Haunted Destiny - Kelly Abell (good books to read for women .txt) 📗

Take a Sneak Peek at my Paranormal Novel entitled Haunted Destiny


Prologue


Frosthaven, Connecticut 1857


Enya awoke gasping and coughing. She opened her eyes but the smoke was so thick she couldn’t see. Each breath she took drew more acrid black smoke into her lungs as she fought to breathe. Confused she slipped from her bed and yelped as the hot floor burned the soles of her bare feet. Her house was on fire. She squinted and tried to see through the smoke but it burned her eyes causing them to fill with tears.

There was a pounding on her door. “Enya! Open the door.”

It was her father and she could tell by the slurring of his words that he was drunk, again. Oh Dear Lord, what had he done? Where was her mother and baby brother?

“I can’t get to the door, Father. The floor is too hot.” She coughed as the smoke grew thicker in the room. She had to get out but she didn’t know how. She had to get to her mother and brother. “Where are Mother and Shane?”

Her father pounded on the door again. “Let me in, you wench. I can’t get to you through a locked door.”

After a short pause Enya heard her father slam his body into the door trying to break in but the latch held firm. There was no way he could get in. Her thoughts came rushing at her all at once, fear chilling her in spite of the heat. She processed his words as she’d done so many times before. He did not say “get you out”, he said, “Get to you”. Her heart hammered in her chest. His folly with drink had finally come to demand its recompense. It didn’t matter that her father, the Honorable Judge Frost, was one of the most prominent men in town. When the drink took over he was as mean and low as any of the criminals he put behind bars.

She had to get to Shane and her mother. This thought moved Enya to action. . Even though the floor was hot and would burn her she had to get down below the smoke and get to the door. Bracing for the burning pain she dropped to the floor on her hands and knees and scrambled to the door. Her long wool nightgown protected her knees from the sticky varnish coating heating up on the floor boards, but not her hands. She left pieces of skin behind on her fast trek to the door. Without thinking, Enya reached up and grabbed the copper doorknob. The searing of her flesh ripped a scream from her parched throat drawing even more smoke into her lungs. Cradling her hand she sat down hard on the floor.

“I can’t open it,” she cried. “It’s too hot. Father, what have you done?” She coughed uncontrollably. She was unable to open the door from inside and her father couldn’t break it in. She didn’t know if she was relieved or terrified. What was worse? Letting her father in, or burning to death. If it weren’t for her mother and brother, Enya would jump out the window. Breaking a leg would be far better than being on fire and far better still than facing her father’s wrath. How many times had she done that and borne the bruises to show for it?

Her mother, a poor Irish immigrant maid, had felt honored to be chosen by the wealthy Judge as his second wife after his first wife died in an accident. Enya wondered how honored her mother felt now, after years of torture and abuse, at the hands of this horrible man.

Poor Shane, he was just a baby. Enya had to find them. Where were they? Were they already safe? How long could they last in this smoke and heat? As if summoned by her thoughts, an angry storm of the thick black smoke rolled under the door reminding Enya that she was out of time.

“Get Shane and Mother,” she shouted above the roar of the flames she could now hear on the other side of the door. “I’ll try to get out the window and jump down.”

“I’ve already taken care of them, open the damn door; I’m going to burn to death out here.” His voice was so angry that it struck fresh terror in Enya’s heart. What did he mean, taken care of them?

She glanced around her room looking for another way out. She spotted the little angels carved in the French Rococo mirror on her dresser. “Oh little angels, spare our souls,” Enya offered up in prayer.

She didn’t want to, but she saw no other choice. She was going to have to open the door. She could hardly breathe and if he could get her out of the house then she had to try. Wrapping her nightgown around her already burned hand she yanked back the bolt and turned the white hot knob. The door burst inward along with an enormous back draft of flames fed by the oxygen left in the room. Her father was engulfed in flames as he stumbled through the door.

Enya screamed at the site of the burning man and turned to run toward the window. He grabbed the edge of her nightgown preventing her escape. She looked over her shoulder, shocked. Her father was on fire yet not a single scream escaped his blistered lips. He pulled her close, singing her hair with the flames that licked around his clothes. She screamed again, kicking and fighting with all the strength she had left. With every scream she sucked in more acrid black smoke.

“Let me go!” She was burning. The hem of her gown was on fire burning her legs. She kicked and scratched but still he would not release her.

“Finally I have you, you Irish witch. You were always trouble.” Her father croaked out the menacing words. “The first mistake I made was marrying an Irish maid. I should have known she would produce Irish brats. I thought being half English would spare you, but no. Irish through and through you are and for years you’ve been spreading wicked lies about me all over town. Your witchery has everyone thinking I’m a drunkard, cruel and abusive.

I will never sit on another Judges bench again because of you. The second mistake I made was to leave you alive. I should have drowned you the day you were born. It’s alright now though; you are going to pay. With your mother and brother gone, you have no one left to save and you and I are going straight to hell.”

Enya shrieked again yanking and pulling to get away from the burning man. The scorching pain burned through to her very soul. He only held her tighter to him and dragged them both to the face the mirror. She was paralyzed with fear.

“Look at yourself, Enya. Are you proud now? You’ve killed your mother and brother and now you and I will spend eternity together forever in a fiery grave.”

“NO!” Enya turned her head from the horrifying site of her and her father standing in the middle of the room being swallowed by the crimson and orange blaze.

He yanked her hair and twisted her head back to the mirror. Her prayers to the angels wouldn’t be answered tonight. “You know your end is ironic. I bet you don’t even know what your name means in Gaelic. It means Fire! So watch, you witch,” he growled. “Watch while we burn.”

Enya did watch and what she saw in that mirror was more terrifying than the flames scorching her skin. Her father began to change. Boney protrusions began piercing the skin on his forehead and the hands that held her formed into black hooves with sharp talons at the back. The talons pierced the skin in her arms keeping her anchored to his morphing body. His face, oh dear sweet lord, his face formed into a twisted combination of goat and bull with jagged teeth. The last thing Enya experienced in her short innocent life was the sulfurous stench of his breath as he laughed his demonic laugh.


Arcadia, Florida 2008

Chapter 1

Destiny woke screaming and fighting the covers. She clawed at the sheets like a wild animal fighting to free itself from a trap. Sweat poured from her brow as she sat panting in the middle of the narrow bed. Her elbow hurt and she cradled it with her other hand as she waited for the nightmare to fade. Where was she? The dark room didn’t feel familiar and she blinked trying to help her eyes adjust to the darkness.

The moonlight shining through the small window directly on her right gave her enough light to see the tiny room. Her bed was flush to the wall which explained the banged elbow. The nightstand connected to the bed was directly under the window. The pretty lavender and white floral print quilt was tangled around her legs. White sheets, damp with sweat, were in knots around her. Gradually her upper body relaxed and she took deep breaths focusing on the horizontally striped pattern on the cheap wallboard. She was in her grandmother’s mobile home.

“Destiny?” Her grandmother rushed into the tiny bedroom and swiftly sat on the edge of the bed. She reached for Destiny and pulled the teenager’s trembling body into her arms. “You were screaming. Was it the nightmare again, Darling? There. There.”

She felt the girl stiffen as her gnarled arthritic hands stroked Destiny’s back, rocking her back and forth. When would this girl ever take comfort from her?

“I just keep seeing it over and over, Grams. It’s like a horror movie that just keeps playing in my mind. I wake up fighting to get out of the seat belt and trying to get to Elijah and the car is upside down. He’s screaming and I can’t get to him. Mom and Dad aren’t even in the car. It’s just horrible.”

Tears rolled down the old lady’s wrinkled cheeks. Grief and pain tore at her heart as she and her granddaughter Destiny suffered together. Rose Donaldson lost her son-in-law, daughter, and baby grandson a little less than a week ago leaving Destiny an orphan.

Destiny was crying harder now. “I keep seeing Mom’s severed head lying in the street looking at me like she wants me to do something to help her and I can’t. I can’t get out of the seat belt and then her head starts screaming at me to get to Elijah and I can’t. Mom’s head keeps screaming, and…”

“Quiet now, Destiny. It was just a dream. Your mother’s head wasn’t really screaming at you, it just seems that way in the dream. Dreams can be so real, can’t they?” She lifted the sobbing teen’s face to her own. “There was nothing you could have done to save your mother, father, or Elijah. They barely got you out of the car before it caught fire. I can’t begin to tell you how grateful I am that they did!”

Destiny blinked her tears away and gazed up at her grandmother with wet emerald eyes. “I just can’t believe they’re gone. I miss them so much.”

Rose pressed Destiny’s head to her breast and held on tighter. “I know you do, Sweetheart, so do