This is chapter one from book one (The Rise of Raine McKale) from my Zalika trilogy.
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Daryl was finally in the grips of a tormented sleep. The thought of sleeping had haunted him for a few weeks now he done anything to stay awake – he would drink coffee after coffee for hours on end, sneak out in the middle of night and wander the streets trying to find something that would amuse him and keep him awake.
But after days without sleep his body gave in and collapsed if his brain liked it or not. He was in the same nightmare again he stood out in an open field, it felt like it was all in black and white. But it wasn't that – it was more like all the colours of this place had been sucked and drained out of it. Pale shadows stood before him – billions of them stretching as far as the eye could see on this grassy plateau. Daryl stood up on a slight mound like a throne, as everyone in the crowd threw there arms into the air praising him – but like all the time the praising turned to desperate pleads as the fire like plague moved in on the crowd.
Far away at the other end he could see a faint light burning – it was the only light in the whole place but he knew it wasn't anything good. It moved towards with furious speed, the screams and pleading of the crowd rose higher and higher into a begging cacophony that made Daryl fall to his knees his hands clasped over his ears there hands ripped at his clothing pulling at him begging him.
“What can I do?!” he roared out against the crowd – it only seemed to incense them angered jeers roared out in reply as they pulled at him, there groans growing as the flame raced towards Daryl. Although he had been in this dream enough to know it was a person – it hacked and killed everyone it passed children, mothers, men, elders. It made no difference.
“I'm just a boy...” it was Daryl's turn to plead with the crowd as they moved in on him – the flame was lighting up everything around now as it closed in on it's prize, Daryl. And like all other times the faces closest to him began to turn into his friends and family. “No!” Daryl screamed as the man wreathed in flames descended upon them “It will not be long for you now” a smooth calculating voice assured him as everything turned black.
He shot up wide awake a tense groan forced it's way through his lips – it would have been a full scream if he had enough breath. His chest heaved up and down heavily as his ragged breathing fought to gain control. Sweat poured down his face and he could taste the salt in his parched mouth as he rubbed at his swollen tired eyes.
Daryl peeled the heavy sweat soaked sheets from his body as he stood up shakily his body shaken from the nightmare his brain deprived of sleep. He stomped into the bathroom leaning on the sink holding onto it as he looked into the mirror, his brown eyes looked sunken and deprived of life. He was always a happy go lucky kind of person – until these nightmares took there toll he found himself snapping at people, his usual long temper was a simple small fuse now.
He has medium length hair that was in a permanent mess – of his choice. His skin had a natural tan glow to it, most of his features were dark and handsome. But they looked pallid and worn out despite the tender age of seventeen. A yawn ripped at his mouth as it forced it wide open he gasped for breath to fend it off. He cupped his hands under the running tap and sucked at the filtering water in his hands getting rid of the horrible dry feeling in his mouth like he had been eating cotton. He splashed his face once, twice, three times. It still done nothing to wake him up.
He could hear the sounds of morning life, kettles boiling, the sound of cutlery clinking as people ate. The ruffling sounds as the pages of newspapers were turned. Usually he liked to be the last one up it meant the house was already alive, he could wake down to the sight of his breakfast waiting for him the TV murmuring the morning news in the background as he ate. But now the thought of having to deal with people irritated him, having to interact and talk to people. Because he had seen how they looked at him differently they noticed his change in appearance, his mood swings and shortness with people.
His stomach rumbled he had lost his appetite since his mood had dropped – the simple action of eating seemed to take too much effort. His face was sunken because of it. The nightmare didn't only stalk him in his sleep but every minute of the day – a feeling of impending doom. It was like a venomous shadow constantly on his back. He soaked his face again running his wet hands through his long hair before turning and walking out of the bathroom. Even the bathroom seemed to annoy him with it's shining white tiles – perfectly clean unlike him he was dull and weary looking.
He felt almost relieved that the summer holidays had begun at school he was well liked and intelligent – although he was a bit of a rebel the teachers sometimes turned a blind eye because his results were so good. But he was growing tired of school, everyday seemed like an eternity to get through and the forced interaction with other people drove him insane to the point he felt like attacking the next person he seen smile at him. He stomped down the stairs his legs working on basic functions – he could see his mother at the kettle waiting for it to boil as she skimmed over the newspaper. He slinked through into the dining room his father was sitting reading over some papers as he shoved them into his briefcase. He managed to float by like a ghost into the sanctity of the living room. Daryl was an only child so when he felt like being alone in the house it wasn't too difficult most of the time.
They were still working despite Daryl having the holidays off which meant he only had to persevere with them in the morning, he yawned loudly alerting his mother to his presence in the living room.
“Morning Daryl” she called out, he mumbled something in reply “want some breakfast?” she said continuing her attempt to get him talking “I don't want anything” he snapped finally. There was a cold silence in reply – he cursed himself for being so horrible to his family as he buried his head into a cushion.
He continued to hide his face in the cushion until he heard the front door close over twice. That meant they had both left for work. He finally left the dark solitude of his face pressed into the cushion when he looked around the morning sounds had been replaced by the drone of the television. Daryl sat up he could lightly see his reflection as he watched the television but it wasn't him – it was a ghost a shadow of Daryl. He rubbed at his heavy eye lids thinking that when he looked up he would see the real Daryl – but it still eluded him. Finally he stood up the quiet monotony of the house seemed to pound in at his skull he had to get away from it.
He quickly ran up stairs pulling on the same clothes as yesterday as he headed out of the house into the sunlight that seemed to burn him. “What is wrong with me?” he muttered to himself as he strolled out down his street it was full of children out playing summer games of football and tig, he could hear them laughing as they climbed up trees only to jump back down and start it all over again. A wry smile turned up the corners of his lips as he thought back to the time when it was a whole new world an adventure to just climb a tree. But the innocence of being a child had well and truly left him behind. It donned on him at that moment – he had always known deep down but he had fought it off, he wasn't a child in a care free world were his parents could fix everything for him and he could have the time of his life without leaving the basement that seemed to be another world. He was an adult responsible for himself and his own actions. Innocence was lost.
Daryl lived in a nice quiet area – it had it's troublesome spots like anywhere else but on the whole it was a place he felt safe. He knew most people and most people knew him, it gave him a license to wander. And that is what he did he just strolled not paying attention to where he turned he let the path guide him he turned when it turned, he walked straight when it stayed straight. Before he knew it he found himself in somewhere he recognised. He stood outside St. Eunan's church he looked around he knew this area best because his girlfriend lived across the street, he sat down on the church steps looking into the living room window of her house. He hadn't seen her as much lately he just couldn't bring himself to be near her. Not because of her but him, she was so nice and he was worried he would snap at her at some time. Finally he seen someone walk into the living room it was her – he could tell she was looking into the mirror above the fireplace.
Diana was a stunning woman – she was a natural beauty girls tried to look as good as he but it took them bottles of hair dye, piles of make up. Flashing as much skin as possible to get attention, Diana done none of this. Her hair was a natural raven colour it had a glimmering shine that made it seem almost alive, her eyes were the deepest darkest blue like an ocean reflection at night time. He skin had a natural olive glow. Her teeth were straight and pearly white – she was a medium height tall for a girl.
“Some people would be a little worried at you watching a young girl in her house” came a voice behind Daryl, he jerked out of his day dream to turn and see a priest smoking.
“Some people would think it was odd for a priest to be smoking” Daryl replied his quick wit shining through. Father McConnell smiled as he stepped forward, he had a slightly bent nose from years before when he boxed for his church. His black hair was now greying with flecks of black running through it. He had a warm smile as he laughed before inhaling on his cigarette.
“You might be right there... but it can be stressful when your one of the lords shepards” McConnell retorted as he sat down.
“Who is she?” he asked nodding in the direction of Diana's house
“My girlfriend, her names Diana” Daryl said his head tilting down as he looked at the ground
“Should you not be inside with her then?” McConnell asked dropping his cigarette on the stair stubbing it out with his beaming black shoes, “I'm not the best person to be around at the moment”
“You seem perfectly fine to me” it was at that moment Daryl realised he was talking to someone, like he used to his head snapped up “How did you do that?” he asked with a nervous glare
“Do what?” McConnell asked with genuine confusion
“You got me talking?” Daryl quickly said eyeing him up
“Well it's not hard Daryl...” he smiled “all we have to do is talk to people when they come asking for it”
Daryl shot up out of his seat as he jumped down the stairs backing away “I never told you my name, and I didn't come asking to talk to anyone ok!”
McConnell's head dropped as he spoke “People come here when they need to talk to someone the road led you here did it not? But if you refuse it then your refusing help”
“I don't need your help!” Daryl roared as he turn and fled.
He panted and heaved as his tired body grew to exhaustion as he sprinted, letting his legs carry him anywhere as long as it was further way from Father McConnell. He stopped at the backfields, it was a little field near a housing estate – it seemed like something of a forest in a concrete metropolis. His friends would come out here and camp the night girls and boys all running around trying to scare one another – being young.
Daryl sat down on a fallen tree – his stomach churned as he felt he was going to vomit a lack of food, sleep and exerting his body beyond what it could handle. How did he know his name – had he told him and forgot? “No I didn't tell him” he assured himself.
His brain seemed to heave in confusion he could almost feel the soft tissue of his brain forcing it's self against his skull as if yearning to escape. To break out and join some other place – he fell to his knees heavily vomiting up bile mostly due to a lack of food. An almost unbearable weight crashed down on him as if he finally realised his task – but he still had no inkling of what was expected of him, only and impending sense that he was expected to do something great a feeling that had haunted him for years – a feeling he had run from.
“You'll meet your obstacle soon – and you will not meet your expectations you will fail” a sly voice floated through the wind to him. He turned the forest was now shrouded in darkness, he had been sitting for hours letting everything fly by him the hum drum of the motorway nearby was now almost silent, it must have been late he thought to himself.
“Who is that?!” he stood demanding the ripple in his voice contradicting his now brave stance
a cool laugh came from no where “it's your tormentor – the man shrouded in flames. The man you will not defeat, but you know this Daryl. Your no fool, but your no fighter either. Your no believer, your lack of faith in yourself and the lack of faith people have in you will kill you and make me king for all time” he spun around on the spot in search of this mysterious voice – but nothing. It soon died away, Daryl gasped in shock at the feeling of fresh tears splashing his face he rubbed them looking at his moist finger tips in shock. He thought back to the church the feeling of safety that seemed to loom from the building as his heavy legs stumbled and fell as he walked – his muscles burned crying out to stop – but he kept on walking.
Daryl had never been religious but the pull towards the church was strong as it pulled him ever closer he finally stumbled at the steps of the church. He curled up in the door way as he pulled his coat up and around him finally allowing his body to rest.
Father McConnell stood watching with a frown tugging at his mouth. The boy was worn out, scared and lost. And he knew why, there was no faith not in him. But in something higher – every second people lost there faith it weighed on Daryl. But all he could do was stand back and let it all happen it was not his fight it was beyond him and at this moment in time beyond Daryl, the world was doomed. The most powerful man who will ever live lay cowering, tired and almost finished at the tender age of seventeen – and there hopes were pinned on him.
He opened the door avoiding to bump Daryl – he stepped over him and quickly walked over to Diana's he chapped at the door. Diana answered her hair tied up wearing pyjama's “Father McConnell?” she asked confused
“It's Daryl” he answered quickly – then her eyes lit up with fright. One person who loved him beyond anything, there was a slim light of chance as long as she lived.
Without asking she followed him back to the church, “take him to your house” he said simply helping her to carry him home. He left them at the door as Diana heaved him up the stairs his weary body barely responding to the movement. Finally he felt the comfort of her bed and a slither of energy as she rubbed at his brow “I'm scared” he whispered she tilted her head.
“Of what?”
“I don't know” he simply answered as he collapsed into a deep sleep – she curled in close to him her arms tight around his waist for the first time in weeks he slept in comfort his nightmare tried to force it's way through but it felt like there was the world standing against it. Oceans putting out the man in flames, wind blowing him back. The mound he stood on lifting him high into the sky high away from the pleading faces. He could feel the man's anger at this force of nature repelling his every move – but then came the words barely audible “Fine – I will come to you in person, not your dreams!” until the howling wind sent his heavy words filtering away.
Then came another voice a soft murmuring voice it was a child's voice his barriers fell a soft light broke inside his mind “Sleep Daryl, your safe for the moment – the watchers are watching you”
“Come to me in person” Daryl could hear himself finally challenging a new belief running through him, the slick sneering voice of his opponent replied casually with tone of doubt running through it “Ah, you are confident now. You need your feeble friends surrounding you” a cold laugh ripped out “I will come and your friends will do nothing to stop me – until then, get better – I don't fight weak prey. And your battle is no small one, Raine McKale”
