An ancient vengeance threatens to arise when Jenna is visited by a cryptic man who desperately needs her help to break an evil curse. She reluctantly agrees and soon discovers that there's always more to any situation than meets the eye. Can Jenna tap into a power hidden deep inside of her and save them both? Or will her growing affection for the mysterious man serve as their demise?
The clock flashed in the darkness, mocking her sleeplessness and paranoia. The recurring nightmare of her childhood – the one where she saw herself laying in a vast clearing in the woods under a full moon, bleeding to death – hadn’t haunted her in years. Tonight, however, it shook her from her sleep, and she was wound too tight to lie back down.
The night seemed to whisper in a tone meant to caress her soul, but the sound was tinged with something darker than the moonless sky outside her house. It chilled her to the core. She anxiously searched the room again for something tangible causing her fright, but it was an exercise in futility. Nothing lurked behind the cracked door to her closet, and no frightening devils under her bed waited to grab her and pull her into the Netherworld. She was utterly alone.
And perhaps that’s what was most frightening.
Her terror overwhelming, she offered a prayer against the darkness in a frantic whisper. Her mother used to recite this prayer with her, over and over, until she put aside her fear of the dream and fell asleep. As a child, it had been her only sanctuary.
Now, she was on her own, and she spoke the words fervently, hoping to find the same peace it had brought in her youth. “Please do not forsake me to evil. I ask you to protect me from whatever beast, man, or spirit steals my peace and robs my sleep.”
A cry ripped through the heavy silence, shattering the last of her calm. She cringed against the headboard, backed away from the sound of large wings flapping outside the large window that now seemed like a portal into hell. She drew the thin sheet up around her neck as if it offered protection. The darkness seemed to thicken and solidify before her eyes as she stared at the delicate glass, and a scream bubbled in her throat. She swallowed against it as the first tear spilled down her cheek.
The whispers came one on top of the other. Try as she might, she couldn’t make out the words, and they jumbled in her head in a painful knot. Her heart pounded near explosion, and she gulped deep, sobbing breaths. “Please, God, no!” she cried, though she didn’t know what threatened her. Wisps of night swirled around her like clouds, brushing against her cheek and leaving a trail of ice in their wake. She swatted at them, and her sheet slid to the floor, leaving her feeling exposed and vulnerable. As she prepared to cry out, the voices condensed, and a single word rang so clear she didn’t know if it was aloud or in her own head.
About the author:
Robin Bonzon has been writing since she was a child, and has always been passionate about the stories in her head. She has a penchant for the Paranormal and can't resist hoping that werewolves and vampires really do exist. She lives in Dallas, TX, where she spends a great deal of her free time watching horror movies with her husband, Justin, and dancing with her very mature 1-year-old son, Tristan.