason… Wispy black curtains draped floor to ceiling over a velvet purple chaise lounge that sat beneath the window leading out to a stone balcony. The ceilings of her room were three times as tall as the ones in her current bedroom and her memories seemed to give her a vague sense of vastness. She may have even lived in some sort of mansion... an old, possibly haunted mansion?

  She remembered looking out that window more than enough times for the sight to leave an imprint on her heart. She recalled the black as night mountains which hovered in the distance—too far away for her to make out their details, but close enough for her to long for them. Below the window lay a vast garden filled with night blooming jasmine. The air always smelled of jasmine. Sparkles lit up the dusky night as far as they eye could see. Forest trees dotted every available space between homes, as if the inhabitants had simply blended themselves around the landscape rather than encroach on nature. It was always night where she came from, but instinctively she knew that it was not true night. Something was off about the sky, she remembered.

  Her mother had been beautiful—with black hair much like Anna’s and icy blue eyes to match. She looked the way Anna might have imagined she would look in another ten years or so. At night, her mother would sing to her as she fell asleep. She remembered the deep siren song, coaxing her eyes closed before her mother would place a single kiss between her eyebrows. She felt her love in every memory, and every time she wondered why the beautiful woman had given her up. It was a question that haunted her. There was something living inside of Anna’s soul that was restless. Each day in that house with the Carltons felt like she was playing a part that was meant for someone else. She wasn’t this person. She didn’t want to be either.

  She took the long way home, hoping to drag out as much alone time as possible before she would need to be back home. By now, the last school bell had probably passed, but still she slowed. The afternoon heat was becoming too much and little droplets of sweat beaded on the nape of her neck, made worse by her thick sheet of black hair that she chose to wear loose that day. She picked up her pace when a shiver ran down her spine. An awareness was slowly creeping up in the back of her mind—tickli
ng at a memory there.

  Something was watching her. She didn’t know how, but as sure as she knew she was breathing air, she knew there were eyes on her. There were thick trees all around the winding road that lead from the school to the neighborhood she lived in with the Carltons. Northern California was a beautiful place and she had always loved the forests, but right now she felt stifled… trapped. Squinting her eyes to the tree line, she searched. Anna held her breath… as if that would help anything.

  ‘There!’ In the shrubbery, were two dark eyes of something unknown and entirely alien. Something was crouching behind the bush, shrouded in the darkness that consumed the forest behind it. Those eyes were watching her from the shadows. A normal person would have felt paralyzing fear and the need to run away, but Anna only felt… compelled. She wanted to get closer to that knowing gaze. There was something incredibly intelligent about those eyes the longer she watched them and she refused to look away. They stared back at her just as curiously.

  Suddenly, a dark shape rose from the bush, eyes traveling with it. The thing was massive and so dark that it was like a hole had been ripped out of the fabric of her reality… but still, those eyes... They shone like glass orbs in that endless abyss. ‘Could it be a bear?’ she wondered dumbly but shrugged it off with a huff. It was too slender to be a bear—too tall to be a wolf or a mountain lion. Deep down though, she knew it wasn’t any of those. No, whatever she was staring at was something… other. Still, she felt no real fear. Only curiosity.

  Around her, the forest became quiet and the sun seemed to dim ever so slightly. Fog began to roll in around her ankles despite the heat of the May afternoon. She knew this wasn’t normal, but she still hadn’t managed to pry her eyes away from the creature. She was utterly ensnared. It was as if time stood still and all that lived was her and the beast. Taking a tentative step forward, the thing flinched backwards, and she feared for a moment that it would disappear. She held her hands up in a pacifying manner, hoping to convey that she meant the creature no harm.

  It blinked. She blinked too. Then she smiled. It was a soft, serene smile that she felt in her gut. The closer she got; the more warmth bloomed in her chest. Contentment fell over her for the first time in years. Something about the creature made her feel… happy. Out of the blackness, the glinting of something pearly white shone through the shadow. Like the light escaping the event horizon of a black hole, rows of needle-sharp teeth winked at her and she felt her heart do a little stutter in her chest. Still, there was no fear. Her smile just grew.

  Time stood still as they shared their private moment, but in the metaphorical blink of an eye it was gone. She hadn’t turned away. She didn’t close her eyes. It simply vanished as if it had never even been there to begin with.

  Wraith

  It wasn't supposed to happen this way. He’d looked to his brothers in horror and devastation upon that first catastrophic stutter of his heart—signaling the demise of a royal he was duty sworn to protect. The Night Queen was dead, and her Hounds along with her. It should have been impossible, but instincts couldn’t lie.

  The Court had gathered in the span of minutes, each with a look of utter agony plain on their faces. They’d rushed the castle gates in droves, demanding answers he didn’t have for them. The guards had barely been enough to hold them back as they fought to get to their queen, but in the end they never made it through the gates. The hounds had been dispatched and soon the nobles fled back to their own estates, grieving the loss of their monarch. Her death had been felt like a shockwave though the realm, and even now his chest still ached.

  Wraith watched the dark-haired girl from his perch beneath the tree outside of her bedroom window. The house she lived in with those awful people was nestled tightly against the tree line. Perfect for watching. For waiting in secret. He’d been there for years, always close by. Well… either him or one of his brothers at least. Lucian and Fenrir were around somewhere, he hadn't checked in for a while. Since the queen’s death a week prior, he’d been somewhat standoffish when it came to his brothers. They were always in his head, never allowing him a moment to breathe.

  Wraith’s heart was aching for the girl that slept just inside the high window above him. He knew she slept because he could hear the deep, melodic sounds of her heart as it slowed. She was in pain; he could already tell. It was beginning and there would be no stopping it now. He could feel her aches as keenly as he could feel his own fingers on his hand. She was a part of him like another limb. Right now, her mouth ached, her skin itched and her head had to be killing her. He longed to scale the side of the house and leap through her window. He wanted nothing more than to soothe the pain away, but it would do her no good.

  This was nothing compared to what awaited her come morning…

  Annabelle

  Fire. It ripped through her body in waves, but she couldn’t scream. Something was very wrong. She blinked her eyes open but closed them again immediately. It felt like sheets of sandpaper had replaced her eyelids. On her tongue, she tasted something bitter. It tasted like rust. ‘Blood…’ she realized. She tasted thick blood as it seeped out from her gums and trickled down her throat. Why was she bleeding? Had she fallen? No. That didn’t make any sense. Nothing was making any sense.

  She moved to touch her hand to her head, but her arm jerked back, unable to bend at the elbow. ‘What the hell?’ Cold metal wrapped around the skin of her wrists. She cracked her eyes open again, this time, the tears building in them soothed the sandpaper feeling inside. The room was dimly lit with flickering torches on each of the four stone walls. The scene was vaguely familiar, but she couldn't place it. Underneath her was a soft mattress but the softness didn’t lessen the aches that plagued her body. Her skin hurt so badly she wanted to peel it off just to make the pain go away.

  Now that her eyes had adjusted to the darkness, she could see that the bed was positioned dead center in the large room. Her feet were bare and bound to the bedposts just as were her arms. Panic was taking over. Darkness, she could handle, but feeling trapped, restricted and caged was one of her biggest fears. Anna thrashed from side to side, trying to break the chains but it only seemed to cause her more pain. Pain was the only thing she could feel.

  Thirst was the next agony that ripped through her. Her mouth was incredibly dry, and it made her smack her lips together. They were peeling and cracked so badly that she could taste more blood on them. ‘How long have I been here?’ she wondered. She was dehydrated and clearly too weak to do much more than stare at the high, vaulted ceiling. Had it been hours? Days? There were no windows in the room for her to make any sort of judgement and it was even more disorienting.

  A rumbling startled her in the silence. She realized a moment later that the sound had come from her own stomach. It clenched and she let out a low moan as cramps seized her. It felt like there was something inside of her, begging to claw its way out, but aside from that, there was an aching emptiness that was begging to be filled. She’d never been this hungry in her life… or this thirsty. She was desperate for something—anything to soothe it.

  Anna thought back to the last thing she could remember, wondering how she’d wound up in this predicament. She remembered skipping out on dinner with the Carltons, claiming she had a headache. They hadn’t cared and she hadn’t expected them to. Secretly, she knew they were counting the days until she was out of their lives for good. She was just a blip on their picture-perfect life. They’d done their civic duty by keeping her alive, fed and clothed, but that was it. She never attended family gatherings, hadn’t had any birthday parties. For the most part, Anna hid herself away in her bedroom, preferring books to interacting with Katie.

  Thinking through it so bleakly made it seem like Anna didn’t want or need friends. In reality, she craved friendship and the kinship that came with being close to somebody… anybody, but something held her back every time. She was just too weird for anything lasting to take hold. In school, kids attempted to befriend her at first. While Anna was always polite, she would eventually turn them off. She was a beautiful, if slightly off-putting child, it was easy to see why so many were initially drawn to her. Boys especially. But it wasn’t enough. It was like she couldn't fully invest herself in a relationship of any sort and gradually closed herself off from the friends she tried to make. Eventually they left the weird pale girl alone and forgot about her entirely. It had been that way since grade school, the feeling of… otherness.