In the quiet of the forest, the darkest fears are born. The people of Dunballan, harbour a dark secret. A secret more terrible than the Beast that stalks the dense forests of Dunballan. A secret that holds David McCavendish, last in a long line of Lairds, in its unbreakable grip. It’s down to Sally, David’s lover, to free David from the sinister clutches of the Beast. But, with the whole town against her, she must ally herself with an ancient woodland force and trace Dunballan’s secret back to its bitter origins. Those origins lie within the McCavendish family history, and a blasphemous heresy that stretches back to the beginning of time. Some truths are too terrible to face, and the darkest of these lie waiting for Sally, in the Quiet Places. ©️ Crystal Lake Publishing
もっと見るI'm Richard Carter, a writer for a newspaper, magazine, and web novel. I write romance novels that you may come across everywhere – stories where a guy meets a girl in a really unexpected way and they fall in love in the end. However, what I'm about to share with you is not a novel. At least, if it were a novel, it wouldn't be about me; it's about my annoying roommate.
It all started four months ago when I was having a meeting with my editor at the publishing company. It was supposed to be just like any other regular meeting I had with him, discussing what to write next. While waiting for him, I found myself in the office lounge where employees were taking their coffee breaks. They offered me something to drink, but I politely declined. I decided to utilize the time to continue writing my ongoing web novel. It had garnered quite a good number of readers, and they were eagerly anticipating the next update later today. Just as I finished writing a chapter, my editor returned and invited me into his office room.
The moment I saw him, something began to bug me. My editor is usually an easygoing person, always greeting me enthusiastically whenever we meet. But today, he appeared rather dark, and it started to worry me. "Well, well, here's my long-time partner in crime, Richard," he greeted me. His name is Henry, and he has been working at this company for almost 25 years. He was the one who scouted me.
"Hey Henry how have you been?" I asked. "Been better, but that's not important. We have a more pressing matter to discuss, Richard," he said, his face serious. "Is everything okay?" I inquired. "Well, our rival company has an ongoing novel that's generating a lot of buzz. Everyone who reads it is talking about it, and it's boosting their reader numbers. I know you have your own style of writing, but isn't it time for you to challenge yourself in a different genre?" he asked, his eyes filled with expectation. I wasn't expecting this, so I needed some time to process it. "Maybe you're right. How much time can you give me? I may need a break for a month or two," I finally responded.
His eyes lit up, thinking I agreed to write a different type of novel. But what he couldn't see was the whirlwind of thoughts running through my head. Perhaps I had been in my comfort zone for too long.
He agreed to grant me a month-long break, and I left his office, knowing that my real battle was just beginning. While I had agreed to venture into something new, my mind was blank, and I knew a month wasn't a long time. I hurried back to my apartment, a small single-room space where everything I needed to survive was within arm's reach or just a step away.Although I published my novels in newspapers and magazines, the pay wasn't substantial, and sometimes I had to take on part-time jobs to make ends meet and pay my rent on time. So, taking a break meant working extra shifts at my part-time job.
This was what I would call "total slump mode." I couldn't even continue writing my web novel. Several days had already passed since the promised update date, but every attempt to write felt futile and nonsensical. I needed to find a solution quickly, or else I would be a homeless writer, unable to express myself properly.
The weight of it all made me anxious, which is why, in an attempt to escape my circumstances even for a short while, I agreed to meet up with my friend whom I've known since high school.His name is Cain Anderson and he has achieved great success in life, unlike my current situation. He holds the position of stand-in-CEO in one of the leading companies that encompasses various businesses. While he's not the actual CEO, he handles all the meetings and attends parties on behalf of the company.
He once jokingly told me that his boss must either be extremely unattractive, unable to show his face to the public, or too old to move a single muscle. Well, having known him for a long time, I find this job to be a perfect fit for his charismatic character. He is remarkably outgoing and has a remarkable way with words.
He can effortlessly transform the angriest person in the world into the calmest individual solely through his eloquence. I truly admire this aspect of his personality, which often inspires the qualities of my main male characters.
Occasionally, he invites me out for a drink, and each time I find some excuse to decline his invitation. However, today was different. I was desperate for a change of scenery, my head throbbing from incessant thinking.
We met at one of the finest bars in town. He stood there, waiting for me, dressed impeccably in a sharp suit, already commanding attention. It felt a bit awkward for me to enter that picture looking less than attractive, but appearances hardly mattered at this point. My mind was consumed by thoughts of my next novel and the complete lack of ideas.
Anyway, I greeted him with a simple "Hey, Cain." He stood up from his seat at the counter, briefly hugged me, and exclaimed, "Hey, man! It feels like forever since I last saw you. How have you been?" His energy was as high as ever, which was both a reason I cherished our friendship since high school and sometimes an excuse to decline his drinking invitations.
"You know, I'm working on a new novel, so I've been pretty busy," I replied. "But, man, you don't look quite okay. Are you alright? What's going on?" he asked. I despised how he always managed to read my mind like an open book.
"Well, you caught me red-handed. Let's grab a drink first." We headed to a VIP room, where it seemed my friend sensed the gravity of my situation. I was truly fortunate to have him as a friend. He poured us whiskey and looked at me, his face filled with curiosity.
"So, the long story short, I'm in a slump right now. My editor, Henry, informed me that our newspaper needs a new kind of novel. Apparently, our rival newspaper just published a captivating novel that's creating quite a buzz," I explained.
"Oh, man, that's tough. I know how much you love writing, and if it weren't for Henry, you would never even consider publishing your work and living as a writer. So, what do you need now?" he inquired.
"That's the one thing I really don't know, Cain. It's not like I can place an ad in the newspaper for lost inspiration," I joked.
"THAT'S IT!" he exclaimed. I was taken aback and asked, "What is it?" He was overflowing with excitement.
"You should place an ad in the newspaper, something like 'Please help me, I've lost my inspiration,' or whatever," he suggested. I burst into laughter, my stomach aching from the amusement. "That's ridiculous.Who would contact me saying, 'Hey, I found your inspiration, is this yours?' It's not a lost pet, Cain." His ideas were always absurd, but thankfully, they made me laugh, something I hadn't been able to do in the past few days.
"Hey, what's there to lose? You post the ad, and who knows, it might actually help you," he persisted. I began to reconsider, but it wasn't an easy decision for me.
"It's easy for you to say, Cain. You have a stable job. But I need to work extra shifts at my part-time job just to cover my rent this month. I don't have that much money to place an ad," I explained.
His eyes lit up at my response—I recognized that mischievous look from our high school days. "Don't worry, friend. I'll take care of it. Now, let's just enjoy our drinks," he declared.
Seemingly, I had indulged in a bit too much alcohol the previous night. My hangover refused to let me rise from bed. Oh, the joys of hangovers! Every time I find myself in this sorry state, I make solemn promises to never touch alcohol again. Yet, here I lie, dehydrated like a zombie, plagued by the worst headache imaginable.
Just as I was feeling at my worst, my phone started ringing. “Of course, it had to choose the worst possible moment “. How did that little wonder end up there? I thought to myself and lazily drag myself to see who was calling. It was my part-time job's manager.
"Damn, I had a shift today," I muttered, quickly trying to sound as sick as possible. I picked up the phone and coughed, “Hello”. "Richard, there must be a good reason for you not being at work right now," he said, his tone filled with suspicion. I coughed harder, "I'm sorry, Bill. I've come down with terrible flu, and it seems like I have a high fever," I lied, doing my best to act convincingly. After hearing my condition, Bill's voice softened, "Oh, in that case, take a few days off. See you next week. Take care."
Bill is a nice fella, and it’s a relief that I didn’t get fired, but losing that shift meant losing out on a lot of money. “Well, what else could happen in this situation, right? No job, no money, no idea, no inspiration. growl Great, at least I have my appetite. There is no way this could go down further," I chuckled.
Suddenly, someone slipped something into the opening for mail on the door. I opened it and to my dismay, it was an eviction notice. It stated that this house is soon to be demolished, and those who live there must move out of the apartment within one month.Since then, almost three weeks had passed, and I tried my best to avoid thinking about everything that was happening to me. But it wouldn't simply disappear overnight; I knew I had been delaying the inevitable.
Then it happened, the day I received a phone call where my life changed drastically. It was just another ordinary day. I had finished my shift and was heading to the supermarket to pick up something to eat. Suddenly, my phone rang, displaying an unknown number. Curiosity got the better of me, and I answered the call.
A voice, not easily distinguishable whether it was a man or a woman, greeted me, "Hello, is this the writer who lost his inspiration?" I was taken aback, almost thinking it could be some sort of new phone prank.
However, at that moment, I remembered my conversation with Cain. He had mentioned something about taking care of things for me. Could it be that he had actually placed an ad in the newspaper, and someone had responded? How is that possible, right?
I smiled to myself. "Yes, you can say that," I replied cautiously.
"Oh, that's great. You can call me Haze. I saw your ad, and it caught my attention. I'm currently looking for a roommate. Do you have something to write? If so, I'll provide you with my address and the entrance passcode," Haze explained. “Sorry, I’m outside. Can you send me a message?” I asked. “Sure, I will send you a message then.” Haze nonchalantly replied.
I was dumbstruck. It seemed almost too good to be true. Whoever this Haze person was, I didn't have much to lose by giving it a try, right? As we concluded the call, Haze added, "By the way, it's Miss Haze."
"Thank you, Miss Haze. I'll see you soon then," I responded, ending the call. I stood in the same spot for a while, trying to process what had just happened."What just happened?" I muttered to myself in disbelief. My phone buzzed, notifying me of a new message. It was the address and passcode Ms. Haze had promised me. I couldn't believe it. Was I really going to give this a shot?
Perhaps, Miss Haze is a kind-hearted soul in need of some company, considering she had reached out to me after seeing the newspaper ad. I made a mental note to ask Cain about the details of the newspaper and when the ad had been published.
Without wasting any time, I dialed Cain's number. He answered after the first ring, but before I could say a word, he cut me off with a hurried "I'm in a meeting right now" and ended the call. Moments later, a message from him appeared on my screen: "Hey, what's up?"
"I can't believe you actually placed that ad in the newspaper, Cain," I replied to his message adding surprised emoji. "But never mind that for now. Can you tell me which newspaper it was and when the ad ran?"
"It was the newspaper where your novels are published, right below your latest one," he responded. I couldn't help but be amazed by Cain's ability to keep surprising me. I quickly headed to the local parlor to pick up yesterday's newspaper.
Back at home, I packed my essentials into a suitcase and a backpack, making sure to include my laptop and other important writing tools. With the deadline looming, I began boxing up the rest of my belongings. I knew I had to leave this apartment in just three days, regardless of how my meeting with Miss Haze went. Exhausted, I finally finished packing at 3 o’clock in the morning. It was time to get some rest before going to Miss Haze's place.
I’m having a hard time waking up, can’t keep my eyes open. Lately, the alarms seemed to have lost their magic touch, struggling to rouse me from my exhaustion. Today, I need to go to Miss Haze’s place at 10 am, and it’s 8 and a half now, I knew I had to get myself ready. Fortunately, I had already packed my essentials before, which makes it easy for me.
I needed to hop on the subway, which would take approximately 30 minutes. The silver lining was that Miss Haze's apartment was conveniently located, just a short 5-minute walk from the nearest subway station. Nestled close to the bustling city center, it seemed like the perfect place to call home.
Memories flashed through my mind as I recalled passing by that neighborhood once before, back when I had participated in a writing contest and claimed third place.
I checked the time once more and realized I needed to hurry to make it before the subway leaves so I arrived on time. Thankfully, the subway was relatively pleasant as the rush hour was coming to an end, resulting in fewer crowds. As I exited the station, I retrieved my phone to search for the exact address. With the newspaper and note in hand, I embarked on a short, five-minute walk to my destination.
Soon enough, I found myself standing before an impressive luxury 15-floor apartment building. I glanced around to confirm that I hadn't made a mistake. The sheer size of the building was awe-inspiring, matched only by the presence of the security staff stationed at the entrance.
With a mix of hesitation and anticipation, I approached them and shared the passcode provided by Miss Haze. Their stoic expressions softened as they entered the code into their computer, and they granted me entry into the apartment.
I made my way to the 15th floor and stood before one of the two doors indicated by the address, which was supposed to be Miss Haze's apartment. As I knocked, there was no immediate response. Nervousness started creeping in, and my mind became flooded with various negative thoughts. Was this all a prank? Did she forget I was coming today? Could this be the wrong address altogether? The uncertainty weighed heavily on me. I knocked once more, this time with a slightly longer, and decided to leave if there was no answer.
A few minutes passed as I anxiously waited, just as I was about to turn and leave, the door creaked open, revealing a disheveled woman who appeared to have just woken up based on her messy hair and pajamas. She appeared to be around my age, and I couldn't help but wonder why someone living in such an expensive apartment would need a roommate. However, I pushed that thought aside and tightened my grip on the newspaper and note I was holding before asking, "Is this the house of Miss Haze?"
EPILOGUERight now:Sally stood at the sink, staring at the butcher, with a cup of water in her hands. She was frozen into inaction by the sheer weight of her memories and tiredness. She didn’t have the energy to move.She knew she should bring the water to the boy on the sofa, maybe find more blankets and some paracetamol for his fever. He would die soon, like his mother, if she didn’t help him, but then so would most of the townsfolk.Sally was exhausted. She had been worn out just looking after David, but now she had a whole town to look after. More than two thousand people, all of them in the same state as David. She fretted constantly about David—she had to leave him alone for considerable lengths of time, and she worried about his safety. She felt guilty for abandoning him so much, but she couldn’t abandon everyone else in Dunballan either, not after what she’d done to them.Sometimes Sally fantasised about having help, a friend to share her duties or even a small group of v
CHAPTER 21Sally smelled the glade before she actually stepped into it. Its scents were lush, primal, and sharp. There were deep mossy undertones, like the bark of the seven ancient elm trees whose thick trunks encircled the glade. There were high fragrant notes, like the pollen and the wild flowers that grew all across the clearing. There were plants here that had flourished for millennia, plants that couldn’t be found anywhere else on the planet.Sally couldn’t help but catch her breath when she entered. The rest of the forest was often noisy, filled with a plethora of sounds. There were the raucous bird calls, the grunts and howls of the creatures that fought and foraged on the forest floor. There was the sound of the wind in the branches and the occasional rain on the leaves, and there were the thousand other unexplained noises that haunt such a wild and untamed territory.The glade was a different matter altogether. There was hardly any noise here at all. It was as if all sound
CHAPTER 20Eight days ago:Sally was more certain now. Certain where she was going and certain she was doing the right thing.This certainty didn’t come from Hettie, Sally was sure of that. Hettie was nowhere to be seen or heard. This certainty came from her love for David. She’d gone to extraordinary lengths for him, but she was going to have him back. She was going to free him from the Beast. Sally had forsaken all her doubt. As strange as all this might seem, she knew why she was doing it.She was deep in the forest where it was darker and cooler. The light was much dimmer as Sally stepped out of the undergrowth and approached the stream. The stream would take her to the glade where she was ultimately going.Sally lingered by the undergrowth for a moment. There was one little thing that was playing on her mind, something she had to clear up before she could go through with everything she and Hettie had planned.She stopped and turned back to look at the thicket of shrub. The d
CHAPTER 19Sally looked up from the journal. Her eyes were tired from staring at so much closely written handwriting, and her back ached from being curled up in the same position too long.She had been reading the journal for hours without a break. The fire in the grate was nothing but embers. She stretched her legs and back, and blinked her eyes. Everything in the room looked suddenly strange and unreal. She’d been so engrossed in Matthew’s account of his out-of-body experience, it was as if she was there with him. Putting down the journal and coming back to earth was disconcerting. It took her a moment to readjust.If she’d read the journal before coming to Dunballan, Sally would have considered it either pure fantasy or deluded ravings, but after everything she’d seen, she was more inclined to believe it. It certainly answered a lot of her questions, but it threw up just as many. The current volume was the last of the journals, but there were a few more entries. Perhaps the answe
CHAPTER 18Ten days ago:Sally felt furious and betrayed, but she was also eaten up with curiosity. She’d been kept in the dark far too long—she needed some answers.The last few months she’d been living through a situation that seemed ludicrous, impossible even, if you spent a few minutes thinking rationally about it. It was as though she’d fallen into some waking dream where all natural logic had been suspended.Sally wasn’t certain why she’d simply accepted everything and then learned to cope with it. The remoteness of Dunballan probably had a lot to do with it, as did the isolation she felt. Sally had no one with whom she could discuss what was happening. She had no friends in Dunballan and had lost touch with her friends in London. She hardly spoke to anyone in her family, and she doubted any of them would help even if she reached out to them.There was only David, and David had closed himself off. He was too embarrassed by what he was going through and possibly a little guil
CHAPTER 17Eight days ago:Sally had only been this deep into the forest once before. That was yesterday. She’d had David with her then, or rather his mindless body.Hettie had shown her the way that time. Whispering to her from the coppice, bending the undergrowth to point her in the right direction. She had to find her own way now, retracing the path from memory. That became harder the farther she got into the woods, especially as the sun was going down and evening was creeping in.A rotting moss covered log blocked her way—she didn’t recognise it. Had she taken a wrong turn? Sally looked around the forest for any landmarks she might recognise.The silver birches were giving way to pines, which grew closer together, and the temperature in this part of the forest dropped. The cool air brought a sudden flash of lucidity. Sally thought about what she was doing here in the middle of the forest, and it suddenly seemed insane.Was she really going to save David this way, or was she p
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