Dawn of Night (Bk. 1) | ✓

Prologue

FEBRUARY 27TH
4 YEARS AGO

HOME WAS SUPPOSED TO BE a peaceful place. Relaxing, gentle and warm with love and safety. And it was for Celeste Allen, living in Florida with her mother Christy, and her boyfriend Michael. Their simple two story house was all of those things. 

Until it wasn't.

∞

THE TREMORS FROM her screams shook the silent household. Her cries of horror echoing with the fall wind, vibrating against the wooden walls. No single soul could have guessed such sounds of agony could spill from a young little girl like herself.

The vocal cords within her throat began to shred, her voice cracking. The sobs that poured from her lips trembled through her body entirely. As her brown eyes strained in and out of focus, the heartstrings within her chest snapped, breaking her tormented heart. The crack echoed, anyone with ears heard it's finality within a mile radius.

Her mother's murderers relished in the sound.

Celeste felt the air from her lungs leave her body as it grew weak. Her knees shattering as she collapsed to the hardwood floor beneath her. With the only strength she had left in her body, her boney fingers clutched at her milk chocolate brown strands, ripping some of the roots from her skull as she screamed. The never-ending pool of tears cascading from her fear stricken eyes, had yet to cease since they began.

As Celeste's muscles began to ache, her body finally depleting of energy, her body slumped forward, her eyes training themselves on the mangled body only five feet from her. The wooden front door hung wide open, streaks of blood ran along the inside, while a pool absorbed into the welcome mat.

The mauled and crumpled form lay disfigured and torn to shreds just outside the doorway. Her mother, Christy Allen, was no longer recognizable, even to her own daughter.

Thick red liquid continuously poured from multiple slashes in her mother's torso, Christy's neck shred open and butchered. Blood clotted in the tangled mess of locks that had once mirrored Celeste's.

Pale was the skin of her lifeless mother, a blue hue pigment was visible from where Celeste sat, the lips, though barely visible, were the same shade, with a tint of purple. A leg was twisted awkwardly, the neck had been visibly snapped with what was left of it. But fortunately for Celeste's sanity, Christy's head wasn't fully facing toward her.

While the seconds ticked on, the scene Celeste had witnessed minutes ago continued to replay on repeat. It was as if a movie were playing in the back of her mind, a never ending horror film she couldn't stop herself from watching. Over, and over again. It was tortuous, and Celeste was drowning herself in it.

Christy's screams had awoken Celeste from her dreamless sleep, jolting Celeste awake as if she were having a nightmare-- if only she knew her nightmare had only just begun.

Celeste scrambled out of bed, first gazing out her window from the second floor of their two story Victorian home. The streets were otherwise dark, besides the occasional street lamp giving light to the dark night, lining along the pavement. 

The road they lived on had been empty as Celeste gazed around, squinting out and around her and her neighbor's yard. Celeste found nothing, and while she finally managed to get her heart rate under control, the distinct sound of a body crumbling to the ground caught her attention.

Celeste tugged her gaze downward, her eyes latching onto something far out in the distance. A pair of red eyes managed to snag her attention, the eyes visible from a couple hundred meters away. The glow of their beady eyes managed to stretch across an open field, shimmering a terrifying red gleam at the edge of the forest. It was dominating, threatening even from behind a sea of houses.

The heart beating in her chest sped up, hammering against her rib cage as horror and panic rendered Celeste motionless, paralyzing the young teen with fear. That was the last silent moment in the house she called home.

A deep, murky growl from below swung Celeste's gaze downward, latching themselves on the two bodies at her doorstep.

A large black figure, shaped like an animal Celeste had only witnessed in horror stories and fairytales, was hunched over, the distinct sound of gnawing on open flesh and raw bone ringing in Celeste's ears.

Whatever it was, it was visibly eating the other figure with it. From Celeste's viewpoint, the larger body of the two seemed to be shaped as an abnormally large wolf, the other figure barely half the size. Celeste managed to catch a glimpse at what the wolf was eating, but she could only see mangled flesh. No human or animal body parts were recognizable.

The pair shifted and at that moment, Celeste's blood ran far too cold.

The gore brought a wave of sickness within that went far beyond any physical retching. The sick smell that coated her lungs as a rancid tar, felt thick and heavy, weighing down her limbs as Celeste breathed in ragged air. It was eating a human.

Celeste gagged, hardly managing to wallow it down as she, at long last, caught a peak at the face of the wolf's prey for the night.

A moment of silence was all it took for Celeste to register the mangled body, bloodied face and soulless eyes. Although lifeless, the brown in the victim's eyes were too recognizable to forget. They matched her own, after all. 

Celeste began to fill their once peaceful home with screams, and cries of horror and loss. Once it started, it didn't stop. The neighbors woke, the paramedics and police were dialed, but Celeste didn't. Stop.

She was never aware of how long she'd been shouting, crying out for her mother, nor how she managed to scramble her way downstairs. Her only conscious thought was of her mother, not even of the agony it caused her.

Celeste stayed on her knees, begging, shouting, cursing, praying for her mother's return, but the effort was futile. Useless, and she knew it, but it didn't stop her from trying.

Christy's life had already been taken; the deed was done, and the murderer was gone.

Celeste's mind was frazzled, jumbled with sorrow, regret, guilt, anger, and confusion.

"Momma, p-please," Celeste plea bubbled from her damp lips sometime later, a crowd pooling on the other end of the street. All wide eyed, a hand covering the gasp on their frightened expressions. "W-wake up-p."

Sirens sounded in the distance, and while she should have felt relieved, Celeste felt nothing. The tears had stopped; there was nothing left as her energy was now depleted.

As the emergency vehicles drew closer, sirens louder, Celeste grew weaker. Her body was beginning to shut itself down, and she was more than ready to succumb to it.

Wings thrashed in the distance, fluttering to a halt as footsteps padded behind the fourteen year old. Concern etched along the man's features as sorrow filled his heart. He felt as if he had failed her, but there was no room for guilt. Not now.

Dropping to one knee, Michael's strong and steady arms gently wrapped around Celeste. He whispered soft and soothing words, pouring his heart through them, praying it would fill her empty one.

Celeste snuggled closer to Michael, calling to her mother in soft sobs as black dots blurred the edges of her vision. Once it began, it didn't stop until it sucked her under all at once, consuming her into unconsciousness. Michael's murmuring words were the last things she heard before Celeste let the darkness devour her.

"You're safe now, Paulo Daemonium."