Darkness Becoming: Chapter One

Decreed by an ancient prophecy, a group of women, known as The Destined, are fated to come together to combat a hell god who threatens the Earth.

He should have been back by now. 

The words echoed uncomfortably in Desdemona Jaren's mind. They drowned out the merry banter of her two companions as they stood beside her in the vestibule of Mama Luigi's Italian Restaurant. She looked through the rain splattered window into the greyish-black night of New Eden City, trying to control her growing unease.

It had been raining for the past few days and the clouds seemed to have no intention of stopping. The city was waterlogged and shiny wet, providing a tempting incentive for people to stay indoors. The streets were deserted and she prayed she would see the darkness cut by a swath of headlights. She pulled her phone out of her tiny purse to check the time. He'd been gone almost twenty minutes already. Something isn't right.

"Des, don't you think Chase should have been back already? I mean, we only parked about five minutes away," said her best friend Mara, breathing life into the thoughts that were bouncing around in Des's head.

Garrett, Mara's boyfriend, looked at his watch. He wrinkled his brow, a move he did so frequently, that Des was surprised it wasn't already permanently etched there. "Yeah, he should have been back. I wonder what's keeping him."

Des punched the speed dial button on her cell phone to call Chase. It rang several times and went to voicemail. She ended the call without leaving a message and went back to monitoring the activity on the vacant street.

She peered through the window, looking as far up and down the road as she possibly could. Impulsively, she pushed the door open and stepped outside. The July humidity surrounded her like a suffocating blanket. Immediately, large raindrops made polka dotted patterns across her blouse, rendering Chase's act, completely moot. He'd be mildly annoyed that his sacrifice would be for nothing. But right now, as far as she was concerned, Des’s worry trumped his anticipated annoyance. Mara and Garrett followed her through the restaurant door and met with a similar, polka dotted fate.

“Something’s happened,” she stated. She was fighting to keep the panic at bay. Even though she had no real reason for the way she was feeling, the horribleness sat inside her like a stomach-flu induced knot. Something bad had happened.

“He’s fine,” Garrett offered, reassuringly. “Let’s start walking towards where we were parked. We’ll meet up with him as he drives by. We’re already wet. Might as well.”

Des turned and walked briskly down the street with Mara and Garrett behind her, tightly snuggled together and walking the slow, staggered walk of the mildly tipsy. The distance between them quickly grew, as Des hurried anxiously ahead. She stopped suddenly, looking in front of her and then to the side. Mara and Garrett caught up to her.

“What if he took the short cut back to the parking garage instead of keeping to the road?” Des wondered out loud. She didn’t bother to wait for an answer from her friends. “Mara, you and I’ll take the short cut. Garrett, walk along the road and watch out for him. If you find him, just have him double back and pick us up at the parking garage.”

“I don’t like the idea of the two of you on your own. It’s nighttime and it’s not exactly safe,” Garrett said, protectively.

“That’s why Mara and I will go together. We have to cover both routes so we don’t miss him if he comes along. It’s the best arrangement we have to find Chase quickly,” she said, urgently. The feeling in her stomach was getting worse.

“I don’t know…”

“Garrett, there’s no time to argue. Come on.” Des grabbed Mara by the hand, yanking her away from Garrett and off towards the alley. She glanced back to make sure Garrett was following her orders. She noted with satisfaction that he was already down the street.

Des half-dragged Mara down the alleyway and turned the corner. In front of them was a startling display. They paused briefly, attempting to make sense of the scene in front of them. A dark figure hovered over another, crumpled figure dressed in Chase’s smartly tailored pants and ocean blue dress shirt. The head of the crumpled figure was cocked awkwardly to the side, while the dark figure’s head bobbed up and down, ever so slightly over top of it.

“Hey! Hey, you! What’s going on there?” Des yelled, as she dropped Mara’s hand and started running towards the unnatural tableau in front of her. Suddenly, she froze, as white-hot terror coursed through her body.

The dark figure lifted its hood-covered head. Instantaneously, there was an incomprehensible mishmash of horror. Pale, sallow, almost luminescent, ghostly skin. Sunken cheek bones on a disfigured face. Red, glowing eyes that intensified in the panic of being caught. Sharp, pointed teeth. And blood. Blood dripping from pointed teeth. Blood gushing from the neck of the crumpled figure. It spilled onto the crumpled figure’s clothes, the path distorted by small rivers born of the falling rain.

The crumpled figure was falling. By the time it hit the pavement, it was the only one remaining in the grotesque scene. Des snapped out of her terror and ran over. She quickly kneeled down beside the crumpled figure and gently turned it over. It was Chase.

“Dear God, no,” Des breathed. There were two puncture wounds on the side of Chase’s neck, where blood was gurgling out. With barely a thought, she ripped off her blouse and pressed it firmly to the side of his neck, trying to keep the blood from leaking out of his body.

“Oh my god, what is going on?” Mara shrieked. “What was that thing?” Mara was rooted to the spot, throwing a hysterical fit.

“Mara! Stop freaking out! I need you to call 911,” Des commanded. She tried her best to twist around to look at her best friend, while keeping pressure on Chase’s wound.

Mara made no movement towards getting her phone. She stood mumbling in disbelief. “Oh, dear God, what was that thing?”

“Mara! Please, we can’t freak out right now. Call 911. He’s hurt badly,” Des begged her friend.

Mara obediently pulled her cell phone out of her purse and dialed the numbers with shaky hands. The phone wasn’t connecting. She tried dialing again, her hands becoming increasingly unsteady. “It’s not going through! I can’t get a signal,” she wailed.

"You have to run back to the street and get help,” Des instructed as calmly as she possibly could. She looked down at her blood soaked blouse against Chase’s neck. His face was devoid of color. She swallowed to keep the tears back, otherwise, she would never get the words out. “Please Mara, you have to go quickly. He’s dying.”

Des’s words snapped her out of the hysteria. Mara turned and ran as fast as she could down the alleyway. Des watched until she turned the corner leading back to the main street. When she could no longer see her, she turned back to assess Chase's condition. She kept one hand firmly pressed against the wound and picked his wrist up in her other hand. She felt around for his pulse. She couldn’t find one. Stay calm, she told herself and kept moving her fingers on his wrist, searching. She felt something. She pressed a little harder on the spot. There it was. A pulse. Faint, but still there.

“Please, Chase. Please hang on. Help is on the way. Just stay with me until it comes. Please Chase, stay with me,” she begged.

She couldn’t help the tears, which blurred her eyes and mixed with the streaming rain. She took a deep breath. She didn’t have the luxury of losing control right now. Chase needed her. She had to follow her own words and stay strong.

Chase stirred and let out a soft moan. His eyes opened slightly. “Des?” he whispered.

“I’m here. I’m right here, Chase. I’m not leaving you.”

“I " I’m sorry,” Chase said, as he struggled to catch his breath. “I wanted…” Another struggle. “I love you.” He closed his eyes.

“Chase, I "

The only thing Desdemona Jaren knew after that, was darkness.