Spectre Romantica Prologue and Ch.1

Spectre Romantica

Prologue

On that fateful midnight, a house was pitch black except for a single, fleeting, moment in time as lightning struck. The bolt of plasma temporarily illuminated the insides of the unsettled dwelling. The stairs creaked ominously while the only living being in the place scurried down them. The figure did not belong in this home. The true residents - a couple and their daughter - were sprawled out on the wooden floors of newly polished oak. A white rug in the second bedroom was sprinkled with scarlet. The crimson tears of hearts flowed out from gaping wounds on the lifeless bodies in torrents. The figure hesitated, glancing back at the staircase behind him, before fleeing the scene. A scene, so brutal… the small town of Glenwood, Rhode Island couldn't have possibly imagined it; even in the citizens' most horrid of nightmares…

Chapter One: Oddities

The rain trickled down lightly. You could hardly call it rain at all, but the boy could hear it's pitter-patter on his window, nonetheless. He tackled his bed and burrowed under his black satin covers and wool comforter. His name was Devitt Hastings. Devitt was a very unusual boy, to say the least. His hair was as black as his sheets and came down to his shoulders, maybe a bit past. Even more captivating then his silky hair and handsome face were his eyes. They could be called silver, simple and plain… but upon closer observation they were so much more. A shining almost purple color in the iris, they seemed to gaze at something only these soulful eyes could comprehend… Peggy Hastings, the boy's mother, hadn't the foggiest clue what to make of her only child. Her son's obsession with horror, fantasy, mystery, and paranormal genres confused and concerned her. She entered his room, startled, as always by the numerous herds of oddities he collected. Masks, weapons, shelves of figurines, skulls, and books adorned half of the wall space in the bedroom. The rest can only be described as violet. Peggy shook her head and made her way across the fluffy, scarlet carpet to the ebony-posted bed. She patted the lump until the head of her 18-year-old appeared out from under the covers. The women sighed. "Devitt, dear," she began softly, "I know you hate rainy days, but PLEASE do something productive. And I don't mean dusting skulls or polishing knives. Or playing video games. Or horror movies…." Devitt tuned her out at that point, for everything she named was the only things he would do… the only things he loved. He blamed his father. He was a detective. He's the one who got him interested in detective work, which is what ultimately led him to the paranormal. However, he quickly pushed the thought out of his head, not wanting to curse a dead man; especially one he had so, dearly, loved. All of the sudden, his mother said something that brought his attention back to her. "Is this about your father?"
   "….What?" Devitt set up and stared in disbelief. "What do you mean? He's dead! The only thing 'about' him now is his obituary, Mom!" Peggy set down on the mattress next to her son.
   "I mean… you've been getting stranger and more distant every day since your father… left us."
   "He didn't leave us. He was stolen from us. What's your point?" She placed a hand on his shoulder.
   "My point is, I've been reading some pamphlets---"
   "Oh no," he interrupted, which got him a gentle smack on the head.
   "--- and I think you're, well, lashing out. You miss your dad."
   "No dur, Sherlock." he got up and walked to the window. His mother's expression turned depressed.  Peggy stalked him to the window and hugged him tightly from behind.
   "Devitt. You're so distant, and depressed. I know you are… And I'm worried. So, I, well, took you out of the home schooling system. You're starting public school tomorrow!" Devitt froze, stunned into silence before turning around, mouth agape.
   "You're joking, right, Mom?" She shook her head no. The teenager slid down the wall until he was flat on his butt on the carpet. "But, I've been home-schooled my entire life! I don't know how to act around people!"
   "Which worries me deeply, honey. We shouldn't have done that, but your father… Oh, I don't know what Gregg was thinking. Anyways, Devitt, just, please, try your best. A little socializing should do you good. You should… get your stuff all ready tonight, and take a shower. I'll have dinner ready for you when you get out." With that, she lifted him up off the ground, and lightly kissed his forehead. She smiled softly and left the room, gently closing the door behind her. Devitt again flopped down on his bed and groaned in frustration, screaming into his pillow. He rolled over and peered up at the popcorn-styled ceiling, deep in thought. For the first time in his life, he was frightened. This boy had never gone to public school. He groaned again and thought to himself,
   "Stupid Mom… I love her, but how could she do this to me without even asking?! I do not want to do this… but… maybe she is right… about the being around people thing. How am I supposed to be a good detective if I don't know how to act around people?"  He sighed and stood up. On his way to his bathroom he grabbed clothes for bed, and for tomorrow. The teen tossed them down on the side of the tub then returned to his room to shove pencils, folders and what-not into his messenger bag. Afterwards, he took a warm shower, and, as his mother stated, dinner was ready when he got downstairs. The two Hastings where silent as they ate their meal, Peggy staring at her child with obvious concern. Devitt rolled his eyes and left to his room without a word, once again locking himself away from the world as he drifted off to sleep…