I thought I would give you a snippet from my next novel. This is the first chapter of Renfield's Dream:
Prelude
Full
of vexation come I
-Egeus-
Something horrific had happened. She knew it. She had
felt it. The blackness seeped into her mind as the car proceeded down the back
roads. Too long. Too much time. Time. The car rumbled and bounced unevenly. She
barely noticed as she steeled herself for what was to come. The driver took her
as far as he could down the broken lane. The car came to a stop and he looked
back at her, apologetically. She put on her hat and dark glasses, got out of
the car and looked down the lane. Huge furrows rent the road as if a giant had
swiped it with his claws. No one would be driving on this road for a while.
She motioned for the driver to go back the way from
which he had come. He started to protest that he could not leave her alone
here. She looked at him. Protestations drained from him. He put the car in
gear, turned it around, and left quickly. She turned back. The driver probably
could not have smelled the smoke, but she did. Not a campfire, nor a forest.
This was the smell of a town that had been set afire.
She walked around the ruin of a road, into the field
adjoining it. The morning was brightening, but it was not full daylight yet.
The trees at the edge of the field were gray. Birds were singing but she did
not notice them. The ground was damp and her shoes were soaked before long. They
would be ruined by this walk. The acrid odor became stronger as she got closer
to the village. There was no question; she could smell burned flesh.
There were true monsters in the world. Some people
called her one. But nothing, no one compared to him. He was the ultimate
monster. Only he could conceive of a deed of this enormity, simply for spite.
For spite of her, how many innocent had died today? It filled her with
foreboding more than rage. The rage would come later. Surely the reality could
not be as bad as her imagination, could it? No one could have an imagination as
vivid and as dark as hers. It came from living too long, and seeing too much.
She was past the destroyed portion of the road now.
She moved off the field and back onto the lane. The road passed into trees now lining
both sides. Branches stretched from each side over her head to form a corridor.
It grew darker. The smell was stronger now.
The trees opened up and now she could see the first
signs of Scoarta, what was left of it. There was a blackened mound that used to
be a house. She walked past it. The streets had been familiar to her, but now
amid rubble and ashes it was difficult for her to find her way. She got lost
three time before she found Ilie’s house.
The village had been a living thing just days ago.
People had gone about their lives: loving, arguing, dreaming, making plans.
They must have had no inkling of what was to come. That was a good thing. Like
a colony of insects, busy at their tasks one moment, trodden under the shoe of
a careless child the next. Not knowing your end is a blessing.
Ilie’s house was a blackened ruin like the rest, but
Ilie was chained up outside the remnant. The monster had left Ilie’s face
untouched so she would recognize him. One link of the giant nautical chain
passed clean through his lower leg, bone and all. No one could imagine the
tortures Ilie had gone through before the monster finally allowed him to die.
But she could imagine it. That was her curse. Ilie’s only crime was in being
her friend.
She did not scream or cry. She was beyond all that.
Revenge was so tiresome and ultimately so unsatisfying. But she would see this
through to the end. Nicolae was a monster the world needed to be rid of. Coming
to this village was probably not wise, but it was something she had to do. Now she
must make haste and put some distance between herself and this country. Later
she would have to find a way to deal with Nicolae . . . for good.
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