The Glass Dagger (Afterlife Chronicles Book 1)

  “Eh?” she said not getting it until Theo leaned in closer and said,

  “I think this is the point where you scream.” So, she rolled her eyes and kind of yelped, this time making Zane roll his eyes before shooting her a scathing look.

  “Really?” Zane said making her shrug her shoulders.

  “What, I suck at ‘I’m the whole helpless girl’ crap okay!” she snapped. Zane looked to Theo and he held up his arms and said,

  “Don’t look at me dude, I suck at it as well.”

  “Amateurs,” Zane muttered before swearing at the sight of Ivan’s fingers nearly slipping.

  “Come on Dude, work with me here, you gotta just believe it! You’re King Kong! Now just reach up and jump over…come on I know you can do it!”

  “I…I…not do it,” Ivan said with his voice shaking under the strain of fear. Zane closed his eyes feeling the bitter sting of defeat, knowing that there was only one place left for him to go and that was down. Of course, falling was only ever going to increase his fear and he knew what that felt like and didn’t want it for his friend…not like last time.

  A painfully memory flashed in his mind of the face of someone he cared deeply for and the last time he saw those eyes asking him why. He tried to save them but had failed and right now that sinking feeling that lingered deep within his soul was clawing its way back to the surface. He was so close to admitting defeat when something magical happened…

  An almighty, ear shattering scream erupted behind them all and time stood still for everyone but Ivan. The second he heard that sound coming from someone he had already started to feel close to, he felt something inside of him snap into place. The scream was quickly followed by a blood curdling roar that sounded like it had come from the very depths of Hell, as a demonic beast was being let loose on Earth in the form of one large Russian boy. He was quickly up and over the railings before his mind even registered the action and he quickly stood as protector over the one the scream had originated from.

  They all turned to see the big guy stood in front of the person responsible for such dramatic actions and one look to see Ena looking just as confused as Theo and Zane, quickly told them that it didn’t come from her as they had first thought.

  “Are alright you be?” Ivan asked so softly it was surprising that it came from someone so large and only seconds ago, someone who had sounded so scary.

  “Yes, thank you… my King Kong,” Janie said adding the cute pet name and looking up at him as though he was her true-life hero. He nodded once and stepped aside for the rest of them to see her stood there looking suddenly bashful.

  “Now that was what I call a scream!” Zane said beaming at her and now making her blush.

  “Yeah, I will say! That was brilliant, Jay!” Ena also praised giving her a high five and this time adding a smile to those rosy cheeks. Zane walked over to Ivan, slapped him on the back and said,

  “See…totally King Kong my man!” Suddenly Janie wasn’t the only one blushing as Ivan’s face started feeling warm. Zane and Ena walked back along the corridor to continue what they were doing before Ivan turned all ape on them, leaving Theo and Janie stood there alone as Ivan had followed the others. Theo looked down below at the ‘landing pad’ Janie had created just in case and watching her struggle with all those large cushions one handed hadn’t been easy for Theo but she had done it.

  “Silly I know but…” she started to say, doubting if it would have worked or not but Theo quickly interrupted her and said,

  “It was brilliant.” Then he gave her shoulder a squeeze as he walked past, leaving her stood there biting her lip and feeling for the first time in her life, as though maybe she wasn’t…

  Useless.

  16

  Dreams Come True for

  Stolen Souls

  “Well it’s gotta be said, but in my book, that crazy little green haired chick is right up there with Gandhi,” Zane said after being gobsmacked opening the door to his new room.

  “Enjoy Zee, I am gonna check out mine,” Theo said christening Zane with his new nickname before going in search of his own idea of heaven.

  “Uh, uh,” Zane said for once being lost for words the further inside the room he walked. It was like Theo had said only this was Zane’s own version of heaven. It was easy to guess that Zane was an artist but how Pip had known was a mystery to him. However, one look at the room and it was clear that she knew him better than anyone else in the world did.

  The room was huge, with tall ceilings and a north facing wall made of glass, flooding the room with light, but as any artist would prefer, not direct sunlight. The room was split into sections and one looked more like an artist’s studio than a teenager’s bedroom.

  There was a whole wall dedicated to art supplies and every tool of the trade. Old crates turned on their sides built up a quirky shelving unit that was filled with everything from glass jars filled with different colour powder paints to metal tins of Turpentine, vases filled with every size paint brushes like an artist’s bouquets of flowers and of course, tubs and tubs of paint.

  Then there was a whole other section of stuff hanging from hundreds of hooks on the wall that held larger brushes and tubes of paint held there by bull clips, which any artist would tell you is the easiest way to get all the paint from your tube as well as a nifty way to hang them up.

  Zane’s eyes nearly popped out of his head when he started reading names like Michael Harding, Schmincke and Daler Rowney Georgian, along with some of the oldest suppliers like Old Holland and Winsor and Newton.

  There were shelves up to the ceiling filled with stuff, like Montana’s spray can selection in every colour he could dream of and canvases in every size just begging to be painted. The shelves were so high that the only way to reach most of the stuff was via the industrial looking metal ladder hung on runners above.

  In the corner of the room was a circular desk that filled the space like a wave of colour thanks to even more supplies, in the way of pencils, pastels, pens and charcoal sets, all spread out in their own wooden display cases. Paper in every size and grade lay piled high like white skyscrapers and above were wooden squares hanging down which were covered in empty pegs awaiting artwork. They almost looked like crude chandeliers without the lights and Zane smiled, knowing that he had once made something simpler in woodwork to dry his pieces without fear of damage.

  He couldn’t believe the level of thought that Pip must have had when picking all this stuff as it was the best of the best in art supplies. He couldn’t even do the maths in his head when he tried to imagine how much this stuff must have cost them. He had only ever seen a room like this in his dreams of maybe winning the lottery or better yet, making it big with his art one day.

  But it wasn’t just the endless amount of art supplies or even the high-tech gear that sat on his new desk just begging to be played with. It wasn’t the easels, the canvases, the hundreds of artist’s pens, the watercolours, the oils, the acrylics and every type of brush known to man. No, none of this meant more to him than the bare wall that held one single piece of art.

  The wall was like a giant blank canvas to display his work and at its centre it held two simple words spray painted on a jagged piece of driftwood and now it was one sign that summed up his new life…

  ‘Art immortalised’

  “Wow, I can see why you screamed,” Janie said after Ena dragged her into her new room.

  “Isn’t it fabulous!” she said referring to what she thought was the most perfect space she could have ever imagined. It was girly but in a subtle way, without being childish. Full of soft pastel colours and delicate swirl designs on the scattering of rugs and matching cushions on cute quirky little chairs. One looked like a giant egg that hung from the ceiling and was lined with white fake fur. Another one was a Chesterfield wingback chair that was covered in a patchwork design, one made up of the cutest pieces of fabric so that it looked far too expensive to even sit on.

  Then there was nearly ev
ery girl’s dream as one whole corner of the room held nothing but make-up and every type of beauty product known to a woman. It was all arranged in a way where even the makeup filled jars, pots and display cases looked pretty, matching the décor of the rest of the room. A huge mirror framed in lights hung above the vanity that was any make-up artist’s dream, with its sleek slide away compartments that each held every shade of lipstick, to a rainbow colour of eyeshadows. Next to this space was a beautiful canvas with more of her favourite flowers, waterlilies and the words written in white…

  ‘Be your own kind of Beautiful.’

  What Ena was yet to discover was the hidden switch under the vanity that revealed a doorway into her own walk-in wardrobe, complete and fully loaded with her favourite designer clothes, handbags, shoes and too many accessories to mention.

  It was true that Ena loved fashion but it wasn’t just about following a trend for Ena as more about the opportunity it granted the individual to fully express themselves to the world. It was like waking up in the morning and not feeling whole until you put on your armour to face the world.

  This was Ena’s escape from what she knew could be a hard, cruel world, especially for an orphan who grew up knowing that she had been given away to face a life alone.

  So Ena had created another version of herself as a way of protecting her fragile soul. She would wear her new skin like stepping out onto the stage every day, playing the part of a hard ass. She didn’t make friends. She didn’t cry. She didn’t grant smiles like throwaway gifts. She didn’t hug or speak of her inner thoughts. She didn’t do gushy feelings or swapping ‘woe is me’ life stories. And she never let anyone into her personal space allowing just a glimpse of the real her…until now…

  Until Janie and the guys.

  So, what it was about the others that made her feel different, she didn’t yet know but for the first time she felt like she was shedding her fake skin. Like it was slowly being peeled away by them, leaving something beautiful underneath and to go with this new her, was her new perfect space…a space she finally wanted to share.

  “It’s so you,” Janie said, for some reason knowing this like it was a fact, not the guess that it could only ever have been. Ena looked back at her with shock on her face and for a moment Janie thought she had upset her by what sounded like an assumption, one she knew deep down that it wasn’t.

  “It is and it’s my dream,” Ena admitted freely, smiling so big it almost felt like her face would crack from happiness. Janie smiled back at her and then did something so out of character she could barely believe what came over her, so lost in a moment that she had been dreaming about herself…having a friend.

  Janie nodded to the huge bed behind her, which had an ornate carved headboard that was painted pearly white and decorated with cute fairy lights. Even the bedding matched the colour of the lights with its large pink waterlily at the bottom that evaporated, transforming into hundreds of tiny butterflies.

  Ena looked back and smirked, knowing what she was silently thinking, so instead of saying a word, she just nodded, giving Janie the go ahead. Then they both did something they had never done but always wanted to do with a friend. They ran for the bed and both fell back on it like angels with their wings out feeling for the first time on top of the world and remembering this day forever as not the day they died, but the day they were both reborn.

  “Come on, let’s go check out your room,” Ena suggested nudging Janie after they’d had their fun.

  “You know that’s the best thing I’ve heard all day,” Janie said laughing. Ena laughed as well and replied,

  “And here was me thinking it was the roar of King Kong just before he leapt to save you.” Then she winked making Janie blush an unhealthy shade of crimson.

  “Anyway, I wonder what his room is like?” she asked Janie as she scooted off the bed. Janie follow and muttered,

  “Yeah, I wonder too.”

  Ivan shook his head, rubbing the back of his neck with what he knew was a massive hand. He couldn’t help the way he looked and often wondered what it would feel like for just one day to look like one of the other guys.

  He hated what his size had offered him in his short lifetime and the violence he had been forced to inflict upon others. He shuddered just thinking about it and looked back over his shoulder at the others as they disappeared into their rooms. They must never know…no one must ever know the things he’d done.

  He still didn’t fully understand what he had become but he knew one thing for sure and that was this was his one chance at a new life and he wasn’t doing anything to jeopardise that. He would be taking his inner demons with him into Hell if that was where he needed to go but never again would he let them loose upon the world.

  No, he would need to learn how to control it and hide that part of himself away forever. He didn’t care what the headmaster expected of him, he knew he would never be able to give him what they wanted. Because his demons had been inside him for a lot longer than when he first stepped on that Godforsaken bus, that was for damn sure.

  Hell, he felt as though he had been fighting them since the day he was born and today was no different. No, if anything it just gave a demonic face to the beast inside of him, one he had been trying to keep caged for seventeen years. Growing up in the orphanage had almost been as bad as his time on the back streets of Moscow and he would have said he had the scars to show for it but Ivan never scarred. No matter how many times he got hit whether by something blunt, sharp or pointed, it didn’t matter as he felt the pain but the scars only ever remained immortalised on his damaged soul not his outer shell.

  But no, the others can never know. He said this again to himself over and over because for the first time in his life he felt as if he had a chance. A real chance at a family and people who cared about him. The way they had included him because they wanted to and not because of his size and what they could gain from having him at their backs. The way they explained things to him that he didn’t understand thanks to the language barrier. In fact, if it hadn’t been for his unfortunate connections with the Bratva, the Russian mob, and his keeper’s love of American sports, then he probably wouldn’t know a word of English. Thankfully it was where his passion for basketball was born and his only pleasure in life.

  Speaking of which, he opened his door wondering what was waiting for him behind it, hoping it was better than the damp broken bunk he had been used to…

  He wasn’t disappointed.

  In fact, he was so overwhelmed by it all that he only managed to take a few steps before he fell to his knees, thanking any God he thought had forsaken his dammed soul. It was his dream room and everywhere he looked there was some reference to the game he loved so much. There were basketball shaped chairs, there was a row of metal locker room wardrobes, there was even a mini version of a basketball court on the floor.

  Everywhere he looked there was something he would have sold his soul for and now the ironic thing was that his soul had been taken against his will and granted him all his dreams without him even asking for them.

  Something in one corner caught Ivan’s eye and he scrambled to his feet, cursing his size for taking longer to move than he wanted. He ran over to the farthest wall and nearly wept for joy when he saw all the signed pictures of his all-time favourite players. There were the greats like Bill Russell who played for the Boston Celtics, Magic Johnson who played for the Lakers, along with Kareem Abdul-Jabbar, Shaquille O'Neal and Wilt Chamberlain who were other Lakers’ legends, which also just so happened to be Ivan’s favourite team.

  But then in the centre was by far the world’s best player even to this date, basketball God, Michael Jordan. He might have played for the Chicago Bulls but Ivan didn’t care. He thought the man flawless in the game and looked up to him as an idol.

  His assigned Bratva mentor had talked about basketball none stop and watched reruns of all the best games, so naturally Ivan had picked it up and fell in love with his only shred of normality.
So, seeing all those autographs hanging on his wall was beyond a dream come true, it was unbelievable.

  The rest of his room was spread out into different sections. There was a lounge area that had huge basketball beanbags that even he would look small in. In front of this was the biggest flat screen TV he had ever seen hung on the wall and under this was the latest games’ console, complete with games and DVDs all tucked away neatly in a custom-built entertainment system.

  Next to this was a NBA arcade basketball game, where you won tickets for every shot you made through the hoop. He couldn’t wait to start playing this but first he wanted to check out the rest of his room. He turned around and saw what looked like the coolest bed he had ever seen on the opposite side of the room. It was round and it too looked like a giant basketball, one that was big enough for him to sleep in with room to spare. He had never slept on a bed big enough for him before, so he was looking forward to trying it out later and seeing what a good night’s sleep would finally feel like.

  He sat on the edge of the bed before falling back, proving that the bed could take his weight and when he didn’t hear it creak or groan under the strain, he smiled and thought one single happy thought…

  Oh yes, he was home.

  17

  ‘Underwood’

  Theo had left Zane to drool over his new room, whilst he went in search of his own. It didn’t take him long to find it as each of the doors had their own names on them in a style that suited their individual personalities. Zane’s had been written in graffiti, representing the artist in him, whilst Theo’s name had been written in a heavy metal band style, representing his love for music.