Xhazul's Box: The Rainbow Sphere

What others are saying about Xhazul's Box: The Rainbow Sphere

"This is a must read.... it will keep you on the edge of your seat...loved it!! (5-Star Review on Smashwords)

-- Vicky Hawkins

"This story is a real nail biter as the reader grows to care about these college students whose lives become entangled in a mysterious, deathly web woven by the sins of the fathers. I loved the way Castle managed to show the struggles of the heroine, Erinn Forester, who tries to maintain an appearance of normalcy even though she has every reason to believe she's losing her mind. The irony of the legend and the artifacts behind Xhzul's Box and the Rainbow Sphere as it relates to Erinn reels the reader in, and the twist at the end is enough to leave this reader looking forward to the sequel! -- (5-Star Review on Amazon)

-- BJ Wood

"I really enjoyed this story. The writing is great and the story brings the reader in and doesn't let them go until the story is finished. Great Job!! -- (5-Star Review on Amazon)

-- P.S. Winn

Xhazul’s Box: The Rainbow Sphere

by Jon Castle

Copyright © 2013 Jon Castle (Jonathan Gemoets)

Smashwords Edition

This book is completely fiction. Any characters, events, objects, places, names, places, and incidents are utilized in a fictitious manner and from the imagination of the author. Any similarity or resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or events are by pure coincidence.

All rights reserved. Published in the United States.

Credits for illustrations/editing:

Editor: Brooke Bowman

The Portal House: Stéphane ESSEAU.

Vortex/Portal: Stéphane ESSEAU.

The Rainbow Sphere (cover): Peter Wood.

Sphere in bonus section: Ben (Grasshopper3D).

Vartan (villain): Stéphane ESSEAU.

The Tentaculace: Tanya Rodgers

To Corena, Tamara, my editor for inspiring me to start writing, and all of my future readers.

Contents

Title Page

Copyright

Credits for Illustrations

Dedication

Prologue

Chapter 1: The Girl in the Tomb

Chapter 2: Truth and Dare

Chapter 3: Sea Salt

Chapter 4: Date Night

Chapter 5: Dinner and Something Else

Chapter 6: Fact or Fiction?

Chapter 7: The Portal House

Chapter 8: Searching and Entering

Chapter 9: Freaking Out?

Chapter 10: Voices

Chapter 11: The Clock Starts

Chapter 12: A Message from Beyond

Chapter 13: Drugs, Sex, and Crashes

Chapter 14: Trapped

Chapter 15: Writing is in the Air

Chapter 16: Monday Midterm Meltdown

Chapter 17: Discovery by Design

Chapter 18: Without a Trace

Chapter 19: The Truth Key

Chapter 20: Tying Loose Ends

Chapter 21: A Trip Down Memory Lane

Chapter 22: The Awakening

About this Author

Bonus Content

Connect with Jon Castle

Prologue

Everyone has a past; some are filled with broken dreams, others with sorrow, even others with regrets.  Rarely can one be content with the past even though we know deep within our psyche that it is what transforms our lives to mold us into our potential future selves.  It is known that yesterday's mistakes and failures perpetuate tomorrow's successes. The maxim One man's trash is another man's treasure can be applied to this theory if we consider that others may instinctively know how to profit from our mistakes and use our treasure to their advantage.  In fact, it is a key – a key to unlock a golden future by not making the same mistakes as that person made.  One can use that key, like one found on a map, to avoid taking the same path to tragedy and devastation and, instead, detour themselves onto an alternate path to a potentially better future. 

However, to obtain said key would require that someone took the wrong road in the first place.  That road can be one of many, but the most unfortunate path can be the one followed by those who have a boundless curiosity. Deciding whether to take the path that will unveil the truth or the one that keeps us in the dark is a fork in the road that must be tread with caution. A legend can be real or a tall tale passed down through generations, but those bold enough to seek out the truth may find that their curiosity will be an adventure without the proper map.

Chapter 1: Girl in the Tomb

Her screams for help echoed off the walls and pierced the darkness. Flickering lights. Dead silence. The time was 8:39 pm. on Day 5.

Chapter 2: Truth and Dare

The autumn leaves fell delicately onto the grass and streets, carried there by a cool breeze which danced within the trees so much as to create a symphony that only one who stopped to listen could really hear or enjoy. Commercial billboards screamed Halloween, an indication that candy, costumes, and haunted houses were just around the corner. Houses were decorated with air-filled Halloween figures, carved pumpkins, and orange lights that signified the coming holiday.

Erinn Forrester, a twenty-two year-old sophomore at the University of Southern Lake (USL), sat in her psychology class, brushing her long, blonde hair from her beautiful green and blue eyes that had made many a man melt with just one glance. She stood five feet five inches with a body that was complimented by voluptuous curves on her front and back; there have been plenty of days that she had made heads turn faster than the advertisement signs on the streets promising to save money by switching to a different car insurance company. She lived with her parents, Claire and Mark, and her brother, Phil, and sister, Ashley, both of whom were still in high school. She was a psychology major who was fascinated with the mind and how it works.

The small town of Southern Lake, Indiana had a population of around 2,500, not including the 6,000-plus students attending the university. It was a tight-knit community and everyone knew or had heard of everyone else. People talked, and muffled whispers were picked up by alert ears at hair salons and bars. Eyes were everywhere with the help of the neighborhood watch group.

If only they had seen it coming…

It was Friday, September 15, 2012, and classes had dissolved for the weekend. Erinn left class as she was putting her child psychology book into her backpack and met up with her best friend, Lisa Moore. Lisa was Erinn’s height, with a dark complexion, and even darker hair straightened to her shoulders.

Hey, girl! You looking fresh today! You got another date with Brian tonight? asked Lisa in her excited demeanor. Lisa had been Erinn’s best friend since fifth grade. Maybe that sounded like a cliché, but Lisa had always been there for Erinn. Many thought of her as Erinn’s other half, and whether or not that was a good thing depended on the perceiver.

Thanks, Lisa, replied Erinn, and yes, we have our third date tonight. We are going out to dinner and then headin’ to the movies.

Girl, you like him! exclaimed Lisa, makes kissing noises with her puckered, red lips. Tell me somethin’. Have you and him... you know...? asked Lisa, thrusting her hips forward and aft to symbolize the metaphor for the birds and the bees. Erinn couldn’t help but giggle and laugh while shaking her head as if to think it was absurd of Lisa to ask such a question.

Maybe... ha ha, chuckled Erinn. I mean, he’s cute, muscular, funny, charming...

Yeah, yeah, yeah, chimed in Lisa. Tell me... was it big? Or small? Or huge like Daniel Kessler’s?

Erinn, stumbling to find the words, put up both of her hands and twisted them around an invisible cylinder saying, Let’s just say I needed both of my hands! And with that, both girls burst out into laughter and walked to their cars just three minutes away while discussing the usual day’s gossip. Once they reached their cars that were parked next to each other, Lisa told Erinn to call her once she was done with her movie. Erinn agreed, and she got into her car, turned the key in the ignition, and headed up the street to the bridge that linked her house to the University.

It was a fifteen minute drive to her house from the University, which she made three times a week. The loneliness and silence were always broken up by the Pandora app on her iPhone. Through her peripheral vision, rows upon rows of trees wearing autumn colors became a blur viewed from the Volkswagen she drove at more than 65 miles per hour before she was forced to slow down. She noticed that cars were coming to a halt before the bridge as it was that time again.

About once a week Erinn found herself caught at the opening of the draw bridge. This allowed river passage for cargo vessels and other boats while bringing cars to a stop as if they had nowhere else to be. It was Erinn’s lucky day as the boats were over halfway under the bridge. Music blaring, head swinging from side to side, she looked left out of boredom. In her direct line of sight was a medium sized, yellow house with blue shutters. The curtains were peeled back with a face staring through.

It’s face.

Erinn did a double take, but it had disappeared. She wondered, for a brief second, if she was losing her mind.

Here’s where it gets crazy: Not really.

Erinn thought back to what she had heard through the grapevine about the legend over the years:

That same face had been mimicked, as well as talked and whispered about, for thirty-two years. Many told of seeing it for only a few seconds before it vanished… but the legend went farther than that. The police had been contacted many times, the local paper had received a myriad of letters, and the local television station had received just as many calls regarding these paranormal sightings. Yet, the reports concluded that all stories were the result of pranks, drugs, and alcohol. Were the reports right?

Over the years, the legend had been told two different ways. According to the first story, a voodoo doctor named Muhammed Portalle from the Caribbean killed his wife after finding out that she bore another man’s child. Ever since then, he was cursed to live as a ghost among us. There was a problem with the story though: No one had ever found his wife’s body. The last time she was seen was the night of her disappearance when she was working at the local 7-Eleven store. Some said he burned it, others thought he buried it and hid it. The point was that no one had found it, and no one had even seen the voodoo doctor since that day thirty-two years ago, or so they thought.

The second version of the legend contended that an alien or devil-like