Inside Realms: Story Collections by A. F. Stewart

Devoid

I wish I had my eyes closed.
Then I'd know why I can't see.
Everything is black, there's no light, no shapes.
I'm blind.
And I don't know where I am.

I'm sitting on a damp cold surface, my back against something hard; it feels like stone under my hands. Maybe I'm in a basement. I think I am alone, at least I can't hear any sounds, in fact there's no noise at all. It's a perfect silence.

I don't know how I got here.
Or where here is.
I'm so scared.
The last thing I remember is... being happy.
I was with Jeremy.
Jeremy, where's Jeremy?!
What if he's been... ?

I reach out and my hand touches a hard surface, more stone, I think. I feel my way along the stonework to find four walls. I think I'm in a very small room, but I can't locate a door. I try to stand, but my head hits a solid ceiling before I'm upright. I sit down again, the dread slowly crushing my thoughts. It can't be true, I can't be imprisoned!

NO! NO! NO!
I'm trapped!
I'm alone and I'm trapped!
What happened!
How did I get here!
And how do I get out!
Someone has to get me out!

I'm screaming now. I can't help it. I'm in a nightmare and I don't know how to wake up. I claw at the walls in a futile attempt to escape, but all I manage is to bloody my fingers. I stop and take a breath, to calm myself.

I need to figure things out.
To remember last night.
Was it last night?
I don't even know how long I've been here.
Jeremy and I were celebrating our six-month anniversary.
With champagne, in my apartment.
I was laughing and drinking.
Then... ? Wait, yes. I stumbled, fell and...
Jeremy was smiling?
Why was he smiling?
I think I passed out.
Why did I pass out after one drink?

"Hello, Anna."
"Jeremy?!" Relief floods through me. He found me; I'm getting out of here! "I'm here, Jeremy! Help me! Get me out of here!"
"Why would I do that? After all the trouble I went through to put you in there?"
"Wh-what?!" The awful realization finally sinks in to my foolish mind.
"I spent months constructing your little underground prison, planning how to get you inside. I took great care in getting it all right. I made certain the stone was thick enough, the hatch could be permanently sealed, that there was a wireless setup so we could talk this one last time. I'm so happy. Everything fell into place flawlessly."
"Why?! Why did you do this?!" I heard him laugh. A twisted version of the sound I used to love.
"For fun. I like doing this sort of thing. I like tormenting. I like killing." There was more laughter. "Good-bye, Anna, and enjoy your new home. For the rest of your very short life."
"No! You can't mean it! Jeremy! Jeremy, please! Please don't leave me here!" I wait for an answer, but there is only silence. "Jeremy! Please, please! Don't leave me here!" I pray he is still there, cling to hope he will let me out, strain my ears for any noise, but nothing. He is gone.

I'm going to die.
He locked me in a hole to die.
He buried me alive and I'm going to die!
I'm not getting out!
There is no way to get out!
Somebody help me!

All around me it is darkness, and it is so still, so quiet.
I start screaming again.

Copyright 2011 A. F. Stewart

Home for Christmas

I made a Christmas wish on a star last night.
This morning I woke and found her standing in the kitchen making breakfast; it was impossible, Kimberly died last year.
"Morning, Steve, I hope you're in the mood for bacon and scrambled eggs. Sit at the table, they're almost done."
I sat at the kitchen table in a daze, and she served me a plateful of hot food, just as if nothing had happened. Kimberly sat in a chair, staring at me from across the table.
"Aren't you going to eat?"
"No, I don't eat anymore, not since I was killed."
I nearly choked on my eggs. "You know you're dead?"
"Oh, yes. And to answer your other unspoken question, this is not a hallucination; it is very real."
"How? How are you sitting here, looking perfect after being dead for a year?"
"I'm not certain. Something about Christmas wishes and the alignment of stars; it was explained, but it was a bit technical and boring."
"It was explained? Who explained it?"
"These beings. They were in charge of where I went after I died."
"Beings? What were they, angels?"
I don't know, exactly. They had wings, so let's say they were angels."
Kimberly gave me an odd look, so I shut up about the subject and finished my breakfast.
"What do you remember about-about what happened? I mean, do you know why I made my wish?"
"Yes, I know. I remember the fight, Steve. I remember how you bashed me over the head."
I lowered my head, unable to look at her. "I didn't mean to, but you were leaving me, for him!" For Jim, her stupid fitness trainer, she had been cheating on me for months. "It didn't matter in the end, I lost you anyway. That's why I made the wish; I just wanted to be with you again. I wanted things to be the way they used to be." I reached across the table and took her hand. "And now they can."
"Yes, we will be together, forever. Just not the way you thought we would. I poisoned your breakfast, Steve. You are going to join me in death."
I could feel the searing pain in my stomach and I doubled over, falling to the floor. Kimberly sat calmly and watched my agony.
"Why? Why? Did you want revenge?"
"I was just granting your wish. You wanted to see me again, for the two of us to be together again. But I'm dead, Steve, and nothing can change that. The only way to be together is for you to die. Of course, I will enjoy watching you suffer. Then I'll take you back, where we'll suffer as one..."
She smiled; she had such a lovely smile. Maybe I was going to die, go to my damnation, but we would be together.

Oh well, no wish is foolproof.

Copyright 2010 A. F. Stewart

Death of a Furby

Dear Professor Jenson:

I killed my Furby. I didn't want to, but it was self-defence. Once it became possessed, it was either the fuzzy toy or me.
I didn't mean to raise a demon, and I certainly never wanted that annoying, furry toy to morph into a curse spitting, bloodthirsty hell spawn. I was just trying to finish the assignment for your Dark Spectral Magic class.
As you know, I was supposed to conjure a shadow hound and document the process; I tried to book a workroom at school, but they were all in use. In order to finish before the deadline I decided to work out of my dorm room. I swear I didn't think it would cause a potential disaster.
I set up my equipment and the spell-book; that yappy little Furby was sitting on my shelf, looking innocent. I hadn't even bought the thing; it was a joke Christmas gift from my girlfriend. I don't know where she got the stupid relic, but it never shuts up, constantly spewing its nonsensical noise. That's part of the reason I made the mistake.
It was just one word, one inane word. I was in the middle of the spell, and I accidentally repeated some silly phrase that daft Furby said. The minute the word left my lips, I knew I was in trouble. That infuriating piece of fluff was spouting Ancient Daemon! That was a shock to be sure; I didn't expect dark magic to be involved with a toy! (Although it does explain quite a bit about that particular toy).
As you might expect, uttering a word in Ancient Daemon transformed the whole spell. It opened a freaking portal to the underworld and drew a demon straight into my little furball. In a blink, that inanimate object twisted into a small, pointy-eared, fanged, slavering fiend.
The nasty little beast was fast, springing forward to clamp its teeth on my arm, trying to chew on my flesh. I screamed, (that thing had sharp teeth), but I still managed to zap it with a fire spell. It let go of my arm, but I think it liked being set on fire; it appeared to eat the flames!
That kind of freaked me. I don't really remember picking up the baseball bat, but I do remember beating the crap out of that possessed toy. By the time I was done, there was just an oozing pool of fur, guts and rather ominous dark blood spread over the floor (not to mention the sticky splatters over the walls and my clothes).
Now my assignment is ruined, my room is in shambles, and I'm here writing this letter.
I just want to know, is this incident going to influence my grade?

Sincerely,
Douglas Powers.

Copyright 2009 A. F. Stewart

The Elite of the Blood

It was night, and I was standing in the rain, the cold wet seeping into my skin and hair. I had closed my eyes, and I could hear the thrumming of the raindrops as they hit the ground. But it was a heartbeat I was trying to hear.
Ah, there it was, the faint thumping sound. I licked my lips; I had found my quarry. She had already been pursued for three city blocks, but now the search was nearing an end.
"She is close."
I let the words carry over my shoulder to the rest of my team.
I signaled, and we moved left and down the dark street. I had brought my five best men, all well trained. With practiced ease we assembled formation, and advanced on the hunted. I was on point, tracking, all my senses open.

I am of the Elite, and serve the Vampire Order. We have been the guardians over vampire kind for nearly two centuries. The Elite keep the secrets, and implement the edicts. We protect our kind, punish wayward individuals, and enforce our law.
And that law is simple. You hunt the invisible; the homeless, the drug addicts. Or you disguise the kill; a mugging gone wrong, a serial killer never caught.
But you don't publicize. Publicity brings the interest of the Hunters. The only humans who acknowledge the existence of vampires, and live to kill our kind.
So it is not wise to break our dictates. And yet, here we were tonight, tracking someone who had broken those rules.
It began a month ago, with the abduction of a child, a son of a banker. The story hit the media hard, all flash and tragedy. When the body was discovered bitten and drained of blood, it became an overblown sensation.
Vampire Killer. Those words blazed through the headlines, and were splashed about the news. Under pressure, the police launched a task force in response.
Experience has made many of the Order wary of scrutiny. Intelligent vampires went quietly underground to wait out the uproar. Others remained, obscure in the shadows.
Our Council, the governing body of the Order, was called on to act. So they sent the Elite to investigate the incident.
And that investigation had led my team here.

"She's ahead of us, a street over."
I could hear her breathing now, and I had her scent.
"She's slowing down. It is time to bring her to ground."
We moved in, swift shadows trailing through the night air.
Her track led through the falling rain straight to a dingy alley. Down we went, to the darkest corner, and there she crouched, waiting. Just a tiny speck of a girl, taking refuge among the empty boxes.
She looked up at me.
"You should have behaved yourself, Cecily."
"Not as much fun, Eleanor!"
She laughed, and suddenly altered from girl to vampire.
I tensed, but she did not move.
"Cecily Montrose, you stand accused of conspicuous abduction of mortals, endangering the existence of vampire kind by attracting a Hunter, and blatantly calling attention to your life as a vampire."
"Such nonsense, what silly rules." She smiled sweetly. "Why are you making such a fuss?"
I sighed.
"Will you come with us to face the Council, or will you try a foolish attempt at escape?"
Cecily rose quickly, standing defiant. For a moment, I thought the night might hold some action, but alas I was to be disappointed.
For she spoke.
"I surrender. I have done nothing wrong. I am a vampire, and have behaved as one."

She came with us quietly, and we escorted her downtown to where our Council was to convene a session and hold her trial. Cecily had caused quite a stir within the Order.
As was tradition she was taken to the room designated for the council and surrounded by a circle of Guards; we were all armed with swords. And here we waited for the arrival of the nine council members.
I indulged my curiosity.
"Why the child, why the high profile target? You had to know that abduction and killing would bring the Elite after you."
"Why not? Why should I be afraid? They are the ones who should be afraid. The mortals should breathe their fear of us, but they don't even know of our existence. It is not right."
I caught my breath. Those words sounded so very familiar, and they gave me shivers.
"Cecily, what have you done?"
But my question would go unanswered, as the doors swung open and the Nine filed into the room.
They settled into their seats, facing the accused, and the ring of guards parted. Lorenzo was chief arbitrator this night, so he was the one who rose to speak.
"You have been brought before us to face your crimes, Cecily Montrose," he began, and then his voice softened.
"I was there when you joined this Order to seek protection from the Hunters, Cecily. You showed much promise."
But his weakness was momentary, for the steel returned to his voice.
"You have constantly flaunted our rules, and more than once brought near disaster upon our door!"
"But this time," Lorenzo shook his head sadly, "you have caused grievous harm. All our kind are in hiding, and even this Council stands vulnerable. Do you realize that your actions brought a Hunter into the city?! Two vampires, Erin Delancy and Paul Corbeau, are dead by his hand! How do you defend your actions?"
"I don't defend them. There is nothing to defend. It is time we stopped running, and hiding. The day is coming, when vampires will reign and there will be no Hunters. We are superior, we should dominate!"
"Ah, a convert of Jacob." Lorenzo's voice sounded forlorn.
Jacob. Just as I feared. The Elite had been hunting him for two years. He wanted vampires to ascend over humans and rule. He endorsed open conflict with the Hunters, and considered humans as simply prey.
"I am proud to belong to Jacob."
Cecily's reply held a note of jubilation.
But it brought only anxious murmurs from the Council, and I could smell their fear.
Lorenzo continued. "You know there is a standing edict regarding all followers of Jacob? You are aware of it?"
Cecily nodded.
"Then there is no need for this trial. This Council will never support the ravings of that power mad fool."
"He is no fool! He is right! We must fight! We must be the dominant species!"
"Silence!"
Lorenzo's voice shook the walls.
"You, Cecily, have shown no remorse of your actions, which have endangered your fellow vampires. And worse you have joined the followers of Jacob, a vampire that would see us destroyed. All for his visions of ascendency!"
"We are at war with Jacob and his kind, and you Cecily, have become a casualty. Are we all agreed?"
There was a murmur of assent among all the members.
"Good. Then we sentence you to death Cecily Montrose. Eleanor, carry out the penalty!"
Those were the words I had been waiting for. Swifter than Cecily could fathom, I drew my sword, and had her head off in one clean stroke. It hit the floor one second before her body, blood spurting far and wide.
I watched her head bounce, then roll into a wall, as the Council and guards descended upon her pooling blood in a feeding frenzy. I contented myself with licking the blood off my sword. It was surprisingly sweet.
It was the end of this day's work, but I knew there would be more hunts, more killing of the lost. War with Jacob was coming. And soon.

Copyright 2007 A. F. Stewart

About the Author:

A. F. Stewart was born and raised in Nova Scotia, Canada, and still calls it home. She is fond of good books (especially science fiction/fantasy), action movies, and oil painting as a hobby.
Ms. Stewart has been writing for several years, her main focus being in the fantasy genre. She also has a great interest in history and mythology, often working those themes into her books and stories.
Her books can be found on Lulu.com, Smashwords and Amazon.