A VERY DARK tale (#Wattys2016)

By ElinaMalina

42.6K 1.2K 292

"I closed my eyes listening again. To my left, I heard another several crunches, and without hesitation sprin... More

A VERY DARK tale
Prologue.
Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
My dear little strudels!
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 40.5
Chapter 41

Chapter 8

1K 33 5
By ElinaMalina

Hey, Guys! I just wanted to thank you all for reading "A Very Dark tale". I appreciate each and every person who showed some interest in it.

I love you all!

Lina :)

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     December 29, 1962, New York, NY.

    

    My smile stayed attached the whole day as I continued touring the streets of New York. Christmas didn't bring much of excitement on my part. The only good thing that happened was that I had a chance to see my goddaughter Grace. Her first birthday was coming next month, and I planned on making her a big present.

Here and there I made some purchases, and with hands full of shopping bags decided to head to my hotel. I passed the chain of expensive shops in a good part of New York and paused by the building that looked quite intimidating. My heart skipped a beat when I read the sigh that shone proudly exhibiting golden letters "National Bank."

I needed to open my own secret account just in case if my affair with Dwight would come out, and people would find out that it just a bogus.

My thoughts unwillingly turned to Grace again, picturing her cute little face that reminded me so much of her father. The day of the wedding was coming closer, and we still didn't know how to postponed it. To play lovebirds was pretty easy considering that Dwight and I loved each other. The only thing nobody knew was that our love was of a different kind.

Something inside me clicked, and my body on its own pivoted straight into the entrance to the bank. A doorman in a red jacket smiled kindly at me, and once he welcomed me by lifting his hat once, he turned to the door and pulled it open. I nodded sending him a small smile and strode inside. My heart was already calmly beating.

I wasn't the most cautious or prepared for a real life person, but I wasn't clueless either. I had a sense of responsibility, and my brain could calculate just fine any sort of aftermaths. Moreover, a nagging feeling or something horrid caused me to be extra provident.

I looked around a spacious hall, and when my gaze stopped on a pair of curious brown eyes, I froze. The eyes were warm and welcoming.

Thinking of what I really needed here, I blinked and getting back into my confident mood advanced to the table wherein the same proud golden letters was signed a name Murray J. Wright – specialist. The man looked young, probably just out of university. His expression showed vulnerability and a hint of excitement, and his posture looked ready as if he was suppressing his urge to jump up and greet me.

"Hello," he tried not to smile too brightly at me. "What can I help you with?" His hand shot out, and I found myself reaching for it.

"Hello," I replied calmly. "I would like to open an account."

"Um, sure, of course," he nodded releasing my hand and immediately pointing me to the chair. "Please, have a seat."

I smiled softly liking this man and the light air around him, and sat down placing my shopping bags on the floor, and then pulling my satin gloves off. The engagement ring on my finger caught his attention, and I noticed his smile waver. I sighed bitterly and stretched another smile. I couldn't even flirt around; Dwight's marriage was at stake. Besides, Sheila would never approve a commoner, even if he was a bank clerk with a bright future.

"Cigarette?" He opened a case and offered me one.

"Thank you," I reached for a cigarette, and when he lit it up, I inclined on a chair and felt my body relax on the seat. The guy brought an ashtray closer to me, and I watched him enjoying his cigarette, too.

"You said, you'd like to open an account in our bank?"

"Yes, an individual account." I took a pull and released smoke in one long blow. "You see, I use my family account at the moment, and since I work, my paychecks stay unused. I actually have all of them with me. It's quite a large sum." I reached for my purse and awkwardly with my spare hand started digging out my checkbook where I stashed all of my paychecks from Mr. Palus. "I suppose, I always can cash them..." I trailed off shrugging my shoulders.

"No worries Miss..." the guy cocked his head to a side in a curious manner.

"It's Stacy Ann Jenkins," I murmured checking the nametag of the guy, "Mr. Wright."

"No worries Miss Jenkins. It will be my pleasure to assist you with anything you need."

"Thank you," I rested the cigarette on a side of an ashtray and went down to business pulling all the necessary documents to proceed with the account.

When I left the bank, an invisible weight has been lifted off my shoulders. At least one business was taken care of, and I didn't need to worry about my personal well being for another year or two. My mother didn't need to know about my little reserve. It was one thing that my senses commanded me to keep to myself.

I gave the bank building a farewell glance and feeling accomplished hurried along the street mixing with the flow of pedestrians.

I crossed the street and continued my stroll towards my hotel. There were only four blocks left when a gust of crispy cold air was thrown into my face with a raging fury. It penetrated under my coat and made me shiver. I gasped and closed my eyes waiting for the blast to be over.

When I peeled my eyes open, my head automatically started to hurt from the ice-cold sensation, and my thoughts went scatter. Disoriented, I brought my hand to my forehead and massaged my temples. The street around me started to come alive again. I noticed several people cringing from the wind too, but none of them had it as bad as I had.

I made a step ahead and then froze again when saw a strange woman standing on the edge of a sidewalk staring at me with half-crazed expression. On top of her winter jacket, she wore a sign with some biblical testaments. I was so concentrated on her face that only vaguely noticed what exactly was written there. The woman pushed some pedestrians away from her path, and sternly made her way to me. Her mouth was half open and trembling. Her pale gray eyes were round and clouded with rage and determination seeming to be somewhere far away from a real world.

"Run!" She screamed into my face making me flinch. A fear exploded in my chest making me paralyzed. "Run!" She screamed again, and I stepped back feeling my legs shift on their own accord. Her stare hypnotized me entering deep into my consciousness, and slowly I finally started making sense of her behavior. The woman was insane. Everything about her was off, but something in me didn't settle well from the intensity of her glare. "Run!" her voice hit me into my head. Her hands grabbed my shoulders digging her fingers painfully into my flesh. Even through a thick coat, I sensed strength in her grasp. "Stupid fool! RUN!" She shrieked.

Something warm spread through my skin swallowing my entire body. But before I could understand what it was, the woman was gone. Someone of the passersby pulled her away from me, and another face came into view. A young lady started patting my cheeks. Her lips were moving, but I could hear her words. Everything around me went into muteness, and all my senses blocked out. I blinked trying to snap out of my shock, but an urge to leave went ahead of me and guided me away from the crowd.

I forced the words of gratitude out to my saviors on instinct moving my tongue and producing the sentences. However, as I spun around and stepped closer to the crossroad, there was something positively wrong about my vision. Every single person in my vicinity was surrounded by colors. I gulped and scan around blinking as I look making sure that it wasn't a trick on my eyes. But it wasn't a trick. The faint lights of different colors were wrapped around every single person.

I pushed my legs forward and kept gazing around. Some people had multiple colors, some only couple. Some had red, some had orange, some blue, some green and even pink.

On the other side of the street, my gaze stopped at the man who seemed to be watching me. He had shades on and a long trench coat that fitted well his tall frame. His posture radiated power and wealth. I could recognize such men from probably a mile distance. I grew up around such men. I knew from one glance that he was important. Near him stood two more men, dressed in the same manner, but their heads were turned away from me.

Maybe that man in the shades wasn't looking at me at all. Maybe he was just standing and waiting for the traffic. I couldn't guess for sure, but when I observed the three of them closer, my heart fainted. The two of the guys had such blackness around them that it almost looked black. And the man with shades surprisingly had no color. In the sea of colorful people, he stood out the most normal way. He looked like a hole in the air: Something big, massive and wrong.

The honking of the cars startled me. I jumped up and my head twisted towards the source of the noise. In the middle of the road, I saw that crazy woman. Her gaze was still fixed on me, and her hands were raised in the air in tight fists. She was screaming something on the top of her lungs.

With a troubled heart, I watched two police officers persuading her to move away from the road, but she pushed them away and began pounding towards me when she noticed me looking at her. Her mouth continued tracing the word Run.

Something clicked in my head making my vision blurry. My ears filled with a thin nerve wrecking sound. With the free hand, I clutched to my temples pressing fingers into my skin. Dizziness crept on me. A little more and I would faint.

"Stacy?" A panicking voice pierced through the buzzing. "Stacy!" I felt my body being lifted and carried somewhere.

No giving it another moment. I forced my lids up and through the unclear picture in front of my eyes distinguished a man of elegant appearance. His face was clear and shaped in soft masculine outline. His dark eyes seemed almost black aiming its power straight deep into my soul.

His scent hasn't reached me yet, but I knew that it was familiar. Very familiar and quite likable. I took another breath giving my lungs a full portion of oxygen and my heartbeat returned. My blood started running at a normal speed through my veins, bringing my color to my cheeks.

I felt us submerging into warmth, and then it finally hit me. It finally was clear who was carrying me.

"Mr. Palus," I said and tensed in his arms.

"Oh dear!" He made another couple of steps, and I suddenly found myself on an armchair. "What happened?" His face was full of concern. "Do you need a doctor?"

"No, no! I feel much better, thank you!" I exclaimed.

Tyr shook his hand dismissively. "No, the doctor won't be needed. Thank you," he said looking at me. I blinked and only then realized that we were in the foyer of a hotel surrounded by people. My fingers jerked, and I released my shopping bags that I held in a deathly grip. Cautiously, I surveyed the crowd that started dissolving. The colors vanished, there were only people in their usual selves.

I removed my gloves and touched my face with my bare palms examining my skin. My scare was so intense after that woman attacked me that I started seeing things. My brain function failed me.

I sighed. It wasn't real. It was only a post shock trauma.

"Stacy?" The voice of Tyr Palus lifted me from the train of my thoughts. I looked up and met his calm expression. "What happened? How do you feel?"

"I..." I pronounced, but it came in a whisper. I cleared my throat and tried again. "I don't know what happened. That woman on the street attacked me. She grabbed me and started yelling something into my face," I explained. "She scared me and then when someone pulled her off me my head started spinning, and I felt dizzy."

"Did she hurt you?" he stepped closer.

"Not much. She just grabbed my shoulders and shook me a little. But otherwise, I'm all right."

"I'm glad that I came on time," he smiled.

"Thank you. I really appreciate it." By the decoration of the hall, I could tell that it wasn't my hotel. "Is this the hotel you are staying at?"

"Yes, I knew it would be improper to remain in the same hotel with the engaged to another man woman and her employee. People might misunderstand."

"Yes, sure. I'm so sorry to cause you so much trouble. I just went shopping and on the way back ran into that insane person," I shook my head negatively.

"That's quite alright, darling. I'm happy that you are fine now. Let me escort you to you hotel so you can take a proper rest before tonight."

I nodded and using the help of Mr. Palus stood up. Today was a charity even with President Kennedy and the First Lady. And Mr. Palus asked me to escort him to the reception. I really didn't know why he asked me, but knowing that Sheila would be ecstatic, I, of course, agreed.

February 6, 1963. Washington, DC

Marguerite, the awfully disciplinarian secretary of Mr. Palus, greeted me with a cold gaze when I entered his office to receive my new case to deliver. After the incident with the crazy lady, I tuned my awareness in and started looking more around noting some things here and there. Admittedly, I speculated many times about the content of the cases. From what I collected during that month of my work for Tyr Palus, I figured that those were the documents to sign. Anything else seemed not actually fitting the description.

I said my polite hello, and as I approached Mr. Palus's study, the front door burst open and severely distressed man ran in. I spun around facing him and my brows creased. I knew that face from somewhere. His hair was a mess and his outfit saggy and wrinkled. His finger pointed at me, and he screamed. "You! You don't know what you're doing!" Marguerite huffed and immediately was on her feet saying some soothing words.

"Don't give me that crap!" He turned to her. "You are Ater xs df," his words came out gibberish. "Had aaa ee EET RAA aaa aaa," he clutched to his throat with both hands.

The door behind me flew open, and I felt some static energy circling behind me. "What is going on?" Mr. Palus demanded.

"Eeeeee Uooouuaaat fraaadnsss aaaaaaa!" The man exclaimed still talking gibberish.

"Marguerite, call the police. Stacy, please come inside my office. This man is dangerous. He is unstable."

Walking backward, I somehow slipped past Mr. Palus and shook my head in disbelief. This was abnormal.

The man who was still yelling at the top of his lungs was Mr. Jackson. He was one of the clients of Mr. Palus. And it made no sense whatsoever.  

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