The Darkness Within

By Taylor Henderson

The Darkness Within

Copyright © 2016 by Taylor Henderson

All rights reserved.

First Print Edition: August 2016

Formatting: Stolen Glances Promotions

ISBN-10: 1534890297

ISBN-13: 978-1534890299

No part of this book may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the author’s rights. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to locales, events, business establishments, or actual persons—living or dead—is entirely coincidental.

Also By Taylor Henderson

Better Than Revenge

Scarlet Awakening

Playing With Fire

The Dying Game by Taylor Henderson and Sara Schoen

Bad Publicity by Taylor Henderson and Sara Schoen

Deadly Hallows by Taylor Henderson and Sara Schoen

Beach Week by Taylor Henderson and Sara Schoen

DEDICATION

For my mom, Jenessa.

You asked for a thriller. Now you have to actually read it…

Table of Contents

Prologue

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Chapter Three

Chapter Four

Chapter Five

Chapter Six

Chapter Seven

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Chapter Ten

Chapter Eleven

Chapter Twelve

Chapter Thirteen

Chapter Fourteen

Chapter Fifteen

Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Seventeen

Chapter Eighteen

Chapter Nineteen

Chapter Twenty

Chapter Twenty-One

Chapter Twenty-Two

Chapter Twenty-Three

Chapter Twenty-Four

Epilogue

He readjusted his mask as he walked closer to Holly's shaking body. Her back was pressed flat against the wall, despite the fact her hands were tied, and her feet were free of binds. When she saw him coming toward her, she began to kick her feet relentlessly; her mouth opened wide, but only muffled sound came out through the gag.

Kneeling down in front of her, a smile stretched across his chapped lips. He held one hand behind his back, a knife gripped tightly in his grasp. He didn't want her to see the knife yet. First, he was going to toy with her. He would be robbing himself of one of his favorite parts of the experience if he didn’t make her squirm first. He liked feeling in control of his victim’s future. It was his choice whether they lived or died. Some people might call it a God complex, but he called it self-assurance. It was his way of knowing he mattered, and he knew Natalie would be proud of him for taking initiative and doing what he loved. Toying with these girls the way he did fueled his hunger and made him
feel
. He was never as happy as he was when he was with his girls.

Holly turned her face away when his hand touched her cheek. He sighed as he brushed his fingertips gently across her soft skin, trailing down along her jawline to her chin where he lifted her face to look at him. Her wide, green eyes stared back at him as a tear fell from her eyelashes before she shut them tight.

"You have nothing to fear," he whispered, trying to gain her trust. He removed the gag from her mouth. It was merely a precaution while he transported her. Thanks to the country setting he chose this time, they were far from the nearest neighbors. In fact, she
was
the nearest neighbor, and the only person home was her sleeping little sister, whom she had been babysitting. "I won't hurt you if you cooperate and do what I say."

The only response he received from her was a soft whimper.

"Look at me," he demanded.

Holly flinched away from his harsh tone of voice. A fat tear welled up in the corner of her eye and rolled down her pale cheek. Her throat was hoarse from the screaming she did earlier, but she still managed to choke out the word, "No."

"Come on now, Holly. This won't be any fun for me unless you play along."

"Leave me alone," she spat, enunciating every word while trying to turn her head away from him, but he only tightened his grip on her delicate face.

He clicked his tongue at her words. "Now, now. Open your eyes or I'll cut your eyelids off. That wouldn't be any fun for you, now would it?"

She flinched at his words, but to his surprise, her eyes remained shut tight. "Screw you," she growled through gritted teeth.

Sighing, he shook his head at the frail girl in front of him. "Either you open your eyes and speak to me, or I'll go back to your house and see if that pretty little sister of yours will. What’s her name? Macy, is it?"

Shaking, her eyes stayed closed for a moment, thinking over his words. After about a minute of silence, she relented and opened her eyes, glaring at him. "I will not be a part of your gruesome little game. I know who you are."

He tilted his head to the side, staring at her with mild curiosity. "You don't say? What is it that you've heard?"

Holly's glare deepened. "You murder girls for fun," she spat, her voice full of venom. "It's like other people’s lives don’t matter to you or something. You're a
monster
," she added; a new found courage, one he would not allow, overcoming her.

Pulling his hand from behind his back, he pointed at himself with the tip of his knife as he asked, "Me? A monster?"

Her eyes widened at the sight of the knife, but she nodded nonetheless.

He curved his lips upwards into a sinister smile as he brought the knife up to her cheek, dragging it across her skin without actually cutting her. "I'm not going to kill you right now. I just want to play with you. If you do what I say, I might let you live."

"You
might
?" she questioned, her voice shaking because she already knew the answer.

He nodded. "Life isn't guaranteed, Holly."

At his words, a noticeable shiver went through her. After a second, she whispered, "What happens if I don't do what you say?"

He pushed the blade of the knife into her cheek, drawing blood and causing her to scream out in pain. The piercing sound of her scream hit his ears like a fire alarm and he yanked the knife away from her face, bringing the back of his free hand up and smacking her. "Shut up!" He hated when they screamed. Sometimes it made him want to carve out their vocal cords.

Holly's scream became raspy until she coughed a few times and closed her mouth. She bit down on her bottom lip, causing the skin to turn a bright red.

"That's better," he sighed. Lifting his free hand again, he smiled at how she flinched away from him, but this time all he did was reach up and push her golden hair out of her face. She was just so perfect. He got chills just thinking about what happened next. "So, are you ready to have some fun?"

Despite what her mind told her to say, she nodded her head. Behind her back her fingers were fumbling to loosen the rope wrapped around her thin wrists. She failed to loosen it and only accomplished rubbing her skin raw in the process.

"Good." He raised the knife up again, leaning toward her face with a determined glint in his dark eyes. A smile crossed onto his face as he pressed the tip of the knife into the skin of her forehead. His blood boiled and he grit his teeth as she let out another cry of pain, yet even her scream couldn’t take away from his excitement as her crimson blood began to seep out of her wound. "You're number six."

Vacant

A floorboard creaked outside my bedroom door just a few seconds before my mom pushed the door open and poked her head inside. Her dyed red hair was straightened to perfection, falling just past her shoulders, and her makeup was impeccable. I couldn't think of a time when she didn't look put-together. When she saw I was awake she smiled and came all the way in.

"Good morning, sweetheart," she said as she sat down on the bed next to me.

I rolled over some to give her more room. "Good morning," I murmured back, my voice coming out groggy. I'd been awake for only a few minutes and I could still feel the weight of exhaustion trying to pull me back into a heavy slumber. Trying to fight it, I sat up, leaning back against my headboard and rubbing my eyes with the back of my hands.

"Tired?" she asked, raising a shapely eyebrow.

I nodded. "What time is it?"

Mom raised her arm and tilted it toward me so I could see the small watch she always wore on her wrist. "Almost noon," she answered. "That's why I came to see if you were all right. You never sleep this late."

I groaned and sat up straighter. "I had a long night." Yesterday was my best friend, Adrianna's birthday and I didn't get home until late. Normally I hated staying up late and sleeping in, because I always felt like I was missing out on making the most of my day, but yesterday had been an exception. Adrianna had celebrated her fifteenth birthday by renting out a room in a local hotel and having a quinceañera. We’d been planning the party since we were ten, and the night had been perfect, but I was also grateful it was over. I was beat.

"I know you did. I heard the door at one in the morning when you came in. You could've slept at Adrianna's last night." She reached up and smoothed some of my hair down. I knew without looking that it was one big, knotted mess.

"Yeah, but I didn't ask you and I didn't want to wake you up to ask, so I just came home."

She smiled at me. "Aren't you sweet?"

Shrugging and feigning modesty, I said, "I try." Then I pulled my covers up around my legs. “And sometimes I prefer sleeping in my own bed.”

Mom laughed and continued to smooth my hair down. She stared at me for a moment before saying, "You look so much like your father right now." Her lips parted in a sad smile and her brown eyes focused on mine—they were glistening with emotion.

"Is it the messy hair?" I asked, trying to lighten the mood. I didn't remember much about my father. He died in combat when I was only four years old. The only way I even knew what he looked like was from photographs. We had a lot of pictures around the house and in every one of them he had unruly, curly hair just like I do. In the few pictures we have of me with my dad, his hair was cut into a neat buzz cut. When he enlisted into the marines, he’d had to conform to their policies about hair.

Mom nodded in response to my question. Her eyes began to glisten and I wasn’t surprised when a stray tear leaked from her eye. She wiped it away hurriedly and announced she had made blueberry pancakes for breakfast.

I ignored the tear, knowing it was the best way to diffuse the situation and how she wouldn't want us to focus on it. Instead, I chirped, "Blueberry pancakes! My favorite."

"They're probably cold by now, but we can heat them up or I can make more if you want." She pushed herself up from the bed.

"I think they'll be fine. I'm going to get dressed and then I'll come down." I folded my covers back and climbed out of bed. I stretched my arms over my head, groaning as my body loosed up and my back cracked.

"All right," Mom said as she turned and headed to the door. She walked out into the hall, pulling the door shut behind her before she thought of something and stuck her head back into the room. "Oh, I almost forgot. We have new neighbors."

I furrowed my eyebrows in confusion. "We do?"

She nodded, her red hair bobbing around her face.

"Where? Next door?" I pointed to my bedroom window, where I could see the sloped roof of the house next door. It was significantly smaller than our house, and not well taken care of.

Mom nodded again.

I scrunched my nose up in disgust just from thinking about the decrepit house; with it's overgrown lawn and boarded up windows. I hated that house. It had always scared me as a kid and now was no different. Even at fifteen I believed the stories Adrianna’s older brother, Lorenzo, told us about it to scare us. I always did my best to avoid it like the plague. I wasn’t the only one who disliked the house; my mom hated it too but for different reasons than I did. Apparently living next door to it brings our house's equity down and would make it harder to sell if we ever wanted to move. "Who would be crazy enough to move into that dump?"

I saw mom's lip twitch. She was holding back a smile. "Come on, Claire, it’s really not
that
bad. It's a fixer-upper."

"That's for sure," I agreed.

Mom shook her head, laughing lightly. "I think we should go over and welcome them to the neighborhood. I'm going to bake some cookies or something and then we can take them over later."

I scowled, not wanting anything to do with that house or the people who moved in it, but I knew Mom would force me to come with her. Once she turned and left, pulling my door shut behind her, I walked over to my window and peered down at the little, old house next door.

Sure enough, parked in the rock driveway was an orange and white U-HAUL truck and a gray sedan. Staring at the house, I couldn't help but wonder who bought it and
why
. It definitely wasn't a family home, it was far too run down, and it's been vacant for so long that I didn't even know it was for sale. When the previous owners died, the house had gone downhill and fast. It didn't even fit in this neighborhood anymore.

Maybe the new owners will make the house more approachable. Unless they're just as creepy as their new house is.