B C Morgan [Morgan - Eternal

Eternal

The Ebony Child

Book One

BC Morgan

Contents

Copyright 2019 by BC Morgan

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters, and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the authors imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

BC Morgan asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

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Designations used by companies to distinguish their products are often claimed as trademarks. All brand names and product names used in this book and on its cover are trade names, service marks, trademarks and registered trademarks of their respective owners. The publishers and the book are not associated with any product or vendor mentioned in this book. None of the companies referenced within the book have endorsed the book.

First edition

Cover art by Savannah Richey

Formatting by Rozie Marshall

To my wonderful hubby who has supported me every step of the way, even if hes not a big fan of reading himself, my beautiful Twins who always bring light and laughter into my world and my mum who has been here for me every step of the way.

To every reader who takes the time to read Eternal and hopefully the books to come

And to everyone who played a part in making this book what it is, I couldnt have done it without you.

The Ebony Child

Book One

I was once born of blood, flesh, and bone, but no more. I lost that right when I gave up my soul for the hells to judge. Now I walk among the living, trying to find a way to fix this, but for all my might it may seem that I am no closer to fulfilling my mission. Stricken of the luxury to feel, taste, and fill my lungs up with air.

It's funny what you miss the most, once you have lost everything.

Please forgive me as I digress, but you learn to appreciate every little thing when you have nothing but time and no way to ever fully enjoy that time. So, let me tell you a story about a normal, typical, everyday kind of girl, who by making a choice damned herself for the rest of her eternal existence.

Unya

I could feel the bones crunching beneath my feet with every step I took. I kept telling myself that as long as I didnt look, I could not possibly know what it was I was walking upon. It was at that moment I was thankful for the utter darkness that was enshrouding me. I could see a light flickering ahead, but it was yet no aid to my sight until I drew closer and realised, I had been right. There were so many bones littering the ground; I could even see some which sizes ensured they had once belonged to a child. My hand flew up to my gaping mouth; I began to heave as I tried to banish the thought from my mind. I looked back up and was startled to see a young girl standing only inches in front of me. She held her hand out to me in invitation, but I did not dare accept it. Who are you, why would you be in this place? Her eyes narrowed in on me as she stepped even closer, and the smell of death permeated my nostrils. This is my home. Now come, I must take you to him, she replied. I slid my hand into hers and was shocked by the chill that spread like wildfire up my arm and straight into my chest. I clutched at my chest and was relieved to feel the reassuring thump.

We arrived at the end of a walkway which led to a throne made of bones. The child had a smile spreading across her face, which only increased my anxiety even more.

A man was standing at the base of the throne with two lads on either side of him. I tried to make out their faces, but I could only see their outline. I was drawn to the one on his left and I tried to close the distance between us, but the child had a vice-like grip upon my hand; she would not permit me to move. Watch, this is all because of you. Her words made me feel sick and I continued to struggle. The lad threw something at the menacing man, but he brushed it off with a cruel laugh. He threw his hand out and I watched on in horror as the lad was engulfed in flames. I felt the scream lodge in my throat as the lad cried out my name and the man looked at me. Hello, Unya.

I awoke with the scream on the tip of my tongue, but I managed to shake it off as I repeated the all too familiar mantra; it was just a dream. Id been experiencing them on and off for the past year, ever since I turned seventeen. At first, it had just been the floor covered in bones where I would hear a guy scream and then I would hit the ground running, but I never made it to him before I woke in a cold sweat. But lately, they had added the girl, the throne, and the terrifying man. I couldnt understand why my mind was fabricating such violent images or why I could never see the guys face, the one who cried my name. Every. Single. Time.

Once I managed to settle my breathing, I decided it was time to emerge from my pit and hoped today would be the day where I could successfully avoid the hell hound. AKA my Aunt Jackie.

Please dont start thinking of me as yet another disrespectful teenager. For one thing, Ill be eighteen in just under seven months and then I am out of here. But the point I am trying to make is ever since my mum offed herself and left me to pick up the pieces, Jackie has been making my life a misery. Its almost as though she is punishing me for landing on her doorstep. It wasnt my choice anyway; where the hell was, I supposed to go? Id only been fourteen when I had walked into the bathroom and discovered my mums body half submerged in the blood-stained water with her slit wrists on display for the world to see. Id love to say I had a normal reaction to what I saw, but how would I know? I dont exactly have any other situations I can compare it to.

I remember sitting down on the toilet seat lid and pulling out my phone. I remember calling the emergency services and reporting what I had found. And I remember feeling absolutely nothing. No bouts of nausea or hysteria, no uncontrollable shaking or hiccupping as I tried to catch my breath. It wasnt even as though I felt numb with shock. I just did not care.

I never told anyone about my reaction, even three years on and still, no one really knows what I went through on the day of my discovery. The psychiatrist said that the fact I hadnt cried was probably because my body had gone into a state of shock. Trying to cope with what must have been one of the hardest days of my life. I never argued with her, even though I knew she was wrong.

I now refer to that day as the Dark Day. Everyone says they understand my reasoning for the reference, but, how could they? They never asked and I never divulged it. Its not because it was a horrible day that destroyed my innocence, but because that was the day my emotions went dark and I stopped feeling anything.

I know how that must sound, especially when I woke on the verge of screaming. Its as though the only time my emotions come to life is when Im in a dream. I can still feel them when I awake, and I let myself believe this is the day they are going to make their reappearance but to no avail. Within five minutes they are gone, and I return to my state of utter numbness.