REVIVAL Return to Us Trilogy Book One

Prologue

Ivy

Where the hell am I? 

I squeeze my eyes closed. Open. Blackness. Pungent dampness wafts into my nostrils and tickles my nose hairs.

It's way too dark in here. Some creepy horror film kind of darkness. I'm waiting for the phone to ring, only for the disturbing voice to ask if I like scary movies. Which I don't, by the way, if anyone is taking notes. 

I wave my hands outward with my fingers spread like high-tech sensory equipment, looking for any sign of my whereabouts. My left palm grazes what feels like a stone cold concrete wall. Little bits break off and shatter at my feet. The pebbles bounce off my shoelaces and scrape my weary ankles. Definitely concrete. Definitely old concrete. 

Close. Open. Nothing. 

Just utter darkness wrapping its malevolent vines of despair around my body. Clutching and strangling my form until all my orifices plead for leniency. I shudder with angst from my alarmingly eerie thoughts. 

Mustering up some unknown courage, I dance the tip of my shoe out in front of me. I'm probably going to plummet, feet first, down a stone well or something, with a gruesome little dead girl in it. Great, now that image is in my head. If anyone wants to know why I hate haunted houses, this is it. Right here, right now. 

Close. Inhale. Exhale. Open. Damn it! 

This would only happen to me. This is how my life has been. I should be used to it by now. I turn and place my back to the cold concrete wall, or what I hope is a wall, since I'm leaning on it… in a gloomy passageway. 

Okay, come on. I can do this. I inch along, staying flush with the gritty concrete. Something is telling me to go in this direction. The pressure in my chest, this resilient throbbing ache, is thwarting my breathing. I try to cough to clear my throat, but it feels like something is covering my mouth. I can't inhale. 

Wait… did I hear a voice? A distorted, authoritative voice. I strain to hear it again, willing my ears to grow two sizes larger for this very moment. Come on, please. Come on… 

There it is again. It sounds as if someone is trying to speak to me from far away. The voice is masculine, irrefutable, and uncompromising. The kind of voice any woman would want to hear right before a man is about to impale her. Just saying… 

Cough. Wheeze. 

I wait a few more seconds and pray to hear his voice again. Silence. My worst fear has found me. I'm alone… again. Afraid. Helpless. Lost. I brush a tear away from my right cheek. I need to get it together for god's sake. I've been in much worse situations than this before. 

I wish I could hear his unassailable and definitive tone once more. And feel that brief moment of deliverance from this nightmare again. His voice protected and shielded me from my terror. I wrap my arms around my midsection, fold myself inward, and slide down the cold concrete wall. Now I'm really getting frightened. Please someone help me… anyone… 

Close. Open. Darkness. 

I jump when I hear the clear, daunting voice ricochet off the walls. "Scalpel. Now! Ivy, stay with me. Listen to my voice." 

I can't breathe. It's like I've got a turkey baster shoved down my throat. With every squeeze of the bulb, my drained lungs shrivel to the size of a sun-scorched raisin. 

The heaviness in my chest is excruciating. Please, I'm scared. Why won't anyone help me? I try to yell for help, but nothing comes out. 

The voice is enraged and manic. "Fight, Ivy. You fucking hear me? You better fucking fight!" 

Of course I can hear you. You're yelling at me. Stop shouting! I need to find him. 

"Goddammit, Ivy. Open your eyes. Open your eyes. Open them!" 

This man is incensed. I'm not sure I want to find him anymore. However, his gruff voice sets a fire down deep in my belly waking even the most desolate parts of me. I love the way he says my name, too. Maybe I do want to find him and keep him mad at me… all the time. 

Close. Open. Blinding light. 

I raise my forearm to block the piercing array of colors. My eyelids flutter to keep up with the potent light roasting my irises. I'm no longer in the gloomy and icy passageway. My pleas have been heard. 

My vision is blurry, like the day after you wake up from a night of binge drinking. We've all been there. Don't act like you haven't. I blink as I attempt to figure out where I am. The light. The blinding light looks to be a surgical lamp hanging above me. 

I strain to see. Captivating, deep-set eyes fill my vision and stare back at me. Bright eyes, the purest turquoise blue of the Caribbean Sea. These eyes could burn a hole straight through any woman's soul… or her panties. 

I can't stop gazing into these angelic aquamarine eyes framed with thick, charcoal lashes. A surgical cap and mask cover the rest of this striking face before me. I desperately want to reach up and pull on the mask, but I'm too frail. My entire body feels like a limp noodle about to blow away with a gust of wind. 

From behind the mask, a profound voice says, "Welcome back, Ivy." 

The voice from the passageway… that imperious voice. 

He found me.