Darkness and Kryikos
By Henry Keys
Book 1
of the Nicolas and Kryikos series
Prologue:
An Accident Happens on School Grounds
Squeeeeak! I could finally see the windows of the car. Frost covered the window like a sheet of snow. Sqeeeeak! The frost fell away under my fingertips, and I was surprised by how many cars there were. My hand instantly dropped to my laden backpack, reminding myself it was the last school day before winter break.
A loud blast of music burned my eardrums. For once, I wished my mom would turn down the radio.
My mom’s name was Alexandra, though everyone called her Alex. She loved rock n’ roll, but didn’t have a favorite band. She liked any band she could listen to, preferably on the radio. I liked rock n’ roll, but listening to it everyday going to school drove me crazy.
“Hey, mom, could you turn the radio down?”
“Hmm,” my mom hummed to the song. “Hmmmmm.”
I supposed she couldn’t hear me. I decided to give up. I grabbed a wad of tissue and stuffed it in my ears, trying to block out the dreadful singing.
Moments later, the black SUV pulled into the Elementary Green’s parking lot. The huge parking lot was big enough to fit 589 cars, and 692 people. That meant an average of- I didn’t know how many people would go into each car. He decided to ask Mrs. Carrioson, the math teacher, later.
“See you at 3:30!” I called to my mom. I saw her lips move, shouting something, but I couldn’t quite catch it. I simply nodded, and took off for school.
Then I noticed something. The clouds were moving, uncovering the sun. Two rays of light came through, directly on the huge SUV. They burned bright-white, then vanished.
I hurried to his car door, and peered inside. The place was a mess. It was burned from the inside, which scared me. But what scared me most was the body of my mother. She lay there, as if sleeping. However, I knew better. She was dead!
Here I was, Nico, son of Alexander Crenue, and my mother was dead. I was now an orphan at the age of 10.
Chapter 1
My Stepfather Falls Into A Permanente Sleep
A year later
It has been a year since my mother’s end, and I am getting used to being an orphan. Until this morning, when my whole life backfired.
I had gotten used to how my life was special, different. I had gotten used how my grandfather resented me. He had wanted an aggressive son. My father, Jonathan, had fit this goal but he had drowned on a ship called Las Madres, winner of the seas. It was said that the ship had gone to attack Cuba, but had failed. Go figure.
He drove into the school grounds, his head bopping to that terrifying rock’n’roll. This reminded me with a pang of my own mother, her cherish ways and ability to read your mind. She was annoying but a good mother.
I was brought out of dreamland by the sound of four tires screeching all at the same time, all at once. The sound of my grandfather’s cursing filled the car with loud and obnoxious noise.
“Can’t they move, the idiots!” he screamed. I closed my eyes, willing God to come down and somehow save me from my obnoxious grandfather. I didn’t have long to think however. My eyes widened at the thing, a brown weathered car, looking as if it had been in service for at least fifteen years, spiraling towards me. I ducked almost at once, as if I could duck death itself and the painful feeling as if drowning in my pain filled me.
When I woke up again from my painful unconscious sleep, I was lying in a wonderfully soft bed. After a minute of blinking dust off my eyelids, bright white uniforms swam into view. Nurses were walking around, all carrying various instruments.
Where am I? I wondered. Then I recognized the place. Johnson Hospital in New England.
Another thought went through my brain. What am I doing here? Am I injured? Or is it something else…?
Then I remembered the crash. “Stepfather, are you there?” I wanted to say, but my parched lips would not utter anything other than a grunt. I felt like bawling my eyes out. I wanted to know if my stepfather was alive, but at the same time, I didn’t want to find out that he was or dead.
Finally, I got enough strength to lift my head.
I saw a long bed next to mine. Two long, silken curtains hung around it, curtains that looked fearsome for no reason at all. I had a feeling like whatever was behind those curtains I didn’t want to see.
I knew what those curtains meant. And I knew what must’ve happened in the crash. Most likely, I thought, my stepfather is dead.
But I was very curious. I wanted to know how it had happened. You don’t care about him! a little voice in the back of my mind screamed. Just get out of here as fast as possible!
But my conscious overwhelmed the little voice. I wanted the information about my stepfather’s death very badly.
