Nocturne 040 – Scions 02 - Patrice Michelle - Insurrection Read Online Free
Author: Silhouette Nocturne
park area that backed up to the woods. Under her coat, the tiny hairs on her arms began to stand up, warning her.
Turning off her headlights, Kaitlyn reached beneath her seat and withdrew the NYPD-issue flashlight. She wrapped her fingers around the cool, heavy-duty metal and got out of the car.
Kaitlyn closed the door with a quiet click and took slow, even breaths. Pulling her coat out of the way, she rested her hand over her gun, tucked in its holster, as she scanned the shadowed playground. Adrenaline pumped through her veins and she turned her flashlight toward the merry-go-round slowing to its final spin at the same time she unsnapped the holster, removing her weapon. Backup would be there soon, she told herself as an invisible force seemed to pull her toward the play equipment.
An owl hooted; its deep night call sliding icy fingers down her spine. She gripped the gun’s handle, while cool air, laced with the faint scents of home fires and pine, kissed her cheeks.
“Police officer. Come out now!” She moved across the parking lot, and puffs of frosted air plumed in front of her with each breath she took. As soon as she stepped out of the streetlight’s glowing circle into the darkened playground, a grating, nails-on-a-chalkboard sound echoed in the darkness, skidding all the way to her bones.
She froze in place. Her breath caught while she listened for the source of the sound. Another piercing squeak echoed before the equipment came to a complete halt.
The merry-go-round.
Her flashlight swept the monkey bars, the play hut and slide. Whoever it was must be gone now. The tension in Kaitlyn’s stomach eased and she began to breathe again. Confidence restored, she started toward the shadowed equipment with assured strides.
A gust of wind rushed past her, so strong, so specifically directed—as if someone or something had dashed right past her at a rapid pace—it flapped open her coat, sending frigid air straight through her cotton button-down shirt underneath.
Her skin prickled and Kaitlyn halted. Cinching her grip around the gun, she quickly traced the wind’s path with the light.
Not a soul. Only leaves floating in the air and her car sitting in the dimly lit parking lot behind her. I’m losing it.
Shrugging, she faced forward once more. This time she tuned into every little sound. Broken glass and leaves crunched beneath her shoes’ hard soles, and tiny pebbles scattered out of her way as she approached the merry-go-round.
She could go back to her car and wait, but an underlying “need to know”
drove her forward.
Once she reached the merry-go-round, she shone the beam of light on the base. Faded, chipped blue and red paint created pie pieces on the round wooden floor. An empty beer bottle sat in the middle. Kaitlyn sighed and gripped the merry-go-round’s cool metal handrail with her gun hand, while she scanned her flashlight across the open field behind the playground and then into the dark forest beyond. Other than a blanket of low fog hanging a few inches above the cool grass, nothing was there.
Shaking her head at the boondoggle call someone had made to the police, she turned to leave, but something caught her eye in the open field behind the playground. The wind must’ve blown the fog away, exposing what had been hidden underneath.
Glowing embers. Fiery orange.
Beckoned by an unseen force, she ran toward the bits of burning ash. As she moved closer, the smell of burned hair and flesh permeated the air, making her stomach roil.
When she reached the area and the full ashy sight came into focus, the need to retch grew so strong, she gagged. Surrounding the ashes left behind, a glowing, aura-like outline remained where a body had once lain. The aura revealed arms and legs in a straight-out position, as if the victim had been staked to the ground.
Her pulse raced out of control and she began to shake all over. She knew most people didn’t see auras, especially of dead people, like she
Turning off her headlights, Kaitlyn reached beneath her seat and withdrew the NYPD-issue flashlight. She wrapped her fingers around the cool, heavy-duty metal and got out of the car.
Kaitlyn closed the door with a quiet click and took slow, even breaths. Pulling her coat out of the way, she rested her hand over her gun, tucked in its holster, as she scanned the shadowed playground. Adrenaline pumped through her veins and she turned her flashlight toward the merry-go-round slowing to its final spin at the same time she unsnapped the holster, removing her weapon. Backup would be there soon, she told herself as an invisible force seemed to pull her toward the play equipment.
An owl hooted; its deep night call sliding icy fingers down her spine. She gripped the gun’s handle, while cool air, laced with the faint scents of home fires and pine, kissed her cheeks.
“Police officer. Come out now!” She moved across the parking lot, and puffs of frosted air plumed in front of her with each breath she took. As soon as she stepped out of the streetlight’s glowing circle into the darkened playground, a grating, nails-on-a-chalkboard sound echoed in the darkness, skidding all the way to her bones.
She froze in place. Her breath caught while she listened for the source of the sound. Another piercing squeak echoed before the equipment came to a complete halt.
The merry-go-round.
Her flashlight swept the monkey bars, the play hut and slide. Whoever it was must be gone now. The tension in Kaitlyn’s stomach eased and she began to breathe again. Confidence restored, she started toward the shadowed equipment with assured strides.
A gust of wind rushed past her, so strong, so specifically directed—as if someone or something had dashed right past her at a rapid pace—it flapped open her coat, sending frigid air straight through her cotton button-down shirt underneath.
Her skin prickled and Kaitlyn halted. Cinching her grip around the gun, she quickly traced the wind’s path with the light.
Not a soul. Only leaves floating in the air and her car sitting in the dimly lit parking lot behind her. I’m losing it.
Shrugging, she faced forward once more. This time she tuned into every little sound. Broken glass and leaves crunched beneath her shoes’ hard soles, and tiny pebbles scattered out of her way as she approached the merry-go-round.
She could go back to her car and wait, but an underlying “need to know”
drove her forward.
Once she reached the merry-go-round, she shone the beam of light on the base. Faded, chipped blue and red paint created pie pieces on the round wooden floor. An empty beer bottle sat in the middle. Kaitlyn sighed and gripped the merry-go-round’s cool metal handrail with her gun hand, while she scanned her flashlight across the open field behind the playground and then into the dark forest beyond. Other than a blanket of low fog hanging a few inches above the cool grass, nothing was there.
Shaking her head at the boondoggle call someone had made to the police, she turned to leave, but something caught her eye in the open field behind the playground. The wind must’ve blown the fog away, exposing what had been hidden underneath.
Glowing embers. Fiery orange.
Beckoned by an unseen force, she ran toward the bits of burning ash. As she moved closer, the smell of burned hair and flesh permeated the air, making her stomach roil.
When she reached the area and the full ashy sight came into focus, the need to retch grew so strong, she gagged. Surrounding the ashes left behind, a glowing, aura-like outline remained where a body had once lain. The aura revealed arms and legs in a straight-out position, as if the victim had been staked to the ground.
Her pulse raced out of control and she began to shake all over. She knew most people didn’t see auras, especially of dead people, like she
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