The Color of Sound

 

Greetings, Fire Enthusiasts.

It’s been a while since I actually showcased my writing, so I thought I’d spend a little time doing that this post. Like many of us, I love writing and creating. Marketing? Not so much. In any event, it has to be done in order to compete with the ocean of books that are floating out there.

I can’t recall the chicken or the egg part of the story, but I do recall thinking about writing a tale that might offer an explanation as to why loved ones might choose to end their lives. Sadly, suicide has touched us all. But, what if it wasn’t them…?

I came up with a teenage girl, doing her best despite terrible circumstances, suddenly gaining a superpower.

The voice that Jewel Foster hears in her head is not her own. It tells her terrible things and has since she can remember. It’s a miracle she’s made it to sixteen.

One extraordinary night changes everything.

There are scales over the eyes of mortals to prevent them from seeing the immortal. Jewel loses these and can now see the angels and demons that surround and interfere. Neither side is pleased that she can see them.

Now, both sides in a spiritual war press against her; a war that has raged since the Devil was cast out of Heaven.

Last week, one wanted her dead.

This week, they all do.

In the story, Jewel is being raised by a single mother in a small town. Mine, in fact. I keep using Kingsburg, California. She has one friend, wears the usual black, keeps her head down, and tries her best not to antagonize the voice in her head because she knows how terrible he can be. It isn’t Christian Fiction. This is R-rated material.

One night, she abruptly sits up in bed while the voice is on a rant and strikes her head hard against something. She doesn’t know what. All she knows is her glasses are broken because she heard them break. That is until she sees them sitting safely on her nightstand.

She picks them up carefully and puts them back on.

They’re not broken. But I heard them! What broke?

She looks back to the vinyl flooring and then widens her search area: the edge of the bed below her, the nightstand to her immediate left with its long-manicured wood legs, her thick mauve curtains that nearly touch the floor and a pair of the ugliest little feet she has ever seen poking out from behind them. They appear to be rotting with open sores.

What?

They look like they belong to a corpse that has been horribly burned in a house fire. They smell like it, too. Like rotten eggs. They do not move.

She covers her nose and follows the feet upward with her eyes. There’s a figure there partially hidden by the curtain panel. There’s a hand there holding onto the fabric, as if for dear life.

Her body tenses. She is seeing something and not seeing it at the same time, as if an out of body experience.

My God!

Her body goes rigid. Only her eyes seem to be able to move.

Blackened hands begat mangled fingers. Whatever it is, a right hand clutches the curtain. She can see the fine details where claw-like fingers almost pierce the fabric.

A terrified face peeks out now from behind the panel and looks at her. It is twisted in revulsion. The left hand holds the forehead, just as she did moments before. The nose that should have been centered there is missing. Only the stump of it remains. There is a gaping hole, thankfully draped in shadow. Red eyes stare back at her. Mucus leaks out of one like tears.

Jewel lowers her hand to her mouth. She needs to scream. She can already almost hear herself unleashing it. It will wake Layla as well as neighbors on either side of them.

Probably neighbors across the alley as well.

It will rattle the windows and threaten to break any delicate glass in the vicinity.

Only she doesn’t scream.

Something not of this world beats her to it.

As the story progresses, Jewel meets another student at school who also has a demon hounding him, making him think that it’s him. She tells herself to stay out of it but finds that she can’t do that.

Jewel stop, she thinks, but ignores it.

“No, they won’t,” she says, her voice strong. “And I’ll tell you why. There’s a voice telling you these things. I’ve heard it. I had one, too.”

She watches him tense.

“It told me horrible things to keep me down,” she continues. “It’s gone now, but you have one. It’s holding you back. ‘How in the world did you ever make Captain,’ it said to you. ‘I’m thinking you really should eat your dad’s Winchester.’ I forget what model number.”

He sits back, too. His face twists, then softens again. “1300,” he says. “It’s in my closet now. He hasn’t missed it. How did you…?”

“I told you how,” she replies and quickly leans forward. Before she can stop herself she finds that she has taken his hands into hers. His eyes look down at them. She tugs them one good time and he looks back up at her. “Don’t do it! ‘Only hurts for a second’ is bullshit! It hurts everyone who knows you forever!”

The bell rings. Break is over.

More blood drains from his face, if that is possible. His face twists up again and he quickly yanks his hands free and stands.

I told you, the more rational side of her brain thinks, sadly. She sits back away from the table.

Football Player says nothing further. He spins and storms away.

She stares straight ahead and tenses again. If Football Player regrets walking away or looks back at her even once, she never sees it.

The thing that has been torturing him was standing behind him the entire time. He stands near the bench seat that Football Player has just vacated. The thing glares at her.

“Pretty proud of yourself, aren’t you?” he growls.

Jewel only stares.

“This isn’t over, you know,” he says. “He doesn’t believe you… I won’t let him.”

Jewel exhales loudly. “Yes, he does.”

The thing just shakes his head.

Jewel unexpectedly smiles. “Yes, he does,” she says. She feels strangely empowered. “He’s going to put that gun right back where he found it. He’s going to do that today!”

The thing smiles back at her. It’s the same toothy grin he gave her in class. “No, he isn’t,” The thing says, still shaking his creepy head, dramatically. He slowly backs away. “Fuck you, Jewel, but he isn’t going to do that.”

“Fuck you right back, you little barbecued bastard.”

The thing laughs.

She meets her guardian angel who cautions her to stay out of it, but she can’t do that. She physically interacts with some minor demons, but he warns her that it’s easy when they’re small.

“So, you are the girl?” she says. Her voice is low, but strong. “I have heard so much about you.” She closes her mouth and nods very methodically. “So very much.”

She sits up, but her grip never wavers. It’s like a vise.

“None of us have ever heard of such a thing,” she continues. “It’s quite extraordinary.”

Jewel searches frantically about her, but there is no escape.

The demon furrows her brow. There are no eyebrows there. Only rough skin that perhaps once held hair. Jewel sees the skin pull up into deep ravines there below her forehead.

“Are you looking for your angel?” she asks, then nods sarcastically with a cruel smile. “Of course you are.” She leans in close once again. “He’s not here. Hoo! Just us.” She grins and another glob of spittle breaks free and falls onto her. “What shall we talk about?”

Jewel just stares, eyes bulging.

“What’s this? Nothing to say? But you have been so brash and ballsy these few days, and now nothing? I am quite surprised. I expected more.”

The demon stiffens and sits up as if momentarily distracted. She looks off as if listening for something. She stares at one wall and then turns toward another. Still, she continues to dig incrementally into Jewel’s face. She releases pressure then applies it again, like a cat that has caught its dinner and wants to play with it first. Jewel can do nothing but watch. The demon’s face, seemingly content that a bigger cat hasn’t come to claim her meal for herself, turns back to Jewel.

“Sad,” she says, finally. “I had hoped for more. I tell you what we’ll do,” she begins. “I will remove my hand from your face. You will say nothing unless I tell you. Understand?”

Jewel nods slowly.

“Good, but here’s the thing: If you disobey me, I will rip out your fucking tongue and eat it right in front of you. Do you hear me, child? Right in front of you.”

Lastly, since the story takes place in the same town as my edgy vampire series, could the two worlds collide…? Yes, I think they will. Throughout the story the vampire myth gets broached a time or two. Not enough to catch your attention, but just enough that the reader only remembers when Jewel makes a surprise meet/cute with a character from that series. Yes, The Color of Sound is a standalone book, but also actually Dance on Fire book 3.5. She will join the team in what I’m writing next: Dance on Fire 4.

It does have a tentative title other than simply number 4, but I’m keeping that close to the vest for now.

We’ll talk soon.