Darkness (Darkest Nightmares Book 1)
Apparently, I’m not the only one who doesn’t know their gift, or even what species they are. There’s an outrageous number of paranormals orphans that are put into situations like mine. Some even go most of their lives without knowing; others can’t say the same. In a way, I am blessed. I am thankful for the fact that my powers didn’t kick in before I found Sanctuary, that I wasn’t shocked with what I am. I mean...I was shocked, but it was a different kind of surprise. At least I had the option of learning about this realm of beautiful beasts that I never knew of before.
So, I’ve been here for years, working my life away. Don’t get me wrong, Sanctuary is a great place to work, but it’s a job. I’m a fucking barmaid for goodness sake.
Fern starts to sing, yet again for the tenth time tonight. “I swear to whatever fucking thing that’s up in the sky, if you don’t shut your yapper I’m gonna do it for you.”
She stares back at me with shock drawn across her face, and then starts to giggle. I’ve about had it with this bitch. “You’re in a mood tonight, aren’t you, Hav’?”
“I’m always in a mood,” I retort back, bumping my hip against hers.
Fern and I don’t have a normal friendship by any means. We’re friends because we need to be, because we’re new. We haven’t found our Voros. Once one finds their Voros, things change. It doesn’t mean a husband, wife, children, parents, or even siblings. Voros are your people - they do not have to be blood to be your kin. In a way, I guess Fern and I are like Voros. We are here for one another when we need to be, even though I can’t stand her half the time, I still love her in a way. Much like one would love a sister.
“Haven, get me a demon’s brew” I look to my left, peering over the bar and see Sampson, one of our normal patrons. He’s your average troll, big, bulky and mean but he’s a good tipper so I make sure to get his drink ready for him in a timely manner. The quicker he’s served, the faster I get my money.
Fern stands next to me grabbing a few empty glasses from the bar top and puts them in the bins below. I’ll end up grabbing a bin in a couple of minutes and take it to the back for the dishwashers to clean. “Is it me, or does that guy keep staring at me?”
I glance up and she grabs onto my elbow, tugging me. “Don’t look!”
“What the hell? You ask me if some dude is staring at you and then you don’t want me to look and see who it is? Where is he?” I snap back at her, rolling my eyes.
“In the blowie booth.” I laugh at her nickname for the booth we have that sits all the way in the back. It’s the closest to the kitchen and the most secluded. The only annoyance to those who sit there is the fact that they’re disturbed when we have to go into the kitchen to grab something. Otherwise, it is their own private oasis.
I sneak a glimpse up at the booth, locking eyes with a man whose face I haven’t been able to forget. I saw him the other night and still he pulls me towards him, as if we are both two magnets. Now, I’m not one of those dumb bitches who believe in love at first sight, but what I do believe in is lust at first sight, and...well, a few other things too. I can’t put my finger on it, but fuck...what is this guy’s deal.
“What are you doing? You’re staring at him!” Fern whisper-yells to me, I’m surprised I can even hear her over the crowd that we have in tonight.
“No duh,” I grumble back at her, not breaking eye contact from this mysterious man. I scan over his features, his athletic build. He isn’t too bulky, I hate those men who have muscles hanging off every inch of them. You know, the ones who look just like Sylvester Stallone. In our world your physique depends on what kind of paranormal you are. Especially if you are a shifter. Shifters are different, for example if you meet a bear shifter they’re always huge, muscle covering every inch of their body but if you meet a feline shifter they are thinner to help them with their attributes such as their quick speed.
I can barely make his eyes out from this distance, but what I can tell is that they are a shimmering greenish haze, almost as if gold is highlighting his irises. Out of all of the paranormals I serve in this bar, never have I seen one with these colored eyes. It makes me wonder what he is, and boy does my curiosity get the best of me.
“I’ll be right back,” I tell Fern, grabbing the bin of dirty glasses and mugs. I walk out from behind the bar, weaving in and out past the tables and deliver it to the boys back in the kitchen. When I make my way out there is only one place I want to be, and that’s right up and personal with Snake Eyes.
I strut right up to his booth and lean over the corner of the table, allowing him to get a great look at my full breasts. A gold chain around his neck shimmers in the light, before I even register what I’m doing my hand is around the bottom, feeling a design that I’ve never seen before.
“Most would be too afraid to come this close. How do you know I wouldn’t have killed you?”
“You want to do something to me alright, but it isn’t involving my death. You want to devour me, don’t you?” I redirect my eyes from his gold chain to his incinerating eyes.
His smirk is the only response I need to know I am one hundred percent correct.
Oh, how I’m going to have fun with this one.
Chapter 3
She wore her darkness like some girls wore a little black dress. -jw
Jett
The bar is packed tonight. I arrive early just to check on the little fairy. Nope, it has nothing to do with the other enticing barmaid. Lies. Lies. Lies, Darkness chants inside my mind. I don’t want to think about her. I don’t want to get to know her. I definitely don’t need the drama that follows women around in my life. I am perfectly content. I live my life with Darkness, the way things are destined to be.
I cloak myself in the shadows around the establishment and make my way to my usual table. It is my spot, veiled. Perfect to scope out the patrons for my meal of the night. Also, it gives me the best view of the main bar. The bar that my current obsession is serving drinks at. I can watch her everyday reactions with people. The way she communicates. The way she bites her lip when asked a question she doesn’t know the answer to, or the way she gets sassy and moves her hands around when she’s being disrespected or hit on by someone unwantedly. Like I said… current obsession. It pisses me off. I don’t want to notice these things… but I do. No matter how much I bitch about it I can’t help that I am examining everything about her, every reaction, attribute and characteristic.
I haven’t been back to the place in a few days. Both Darkness and I are confused but also drawn. I want to stay away as long as possible, but three days is as long as we could go. He is starting to get hungry again, and if he doesn’t feed regularly, I’d lose more of my humanity. That is the kicker of having another entity inside your body. It isn’t simple. Everything comes at a price. If I don’t treat Darkness as a part of myself; if I don’t feed him, he will take control, dragging me to the back recesses of our mind and I won’t be able to fight back.
I can’t fight back. I’ll be locked up, in a padded cell with no way to escape, no way to overthrow him. The first time it happened was over a century ago.
Remember the Titanic?
Yeah that was him. I was throwing a big pity party and tried to starve his demon ass out of me. It didn’t work so well on my part. He used what little magic he possessed throwing the boat off course, causing utter chaos.
Didn’t matter age, gender, race. He was ravenous. He put everyone to sleep, feasted, then tossed all those souls overboard. When he ate, no damage was done to a person physically, so no one found out the truth. They blamed it on a mechanical issue. During his rampage, he showed me all the horrors he caused with glee. I was disgusted. I knew it was my fault this happened, I was just so angry that this little deviant ended up inside of me and I had no way of controlling him or getting him out. I learned quickly that by feeding Darkness, it means that such a mass casualty will never happen again. There is no way I can tame the beast inside of me, but I can barter with him… curbing the hunger j
ust enough to where he won’t be uncontrollable again.
The world was not as advanced back then as it is now. Things could have been so much worse for the both of us. There were no cameras or cell phones to take pictures. For that, I am grateful.
No one wants him free, trust me. He’d be free to cause terror, havoc and destruction to anyone and anywhere he sees fit. That is why we’ve come to an understanding. I feed him and let him out when he’s hungry, and he lets me do whatever I want to do, on a daily basis.
The only problem is: he won’t let me get laid. Ever. Since we have become one, we have been celibate. That was so long ago, I stopped counting the centuries as they passed. He finds some reason for disliking every girl that crosses our path. They have fake nails, their hair smells too much of chemicals, they are anorexic, they smell of smoke, too much liquor in their systems, they have too much silicon. Always excuses with him.
I’m torn away from my thoughts as I see a certain barmaid strutting her stuff my way. She leans over the table, putting her perfect fucking rack on full display for me to see. There’s one patch of skin that I can see untouched by the ink that covers every other inch of her body. I catch myself staring at her breasts and then notice her hand on my chain, a necklace that means more to me than anyone will ever know.
“Most would be too afraid to come this close. How do you know I wouldn’t have killed you?”
“You want to do something to me alright, but it isn’t involving my death. You want to devour me, don’t you?” she retorts, exuberating lust through that fire filled tone of hers.
She has no idea just how much I want her, only it’s not just me who wants her. Darkness is telling me he craves her as well. Who exactly is this girl and why does Darkness only show his interest in her, and not others?
What is so special about this one?
“You don’t want to know, Fira.” I call her a nickname from hundreds of years ago. The name means fire, and this girl is just that - full of fire.
“That’s where you’re wrong, babycakes. I do want to know. In fact, I want to know quite a bit.” Did she seriously just call me babycakes?
Kiss her, I hear Darkness speaking to me. Pull closer, we like her. She special, not like others.
I assess her, starting at the white silvery shine of her hair, to that one black streak that comes through it, down to the tattoos that start at the top of her neck. My eyes follow the ink down her body, wondering just how much it covers. They aren’t bold or filled with color. They are black and every single one of them is shaded. Beautiful, yet dark.
Her ice grey eyes stare back at me, I catch her tongue slide over her bottom lip right before she speaks. “Getting a good look at my rack, are ya?”
“That wasn’t what I was doing,” I tell her. If she only knew exactly what I was thinking.
She slides her hands towards me on top of the table, violating my personal space, lifting herself up to where she’s seated on the table in front of me. Darkness can’t help but roll around in happiness, I can hear his hunger, but this isn’t the normal type of hunger he craves. This is all sexual energy. I can’t blame him, I feel it just as much as he does.
There is an undeniable pull between us, one that I normally wouldn’t give the time of day to. She is different though. Ever since Darkness busted into my life, I haven’t been intimate with a woman. Hundreds of years have passed, and not once did I feel as I do in this moment. It is worth exploring. There must be some reason that we both crave her, but what is it?
“You were ogling over my body like I’m some rare form of dessert. What do you like to eat? blood? souls? Or...?” She spreads her legs in front of me, dragging her hand against her heat. “...Is it cream and I’m not talking about the kind from your momma’s banana pudding pie?”
She did not just say banana pudding pie. What in the ever-loving hell is that? That sounds atrocious. And my mother has been dead for centuries. How young does this girl think I am?
“Uh, no.” I cough to clear my throat, unsure of what to say.
“You look awfully human to be in here. I know! You’re an incubus or some shit! You look like a man who enjoys the dark and twisted...does that apply in the bedroom?” She adds a wink on along the end, making my cock jump to life. What the fuck is going on? Does she feel it too? It’s taking everything in me not to grab her by the throat, rip off her pathetic clothes and fuck her the way that Darkness and I want to.
Darkness has shown me all the ways he wants to take her, and I’m not far behind on that front. For once, he and I are on the same page.
“You seem to have me all figured out, when you don’t even know my name.”
“Sometimes we don’t need to know one another’s name to know who they are, but in case you were wondering, I’m Haven.” Darkness is speaking to me at the exact same time, telling me how she hasn’t gone through her awakening - the point in a supernatural’s life where their abilities, or powers manifest. Some are lucky and experience them as they grow up, but some are not and have to wait until their twenty-fifth birthday to experience anything at all. I can’t help but wonder exactly how old she is.
“Haven!” She turns her face back towards the bar, looking at the other barmaid.
“I’m up, buttercup, don’t go run off now. We’re far from finished.” She starts to slide off the table, but I grab her arm, forcing her to turn back and look at me.
“How about you get me something sweet and creamy while I wait?” I rake my eyes over her, setting my gaze on her center.
A wink is all I get in response. Something tells me that she’s right. We’re far from being finished.
Chapter 4
I am the designer of my own catastrophy. -Anonymous
Haven
“What in the heck just happened to you? Do you even know what you looked like? Oh, my goodness! You were like a total nymph!”
“Oh no, Mother Teresa. How will I ever maintain my virtue?” I ask her in a singing voice, trying to imitate her all the while rolling my eyes. Does she think I don’t know how I looked? What in the fuck came over me?
“Haven, can you be serious for one second?” She takes an empty glass that’s sitting in front of her and places it in the bin below the bar.
“Uh. Have you met me? No.”
“No, but really...do...I mean...that isn’t your normal behavior. Do you even know who he is?”
“...No, do you?” I ask, wondering why the hell she hasn’t said anything to me in the first place?
“...Well, no...but he just gives me bad vibes. I mean, look at him! He looks all creepy and stuff.”
“Do you realize how stupid you sound? We’re fucking paranormal. Supernatural motherfuckers, OKAY! We’re all creepy and stuff! Except you, Miss Ray-of-fucking-sunshine.”
“Haven, you don’t have to be so mean to me.” I swear to whatever deity that is up in the sky, if this bitch pouts, I will give her a reason to.
“No, but I enjoy it, so fuck off.”
“You know, this is exactly why you have no friends! In fact, I am your only one!”
“I decide when I want you to be my friend. Today is not that day.”
“...You are wretched. You know that?” Fern mumbles to me, tears welling behind her eyes.
“Bitch, what are you doing? I’m trying not to laugh right now and you’re over here like you just watched that human sapball of a movie, The Notebook. Did I suddenly forget that we were in love for forty years?”
“I’m your friend, why are you treating me like this?”
“Look, I said not today. Maybe tomorrow. Besides, this will show you that you can’t be all rainbows and butterflies all the time, Fern. We all have to toughen up sometime.”
“Well we all can’t be Miss Fuck-the-world Haven like you! Some of us can’t help our true nature and have to be nice. I’m a light fae, do you even know what that means...oh wait, you wouldn’t because you were an orphan. You were raised by humans.” Fawn grabs a bin and struts off li
ke she’s a raging inferno. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her so upset.
“Lose the attitude while you’re back there. It doesn’t suit you very well!”
What Fern doesn’t realize is that what she said to me, about being an orphan…it stung. It stings more than anything she’s ever said to me because she is the only one who knows about my past. Everything about my past. I may give her a hard time, and I’ll probably continue fucking with her because let’s be real - it’s entertaining as fuck. Plus, it makes me feel better. But, she is my friend… even though I never really wanted it in the first place. She kind of just weaved her way into my cold dead heart. Out of anything that Fern would’ve done, I never expected her to throw my loveless childhood in my face like that.
***
I’m kneeling in the middle of the aisle, head down, arms in front of my chest praying. All of us girls have been here for many hours, begging Jesus and God for forgiveness. Forgiveness for what? I do not know.
We were never allowed up in the main part of the church. We were to keep out of sight. So here we are kneeling on the rough, hard cement floor of the basement.
We kneel for so long that our knees bruise over. If we move, we’d get hit with a switch. It wasn’t your usual switch, no. Normal switches were made by some sort of a branch from a tree. That pain would be tolerable.
The switches the nun’s used here were metal. So, when hit by one, it would cut deep into the flesh, taking weeks to heal. Many of us have scars that cover our body; most of them being inflicted by this device.
These scars were given to us from our disobedience, sin, and disrespect. Not one of us was left untouched. There was always a reason to get punished here. They claim that beatings would help us in the real world and it show us right from wrong.
I honestly believed that these people were just sadists, getting a thrill by abusing someone smaller than themselves.