The River of Shadows - Chapter 1

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The River of Shadows
Chapter 1
by Alyssa Plant

 
A high school senior heads to Boston to visit his sister for Halloween. A twist of fate reveals something they would never have admited alone... and it proves to be the one thing that may keep them alive when the best laid plans of a group of college students are lain waste by a force of terrible evil and corruption that has thrived for centuries... Can Charlie Kane be strong enough to live? or will the River of Shadows claim yet another victim...?


 
Chapter One — Proper preparation prevents…
 

I looked out of the train window as we drew into Boston: True to form, I could see little beyond the rain lashing against the glass, mercifully obscuring my view of South Boston’s crumbling industrial cadavers that lined the tracks. It always seemed to rain when I came to this city…

Stretching after the lengthy journey, I began, slowly, to collect my belongings as the train began to slow for Boston South Station. I was in town visiting my big sister for the weekend, and an excuse to party college style… I, Charlie Kane, was seventeen, and in my senior year of high school back home in Fairfield, Connecticut; I was roughly five and a half feet of scrawny geek stereotype with long dark hair that I refused to cut as if it may hide the scrawniness and make me look cooler… somehow. My sister Hannah, three years my senior, was a sophomore at the University of Massachusetts. Hannah was, I suppose, quite pretty; she was relatively slim and stood a statuesque five foot nine inches tall with her Sandy blonde hair falling down to her shoulder blades. We were polar opposites…

Stepping down onto the platform I took my first lungful of cold, fresh air in nearly ten hours. Navigating my way through the crowds, I made my way towards the main hall of the station where I would collect my suitcase and meet Hannah. The crowd swirling around me, I clutched the strap of my pack tighter as the bustling mass jostled me too and fro. Finally emerging into the bright expansive main hall of the station the crowds seemed to dilute somewhat in the vast atrium; I began my search for the baggage collection carousels.

Before long, I found them located in an area off the main hall of the station. Reaching the rotating conveyor belts, I scanned the electronic board for the one belonging to my train. Spotting it over to my left, I walked over and began searching the circling luggage for my case.

I heard my phone ring as I was scanning the passing cases. Flipping it open, I recognised my sister’s name on the screen and answered.

“Hello Hannah.” I answered with a smile. “I’m here; just collecting my case.”

“Finally!” Hannah sighed in mock frustration. “I’ve been waiting for that train for ages! Where are you?”

“At the baggage lounge, next to the check in desks.” I replied, “See you in five?”

“Sure,” Hannah replied before hanging up.

I was still searching five minutes later when my sister arrived. The first clue I had of her presence was a pair of arms encircling me, making me jump with fright; her trademark.

“Hey there baby brother.” She giggled squeezing me tight. “It’s been too long.”

“Good to see you Hannah,” I smiled turning to face my sister. “How are you?”

“I’m good,” she shrugged non comittally, “Class’s a drag, but this weekend’s gonna be a blast,” she grinned.

“What exactly do you have planned?” I asked curiously, acutely aware of the lack of information I’d been privy to.

“Nothing much.” She grinned sheepishly. “Just a small party with some friends: You brought a costume like I asked right?” she asked cocking her head to one side.

Rolling my eyes I nodded. “It’s in my case, if it ever arrives.”

Hannah frowned, “Not come off yet? They don’t seem to be sending any more out.” She added nodding at the conveyor with 5 remaining bags circling waiting for their owners.

“Ugh, just what I need.” I moaned, “Mom’s gonna kill me if I’ve lost my stuff.”

Turning, I sought out the bored looking attendant.

“Excuse me.” I asked approaching the desk. “I was on the 1800 Train… My bag isn’t here.” I informed the disinterested woman.

Without responding, she tapped on her computer keyboard for a moment before looking up finally. “All the bags from that train were unloaded sir,” she droned mechanically. “If it’s not on the carousel, someone must have taken it,” she offered unhelpfully.

“Yeah thanks.” I muttered feeling a pang of disappointment, as I turned and walked away. It was a bummer really… I had my changes of clothes and my costume in that bag… thankfully all the important stuff like my laptop and my Ipod had been in my rucksack on the train itself… small mercies I suppose.

I walked back over to Hannah with my hands in my pockets. “What did she say?” Hannah asked expectantly.

I shrugged, “Nothing helpful. What am I gonna do for clothes and stuff this weekend?”

Hannah looked thoughtful for a moment. “Well you’re good for tonight right? We can stop off at a drugstore and grab you a toothbrush and whatever… we’ll go shopping in the morning for some stuff ok? We’ll need to get you a new costume,” she chuckled, “You aren’t getting off that easily.”

We walked out of the station and found Hannah’s old beaten up hatchback before joining the rush-hour traffic and making our way back to her apartment. She lived in a very student orientated part of town just off the campus, It was relatively nice to my inexperienced eye, and clearly quite popular. Making a quick dive into a drug store round the corner from her place, I followed my sister up to her third floor apartment and the final promise of rest.

Retrieving her keys from her bag, Hannah unlocked the door to the apartment and let us in. I hadn’t seen her place since she had moved in over the summer months; I was mildly impressed. The apartment was small but nicely furnished and clean. A modern looking kitchen with a breakfast bar dividing it from the living room made the place feel more spacious despite its size.

I slumped down on the sofa and kicked off my shoes. “It feels good to have finally stopped moving.” I sighed happily.

“How are mom and dad?” Hannah called from the kitchen.

“They’re fine.” I replied absent mindedly, “Dad’s snowed under with that new contract, and mom’s working on another book.”

“That’s good,” Hannah agreed, “I miss them loads.”

She walked back from the kitchen carrying two steaming mugs of hot chocolate which she placed down on the coffee table before joining me on the sofa in typical Hannah fashion; she plopped.

“So this party...” I began slowly. “What’s the plan?” I asked casually sipping the steaming liquid and eyeing her carefully.

Hannah grinned. “Oh it’s totally cool… I mean, I told mom and dad it was like this thing on campus… no alcohol allowed with chaperones right? But its not…” she grinned triumphantly.

“Go on.” I pressed cautious of Hannah’s legendary powers of understatement.

“Well…. My friend Claire’s dad is in real estate right?” She prompted despite my total lack of knowledge of anyone called Claire, never mind their father. “He buys and sells places… fixes them up and sells them on… He got this big old place out of town recently, and he’s agreed to let her use it for a Halloween party.” She finished with an expectant grin.

“So we’re going to be all alone in the middle of nowhere, with alcohol, and a big house…” I muttered to myself letting the idea filter through my brain. I watched Hannah’s expression slowly begin to turn to one of concern before I grinned broadly. “Thank fuck you didn’t tell mom and dad that… they would have chained me to a wall back home to stop me coming.”

“Cool.” Hannah smiled. “I was thinking you were going to be all geeky about it and not want to take part.”

I frowned. “Im not a geek by choice; it’s not very easy to make cool friends when most people pick on you.” I admitted sheepishly. “I’m left with those that can’t find anyone else, and my computer and stuff.”

Hannah reached over and hugged me warmly. “Don’t let em get you down ok?” She whispered into my ear as she squeezed me tight. “High school is just plain evil, anyway, nobody knows you here… so we can have a good time and forget all that clique crap.”

I sniffed and rubbed my eyes to mask the fact I’d shed tears, and grunted non comittally. “Not without a costume I won’t.”

“Ah we’ll sort that out tomorrow.” Hannah snorted waving her hand dismissively. “There’s plenty of fancy dress stores around here… we’re in a college neighbourhood remember?”

“Anyway,” she continued looking at her watch. “Its late, why don’t we grab some takeout and get an early night? Tomorrow’s a long day…”

We ordered pizza, and spent time catching up while we waited for the food to arrive. I missed my big sister; she was always role model of mine… She was popular, strong, confident… The things I wanted to be.

The doorbell rang as we were yelling each other down about music genres. Hannah pulled herself to her feet and walked over to answer the door. A snippet of muffled conversation and she closed it again, and returned bearing the fruit of our wait…

Diving into the boxes on the table, we returned to our catching up.

“So you got a girlfriend yet little brother?” Hannah asked conspiratorially while reaching for another slice. “Or are you still pure and innocent?”

I looked away for a moment and felt myself blushing. “Not really, no.” I admitted in a small voice. “I’ve never really known what to do.”

Hannah looked at me with concern as she chewed her pizza. “I’m sorry Charlie.” She frowned. “I didn’t mean to pry… I was just interested… I mean… sorry,” she added.

I shrugged for want of a suitable verbal response. I really trusted my sister, but it was a subject I had never really fully admitted to myself or anyone…

Hannah placed her hand on my arm and gave it a gentle squeeze. “What’s up?” she asked breaking my concentration. “You look awful thoughtful in there…”

I looked up at my sister, without bothering to hide the wetness in my eyes. “I guess I was.” I admitted quietly.

Hannah lent forwards and hugged me tightly for several moments, rocking us back and forth while I cried quietly to myself. Why couldn’t I toughen up? Why was a guy crying because he couldn’t get a date, and having to be consoled by his sister? It felt wrong somehow… Although for once I didn’t care.

 
From the Author:
 
Hey Folks... This is part one of my Halloween Horror thing entry. Its one of 8 parts, and I'll be releasing them every few days from now on. I hope you enjoy it, and I hope you dont get too scared when this reaches that point... I'm going to pull no punches... She wanted Terror... you will get it :)
Lots of Love
Alyssa


 
To Be Continued...

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Comments

A nice start, and I'm

A nice start, and I'm looking forward to more.

Mir

all's normal here

laika's picture

An utterly innocuous beginning. No eerie presentiments, omens, harbingers or weird babbling street crazies pointing their clawlike fingers at Charlie and predicting his soul is already lost. (Lost luggage, the set up for a lot of TG stories, in which the sister suggests a costume that the brother initially balks at, but winds up being surprisingly convincing en femme...). And yet despite this lack of portents I am quite spooked about what will happen. I know you can deliver the goods Alyssa, the battle scenes in your stories are appropriately harrowing and graphic and visceral, and if the battle is with the supernatural this time, this could get rilly gnarly.
(And how far is Boston from Salem, anyway?) Eagerly awaiting Part 2...
~~~hugs, Laika

No no, not Salem, Laika, think Boston Baked ...

Beans.

The mansion belonged to a reclusive Boston Baked Beans tycoon long presumed dead but every Halloween the smell of simmerimg legumes rises from the empty building -- there are persistent rumors of a secret lab or crypt. In any case the pleassant smell of cooking beans, bacon, spices and molasass is followed later by an unholy trinty of vile sounds, viler smells and blasphmous chanting, something like ... Beans, beans the musical fruit ...

Muh ha ha ha ha !

John in Wauwatosa

P.S. Nice start, Ms Plant. I assume it's him going enfem to the party but who knows. Note in a way they are reversals of the expected for siblings, she's tall for a woman but the height of an average man, he's short for a guy -- unless he's not had his growth spurt -- but a reasonable height for a woman. Oh sure she's three years older but it's almost as if they were body switched as children.

You are hinting he's not comfortable in his body, TG perhaps. She is happy as she is, no hints of gender disphoria so the body swap idea falls down though who is Claire? Just a friend or is sis bi/lesbian but no hints of that so far either so just a college friend I guess. Taking a 17 year old to a booze party is irresrponsible but then she feels bad for him, she knows or must know of his poor social status so maybe this is to cheer him up. She doesn't seem a mean soul.

John in Wauwatosa

Salem

Salem is a small port city about fifteen miles north of Boston.

The UMass Boston campus is on Columbia Point which extends into Dorchester Bay on the coast south of the central part of the city. It's location is in the extreme north-east corner of the neighborhood of Dorchester, and south of the neighborhood of Southie (South Boston).

South Boston extends out into Boston Harbor to Castle Island (now connected with the mainland). Fort Independence, on Castle Island, completed in 1851 was the eigth fort on the site, dating back to 1634 and was built to guard Boston's inner harbor.

South Boston is directly across the inner harbor entrance from Boston's Logan Airport. One of the main airport approaches brings planes directly over the homes at the end of Southie.

As far as the baked beans are concerned, in January 1919 a 2.3 million gallon tank of molasses broke flooding Boston's North End. Molasses is an ingredient of Boston baked beans. During warm days it said that you can still smell the molasses.

Michelle B

Edgar Allan Poe

An apocryphal legend holds that the inspiration for Edgar Allan Poe’s "The Cask of Amontillado" came from a story Poe heard when he was a private stationed at Castle Island in 1827. According to this legend, he saw a monument to Lieutenant Robert Massie. Massie had been killed in a sword duel on Christmas day in 1817 by Lieutenant Gustavis Drane. Other soldiers took revenge on Drane by getting him drunk, luring him into the dungeon, chaining him to a wall, and sealing him in a vault.

Source: http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/The_Cask_of_Amontillado"

Michelle B

Like all good

horror stories, Everything is nice and quite ...... For now!!

Kirri

Promises - Promises

The problem is that given your skill as a writer I think I'm already very scared.

Good beginning - Hope Charli enjoys her costume.

As always,

Dru

As always,

Dru

Good Start Alyssa, I Can Guess

Why he has no girlfriends, But will wait to see if I am right.

    Stanman
May Your Light Forever Shine
    Stanman
May Your Light Forever Shine

Stan

NoraAdrienne's picture

How tall were you in high school? This poor kid is 5'6". Most of the girls are probably the same height or taller. He said he was picked up all the time. What girl in her right mind wants to date a guy that is the class target?

I shot up in junior high from 5'4" to almost 5'8", and continued to about 5'10". I was 140lbs soaking wet at that size with a 26" waist.

Oh, you got me off track, since when do you have baggage areas like airports for trains? Whenever I took Amtrack up to Boston to visit friends at M.I.T. you just stuck your bag in the overhead..

Yes, you can stuff SOME bagage in the overhead, but ...

AMTRAK allows you to check some additional baggage. When I went back east in 2005, I had my carry-on bags, but in additional 3 footlockers, each just under 60 pounds. I only had carry-ons when I flew home, as I dumped a footlockers with a computer for my cousin. The other two I used to hold the rest of my luggage after giving some away to friends at the far point.

The first two stations where I had to retrieve my stuff, the bags were delivered by a machine only a bit different than the airport carousels.

It’s not given to anyone to have no regrets; only to decide, through the choices we make, which regrets we’ll have,
David Weber – In Fury Born

Holly

It's nice to be important, but it's more important to be nice.

Holly