The Dark Gifts Inheritance

The Dark Gifts

Inheritance

by:

Willow Cross

Copyright 2011 Willow Cross

Smashwords Edition

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Smashwords Edition, License Notes

This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

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Dedication

For my brothers and sisters. You’ve protected me, guided me, loved me, and been my friends--even when you didn’t agree with what I was doing. I love you.

Inheritance

Chapter One

Bang, clang, bang reverberated up the basement stairs and throughout the house. Sarah had already attempted to finish her homework in every room available, but the volume of noise remained equal in each. At least the kitchen table offered usable workspace.

Every so often a swoosh and tick tick tick from the portable welder would interrupt the clatter of metal being pounded into place. Then the bangs would begin again.

She took a sip of coffee and sat her cup on the kitchen table harder than normal. Hot liquid sloshed over the sides and pooled under the blank sheet of paper that was supposed to have been an essay on slavery in the modern world. Crap.

The sunflower border atop the yellow walls was obviously meant to imbue a happy, even peaceful, atmosphere. However, the intention fell short. It didn't even come close to matching her mood. She stared at the mess on the table as the banging continued.

For the umpteenth time that afternoon, Sarah wondered what Aunt Edna would have done in this situation. Sure they'd never met, but it would've been nice to have a grownup's perspective. A scowl crossed her face as she thought of what the last set of foster parents would have done. Jason would already be in an institution somewhere, if not in jail.

She sighed and grabbed a paper towel. Grownups were usually more trouble than they were worth. Besides, seventeen was pretty darn close to grown up. Close enough anyhow.

Yesterday was the first she'd heard her brother banging away in the basement. Until then, Jason had been meticulous about working on his project while she was at school. And when she'd asked what in the world he was doing, she certainly hadn't been prepared for his answer.

Ha ha, very funny. Sarah had rolled her eyes, flipped her auburn hair over her shoulder, and turned to walk away.

Jason grabbed her arm and spun her around. This is serious! Why can’t I remember? Why do I keep waking up naked in the woods?

Do you have any idea how crazy you sound? You were dreaming. It must have been a dream.

His eyes narrowed. And I suppose I dreamed the naked run home, cutting between houses, trying to get here without anyone seeing me?

The thought of her brother running naked through the neighborhood was too funny to ignore. She was unable to stifle the snort that came through her nose.

Jason’s expression hadn't changed, but his grip strengthened. His eyes pleaded with her to listen as he whispered, Why am I covered in blood every time, Sarah. And why can't I remember?

She looked pointedly at her arm and he released her. Rubbing the tender area, she said, Fine. I’ll do this, but when nothing comes of it, you have to promise to get help.

According to Jason, his blackouts had been occurring three times a month. Coincidently, on the three nights the moon was fullest. He never remembered anything. And although he didn't come right out and say it, she knew he thought he was turning into some sort of monster. He'd been complaining a lot about new hair growing all over him. But geeze, he was twenty-one. Aren’t guys supposed to get hairy as they age?

Her immediate reaction was to call a shrink, but the horrifying events of the last few months stopped her. Newspaper headlines spoke of local police finding several mutilated bodies in the woods surrounding the area. Police and Townies had dubbed the suspected serial killer, ‘The Full Moon Slasher.' However, the thought of his being involved in something so irrational, or supernatural, couldn't be taken seriously. Those kinds of things just didn’t happen. Ever.

She realized the banging had finally stopped when she heard her brother's voice yell from below. It's time. Come down here and lock the door.

Oh for Pete's sake, she muttered. Sarah rose and glanced at the small notepad on the table beside her history book. Just in case, she thought as she shoved it in her back pocket and slid a pink gel pen behind her ear. She turned and stomped down the basement stairs.

***

Sarah sighed and leaned against the basement wall. The musty smell pervading the air made her nose wrinkle. Her eyes wandered over the dingy room filled with cobweb-covered boxes and finally came to rest on the steel cage in front of her. It had taken her brother two weeks to construct his prison. A prison she was certain he didn‘t need. It’s been two hours. Are you ready to discuss this rationally?

Jason stopped pacing, grabbed the bars of the cage, and gave them a good shake. The bars rattled slightly, but remained secure. It'll happen. Give it time.

Sarah's hand trembled as she pushed a loose strand of auburn hair behind her ear. Jason, please. I have a number--

I don’t need a therapist. I need a loaded gun.

She moved to the cage door and took his hand. Her fingers only stretched part way around his palm. Please. Listen to me. For once in your life--

Jason's face paled as his body began to spasm.

What's wrong?

His eyes widened. Wrenching his hand from her grasp, he clutched his throat as if choking on an invisible bone, gagging and gasping for air. His open mouth, somehow distorted, seemed abnormally large like it had grown in the few seconds he’d been choking.

J-Jason answer me! The color drained from her face and her heart pounded against her ribcage.

Jason's thick neck and broad shoulders bulged and moved as if something living crawled beneath the skin. His body lurched, slamming his six and a half foot frame against the iron bars before dropping him to the floor with a dull thud. A hand shot between the bars and latched on to her pants leg with an iron grip. His lips moved, but the only sounds escaping his distended throat were grunts and groans.

W-What the--? Sarah quivered. Hair on the back of her neck rose as goose bumps exploded over her body. Breath somehow lodged in her chest and refused to come out.

She tried to pull her leg away, but her jeans remained tight in his grasp. She placed her hands against the bars and yanked with all her strength. The sound of the thin denim ripping filled the basement. Pain shot through a muscle in her thigh. Her lungs finally released and allowed the imprisoned air to escape. Dizziness overwhelmed her as she gulped in air and limped backwards.

Jason thrashed on the floor in front of her. His flesh bubbled and stretched as the bones inside him snapped and reformed. Growling, saliva dripping from his mouth, he writhed and convulsed. Full lips turned from mauve to black as his chin elongated. His flesh ripped, only to heal, tear, and heal again. Perfect white teeth yellowed, growing long and sharp as his blue eyes bulged into enormous black globes. Hands and feet melted and reformed into paws with long dark claws. Thick hair burst from his skin covering him in a carpet of grey and white.

Sarah’s stomach churned. Her mind raced to grasp what was happening. Covering her mouth, she fought the rolling wave of nausea that threatened to spew forth. A whimper escaped while she continued to shuffle backwards. One solitary tear slid down her cheek, but her eyes remained fixed on the cage as her hand shot over to wipe it away.

Jason did not remotely resemble the blond haired, blue-eyed, brother she so dearly loved. The Jason-thing beat its head against the iron bars of the carefully constructed cage with such force she wondered if it would hold. Blood. He’d said he woke up with blood all over him, and it wasn’t his. She hadn’t believed him, and even now, couldn't wrap her mind around what he might have done. More tears spilled down her face. Oh my God. This can’t be happening! She inhaled sharply and held her breath to prevent threatening sobs from consuming her.

His head tilted back letting out a monstrous roar. Sarah covered her ears as it reverberated through the small basement like a pride of lions. In the farthest corner of the room, flattened against dusty boxes, her body shuddered as she fought to regain control of her emotions.

Jason had never lied to her. Not once in her entire life. She should have believed him.

Her eyes snapped open as the squeak of bending metal filled the room. The beast growled and snapped at the bars, pushing and shoving, desperate for escape. Each time it threw its massive body against the bars, her muscles clenched in fear. Her mind screamed at her to get out, but her heart, yelling with equal volume, told her to stay. Sarah’s eyes remained locked on the snarling wolf as she edged towards the stairway.

As she moved, the animal threw its body against the bars. Sarah paused, forced in another breath, and carefully took another step. Once again, wolf-Jason crashed into the cell door. Quivering in fear, she inched her way to freedom and safety.

By the time her foot hit the bottom stair, the animal's ferocity lessened. She eyed it warily and kept reminding herself this was her brother. Voice and body trembling, she finally spoke, Jason? Jason, can you hear me?

The thing went silent.

Still facing him, she took two more awkward steps up the stairs. Jason, are you in there?

The wolf sat as if on command and whimpered.

If you can understand me lie down.

The wolf thing appeared to be thinking before it quietly settled on the concrete floor.

Sarah let out a sigh of relief. Maybe her brother was still somewhere inside, and at least had some level of control and consciousness. Slowly moving back down the staircase, she slid her body around the wood banister and kept her back against the boxes, staying as close to the wall as possible.

The Jason thing intently watched her move, but remained still.

Okay. So you’re being good now. Are you all right? A nervous giggle erupted from her chest.

Jason shifted and cocked his head to the side.

Sarah took a step toward the cage. It’s okay. You don’t have to be afraid. We’re going to be all right. Everything will be fine, just stay calm.

The Jason thing whimpered again.

As Sarah guardedly approached the door of the cage, a low growl rumbled from his chest. Her body jerked in reaction. She hesitated. Don’t get prickly on me. Her voice remained calm, but shivers continued to run through her body.

Sarah rolled her shoulders and neck and shaking her arms, tried to release the tension built up in her muscles. This was happening and she would deal with it. End of story. As questions, doubts, and fear sought to reenter her mind she squelched them. Always logic, Sarah. Mind first, emotions later. She almost laughed at herself for repeating her favorite mantra in this situation. Luckily it worked as usual and her heartbeat slowed.

The creature yawned and stretched to its full length.

There’s a good boy. See? You know me. You know you love me.

Sarah wasn’t positive, but she thought the wolf actually rolled its eyes at her before turning on its back. Certain he had control of himself, she took another step forward.

Jason remained calm. His jaw dropped and a long red tongue plopped out as he panted and watched her.

She took a deep breath and slowly released it. See? You’re fine. I’m fine. We’re both fine.

This time there was an obvious, exaggerated eye roll.

Oh yeah, this was definitely Jason. "Well, what do you expect? I don’t know how much of you is in there. I mean you seem to be doing fine, but how do I know? It’s not like I’ve read, ‘So Your Brother’s a Werewolf for Dummies.’ I’m pretty sure nobody’s written that one, yet."

Sitting up, he barked.

Okay, let’s see how smart you are. Come sit by the cage door.

The wolf stood, shook out his coat, and trotted up to the door.

Good boy! That’s good. See, I knew you were still in there.

Sarah paced the floor. What am I supposed to do with you? She stopped in front of him and gazed into his eyes. I didn’t believe you, you know? How could I believe you?

Woof.

Oh that’s easy for you to say. You’re there, and I’m over here doing all the work.

Woof.

And I was so worried about getting you a counselor. They don’t even have therapists for this, Sarah muttered and began pacing again.

The wolf watched her as she thought. Its eyes had grown luminous, almost intelligent, and it appeared to be thinking as well. She sat on the floor cross-legged and stared into its eyes waiting for something to happen. Although she had somehow managed to gain control of her nerves, her right knee bounced up and down. She placed her hand over it, pressed down, and stopped the movement. Can you speak? Do you still have your voice?

The animal let out another slow growl.

If I touch you, will you bite me?

It rolled to its back.

Sarah paused, and then inched forward to the iron bars. A beam of moonlight cascaded through the basement window illuminating the cell as she reached toward him. The Jason thing let out a rage-filled roar, and beat at the bars. She recoiled and fell backwards. Leaping to her feet, she watched for any sign that the bars would give way this time. A few moments later, certain they would hold, she yanked the notepad from her pocket. When she reached for her pen and discovered it missing, her eyes darted over the concrete floor. It lay several feet away resting against the side of a box. She retrieved it quickly and jotted down: Moonlight has aggressive effects on subject.

As he began to calm, Sarah glanced at the small window. The beam had disappeared. Not a speck of light filtered through the dirty glass. Jason sat at the cage door looking like a scolded puppy. His size still intimidated, but he seemed completely docile.

Okay, are you going to behave yourself this time?

His eyes remained fixed on her as his head lowered.

It looks to me like the moon is bringing on a wildness, Jase.

He sniffed in her direction before lowering his body to the floor. His head moved back and forth as he watched her once again pacing the small room.

I don’t know what to do with you.

The wolf stood up and went round in circles.

Yeah. That’s what we're doing, chasing our own tails.

It sat on its hind legs and whimpered as it peered at the basement window.

I know, hun. We’ll just hang out here 'til morning. Once you’re back to normal we'll figure out what to do.

Chapter Two

Sarah woke with her face pressed against cold concrete. It took a few seconds to remember exactly why she was there. As memory ignited, she rose and made her way over to Jason. Curled in a ball and shivering, he appeared to be sleeping. She unlocked the cage and threw a blanket over him. Using her foot, she pushed his shoulder. Wake up, Jase, she said and gave him another nudge. Dangit, we don’t have time for this. Wake up.

Jason groaned as he stirred, opened his eyes, and then shot up off the floor with the blanket held tight around him. What happened? Are you okay? The words tumbled from his mouth.

I’m fine. She brushed a strand of hair from her face. It happened just like you said it would. Did something bite you?

What do you mean did something bite me? No. I haven’t even had a mosquito bite this year.

Well, if movies are correct, then something had to b--

The shocked and appalled look on her brother’s face as his eyes locked on something just to the left of her, stopped her mid sentence. Sarah turned her head to follow Jason’s gaze. About midway up, the bars on that side of the cage curved out and down, making the door look like an old bicycle rack.

I could have killed you, he whispered.

You were fine when the moonlight wasn’t shining in the window. You need to board the window up today so it can't get through. I have an idea; there was something I noticed about you last night. Tonight, I want to try an experiment. When it takes you--

Jason turned and grabbed her by the shoulders. Face pinched, tears filled his eyes. You won’t be here tonight, or any night, ever again! Don’t you get it? I could have killed you.

Although she was four years younger, Sarah had always seemed more like an older sibling than a giggly younger sister. Keeping her voice smooth and steady, she answered him calmly, You need to listen to me. We don't have time for you to crack up. You have to fix this cage, board up the window with one large piece of plywood, and bring the couch or recliner down here. I am not sleeping on the floor tonight.

He gave her a gentle shove as he spoke, pushing her away. There will be no tonight. You will lock me in this cage and you will leave. Period. I’m not arguing about it!

Already irritated, and knowing they were running short of time, her temper overrode her mouth. Her shoulders squared as her hands settled on her hips. Even if he hadn’t seen the glare in her eyes, her voice was a dead giveaway that she was done playing nice. "Well if you would stop going all big brother on me, shut up, and listen…I could explain why I can be here and why you need me to be here!"

Jason met her gaze for a moment. The muscles in his jaw clenched as he returned her scalding look with one of his own. Without saying a word, he sighed and lifted his chin in defiance. Stepping around her, he made his way up the stairs. He was starving, felt like hell, and was in no mood for her crazy logic. She wasn’t staying and that was all there was to it. End of argument.

Sarah followed behind. No one knew her brother like she did. Once he'd eaten and drank some coffee, he'd settle down and listen.

It felt strange to be cooking eggs and toast in her aunt’s quaint, sunny kitchen after what had transpired the night before. Jason slammed his fist against the table three times without uttering a word.

Why don’t we just have the conversation instead of you making it up in your head? she laughed. You don’t even know what I’m going to say.

I don’t need to know what you’re going to say because you’re not staying. You're going to lock the cage and leave.

Quit griping and eat. The plate clattered on the table sending a few small bits of scrambled egg flying as she dropped it in front of him.

They sat in complete silence for nearly twenty minutes while Jason drank his usual three cups of coffee. Seeing he was finally caffeinated and had calmed some, she broached the subject for what she hoped was the last time. Okay, before you say anything else, or start yelling again, I want you to listen to what I have to say. First of all, yes, you are very dangerous when you’re in that…condition. But when the moon isn't shining in the window, you’re docile and sweet and seem to know exactly who I am. You listened to me and even tried to communicate.

Oh, my God. Sarah, it’s not a pet you can train. I know you’ve always wanted a dog, but this is ridiculous.

"First off, you turn into a wolf, not a dog. I’m not a complete moron, and I didn’t say I could train you. I said you were reasonable and intelligent."

Jason’s face turned pink as the muscles in his neck began ticking out an erratic rhythm.

I think if you spend several nights caged with the moon shut out, you can learn to control it. I’m not talking about letting you out of the cage, Jase. I’m talking about giving you time to get control so you don’t have to spend three nights a month locked up. He looked so sad and depressed, it nearly broke her heart. Sarah leaned forward and took his hand.

I'm a monster. I killed people. Jason‘s voice shook as his eyes pleaded with her to understand.

You are not a monster. The other thing isn’t even a monster. Even changed, you are still Jason, just a really hairy version.

It took thirty minutes to talk him into letting her stay and watch. She could hear Jason banging away in the basement making repairs to the cage. When the kitchen was tidy, she headed up to the attic to find their old video camera and do some research.

The stuffy attic smelled like must. Boxes were stacked and scattered over wooden planks that served as a floor. Neither of them had spent much time in the attic. Answers lay in those boxes. Answers to questions they were afraid to ask, although Jason would never admit it. Not that she had a lot of room to talk; she hadn’t wanted to look either.

Neither of them knew much about their ancestry. As children, they had been orphaned and placed in foster care. They were luckier than most, because they'd been able to stay together. When Jason turned sixteen, he found a job and started saving money. By the time he was eighteen, he’d saved enough to rent his own place and take his little sister with him. They lived in the tiny, two-room apartment for six months before receiving notification from the probate office that an elderly aunt had died and left them her home and assets. It was a huge shock because they’d never known they had any family. There was no information available to them about what had happened to their parents, or how they had ended up in foster care. Jason had vague memories of their parents, but Sarah had none. She was only two when they were placed in the first foster home.

The only information they had ever been given was a short cryptic letter written by the dead aunt. The message read:

Dear children,

Sorry I wasn’t around to help you. I didn’t have the time or energy. Sorry I won’t be around for what follows, you will figure out what to do. Know your parents loved you, and in leaving you this house, I hope I at least did my part. When the darkness comes, hide. It is all you can do.

That was it. No muss, no fuss, and it didn’t make much sense at all. Until now. Now Sarah wondered what kind of ‘darkness’ her aunt was talking about. If there was a clue, it could be in the attic. And if it was up there, she would find it.

As she rummaged through boxes and numerous old trunks, she found links to their past. Photo albums filled with pictures, several legal documents, even an old genealogy chart dating back to the fifteen hundreds. Glancing over it, she noticed the main part of her family had lived in Romania until the late eighteen hundreds. She sat it aside with the albums and two small boxes containing paperwork.

The heat of the day warmed the dust-filled room making it hard to breathe. Sweat oozed from her pores leaving trails of clean on her dirt-smudged face. As she continued working through the mass of boxes, an eerie silence settled in the small house. Sarah poked her head out of the small rectangular opening to the attic, and called, Hey! What are you doing? Did you get everything done?

Jason peeked around kitchen doorway. No. I took a shower and now I’m making some sweet tea. Want some?

Took a shower? Holy crap, we don’t have time for that! You have things to take care of.

I’ll get them done, don’t worry. I’m thirsty. You want a glass or not?

Absolutely. It’s gross up here.

Well, come down. We’ve already been through a lot of that crap and didn’t find anything.

Sweat dripped from the tip of her nose, landing on the fold down ladder with a plop. We didn’t know what to look for then, we were just snooping.

You still don’t know what to look for. Come back down and get a drink.

I just have one more box to go through and I’ll be down.

Suit yourself, he said, and his face disappeared behind the door.

Jason was seated on the living room sofa, staring out the picture window in a daze when Sarah crawled out of the attic. He looked defeated. Hey, a little help here? she asked. Arms loaded with picture albums and a few small boxes, she attempted to navigate the rickety ladder.

Jason jumped to his feet nearly smacking his head against the ceiling fan.

I couldn’t find the camera; I don’t know where we put it. She told him.

Reaching out, he pulled a mass of cobwebs from her rust colored ponytail. It’s okay. I don’t see how it would help anyhow.

She grimaced as he wiped the mess on his jeans. Look, what happened was awful, but you didn’t know what you were doing. I don’t think anyone would be able to handle it without reacting in the same way.

What if I kill you? How am I supposed to live with myself then?

You’re not going to kill me. We’re going to figure this out and you’re going to get control of it. There’s no other option.

Jason’s gaze became vacant as he stared off into space.

Sarah wiped the sweat from her face with the back of her sleeve, leaving a clean streak of honey colored skin. Where’s my tea? I feel like I've been chewing on powdered cotton balls.

He pointed to the coffee table.

She grabbed the glass and gulped it down. "Shew, I needed that."

Before pulling old papers out of the boxes, she looked up at him expectantly. Are you going to help, or stand there and watch?

The couch creaked as Jason plopped on it.

Shaking her head, she handed him the old photo albums, and began leafing through a stack of papers. They worked quietly for several minutes. Sarah had finished ransacking one of the smaller boxes and was working on another when she said, "Check this out. This looks