Since my new YA Paranormal novel is going to be available to purchase from Amazon in the next day or two, I decided I would post the prologue as a sneak peek. The novel is told in the first person, from the point of view of Florence Vaine, however the prologue provides a glimpse into the past, where a young girl dies in the same town Flo is going to be moving to. The intention is basically to provide readers with an idea of the kind of supernatural enemy Flo is going to find herself up against. I wanted to make this part really spooky, I hope I achieved this.
Anyway, the following is the prologue about Lauren, a girl who has always been able to see into the future. I’m also going to be doing a giveaway of the entire book on Friday, so keep an eye out.
Chesterport, 2 years ago
Creeping. Creeping. Creeping up on her. Always creeping. Always watching. Forever waiting. Lauren knew she was being followed. She knew what the following was going to end with. She could see the future. Ever since she had been little.
“Mind the step, Mother,” she’d say, five minutes before her mum would trip and bruise her knee on the back door step.
Puzzled looks, fear, and conclusions that she was mentally ill soon taught her to keep quiet. Let the future be what it may. She would no longer interfere. But now she had to do something. Because she saw her own future and it was not a pretty picture. The problem was, she could not see what led to it, nor when it would occur. She knew that the song Immortality by The Bee Gees and Celine Dion would be playing. Sometimes that fact alone scared her more than the torture that was to follow.
At first she avoided the shed in her back garden like the plague, the original setting of her untimely demise. But when she saw her future again, the same thing happened yet in a different location. That was how she knew that no matter how much she avoided the places of her death, it would still happen. It didn’t matter how far she ran, because those women would find her. The women with black veins and upside down crucifixes tattooed in the gap between their eyebrows. They always came for her in the end.
It had been her birthday yesterday, Lauren had turned eighteen. She’d been happy, momentarily pushing away thoughts of her death. She’d laughed with her friends, basked in being the centre of attention, and enjoyed opening her presents. She had even spent an hour or so making plans with her best friend Kate for their summer trip to Berlin. Lauren tried to pretend that the trip to Berlin was going to happen, but deep down she knew it would not. She had not had one single vision of Berlin, and therefore it would not be in her future.
There were only two weeks left of school and then she was to set off for Germany. She could deduce that if she did not make it to Berlin, then her death was coming within those two weeks. The thought caused fear to rush through her veins. She sat in her bedroom and stared at the lemon coloured paint on the walls. The colour had once been so vibrant to her, now it seemed rather sickly.
It was at that very moment that the feeling struck her. Hairy spider legs running down her spine. The women were coming in their true form, and the harder she felt those horrible spiders she knew that they were getting closer.
For a split second her entire house rippled, the solid bricks became as fluid as liquid, and then a second later turned stable again. An unearthly silence filled the space; she could no longer hear her mother chattering with her aunt Vivian downstairs in the kitchen, even though her bedroom door was wide open. She couldn’t make out the noises of her little sister watching television in her bedroom next door.
Lauren hesitated a moment, then called out, “Mum?” but no sound came from her lips. She tried again, “Mum?” still nothing. Her vocal cords had been rendered useless. Tears filled her eyes and she stood up from her bed, she knew what was coming. She’d been seeing it all this time, never knowing when it would happen. But now they were here, they’d finally come for her. Lauren was almost relieved her wait had come to an end. And then, just like in her vision, the music started up, this time it came from the stereo on her bedroom shelf. Immortality by Celine Dion and The Bee Gees.
What a creepy song, she thought, as the lyrics flowed from the speakers. But then she realised what made the song so creepy, Celine was not the only one singing the opening verse. Another voice sang along, a voice that was on the surface light and cheerful, sentimental even. But Lauren could hear its true nature. Selfish. Power hungry. Ruthless. Evil. And just as the voice sang along to the line, “The spark that makes the power grow,” the woman appeared.
The others filled the staircase and landing that led to Lauren’s bedroom. Lauren had seen this woman’s a face a thousand times, in her visions and in her nightmares, but here in the flesh the horror of her appearance was tenfold. Every black vein in her body was visible through her translucent skin. The heretic’s cross in between her eyebrows pulsated. The long grey gown she wore seemed to hide a myriad of atrocities. The woman stopped singing but the song played on.
“I do love this tune,” she said, gazing hungrily at Lauren. “It is the perfect song for us, my little lamb.”
And then she crept closer, creeping, creeping, creeping. Lauren tried to scream out in terror but it was no use, her voice was gone. The woman opened her mouth wide, wider than was natural, her jaws became unhinged and Lauren felt a slight pull. The suction quickly grew stronger. Her very life force was being taken from her, but all she could do was gape in horror at how this monster took it.