It’s Friday and so it’s time to welcome my guest writer. This week it’s Darren Youngson. Darren has been a guest on my blog before with his debut book, The Calling. He’s back with another exciting extract.
If you’d like to be a guest on my blog, please get in touch: estherchilton@gmail.com. Poems can be up to 60 lines and prose 2000 words. If you’d like to add a short bio and photo, then great.
Here’s a brief overview of The Calling:
Jacob, a young adopted teenager battling strange abilities, is forced to embrace them after a horrific incident transforms him into a powerful creature. Plummeted into a mad world of vengeance while searching for a cure, he uncovers a conspiracy that may change the world as we know it.
Extract:
I felt nauseous as I walked the short distance to my house; my legs felt like jelly, my bones ached and my head still throbbed. The after-effects of that strange turn I’d had in the school toilets were somehow staying with me, and it seemed like it wasn’t going to subside anytime soon. The nurse’s advice came to mind: I should really see a doctor ASAP.
I rubbed the right side of my head to try and ease the pain – thinking too much hurt. Shit! I didn’t even know what time it was. As I drunkenly weaved from side to side, something disturbed my train of thought. I stopped in my tracks as my eyes gazed at the familiar dark vehicle. It was parked a few feet away from my house. I approached it with caution to get a closer look just to be sure it was the same one I’d previously encountered. I was curious to see inside it, but fear was holding me back.
Each step felt like a struggle, but I stopped walking after I heard my house door being opened. I was expecting Mum and Dad to come out to confront me about my whereabouts but no. It wasn’t them; it was two suspicious-looking men leaving my house in a discreet fashion. I darted behind a couple of bins and crouched down. Fortunately, they didn’t see me. I peeked out and watched…
From what I could gather, they were both bald and wore black suits. I pressed my back against the bins as much as I could in case they spotted me. My breathing became uncontrollable and loud, but the sound was covered just in time by their car coming to life. It revved a few times and they drove off.
I stepped out from the bins, the remnants of the vehicle’s exhaust fumes lingering in the air. How did they know where I lived? I was almost certain I had led them away from the house during my last encounter.
My eyes turned to focus on my house; the door was slightly ajar as if it was giving me a welcoming gesture – an ominous one. My head span as fatigue and nausea took their toll.
The door was heavy as I pushed it open; it gave off a long, slow creak. I stared into the lobby. All seemed completely normal. I closed the door behind me and quickly locked it. I expected Mum to come stampeding towards me, shouting, ‘Where have you been?’, but she didn’t appear.
My clothes were clinging to my skin and my body felt clammy. My heart rate was still racing and I could hear the beats in the quietness. I stood there inside my house, listening and waiting. Silence.
I made my way to the kitchen. Dishes were stacked up in the basin and there was food on a plate which was wrapped in cling film. Even though Mum cooked healthy, tasty meals, the thought of eating there and then turned my stomach. Had I contracted some sort of fever? I felt bad knowing she had cooked my tea and I wasn’t even there; I was late again.
I left the kitchen and returned to the lobby.‘Mum? Dad? You here?’ No reply. I then heard a faint sound coming from the living room: it was the TV. I pushed the living room door open, but the lights were off. I turned them on. ‘Mum? Da–?’
No one should have to witness the horror that faced me as I approached the bodies of my parents. My eyes saw them, but my brain couldn’t comprehend it. This is a dream, this can’t be real!
My body became limp, deprived of its equilibrium and my legs were no longer able to hold me upright. I fell next to the lifeless bodies, and my hand touched a warm liquid. I stared at my bloody hand in disbelief as blood soaked the light-grey carpet. I wanted to avert my eyes from the bodies but they were transfixed. I wanted to hold them, comfort them and also wake up from this horrid nightmare. But there was no waking up from this.
I fought the urge to take my eyes off the bodies that lay before me. I guess part of me still believed there would be a sign of life; any sign at all.
Mum lay there on her stomach next to the couch in a large pool of blood with what appeared to be two exit wounds protruding from her back and head. Dad seemed to have shared the same fate. He was sitting on his recliner with a bullet wound to the chest and head. The image of his mangled face was horrific, unbearable. Part of me was grateful Mum’s was face down.
I clumsily leaned back against the couch and placed my hand to my mouth to try and control the vomit swirling around in my stomach. I tried looking elsewhere, but the images refused to go away. Tears fell down my cheeks, building to a wail. Slowly, sadness was replaced by anger, anger was then replaced with rage.
The phone rang. I struggled to pick it up from the side of the couch but eventually placed it to my ear. ‘Hello? Hello? Is Jacob there?’ It was Pete. Probably calling to discuss the announcement, and the situation with Jonesy, but my mind wasn’t in the right place.
I couldn’t find my words. ‘Pete,’ I said in distress.
‘Jacob. You all right?’
‘Pete. Something… something’s happened.’
‘What? Jacob? JACOB?’
I lost my train of thought. My mind went blank and the phone fell from my hand. And then, abruptly, my body was struck with a surge of pain causing me to bend over double. I screamed as tears ran down my face. I thrashed from side to side as the pain intensified. The symptoms I’d previously experienced were once again in effect, but oddly profound and out of control. I tried to remember my breathing techniques, but they were overpowered by the images of Mum and Dad.
Something was burning inside me. My body was now on all fours and it started to tremble. My mind raced with thoughts – ruminating all the negative things that had antagonized me: Jonesy, Gary, Pete getting attacked in the school toilets and, of course, the two strange men that had just murdered my parents. I could still hear Pete’s voice constantly repeating my name through the receiver, but I was incapable of responding.
These thoughts that raced through my head somehow fused themselves together, causing my body to hit a point of no return. The trembling became worse, sweat was pouring off me and then a sharp shooting pain originated around the spinal area.
My God! What’s happening to me?
My body was changing, starting to alter itself. I screamed out with excruciating pain as I felt and heard “snaps” that exploded in the air. My spinal column shattered multiple times as each segment reshaped themselves one-by-one. My insides felt like they were on fire as my bones slowly broke, twisted themselves and became elongated.
I struggled to see what was happening to me – to see if there was any way I could prevent it. I watched as my hands changed themselves into something that seemed unbelievable and incomprehensible. Finger tips were gradually replaced with claws and a light-brown fur coated my hands.
Help me! Help ME!
My arms snapped in an irregular form and slowly thickened and rearranged themselves. As my whole anatomy took on this change, my clothes ripped from my body as it became increasingly larger in size.
Meanwhile, my skull felt as though the bones were tearing through the epidermis. My jawbone grew tremendously in size, and huge sharp teeth poked at my tongue. It was a slow, agonizing process as my cranium continued its malformation. I screamed once more. As I did, my vocal cords became distorted and it wasn’t the scream of a man but that of something else – something beastly!
The pain had diminished and it was as though something lying dormant had been awoken. My body felt as though it had transcended itself into a higher plane of existence – a euphoric state! I quickly stood up, banging my head against the ceiling. Dazed and confused at this clumsiness, I realised I was taller. My hands – they had claws where the nails should be and were coated in the same kind of fur as my arms. I lost my balance again due to frightful panic and as I did, my eyes landed on the oval-shaped mirror hanging on the wall just above the mantelpiece. Staring back at me was a creature that resembled a wolf.
It appeared uncanny yet benevolent as I studied my newfound features. My God, what has happened to me? What have I become?
My body was coated in the same kind of fur as that of my arms and it also appeared to have taken on a muscular tone from what I could make out in the mirror. I kept telling myself it was some kind of hallucination or a dream, but I remembered that my dreams didn’t exactly show any kind of refuge.
A sudden realisation came to my mind: was this the beast from my dreams? Considering how strange this was, the similarities of the transformation were, to my knowledge, common to that of a lycanthrope. The creature I’d become didn’t seem to be nightmarish in the least. I knew this was debatable because werewolves were typically ruthless, sinister creatures that focused only on killing their prey. They were known to be remorseless killing predators. But in my case, I still possessed my human characteristics and faculties. My attributes appeared anthropomorphic, therefore I was still in control. That left one question: what was I?
After studying myself and with my mind racing with questions, I remembered Mum and Dad. My gaze landed on the bodies that lay before me. Both still. Their bodies, now a crimson pool, fuelled me with rage. My face tightened, my fists clenched and an intimidating growl came from my throat. Instinct kicked in!
I didn’t want to leave them, but it was either stay and do nothing or retribution. After all, I now owned the advantage. I was going to be the predator that stalked its prey at night. And my prey was two strange men.
I regained my composure and with a quick, fluid-like motion, I ran to my front door and did not stop. My body charged through it like a juggernaut and it smashed to pieces as if it was paper. My mind was hell-bent on catching the two murderers and nothing was going to stop me. Nothing!
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If the extract has piqued your interest, you can order The Calling as follows:
Esther Chilton 