Glyph Read online

  Glyph

  Book One of

  the Legacy series

  Max Ellendale

  Breathless Press

  Calgary, Alberta

  www.breathlesspress.com

  This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously and are not to be construed as real. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, organizations, or

  persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

  Glyph: Legacy Series Book 1

  Copyright© 2012 Max Ellendale

  ISBN: 978-1-77101-070-2

  Cover Artist: Mina Carter

  Editor: Deadra Krieger

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced electronically or in print without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations

  embodied in reviews.

  Breathless Press

  www.breathlesspress.com

  For Jules

  Without you, this story would only be fifty percent.

  Many thanks to Les, Kristen, Tav, and Krista for being my first readers, and to Mary who taught me to imagine…

  Chapter One

  “Out of suffering have emerged the strongest of souls; the most massive characters are seared with scars.” ~ Kahlil Gibran

  I was tired of hearing voices. The echoes in my head were so loud sometimes, like a swarm of bees stuck in the wall of an empty house. A chronic buzz that no one could ever seem to turn off. Especially me. So there I was, hiding in a closet surrounded by syringes and sterile medical supplies, squeezing my head and hoping that I would get a grip before the next emergency. At least this time I’d kept the lights on, and it was a good thing too because Sam flung the door open.

  “Doctor Twofeathers, the transfer is here.” Her eyes lingered on me for a moment. I could tell she was trying to keep the worry from her face. Poor Sam. She was always catching me in the strangest of circumstances. One day she’ll start asking questions.

  “Thanks, Sam. I’ll be right out.”

  I tossed my stethoscope around my neck and took a deep a breath. As I braced myself against a tower of bandages, I took a moment to prepare for my next encounter. Transfers were common in the emergency room, but lately, I’ve been seeing some pretty bad cases. The last thing I needed was another dead baby or burn victim.

  The emergency room was in a ruckus by the time I got there. Nurses were running, EMTs were shouting, and Sam was standing by the exam room with her mouth hanging open like a dead fish. I had to push my way through the crowd just to get to my patient.

  “What’ve we got?”

  No one answered me. Everything seemed suddenly still, as if the room itself was holding its breath. I knew it was something bad, very bad, for my trained staff to have such a silent reaction. The energy in the room seemed to buzz, though not a soul was moving.

  Please not another smashed-up teenaged drunk driver.

  Moving in perceived slow motion, I gripped the blood-soaked sheet covering the gurney and peeled it back. The fabric clung to the sopping mess beneath it. My grip tightened as I pulled. The sound of slurping blood and sticky tissue set off a wave of response from behind me: the sound of someone retching and a gasp. On my table was a skinless little girl. I didn’t know where to put my hands on her striated muscles and oozing tissue. I was sure that she was dead until the slightest turn of her head had her looking at me. Her eyes were a crystal blue that seemed to reach out and scream at me for help. My breath caught in my throat while my stomach churned.

  Where to start? Where do I even begin to start? She was going to die, and I knew I couldn’t do a thing to help her. My hands moved over her as if trying to find something to do, somewhere to press or pause. Then, there was a rattle. The gasping rattle that only death brings, primal and desperate. It made me ache just to hear it; my knees trembled. With blue eyes gleaming at me, her torso lifted, then dropped back to the bed.

  The heart monitor wailed to a flat line.

  ***

  It was almost dawn by the time I left the hospital. I couldn’t breathe. The freezing February air made it even more difficult as every inhale burned my lungs in an icy grip. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t stop seeing the image of those blue eyes as if they were burned into the back of my eyelids. What the hell happened to her skin?

  I nearly met my death when I slid across a patch of black ice, only to slam into a solid something that giggled without even stumbling.

  “Well, hi to you too,” she said, flinging her silky, black ponytail off her shoulder. The woman was about the same height as me, but she appeared much younger. Her bouncing body and bright smile reminded me of a giddy teenager who’d just returned home after sneaking out to drink with boys.

  “Sorry, lost my footing.” I walked up the steps to my apartment building, choosing my path across the hazardous concrete with far more care than before.

  “S’okay, I locked myself out, as usual…” She rocked on her heels, staring at me with a hopeful, impish smile.

  “I’ll let you in.” I pulled my keys from the pocket of my lab coat, taking comfort in the sensation of the metal in my hands. I couldn’t wait to get home and put the day behind me. My couch was the best place in the world sometimes.

  “I’ve never seen you here.” The woman hopped up the steps behind me, arms out, as if she were playing hopscotch and each step was a square.

  “I’ve been here.” I unlocked the door, holding it open for her before stepping inside.

  “I’m Xany.”

  “You’re zany? Should I be worried?” The door clicked shut behind us. Xany couldn’t be her real name. Who would name their kid something as crazy as Xany? Maybe her parents were hippies or part of one of those strange religious sects that worshipped leaders with bizarre names.

  Or maybe they were just sadists, like your father.

  I shook my head at the voice, trying to hush it, and barely managed to catch the woman’s reply.

  “Only on the weekends.” Her words rolled through a giggle.

  “Well…then I’m glad it’s Friday.”

  “Friday is considered the weekend, “ she retorted as we climbed the inner stairwell of the building.

  “Wonderful…”

  “What’s your name?” Xany giggled again, an annoying, nagging, constant kind of giggle that was pretty much the giddiest laugh I’d ever heard. With all that was on my mind, the last thing I wanted to do was engage in some useless conversation with the girl who had a crazy name. I had to get myself out of it somehow.

  “Vanessa.” I winced at the sound of my own voice, flat and tired. That wouldn’t do the trick.

  “That’s not your name.” She stared at me with a raised eyebrow, a smirk playing across her lips.

  “How do you know?” I frowned, annoyed by the fact she didn’t let the obvious lie go.

  “You don’t look like a Vanessa.” Her gaze swept over me, studying me until I could feel my skin prickle under the weight of it.

  “What do I look like then?” I asked, trying to ignore how uneasy she made me. Maybe her name was more accurate than I thought.

  “Not Vanessa.” Xany cocked her head to the side with a knowing smile.

  “All right, then I’m Not Vanessa.”

  “Smart ass.” Her smile turned into a full-blown grin.

  “Only on the weekends,” I replied.

  “Ha…”

  Xany seemed sort of immature, though I couldn’t put my finger on just how young she was. She had lighter skin than me and was really pretty. She had dark green eyes, almost hazel, which made her look a bit untamed. Not to mention she was wearing the absolute minimal amount of clothing required to walk around in public, let alone in the middle of winter
. I’d never be caught dead wearing anything like that. A tube top and cutoff jeans in February? Get real.

  We kept walking up five flights of stairs together, eventually ending our trek on the top floor of the building. Xany pranced a few doors down before looking back at me when I stopped at my apartment.

  “You’ve lived here all this time? How come I’ve never seen you before?” She took down a hidden key from above her door.

  “I don’t know… That’s not very safe you know.” I nodded toward the key.

  “Were you hiding?” Xany shrugged off the key comment, lifting both eyebrows at me while she unlocked her door. For some reason I had the impulse to push her inside.

  “No…” Not from anything I could tell her about anyway. Or tell anyone for that matter.

  “Sureee…” She waggled her brows and stepped into her apartment, only to peek back out. “It was nice meeting you, Not Vanessa.”

  “You too.” I thought she was at least a little bit nutty, yet I found myself amused by her—in an irritating kind of way.

  “Maybe I’ll catch you on a day when you’re not hiding.”

  “Maybe,” I agreed. Don’t bet on it.

  “Well, nighty-night.”

  “Good night.” I opened my door, flicking on the light switch just inside the door before entering. As I turned to close the door, I noticed Xany was still watching me from the hall. “My name is Shawnee,” I admitted in a sudden moment of boldness.

  She gave me a catlike grin before slipping into her apartment. I shook my head and locked up all three chains on my door.

  Did you really think she cared what your name was?

  I rolled my shoulders when the echoes came blaring loud and clear into my brain. I was tired of it, and there was only one way to get some peace. I grabbed a beer from the fridge before tossing myself on the sofa.

  You’re so stupid.

  My whole body relaxed when I cracked open the can. The slurp-snap sound had been in my life for as long as I could remember, except now I was the one making the noise. I had control.

  No, you don’t.

  The slurp-snap was mine.

  Nothing is yours.

  The first sip was a cooling burn that set my mouth at ease.

  No one cares about you.

  I gulped down the beer, desperate for relief.

  You’ll always be alone.

  Please. Stop.

  Always.

  One can…two cans…three cans…four.

  Alone.

  Five cans…six cans…thoughts no more.

  Chapter Two

  Black. Green. Blue. Flash. Crash. Scream. Fur. Eyes. Fangs! I woke up from the nightmare gasping and sweating. The clock perched on top of the television told me it was 3:33 a.m. Great.

  I stood, shaking off the drunken sleep that tried to dig its claws into my head and drag me back down into the nightmares that waited for me. My lungs burned like they’d spent the last few minutes struggling to breathe. I needed air, fresh, clean air to clear my head.

  I grabbed my keys from the desk, slipped the house key into my sock like I always did when I went on my late night walks, and headed out of my apartment. Unable to resist, I glanced at Xany’s door before taking the stairs down to the back exit of the building. My thoughts were meddlesome. I kept hearing the screams of my nightmare echoing in my ears and seeing the bloodied body of the blue-eyed girl from the hospital.

  It’s your fault.

  Shaking my head, I wrapped my arms around myself and headed out into the night.

  Should have taken a jacket, idiot.

  I lifted my chin to greet the full moon. Luna, as my mother called it. “Give thanks to Luna,” she’d say. “She is our guiding light.” Sadness bubbled up in my chest, but I pushed it away.

  I ducked under a branch coated with leftover snow from last week’s storm. The streetlights faded away, and the shadows of the trees wrapped around me. For a moment, I was content.

  The ground was covered with soggy leaves and twigs that crunched when my boots weighed in on them. I walked for about ten minutes, enjoying the quiet noises of my own footfalls and the scent of nothing but nature.

  I passed a maple tree, wishing I could become part of it. Maybe then I’d be able to stand tall and proud, like my mother. I took a deep breath to wash off the uncomfortable thoughts, half expecting to hear the echoes that normally bothered me. Instead, from somewhere in the distance, a snapping twig broke my reverie.

  My body tensed as I strained to listen over the pounding of my heartbeat. It was stupid of me to think that I was alone in the woods. After a moment of silence, I continued walking.

  You’re just hearing things as usual.

  I know. I know.

  I turned back toward the apartment building and caught a whiff of something that resembled a mix of dirt, leaves, and wet dog. The snap of another branch echoed in the darkness. I stood as still as possible, staring into the void. Something was definitely moving somewhere in front of me. I wanted to run, but my legs wouldn’t move. The darkness closed in on me, consuming me, narrowing my vision. The noise drew closer. The odor was strong, searing the pungent scent deep in throat. My lungs seized like they always do when I’m scared. The stink was familiar, a scent that haunted my nightmares and shadowed my dreams. I squeezed my eyes shut, pleading with myself to wake up.

  A shudder ran down my spine when a deep rumbling pierced the hush. I opened my eyes to find myself staring at a furry wall of muscle. The bated breath of the beast bore down on me. My heart beat like a drum in my ears, a deafening decibel that I was sure the beast could hear. Every part of my body wanted to run, scream, cry, kick. But I couldn’t. My entire body was shaking with horror. This was it, I was dead. All I had to do now was wait for my head to be bitten off or my skin unraveled. The monster met my gaze, and I couldn’t force myself to look away. I stared. I stared so hard that its yellow eyes tore into me. On the edges of my vision, I noticed the whiskered muzzle dripping with saliva.

  Here it comes. Time to roll over and die.

  Finally my body unlocked. Muscles released and I was able to move. I took a step back. The monster heaved a deep breath as if ready to roar in rage. It stood back up to full height. I swung myself around and tore ass out of the woods.

  By the time I slammed into the back door of the building, I was shaking too much to get my key in the lock. I fumbled until my jittery hands cooperated, expecting a seer of pain as the beast ripped into my skin at any moment. A strangled cry of relief emitted from my throat as the key finally caught and the lock turned, allowing me in. I yanked the door shut behind me, catching my sleeve in the doorjamb. Not a dream… I’m awake…

  I was still shaking when I reached my apartment.

  “Wow. That must have been the date from hell.” Xany’s giggling voice interrupted my panic. It took me a second to recognize her as I raced to unlock my door. I was shaking so severely that everything around me seemed blurry.

  “Hey… Hey, Shawnee, are you okay?”

  Xany followed me inside. I stumbled to the sofa and sat, hugging my knees to my chest, repeating, “Forget, forget, forget, “ while rocking back and forth. I couldn’t get the smell of the monster out of my nose. Xany sat down in front of me, her eyes wide with worry. I wanted to run, cry, and scream, all at once.

  Never show your pain.

  I kept my gaze to the floor. I didn’t want Xany to see me upset. I never wanted anyone to see me exhibit even the tiniest bit of emotion. Especially a stranger like Xany. She watched me in silence for a moment, toying with a beaded leather armband that she wore on her left arm like a gauntlet.

  “What happened?” She placed her hand on my shoulder, but I jerked away. She took the rejection well, placing her hand back in her lap and leaving me alone until my panic subsided and I was able to see clearly again.

  “There was a…a bear in the woods or something.”

  “Bear? There aren’t any bears here.” She giggled before asking, �
�Are you sure it wasn’t just a little bobcat or coyote? They can be pretty scary.”

  “Yeah… probably. It was probably nothing.”

  “Probably nothing,” she repeated. Xany stood, placing her hand on my head before going to the kitchen to get me water. “You’re so pale. Drink.” She held out the glass to me, maintaining a firm grip on it until I cupped it with both hands.

  “I’m fine, you can go now.” I obeyed and sipped the water, my hands trembling as I held the glass. I needed to deal with this on my own. It wasn’t a dream this time. Xany’s presence proved it.

  “You sure don’t look fine to me. Well, I mean, not lookin’ all scared like a rabbit anyway. What happened to your shirt?”

  “I’m not a rabbit.” I glared at her, trying to defend myself.

  “You sure are acting like one. Running like the big bad wolf is after you, little red.” She tugged at my torn sleeve. Her expression changed when she saw my birthmark on my arm, just below my right shoulder. It was a few shades darker than my skin and looked more like a sunken scar than a birthmark. It had the distinct shape of four wiggly lines resembling a claw scratch.

  “What did you just say?” I yanked my sleeve back down.

  Xany turned from me to saunter around my living room, her own bit of scrutinizing, I imagined. It wasn’t much to look at, relatively small with bare essentials and a few empty beer cans lying around. Suddenly I was self-conscious about my living space. She glanced back at me as if she had been distracted. “What? Oh, I was just saying that you’re skittish like a rabbit being chased by a wolf.”

  “I’m not a rabbit! Why would you even say that?” Talking about wolves and anything related to the subject made me uneasy. I stood to face her, crossing my arms over my chest, ready to defend myself should the need arise. I wasn’t about to let Xany, or anyone, into my world. “What would you even know about wolves anyway?”