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Haunting Darkness

Copyright 2010 by Jordan Wadley, LLC, Inc. All rights reserved. Except as permitted under the U.S. Copyright Act of 1976, no part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, or stored in a database or retrieval system, without the prior written permission of the publisher.

 

The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the authors. To the extent any real names of individuals, locations, or organizations are included in the book, they are used fictitiously and not intended to be taken otherwise.

 

The content of this book belongs to the author as of September 18th, 2013. Any recommended ideas are to be taken up privately with the author, Jordan Marie Wadley.

 

Please vote for my book and comment any ideas you beleive would work well with my book, Haunting Darkness. I appreciate your cooperation.

 

FearlessAngel101~

Prologue

~ We can easily forgive a child that is afraid of the dark; the real tragedy in life is when man is afraid of light ~

 

 

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PROLOGUE

 

I stood rather peacefully as I stood over the darkening city beneath me. It was rare, in most cases, to capture such a moment, such beauty. The top of the buildings were rather clean considering the amount of bird waste that lay splattered across the cement. The dark alleys that surrounded me gave me a peaceful tranquility, the shadows smiling wickedly up at me.

 

Ignoring the wailing sirens in the distance and the bumping of the music further down the alley, I focused solely on the man beneath me. He walked with cautious steps feeling as though someone was watching him.

 

I studied him for a moment, though I'd been watching him for hours now. I knew the trouble he regularly got himself into, yet he held no amount of power over any other drug dealer I frequently crossed paths with.

 

However, judgment wasn't one of my aspects. Though so young, he had corrupted the entire town with his lies. Dealing drugs and lurking through alleys seemed nothing out of the usual with the people he included himself with.

 

I had searched his files, remembering the information front and back without batting a lash. Though a large town druggie, he'd only been accused of grand theft auto twice with a warrant he'd long since parted from. He had little to no knowledge in the medical field and armory was only to be handled by his closest recruits. His loving girlfriend, Anna Marie Mickler, had no idea of his secret life as a street racer and a killer. He lived in a beat up apartment quiet as to not capture unwanted attention while the girl lived in a large house two towns away. He tried to ensure her safety; little did he know she was already dead.

 

I felt no regret when the snap of her neck vibrated through my strong feminine fingers.

 

His mother, Donna Marian Flison, died from lung cancer at age 28. His father an abusive alcoholic. Though an only child, his younger sister supposedly died with a gunshot to the stomach, he was mature for his age.

 

And though many of his gang members were terrified of the young man, he'd never killed anyone himself. Don't let him fool you though; he's watched his closest friends die at his word without regret. Never laying a finger on any weapon, he'd been the cause of many grieving family members and deaths.

 

I didn't care who he killed and nor did it matter how many lives he's taken, which in fact adds up to 58 tonight, I was focused purposely on the goal in front of me.

 

I listened intently to the noises around me with my eyes still implanted on the male. A memory flashed by my eyes, blue eyes gleaming down on me with pride. I knew instinctively who it was, yet paid no mind to the memory I no longer held to my heart. It was like watching a movie, one in which I'd been the main character of, flash before my eyes.

 

The scenes didn't matter anymore seeing as I was no longer that person anymore. I was something evil and sinister; Satan himself would cower in fear at the mention of my name.

 

I jumped from the roof in a rush, landing no more than fifteen foot away on a rusty ladder. Almost instantly after my foot comes in contact with the ladder, I leap across the ally and land on the neighboring building. The ledge holding my light weight made no complain, that was until I leapt further down the building onto another ledge. I merely caught the ledge with the tips of my fingers, yet my weight took the hard impact of the crash against the cold brick wall.

 

The man beneath me, now only thirty feet down, stopped as he heard the noise I'd made and looked behind him. His face gave nothing away yet the fear of being watched evident in his young yet mature eyes. It was obvious he'd lacked experience in the training mechanism considering he'd failed to look above. This will cost his life.

With one powerful push off of my left foot I managed to land on the ledge across from me making no sound. Bei

ng trained day and night from age five gave me this benefit. Flashes of the torture I'd endured every day reminded me of the monster I'd been turned into, the whip becoming a part of me.

 

When I was little the memories may've sent a painful jab to the heart like a viper wrapping around my heart. Yet as the torture grew harsher and the days grew longer I'd learned to keep my emotions at bay. I felt no more emotion when Razel yelled harshly in my face for my failures in life. I felt nothing in my cold heart when I lie in my cell at night and watch the memories of a younger me. Guilt was no longer a problem when I killed another of Razel's enemies. Fire replaced every painful jab to the heart, every guilt for the grieving I'd caused and every tear. I hadn't felt any emotion other than anger and plain emptiness since I turned fourteen.

 

I am simply a shell; empty and used. Some would be offended by this yet I felt nothing, I felt no bitterness or sadness. Feeling nothing is better than feeling everything.

 

I pounced down from the building one last time, my feet landing gracefully on the asphalt behind the tall figure. He stood at almost eight feet; the jacket he wore didn't hide his bulging muscles when he turned to face me.

 

He wore his emotions freely while my face remained void of all emotion. He didn't seem to register the fact that there was, in fact, someone standing before him until his eyes adjusted to the dark. The emotionless face replaced by fear and shock.

 

"Walter Marone Grayson, you were summoned by Razel Daniels and have refused his offer. I have been sent to kill you." That was what I was trained to do, no small talk, no names, simply the reason for your appearance. It didn't matter who you were, everyone received the same treatment.

 

He stared at me slack jawed before finally speaking, the sob almost breaking through.

 

"How is this possible, you died? I watched you die when they shot you!" He screamed. It was no doubt the town may've heard his cries when he seen my face yet he was attracting more attention than needed.

 

"Razel gave you an offer no other should know," I repeated with no emotion, repeating exactly what Razel rehearsed. "But since you've declined, he cannot risk valuable information being release. I've been sent to end his worries."

 

Razel gave him the offer of being his right hand man, watching and guarding over the others fighting in his ring. He gave him a tour not yet letting him see his fighters until Walter agreed to his offer. He declined thus angering Razel. He didn't care about anything other than the money earned during his investments, with Walter by his side he had the possibility of making more money on his bets. Nobody outside of our world knew of the ring and if the information was to leak to the public, everything could possibly end in disaster and loss of money. Razel was angry Walter declined considering he held a lot of information. Walter had to be excluded from the cause of the situation which in other words included his death; me being his killer.

 

"Please, Ra-" He began, pleading with the blue eyes I've seen many different times in flashes.

 

I cut him off abruptly with a punch to the face annoyed with so much emotion he possessed. It seemed to leak from his veins freely as if by habit. Emotions would get you nowhere in life, it took great knowledge to see the world for its' true colors. I sent a round house kick to his abdomen sending him flying against the gravel. He sat up on his elbow as he looked up at me with shock, still refusing to fight back. His clenched fist indicating he didn't take kindly to being pushed around.

 

"Where have you been? Are you working with Razel? You can't kill me, your own brother?" He coughed as blood dripped from his dried lips. I pulled the knife from my waist band paying no attention to his pleas. I growled a low inhumane sound still annoyed with myself.

 

"I am no longer her." I brought him up by the base of his neck, his eyes widening at my strength.

 

"Rachel, please!" He pleaded. The name was foreign to me; I'd long since forgotten I actually had a name other than my pet name. I didn't hesitate when my blade punctured his abdomen where I'd kicked him painfully. Shock registered when more blood began to pour from his sticky pale lips.

 

 

Chapter One

 

Jaw locked and anger clawing at my insides; I turn and walk from the shadows as if I hadn't just killed my own brother. Kidnapped and taken at five from my ten year old brother must've taken a large toll on him. Razel had told me his name and I'd recognized who he was almost instantly. The name and his piercing blue eyes staring

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