Prologue

To my readers: I hope you like this book. This is my 1st book down the horror genre with magic and romance all wrapped around it.  It is a combination of Dark Dreams and Dream Walking…  Enjoy!

Prologue

 

  It was a crowded night that summer in Savannah Ga, with the tourists and locals spilling onto the sidewalks from the many restaurants that lined the famous Riverwalk. People had been coming to Savannah every year for the ghost hunts and shopping. People roamed in and out of the clubs laughing and talking without a clue that evil lurked so close. Cabs zipped by Norman without a care. Norman knew things were different because he would get his dues today. He had walked into the crappy thrift shop at the end of the street and drawn toward a bookcase the held old books.

  A few with no title and others were in different languages with missing pages. That’s when Norman saw a spell needed to exact his revenge. Norman threw a ratty ten-dollar bill on the counter and ran out before anyone tried to stop him. He would get his. He had passed an older man dressed in a black ratty old top hat and tails driving a carriage yelling out his offers for rides for young lovers for only twenty bucks. Which made it easier for Norman to blend into the background because no one could see his pain. 

The clueless people ignored the fat man with his long greasy black hair, guy waddling, down the darkened street with his hands stuffed in his tight jeans. The wind blew as Norman watched the leaves and dirt swirling around in the air. He almost dropped the book he had bought at the end of the river walk.  Norman made it to his rundown apartment building. He took his time climbing the broken stairs leading to his crappy apartment. He heard the crying baby down the hallway, and he knew the crackhead next door to him was home.

Jack stumbled out of his apartment and heading to rehab. He was clean for about six months holding down a job as an Uber driver. He found a woman; the rest was history. The baby came nine months later causing the yelling matches to start. Jack made his way back to the streets to make money, but he didn’t get too far because it went up his nose or in his veins. Norman had enough one night, and he beat on the door for them to be quiet. When the door cracked open the smell of a dirty diaper smacked Norman in the face which caused him to gag. He could still remember the urge to puke. He wasn’t surprised when the woman with dried tears on her face told him to fuck off and slammed the door. 

The asshole of a landlord had Norman’s power cut off to force him out. So, since his power had been cut off a week ago, but he was making do with the fireplace, and since his mom always told him any idiot could cook a hot dog on a stick, and that is what he did. On the front door was an eviction sticker. “Really?” He thought. That would not stop him, not by a long shot. Norman flipped out a small switchblade out of his coat pocket. Making a long slice along the notice that kept him out.

Norman jammed his key in the door wiggled it up and down and kicked the door jamb with his muddy boots. His one-room apartment was dark and cold. His ratty mattress sat on the bare floor, and it held a pile of his old clothes that hadn’t seen a washer in months. It was because that heartless bitch took everything when she left him. She had found herself another stallion, and his name was Jeff. Norman thought of the night he came home to find nothing left in the apartment. 

He paid no mind to the smell of stale beer and sweat that would have made anyone gag. The stale air mixed with the labored breathing of the thirty-year-old nobody. The sound of it could’ve driven anyone insane. Norman would make everyone pay. He waddled around the room setting up everything, and he had to make sure it was done by midnight. 

Norman made his way toward his closet and pulled out the bucket of cow’s blood. He had Jerry get it for him from the slaughterhouse. Norman could still see the look on the foreman’s face when he had ordered it. 

 He had to giggle at the thought of disgust was on his face, but he still filled his order. Going toward the only wall in his apartment he took a black marker from his holey jeans and went about making his first sigil. The copper smell filled his nostrils making the room almost unbearable as he jammed his meaty fist in the bucket spilling its blood on the floor. Norman made the four points with his fingertips. He muttered to himself that he had to make sure everything was right. 

Norman drew his fingers across the wall connecting the square and sigil together. He stopped for a second to admire the blood dripping down the wall as he began the chant. He almost reached out to taste the blood running down the wall, but something stopped him. The noise in Norman’s mind became louder and louder making it harder to think or breathe. Punching himself in the head to quiet the voices, Norman finished the ritual that would bring the demon into this world for him to control.