The Dark Inside (A Human Element) Read online

  The Dark Inside

  Donna Galanti

  February 2013

  All Rights Reserved.

  Copyright © 2013 by Donna Galanti

  Cover illustration © Calista Taylor

  www.coversbycali.com

  Donna Galanti

  www.donnagalanti.com

  Technical Production Consultant:

  Karen L. Syed at Sassy Gal Enterprises

  http://karensyed.wordpress.com/sassy-gal-for-hire

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews. All characters portrayed in the book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, or events is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Published by Donna Galanti

  Thanks to Kathryn Craft with Writing-Partner for her assistance with developing these stories.

  www.writing-partner.com

  Thanks to author Pavarti Tyler with Fighting Monkey Press for her story idea of The First Time.

  www.fightingmonkeypress.com

  For more about Donna and her books,

  visit her website and sign up for her blog at:

  www.donnagalanti.com

  Don't miss an exclusive excerpt from her debut novel,

  A Human Element,

  at the end of these stories.

  Introduction 6

  The Dark Inside 7

  The Well 8

  The First Time 28

  The Job 40

  Frat Night 54

  The Tree of Sheltered Secrets 60

  The Beginning 64

  A Lucky Strike 71

  Excerpt 76

  About the Author 89

  Buy A Human Element 90

  Introduction

  This short story collection features characters and settings from my paranormal suspense novel, A Human Element (2012), and its sequel, A Hidden Element (forthcoming 2013).

  What inspired it? The simple fact I wanted to be with my characters again. Once you write The End on a book something terribly sad happens. The people you fell in love with along the way, you suffered with, you rejoiced with–they become real. Every day for months you leave the flesh and blood folks in your life to go be with the people inside you. You listen to their songs. You dream about them. You ache to be with them.

  When I neared the end of writing A Human Element I actually slowed down my writing. I knew our relationship was almost over. I didn't want my people to leave me! But their story had to come to an end. This is why I revived some of them in a sequel. Those that didn't make it into the sequel are featured here in behind-the-scene tales that expand on their life, their desires, and their fears. And new characters come to life here that are introduced in A Hidden Element. And what about the other stories here of random folks? Who knows, they may come alive in another tale. Whether they do or not, their stories are still about…The Dark Inside.

  The Dark Inside

  Heartbreak, danger, lust, and betrayal blaze to life in this collection of stories that reveal the dark places hidden within us. When what you most desire is on the line how far will you go to get it, and what will you give up?

  A young man desperate to leave a world that doesn't accept him–and a father who hates him. A tormented man imprisoned as a science experiment experiences love for the first time. A secret agent gives in to his carnal desires and risks exposing the one secret he wants to keep. A college freshman betrayed by her lover takes matters into her own hands. A young girl is determined not to suffer at the hands of her molester anymore. A sadistic leader who thrives on mind control leads his people into a new life. A teen seeks escape from his abusive foster father and faces a life-or-death situation to survive. They must either fight the dark inside or embrace it. Which will they choose?

  The Well

  Before They Left

  Caleb

  Caleb's chest felt like it would crack right open. He sprinted down the field, a wild man chasing his prey. Victory was just a throw away. He dodged the shirtless enemy that grabbed at him. Serah flashed him a brilliant smile filled with promise as he ran past her. Her lovely face shot an ache to his groin. It wasn't possible for his heart to pump faster, but it did.

  He threw the ball. It sailed toward the makeshift net, and then Ferrell grabbed it. Caleb crashed into him. They landed in the cold mud. Pain mixed with his humiliation. He pushed himself up off Ferrell. Cheers filled the air. The Hides had won. He looked for Serah but she had vanished in the retreating crowd. The field returned to nature. It seemed to breathe a sigh of relief after lending itself to crazed teenagers secretly celebrating their youth. The winning team headed off to the after-game party where there'd be plenty of drink and clutching in dark corners, wet lips pressed together. Except Caleb wouldn't be pressing anything up against Serah tonight.

  His Shift teammates muttered empty consolation as he headed for the wooded path. Hot with failure and anger, he ripped off his shirt and shoved it in his bag. The mist mixed with beads of his sweat, trickling cool now down his chest. Last bullyball game of the season. Last chance for them to beat their rivals–and he blew it. He wiped mud from his face and looked back at the field. Ferrell's friends stood around him in a circle. He wasn't getting up. Caleb hesitated. They had been best friends when they were young kids, but things were different now. Since Ferrell's parents split up he'd been acting like a tough guy. Playing pranks on people, breaking rules. They faded away from friendship and now, at seventeen, were pitted against each other in sports, but Caleb hadn't meant to hurt him. It was the typical bully-ball game today. He walked back to his old friend.

  Ferrell lay on the ground, his face a white grimace.

  "Hey, you okay?" Caleb wedged his way in between the other players, who scowled at him.

  "Do I look okay?"

  Caleb knelt down and felt his leg. A vision of Ferrell's dad beating him flashed into Caleb's head. Sometime it was a curse to read memories from touch. His talent for it was more intense than most of his people, and his talent to heal…and his talent to do what no one else could do–bring back the dead. The day he discovered it he had come upon a dead deer. He had touched its rough fur, saw its painful final moments, and wished it alive. When it hopped up and limped away he was stunned, and terrified of this power. He didn't want it. Or for anyone to know about it.

  Ferrell shoved his hand away. "What are you doing?"

  "I hurt you. At least let me heal you."

  "Forget it." Ferrell groaned and his teammates helped him up.

  "It was an accident. I'm sorry."

  "Yeah, right. Hurting me is no win for you. You're still a loser."

  "I didn't mean to hurt you, Ferrell."

  "If I needed to I could heal myself. I'm not a wuss like you who heals himself the minute he gets a little banged up."

  "Fine, tough guy."

  "Better than being a weak girl like you."

  Caleb swung at him. Ferrell dodged his fist, stumbled, and Caleb pounded into him. Each connected punch drove a vision into Caleb's brain of Ferrell's dad striking him. Ferrell never even hit his dad back. He just let himself be beaten. A wave of pity for his old friend swelled in him. He let his punches die, and it was then Ferrell's teammates clobbered Caleb from all sides. He fell on his knees, hugging his torso. Blood dripped from a cut to his eye.

  "Back off, weakling," a final kick dismissed him before the group tried to help their wounded teammate off the field. Ferrell shook off their hands and limped away, then shouted back to Caleb. "Guess who'll be giving it to Serah tonight? She'll get it from a wounded hero–not a waste o
f space."

  Laughter cut into him, swift and deep. Caleb watched them go, the pain in his stomach mixed with the pain in his heart. He let the blood drip into his eye, reveling in the sting. Ferrell wanted to be hot stuff and get in Serah's pants with his sports injuries? Caleb could do the same. But he didn't want to use her body like the other athletes. They traded the girls lined up to please them and took them any way they wanted. It was their right they said. Caleb didn't think so. He wanted to love only one–Serah–and make her love him back. He wanted it to be special, not like the grunting animal sex he'd hear late in the night. His mother was always silent, as if an unwilling accomplice to his father's rhythmic thumping and feral groans. It drove Caleb to stuff his head under a pillow and try to forget about his own aching sexual desires.

  He pushed those ugly thoughts away and thought of the nice bruises he'd be sure to have tomorrow. He'd see Serah at school then. Maybe get a second chance. He hoped she'd see him hurt and take pity. He grew hard thinking about taking Serah, soft and naked beneath him but forced his hardness away, angry at his urges. He didn't desire her for just that. He hoped Ferrell didn't get far with her tonight.

  The mist turned to rain. He shivered now, his sweat cooled. He walked slowly down the wooded path toward home. Murkiness enveloped him under the gray sky that held a dying sun. Ever since their world grew darker Caleb felt the blackness seeping into people's souls. They were angry and full of despair. It permeated everything, and now hung thick and suffocating around him.

  He moved off the path toward his hideaway and looked around. Alone. As usual. He pulled branches away then climbed down into the dried-up well he had found years ago. It was flush with the ground and easy to disguise. Shadowy depth welcomed him. It's where he went to think, and daydream, and write. He kept it covered because it was the only thing that was all his. Here he could escape the overwhelming sensory world around him and his own violent sexual desires. He would never be like his father.

  The only thing that marred his secret world was the images that flashed in his mind when he touched the rock walls. They held memories of a boy who had stood in this well, back when it had been filled with water. It covered the boy to his waist. His face still haunted Caleb: looking up to the sky with terror, hoping for freedom. In the moonlight the boy's face, framed in short white hair glowed against the dark of the well. In some visions the boy cried softly. In some he pulled at the chain bound to his wrist shouting "Father!" over and over. His voice was flat and echoless. Oddly, Caleb always heard these words in his own voice.

  Caleb would then pull his fingers away from the cold stone wanting to shut out the visions. It was his well now. He didn't want to think of the sad boy imprisoned here long ago. Who was he? And what kind of father would do such a terrible thing to his son? He couldn't believe that even his own austere father would do that.

  He sat at the bottom, his eyes adjusting to the dark, trying to forget about the boy. He wanted to think of Serah. He pulled his shirt back on, took out his pen and paper, and wrote so hard he broke through the page more than once. He could barely see the paper in the dim light, but it didn't matter. When the rain stopped his tears wet his words. His rage faded. His poem for Serah may never be read by her, but he could hope. He leaned back on his bag, hands behind his head, and watched the mist blow over his cave. He was cocooned deep in the earth, comforted by rock and silence.

  The sky boiled with black clouds, and he knew he had to get home or his mother would worry. He covered the well again and trudged back down the path. He felt better already. The candlelit window ahead called to him. His mom said she loved the yellow glow over real lights, as it reminded her of the glorious sun that once made their world golden. It was her way of dealing with the power outages. To him, the candle was a pitiful attempt to light a graying world through the mist. But it called him home to the only place he belonged–with his mother, if not his father.

  Caleb wanted to make their world better for her. He dreamed of finding an energy solution that would save them. He'd study energy cell development after graduating from general school. One more year and then he'd show them. His science teacher said he had advanced ideas. Caleb was tired of the water, food, and energy rationings. The solar cells produced the bare minimum now with the diminished light. He was sick of desperate times. But for now he had to deal with bullies and school and his father.

  He slammed the door upon entering, hoping his father wasn't home yet. Rich smells of meat and gravy met him. A big pot hung over the kitchen fireplace. His mother was becoming an expert at making gourmet meals by fire. She peeked up from her cookbook and grabbed him for a hug. He accommodated her, trying not to wince as his ribs were squeezed, and turned away so she wouldn't see his cuts.

  She forced his face around and gasped. "What happened?"

  He threw his bag on the table. "No big deal. We lost the game against the Hides."

  "And you got hurt in the game?" She gently touched his face and he stiffened.

  "Not exactly."

  "A fight."

  "Yeah." He told her what happened.

  Her mouth formed in a tight line. "What's wrong with those boys? Why won't they heal themselves? That's why we have such abilities. It gives us an advantage in this–"

  "Dying world."

  "Yes." She placed both hands on his cheeks. "And you didn't heal yourself either. Why?"

  He tried to pull away, but she held him firmly. "You wouldn't understand, mother."

  She raised her eyebrows at him, waiting.

  "I wanted to go to school tomorrow like this."

  "So they'd think you're a tough guy too?"

  He nodded. She frowned at him, and despite that and the fact her curly, black hair was bound up in a tight bun his mother's natural beauty still glowed before him. His father never seemed to notice, but she turned heads when she went out.

  "All right." She released his face, hers now sad. He wanted her to smile.

  "What did you write today, Caleb?" She knew why he was late.

  "A poem."

  She smiled and sat down, pulling on his bag. "For a girl?"

  He yanked the bag away with a groan. "No, Mother."

  "Come on, let me see."

  She managed to wiggle his notebook out and a tug-of-war ensued until the door opened.

  "What's this?" His father stood there, his massive shape filling the doorframe, fierce eyes fixed on their antics. Caleb slid his notebook away.

  His mother tensed and patted Caleb's shoulder. "Just being silly." She got up to fill a bowl of stew and placed it before his father, who sat down and stared into the fire.

  "Any word, Adrian?" His mother sat down and placed her hand on his father's arm. Caleb's skin tightened being near him and he quickly grabbed his bag to head to his room.

  "Yes." He tapped the table with his thick fingers. "Caleb–stay."

  Caleb sighed and sat down, watching his father pound the stew into his steam shovel mouth. The enormous muscles in his neck flexed with each swallow. He finished his meal in a few gulps and pushed the bowl away.

  "Brahm has been named as mission commander to the new world. With Manta. They have been chosen to procreate and carry on our race."

  "Adrian, I'm so sorry. I know you wanted this. Why not choose you?"

  "They believe I'm a risk, having worked the factory nightshift."

  "But you don't have pitch disease."

  "It can lay dormant and develop years after working with the energy cells and passed on genetically. You know this. They didn't want to take the chance of me going insane over time on their precious mission. My brother, Mr. Scientist, and his wife are the perfect candidates." He spat out the words like a bug from his stew. "As if my seed isn't good enough." The firelight flashed over his father's white hair. It blazed like the fire that Caleb knew raged in his father, and he wondered why he was needed here. His mother sighed–Caleb knew, with relief. She hadn't wanted to go.

  "Adrian, it's meant to be. Y
ou can do more help here running the energy plant and we can all remain where we belong, as a family."

  "We don't belong here anymore. Our resources are nearly gone. We need to leave and find a new place to rebuild our people."

  "And what if you crashed and died–"

  "Like my twin's mission?"

  "Yes," she said quietly.

  "Wouldn't happen with me at the helm." His father snorted.

  "But what if the new world doesn't want us?"

  "We can hide among their people, if need be."

  "Start a new life falsely?"

  "If it means our survival, yes."

  His mother withdrew her hand from his arm. "Enough of that. It has been decided. We will survive here and make the best of it. If the mission is successful there will be others. We should wish Brahm and Manta well on their journey, even though we shall miss our family."

  His father banged his fist on the table as the fire popped.

  "Sorry father," Caleb said dutifully and stood to leave.

  "You are to help your Uncle Brahm ready for his mission. He has requested it. Tomorrow you are to go to his home laboratory after school."

  Caleb's heart beat fast. "Is he taking volunteers on the mission?"

  His father's thick eyebrows furrowed into a deep frown. "They need dozens more. Think you're worthy, boy?"

  "No, Caleb," his mother whispered. Her eyes were huge and shiny, pleading with him.

  "I didn't say I was going, Mother. But I'll help him get ready."

  "You do that." His father smiled at him. "The two of you will work well together. The weak leading the weak."

  Caleb backed up to the door, eager for the comfort of his room.

  "Adrian," his mother admonished.