Author Bio Joel T. McGrath is a proud member of the New Hampshire Writers’ Project. He is a four-time top 20% choice for the Amazon Breakthrough Novel Award with four different manuscripts. He has sold foreign rights to his first novel through a literary agent in Turkey. Joel is currently working with a Disney illustrator on a graphic novel and hopes to release portions of the work in summer 2017. Author Links: Website | Facebook
Excerpt
CHAPTER ONE
Sweating
heavily, Vincent threw the blankets off his bed. The room was dark, yet emitted
sunny splices of midday heat. Beams of light shot through his blackout
curtains. The temperature in the tiny, empty room rose with each passing minute.
His eyes shifted back and forth beneath closed lids. He was dreaming, but not
just dreaming, something eternal was guiding his dreams, feeding him
purposeful, random memories of recent days.
Vincent’s
eyes shifted rapidly from side to side.
Random words
and pictures of his brother, Jak, his girlfriend, Noemi, and his master, Malum,
sped through his mind in echoes along with his own confused thoughts and
feelings. Most of all, he dreamt about that terrible night not long ago in the
New York City subway station. His bitter memories and sweet dreams merged,
returning nightmares upon his unconscious soul.
Vincent
dreamt about the golden wheat fields. He was hand in hand with Noemi. She
smiled with a sort of playful lust. He grabbed her hips and kissed her inviting
lips like a man that wanted something more. He held her by the waist, but she
disappeared from his hands. Falling droplets of cold rain descended from a sea
of dark clouds. An ominous sky choked out the last remnants of the sun’s
glimmering rays, and thunder rolled in on him.
Vincent was
suddenly in a foggy haze by himself. Words and pictures floated around on all
sides, but none stayed very long.
“I love you
more than anything, Noemi.”
“Have you
ever wanted something so badly, but no matter what, you couldn’t have it?”
“I’m the
one that loved you like no one else ever could.”
“Vincent,
help me!”
Suddenly,
Vincent found himself in a black room and then in an abandoned subway station.
The dream broke from memory for a moment, and whispers cluttered, fading low
and loud in a never-ending circle.
“Noemi’s
filling your head with lies.”
“She loves
me. I bet that just kills you, doesn’t it, bro?”
“Stop being
an arrogant little prick.”
“Don’t
forget, little brother, I win. I always win!”
“Stop
calling me little brother!”
“You are a
lost soul in a lost world.”
“I’m not
obsessed. The Shroud, the knights, they’re all lying to us.”
“You’re
selfish.”
“Don’t go
back. Malum will kill you!”
“I’m sick
of your empty promises.”
“Malum’s
too powerful.”
“I’m risking
my life to be with you.”
“I
certainly don’t need a man to save me, never mind a boy.”
“What other
stuff are you hiding from me?”
“You’ve
changed. Jak never treated me like this.”
“Well, I’m
sorry I’m not him!”
“I bet you
really did kill Jak.”
Vincent’s heart
raced. He tossed and turned. His arms and legs kicked and punched the empty
bed. He kept dreaming. Some things were clear while others remained jumbled
Out of
their proper place and time, random memories mixed with images and insights not
previously known by Vincent. It was dark, and then broken lights hummed and
blinked on and off inside a deserted subway station. Vincent knew the script,
yet was powerless to effect change. He knew what was coming, but he could not
stop himself or warn Jak. He was trapped in a memory so real, it was haunting
the conscious portion of his unconscious mind.
Vincent,
sitting, held his skateboard and looked straight ahead. “Are you still mad
about us?”
Jak, in a
trench coat and sunglasses, at first, refused to answer. He clenched his teeth
and glared sideways at his younger brother, yet took a deep breath as he put
his hand on Vincent’s shoulder. “It is true. I loved her once, as she loved me.
However, Noemi’s heart grew cold with deceit. Her treachery became daggers to my
soul. This thing she offers you, it is a lie.”
Memories of
angry, emotional banter ensued. Vincent’s dreams turned ever more distressing.
He felt an upsurge of hate and rage while he slept. Pictures flashed and words
shot back and forth between the brothers.
“You’re mad
because we’re together now, and that’s eating you up. I can feel it.” Vincent
reacted to benign comments with hasty perceptions.
Jak
struggled to remain calm. “You don’t actually think you mean anything to Noemi,
do you? I was always her first choice you know. She had a crush on you, little
brother, but she loved me.”
“That’s a
lie!”
“No,
Vincent. The Shroud’s evil deceits have twisted your mind. But you are not
beyond redemption. You need to be noble and have faith as you were taught by the
knighthood.”
“The humans
aren’t like us. Lord Malum says they are beneath us. We’re perfect. They’re
not.”
“These
words are not your own. They are the ramblings of a mad man who would rather
see everything burn than have peace. You must see reason, little brother.”
“Poor,
poor, Jak. You’ll never change. You always think you’re right about
everything.”
“Vincent,
your emotions are being manipulated. I feel another immortal’s presence.”
“You’re
delusional. It’s all lies, lies, and more lies.”
“It is not.
I swear to you.”
“It is. And
you have a funny way of apologizing.”
“I cannot
ask for forgiveness if you will not tell me why I should ask for it.”
“Noemi said
you’d say things like that. I didn’t believe her. How stupid could I be for
trusting you?”
The dream
became clearer, almost coherent. Vincent wrestled with his sheet as he thrashed
about. Yet no matter how much he convulsed, he kept sleeping.
Inside the
subway station, Vincent clenched his jaw and flung his skateboard at Jak. He
then summoned a pair of translucent red katana swords from nothing.
Jak twisted
his body, avoiding the skateboard. “Do not do this. Withdraw your strikers!” he
yelled.
Vincent
braced for battle. His face devoid of emotion, he wrapped his fingers tightly
around the swords he summoned. “You are no longer my brother. You are now my
enemy.” Vincent thrust the glowing strikers toward his brother’s stomach.
Jak
somersaulted backward. “I will not fight you like this!”
“Why? Is it
too real? It’s one thing to play gallant knight in the confines of the temple,
but it’s another thing to fight for your life. Now summon your striker or I’ll
put you down like a dog.” Vincent waved his pair of translucent red, blazing
strikers through the air. The heat from the blades swirled waves of trailing
light as they moved.
Jak opened
his palms, displaying no weapon. “I will not fight you. Why do you resent me
so?”
“Get over
yourself. You will fight, or you will die.” Vincent paused. “Wait. I remember.
The code. What was it? Oh yeah, how did it go?”
Jak
extended his hand toward his brother. “Don’t!”
Vincent
smirked. “Until the last enemy…”
“Has been
brought to nothing.” Jak hung his head, as he was obligated to finish the rest.
“Why did you say that? I have no choice now.”
“One thing
I know about the knights, they keep with tradition. Even when it kills them.”
“Tzzzztt.”
Vincent’s blades hissed with electric energy.
Jak looked
down, closed his eyes, and waited.
Vincent
charged with a battle cry and raised strikers.
Jak
summoned his translucent blue sword just as Vincent chopped his katana blades
down toward his neck.
Vincent
huffed. His blade radiated sparks against Jak’s sword.
Jak grit
his teeth. His biceps strained from the pressure of two swords against his one.
“We are family.” Jak grimaced.
“Stop
pretending that you care!” Vincent shouted. “You don’t know anything about me!”
Jak
grunted. “You have a choice.” Vincent’s strength pushed him to the ground. “We
all have a choice. No matter what others might have us believe.”
“I… I want
to…” Vincent felt an emotional tug, and in his heart, there arose a conflict.
Jak’s arms
started to weaken from fatigue. “Good, now remove your strikers so we can
talk.”
At that
moment, Vincent also sensed a presence urging him onward. “Lord Malum will…”
“Do not
fear Malum, for he is no lord. His only true power lies in the illusion of
fear,” Jak said. “Come now, release your grip,” he urged his brother, “and let
us talk of a reunion like in times gone past.”
“I don’t
want to talk anymore! You always get your way, and I’m sick of it!” Vincent
pressed his strikers harder.
Jak soared
backward. “That is enough! I am not indulging you any longer. You are nothing
more than an ill-tempered child. I will drag you home if I have to.” Jak
charged toward his younger brother with a determined, focused stride.
Vincent
braced.
The blades
of the brothers clashed together in violent fury, causing an onslaught of blue
and red sparks. The mystic currents sizzled and hissed with each violent blow
of the swords. A transcendent clash between two immortals began in a mortal
world that was ill-prepared for what was secretly unleashed upon it.
Vincent was
relentless. He kicked and swung his blades repeatedly.
Jak fended
off Vincent’s overcharged, explosive attacks. He coiled his entire body through
the air, landing with a knee to his younger brother’s stomach.
Vincent
fell on the ground. He cradled his abdomen. He spread his fingers and reached
out to the side. He moved his hand toward his brother, causing a trashcan to
fly toward Jak, who promptly sliced the solid metal container in two.
“Is that
the best you can do, little brother? Because I have to say, I am not
impressed.” Jak casually walked toward Vincent who remained sitting on the
grimy subway floor. “Why do you not remember all of the good times that we had
growing up together? All of this just for a girl…”
Vincent
interrupted. “She’s not just a girl to me. Maybe Noemi was just some girl to
you, but not to me. And for the record, you had way more good times than I
did.” Vincent hid his tears. “Maybe this will impress you!” Lying on his back,
he reached into the air, straining his entire body until his skin reddened and
quivered. With invisible power, Vincent pulled the broken subway lights and
some of the ceiling down on top of Jak. The concrete piled over him with dust
and debris several feet high.
“Shrak-ak-ak-a.
Screeech. Shrak-ak-ak-a. Screeech” The faint sounds of a distant train broke
the eerie silence.
Vincent,
shocked by his own powers, withdrew his blades and rushed toward the pile of
debris. “Jak, Jak, are you all right? I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt you.”
The fear in his voice resembled that of a younger brother rather than a mighty
equal. He frantically dug through the mess.
A bloody
hand reached up and grabbed his arm. Jak emerged from the pile of dust,
fragments of ceiling, and shattered glass that covered him. Miniscule drops of
crimson red flowed along his sleeve, down his pinky finger, and dripped off his
hand as globules of deep rose blush on the ground. Jak seized his brother by
the arm, easily lifting him off his feet. Without hesitation, he abruptly threw
Vincent across the subway floor.
The
momentum carried Vincent until he skidded off the safe confines of the platform
and plummeted onto the tracks.
Jak looked
down at his trench coat and dismissively flapped it off. Clouds of chalky,
powdery dust consumed him. He coughed and hacked from the concentrated residue
that engulfed his senses. “If you will not stop this petty rivalry, I will.”
Jak, so preoccupied, failed to see how Vincent had fallen onto the tracks and
into the path of the oncoming train. “I see the Shroud has taught you a couple
of new tricks. But they are simply that, tricks. You are no more a match for me
now than before, little brother.” He coughed and kept dusting his clothes off.
“Shrak-ak-ak-a.
Shrak-ak-ak-a.”
As the
train neared, the sound captured Jak’s attention. He looked up and saw his
brother slumped over on the tracks.
Vincent was
semi-conscious. “Aeeee. Agggh.” He rolled and moaned.
“Vincent,
wake up! Come on, little brother! Get off the tracks!”
The lights
of the train filled the dark tunnel ahead.
Vincent
groaned. He blinked through a set of blurry eyes. He sluggishly shook his head,
but stared idly at the train. Finally recognizing the imminent danger, he
staggered to his feet. Yet, he remained between the tracks as the train
barreled toward him.
Jak ran to
the edge of the platform. “You are injured. Give me your hand!” Jak got down on
his hands and knees. “Whatever you do, do not touch the third rail or you will
get electrocuted!”
Vincent
slowly reached for his brother’s hand as Jak extended it toward him. He
squinted at Jak’s hand and then withdrew his. He looked behind at the third
rail and up at the oncoming train. His eyes remained fixed on the train’s
glaring light. “No, Jak. I can’t let you win again. I’ve worked too hard for
this. I won’t let you have Noemi. Unlike you and the other immortals, I’m not
afraid to die.” He briefly paused. “That’s why I’ll win this time.”
“Stop it!
Just stop it!” Jak shouted, pounding his fist against the concrete platform.
“This has gone on long enough! If you want to win so badly, then fine, you
win!” His arm nervously shook as he reached his hand out again.
“I can’t
win like that. Not like that.” His face lost all emotion. “No, today, I’m
taking what’s mine.”
Vincent
reached over and gripped the third rail, causing the train to jump its tracks
and slam the subway wall. The ground quaked. The lights blacked out in the
station. Then they flashed on and off before bursting like sparklers. The
lights popped one after another in grand fashion.
Slowly, and
with a painful wince, Vincent screamed as he pushed his free hand toward Jak.
Seven hundred and fifty volts of electricity exploded from Vincent’s hand, and
he directed a thick, electrified current at his brother.
Jak
summoned his striker and deflected the massive surge. The electricity parted,
blasting the sides of the walls behind him.
“KA-BOOOMMM!”
A deafening pop thundered through the station and resonated up to the streets
above, shattering windows and tripping car alarms as sound waves pulsed
throughout the city.
Vincent
released another wave of voltage. It pushed Jak beyond his physical limit,
forcing him backward from the platform’s ledge. Beneath Jak’s feet, the cement
floor buckled and the ceramic tiles busted like a series of spastic dominos
until he was pinned against the far wall at the back end of the station.
“Ha! Do you
like that?” Vincent laughed devilishly. “You never respected me! But after
today, you’ll never win again!” He pushed even more lightning bolts toward Jak.
“You’ll have to go home and tell them that you were beaten by your little
brother. Everyone will see that you’re not so perfect after all.”
Jak’s blue
striker crystallized from the intense heat of the electric bolts. “Aaaahh!” he
screamed. He tried to deflect the powerful torrents.
“You are
nothing!” Vincent yelled.
Jak wheezed
with the last of his strength. His words strained from the bottom of his
diaphragm to the tip of his tongue. “It is a shame. Your first victory will be
our last moment as brothers.” His face tightened. His brows merged. Moisture
soaked his forehead. His knuckles whitened around his striker. His muscles
locked up. “You need to know two things.” Jak paused to catch his breath. “I
love you. I always have… Aaaahh!” A chilling scream bellowed forth before he
could finish.
Vincent’s
anger softened once he had won. He tried to release the rail and stop the flow
of electricity, but something from beyond held his hand on the track. He
vigorously struggled to let go, but it seemed an invisible force kept his hand
there against his will.
Jak’s power
met its limits. His striker could no longer take the electrical assault. It
exploded into fragments of tiny blue shards. The lightning bolts devoured him.
Everything
went dark as Vincent collapsed.
A strange,
uneasy silence fell.
Face down,
Vincent clumsily groped his way through the pitch-black tunnel. With a
remorseful tone, he called out to his brother. “Jak, I’m sorry.” He began to
stutter. “I was just… I don’t know… I was being stupid and mad about dumb
stuff. I’ve never felt that kind of anger before. I didn’t know what I was
doing. I swear. I’m really, really sorry. ANSWER ME!”
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