Stay Away (The Beocraftian Gambit - Book One)

Stay Away (The Beocraftian Gambit - Book One)

Oleh:  Jeffrey Pope  Tamat
Bahasa: English
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Twenty five years ago, Kevin's parents were brutally murdered. Two decades later, Kevin is forced to watch helplessly as his fiancée suffers torture at the hands of the same murderer. Never fully recovering from the trauma, he moves into a new city, hoping to start his life anew, leaving his devastating past behind. But things doesn't go as planned when he meets Natasha—the daughter of an officer hunting for his kind. They soon discover the battered corpse of a missing detective assigned to investigate the murder of his fiancée, which signalled a new danger. However, when the horror from his past returns, Kevin is forced to stay away from Natasha—or watch her fall victim to a ghoul who takes pleasure in tormenting him.

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Oh my! The prologue is intense! I'm geared up to continue reading this story.
2021-10-21 01:28:28
32 Bab
In the quiet of the night, the bellow of an anguished shifter broke the stillness, filling the dark woods with terror. Its roar shook the very foundation of the little cabin where the couple had camped out. Even though it came from a distance, it still had a terrifying impact on them. Sinclair and Rebecca exchanged glances, fear lingering in their eyes. A tingle ran down the length of Rebecca’s spine after the roar died. She recognized it. “Oh, God. It’s T-Murek.” Her face paled. “He’s here.” She uttered a breathless gasp and whirled to face him with frightened eyes. “Phineus is still out there.” She quickly handed the baby in her arms to her husband, who stood paralyzed with fear and reached for the door. “No, Rebecca!” She tried to unlatch it, but he grabbed her arm and pulled her back. “I have to save him!” she bawled, struggling to break free. “No!” he bellowed. “If you go out there, you’ll die!” She persisted, pushing his fingers off her wrist. “But Phineus—he’s out the
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The car engine wheezed its death cough, the door swung open and the foot of a fair-skinned teenager reached out into the hot Monday morning. The sun shining down on her made her skin look as though it glittered. The air was dense and stuffy enough; it felt like the entire street was indoors somewhere. She took off her dark sunglasses, glancing around. Her brown eyes glowed in the sunlight as she took in her surroundings. She smiled. “Feels great to be back.” “Natasha,” a masculine voice called from inside the car. “Just call me if you need anything.” “Stop,” she said. “Dad. Stop.” She heard him chuckle, and the car engine roared to life. “Have a great day, sweetie.” “You too.” She stood still, watching him drive away until he was completely out of sight, then continued towards the school gate with her notepad in hand, which she held close to her chest, and her schoolbag, which hung from her shoulder. Her long-time classmates and best friends greeted her at the school gate.
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The lecture was already in session when Natasha arrived. She walked past the bald old man who was putting down some notes on the board. She tried not to get noticed as she sneaked past him. Natasha hurried to an empty seat at the back, but then stopped midway into the lecture hall when she heard her name called from the front. All eyes immediately fell on her. She slowly turned—chest throbbing within her chest. Her eyes cast a guilty gleam on the old instructor whom she found still scribbling away on the board, too busy to glance her way. Natasha remained still, agitated from the sea of eyes watching her from all directions. She rubbed her fingers together while she waited. He spun to face her, his fierce gaze piercing through her. “You’re late—” The tiny lens that sat on his pointy nose moved as he spoke. “I’m sorry sir, but—” “—again,” he completed his sentence, cutting her short. Dr Legolas was an old science professor known among the students as a disciplinarian who compelled
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Dreda was right. Something about the stranger made her a little wary of him. Back there on the field, when he’d gotten so close, she felt an unholy energy encircling him, the kind meant to shut things out. And his warning—stay away from me—was just so condescending. Natasha never recalled showing any sort of interest in the cold stranger. She was confused why he would warn her off so sternly. Perhaps this has something to do with her bumping into him earlier. She tried to choke back her anger when she remembered that her phone was still broken. She walked in through the front porch of the big bungalow into the lounge. There she saw her little brother knocking himself out on a video game. The moment he saw that she was home, he quickly tossed the control pad and trotted towards her, announcing her return with a loud scream. “Natasha is home!” “Cut it out, Damien.” She smacked his head, walking past him. “Ouch!” He held his head, frowning at her. “What did you do that for?” “Oh, ple
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When Kevin opened his eyes, they were watery, and his throat felt scratchy. He wasn’t sure where he was. He felt himself sitting upright in an iron chair and tried to get up, but couldn’t. That’s when he noticed that something was restraining his arms. He looked down and saw the belt that wrapped around his wrist, anchoring his hands to the arm of the iron chair. Kevin moved his body, struggling hard to set himself free, but the belt was just too thick. He looked around the room nervously and noticed a long table in the corner of the room. Some bottles were placed on top. He glanced up at the window behind drawn curtains high up the cinder-board wall. The curtains sealed off a partial trace of light. The room seemed empty and devoid of life. A thin line of sweat rolled down his forehead and rested at the side of his lips. He took out his tongue to lick it off. It had a distinctive taste of sweat mixed with blood. That was when he realised he was bleeding. The last thing he remember
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Kevin was having another disturbing nightmare, and he kept seeing four distinct images in this order; houses on fire, blackbirds sitting on a tree, a name written on a paper, and a man screaming while he was being tortured. His grip on the bed sheet tightened, and drops of sweat gathered on his forehead. His head turned, eyes remained closed, his chest heaving rapidly. Once again, images of a gigantic cloud of smoke rising from burning houses, Crows pecking an oak, a finely written note with a name on it, and a man screaming in pain floated around his mind. His body was hunched, his breathing hastened and fingers clenched together. Kevin—screaming, woke from the nightmare, a horrified look plastered all over his face. That was the second dream in one night. Panting, he sat up straight on the bed, his palms sweaty and his face covered with sweat. He looked up at the big clock that hung on the wall. 3:14 am The door swung open, and Cedric rushed in with a lamp which he held up above
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The other girl wasn’t with them—what was her name again? Of course. He finally remembered. Natasha As he sat in silence, listening to them talk, he began to understand why she hadn’t joined them, the numb expression on their faces. It had something to do with an assault of some sort, but then he berated himself not to concern himself with her—she was not his concern. Landry noticed how frequently he looked in their direction. “Are you okay?” He turned to look at him. “What?” “Noticed you staring at those girls over there, and thought—” “I only met them yesterday. In school.” He brought his voice low. Just as he listened in on their conversation, the girls could also do the same. “You know that’s a bad idea, right?” “The girls? Or school?” “Both” He didn’t answer him. Landry took his silence to mean that he agreed. “Imagine my surprise when Cedric told me you enrolled in a college? College? How could you be so unreasonable? You’re a danger to everyone who gets close to you, i
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Kevin could still feel Loretta’s pain from that day—even though it was almost a year since she’d been tortured to death. He wished so desperately to forget what had happened—that’s part of the reason he moved into Burnout City with Cedric, but the memories kept coming back. Standing there in the hallway, watching Natasha through the large transparent window, upset him. Then he realised he had tears in his eyes and took out a handkerchief to wipe them off. He still couldn’t understand how T-Murek had gained pleasure from torturing Loretta. He was more upset that the cops couldn’t find him or the masked man that’d kidnapped him, even after months of a thorough search. It was harder even to find the masked man since no one could identify him. The case had gone cold with no new lead. Returning to the present, he noticed that Natasha was awake and was having a conversation with her friends. She seemed to be in pretty bad shape and could barely sit up straight. She just laid there on the
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Kevin sat outside the store opposite Pittsburgh bar, waiting patiently, intending to confront the thugs that’d assaulted Natasha the previous night. It was already dark, and the street was lonely. He glanced up at the big clock that hung inside the shop. 11:48 pm. He wondered how much longer he’d have to wait before they showed up. The shopkeeper who’d noticed him sitting there for a while came to meet him. “Sir, is there something I could help you with?” After a momentary silence, he said to him, “I’ll have a bottle of tequila.” And at once the shopkeeper left to get what he’d requested. He soon arrived with a bottle of tequila placed side-by-side with a bottle opener on a tray and set it down on the table before Kevin. “Thank you.” Kevin opened the bottle and poured it into a dark glass. “Wait, please! Don’t go,” he said to the shopkeeper, stopping him mid-way into his store. “I’m waiting for someone, but I don’t know where they might be. Maybe you could help me.” The shopk
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A man quickly highlighted from the car, held up a gun, and scurried to where they’d gathered. “Hey!” he shouted, firing off three rounds to warn them off. Gunshots echoed throughout the dark street, and they scampered, leaving Kevin to lie in pain on the earthen floor. Aiming in their direction, the man fired. The thug in the black jacket stumbled to the floor while attempting to flee; the bullet had caught his knee. He shrieked, holding the injured knee to stop the bleeding. In a desperate attempt to flee, he crawled on his knees—wilting, trying to get away. The armed man quickly caught up with him and grabbed his hair, held him up and kicked him hard on the knee. Shady uttered a loud, horrible cry, his knee bleeding. The armed man grabbed his hair and forced him to gaze up at him. “What’s your name?” “Screw you!” the thug sputtered. A punch landed squarely on his broken nose, arousing the pain. The thug piped up, spitting out blood. Holding up his hair, the armed man uttere
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