Into the darkness

INTO THE DARKNESS…

When evil is all around,

can good still survive?

©Wendy Maddocks 2003

Into The Darkness

Smashwords edition

Copyright Wendy Maddocks 2003

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.

Other works by Wendy Maddocks

Stand alone novels

Twisted evil

Into the darkness

Short story collections

The thrill of the Chase

A Shade too young

The Shades of Northwood series

Running shoes

Circle of arms

Unfinished business

Kiss at midnight

Circle of the Fallen series

Angels of America

Poetry collections

When I was young

Before the dawn

Screenplays

RISK

Non-fiction

Student: dazed and confused

PROLOGUE

The girl was running – or rather limping – through the woods, painfully aware of what was following her. As she glanced behind her to see how much distance was left between them – not much, not enough – she tripped over a fallen branch but instantly picked herself up, ignoring the sting of a badly cut knee as she pressed on. Her pursuers were gaining ground, silently closing in; they looked like ordinary people who were dressed entirely in black, but their eyes seemed hollow. It didn’t matter how fast she ran or how hard she tried to hold them back - they just kept coming for her. They would get what they wanted. It was obvious nothing would stop them in their quest but she had to keep trying. This was the first thing she had run from, and hopefully it would be the last. The feeling of helplessness and guilt was both overwhelming and unshakable.

A feeling she had never noticed before – fear – pushed her onwards, kept her going when her energy was low. Rushes of adrenaline kept her heart and legs pumping when they were about to give out. There was a tiny clearing of trees in the middle distance and she sped towards it, working on energy back-up. Her breath came in short, sharp gasps as she struggled to keep her lungs full. But the further she ran, the farther away the clearing seemed to be.

She was tired.

Tired of running away from something that would get her in the end; tired of fighting fights that didn’t really matter – even if she did emerge the victor. There would always come a fight she couldn’t win -and now maybe she had found it. She had been trying to evade them for three days straight. And now, they had truly caught her, after chasing her for so long.

A bolt from a Taser brought the girl to her knees, but she didn’t stop moving for a second. She still tried to get away by shuffling on all fours, though there was no point to it. They had her now; she could see their cold, impassive eyes as she lay on her back taking the punishment they so coolly delivered. She fought back against unconsciousness as at least 10,000 volts of electricity surged through her body. Another fight she wouldn’t win.

But she wasn’t ready to give in. Not yet.

* * * * * * * *

Amber-Louise awoke with a start, idly looking at the broken watch still strapped to her wrist. It had long since stopped working, but while this was simply a mild annoyance for most people, it was a reminder that time had stopped for her. It was strange to think that the world was still going without her. Even stranger to think that people were still living their lives without her.

Rekuctantly clawing her way out of the comfortable embrace of sleep, Amber-Louise climbed out of bed and splashed some water on her face in the small bathroom. She then dressed in the clothes that had been draped over the chairs, unwilling to think about her dream. She didn’t want, or even need, to recall it – it was a recurring nightmare. The same one she had had every night for nearly four months. The nightmare often went on for much longer, but she had never felt the pain tapping through her conscious mind before. It troubled her to be replaying the same series of events every night in her head, but she knew that the nightmares wouldn’t stop until the waking one was over.

Other people would wonder what she had seen or done to give her these constant nightmares. Other people would ask why she had been captured and hidden here. But Amber-Louise Tully wasn’t other people.

Amber-Louise Tully was a witch.

Over her years, she had learnt that it was never wise to ask questions. Well, she had been taught it but she had never learnt it. She had always asked questions, but had soon learnt that there often weren’t any answers. In this situation, however, she hadn’t asked any questions in case she got the answers. Everything she needed to know had been told to her, and she wasn’t sure she wanted to know even that much. She knew she was facing an impossible task – quite a few of them actually, but Amber had never been the kind of girl who’d give up without a fight.

A white witch, she used her powers for good. To protect the innocent, she thought. That’s, like, my mission statement. A powerful warlock, called Liatruz, had come to town. He was very practised in dark magicks but, more than anything, he had pure evil intent. That in itself was very rare and Amber-Louise was very glad of that fact. Liatruz didn’t want anyone to quash his plans, and as a member of the Sisterhood, she was the only one who stood even a chance of doing that. Naturally, the warlock had to take preventative measures to stop that and had wound up with two options. The first was to kill her but he hadn’t gone for that one – probably ‘coos it’d be over too quick – but the second one which was to incarcerate her in a place where her magick would be no good.

A sound at the thick, metal door made her turn on her heel. It didn’t open – it never opened except to give her clean clothes once a week – but a light breakfast of cereals, yoghurt and juice was pushed through the tiny hatch. She stared at it for a moment, not really wanting to eat it, and wondered if they had put poison in it. Why am I thinking that? Then she began to pull the paper lid off the yoghurt spoon and dug her plastic spoon in. Yoghurt had been her favourite food in years past, but now she could barely stand the sight of it.

As she sat there on the floor, she began thinking thoughts she hated. Thoughts about her experiences here in this magick-proof cell; thoughts about everything she had experienced before this had happened; memories of the people she had been forced to leave behind. Thoughts that made her hurt. Made her sad. Made her angry.

Her Taser-induced coma had lasted a full 10 weeks, and by her count she had been here for around six months. There was no way to regain that lost half year as time spells only stretched to a week at best but she promised herself she would make up for it when she got out. When, not if. She would get out (somehow) and she would do all the things she should’ve done before. It’s funny how something like this puts things in perspective. An intense workout every morning had kept her focused. At first, it had stopped her from going stir crazy – it was good to have a bit of routine – but now she did it for a reason.

The cell was painted white. It reminded her of a hospital, which wasn’t a pleasant thought as she hated hospitals. Evil places. People went in and sometimes never came back out. That rang true on so many levels. No matter how comfortable Liatruz’ minions had tried to make it, with plastic tables and padded chairs; it still felt like some kind of prison. It seemed like a sick joke that they could make this place seem so un-evil and still be so mean and unfeeling. The shell was made of sheet steel which zinged when it was hit, or when Amber threw her cereal bowl against it. Not that she did that much anymore – just when her frustration level sky-rocketed. The steel compound was encased, which was virtually impossible to penetrate, and then the whole thing had been enchanted to ensure that her white magick would be of absolutely no use. Amber-Louise had tried every trick in the book in her first few attempts to escape, but had quickly found out that it was no good.

So she stopped.

But by no means had she forgotten.

Her thoughts drifted to the things she had done and learnt before she was brought here. Some of these flashed through her head so fast that she barely even registered them. She had always known she was a witch, always known that she had to use that power for good; ever since she was a child, though she sometimes felt like little more than that now. She had, over the last few years, used her magick to wipe out the lurking evil in her town. She had brought down a few cults of wannabe Goths; fought and destroyed a couple of demons, even stopped a ritual sacrifice last year; just general nastiness. That responsibility – to protect innocent people – had always been a big part of her, and she would do it until it killed her. Yet, it was more than just a responsibility or a duty it was… well, something she wanted to do. The witch wasn’t prepared to let Liatruz stop her from doing that. Amber-Louise had learned that she was a member of the Sisterhood just a couple of weeks before the warlock had come to town and kidnapped her. Unlike others, she had not tried to deny her calling. It was a big thing – trying to save everyone and stay alive at the same time.

The only person that knew she was a witch was her lifelong best friend, Alex. Leaning back in her chair, she called up a mental image of his face; those hazel, puppy-dog eyes, his untidy blond hair and the tiny gold bar she had watched being shot through his eyebrow last birthday. He was always ready to listen when she wanted to moan about the stresses and strains of being a witch. He always helped her out when she was on a mission. They were only a few of the reasons they hadn’t fallen out, but she tried to shield him from the worst parts of her job.

Then there was her dad, her only immediate family. He loved her – there was no doubting that fact – but he didn’t have any idea what was going on in his daughters’ life. Of course, not wondering why she seemed to need so many new clothes or wanting to know why she came in and went out at all hours made