The Silverskin (Seven & Eva In French's Forest)

By Rian Torr

Not long after they moved in together, Eva’s black-outs got so bad that her relationship with Seven became strained-as his thoughts started drifting back to his ex Faye, who was all but a ghost to him now. So when she insisted that he take her to French’s Forest, to visit with his reclusive family for the first time, the horror of introducing her to his strange fanged kin was only secondary in concern, next to his mounting fear that Faye would grow dangerously jealous of Eva-and try to take back what She felt was rightfully Hers.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Rian Torr
• Release date: Feb 4, 2018
• ISBN: 9781370708000

Rian Torr

43 Year Old Canadian Author Free Serialization of Silverskin for a limited time at: silverskin.ca Official Hompage: riantorr.com

Book preview

THE SILVERSKIN

(Seven & Eva In French's Forest)

10th Anniversary Edition

(Expanded & Revised)

Rian Torr

silverskin.ca

"The true man wants two things:

danger and play.

For that reason he wants woman,

as the most dangerous plaything."

- Friedrich Nietzsche

"The lady, with guile in heart,

Came early where he lay;

She was at him with all her art,

To turn his mind her way."

- Sir Gawain

And The Green Knight,

Anonymous

"Doubt thou the stars are fire,

Doubt the sun doth move,

Doubt truth to be a liar

but never doubt thy love."

- Hamlet, Shakespeare

"Put your hand on a hot stove

for a minute and it feels

like an hour.

Sit with a pretty girl for an hour

and it seems like a minute.

That is relativity"

- Albert Einstein

De Ordine Et Fabula

(The Order Of Play)

I.

The Snake & The Silverskin

i. To French's Forest For Love

ii. Rifts Torn In The Ether

iii. Into Her Mercurial Embrace

iv. The Carnage At Her Heels

v. Fall Down On The Frozen Path

vi. Hurtling Toward Bane House

vii. Fangs From The Shadows

II.

The Undead Lust Without End

viii. She’s Really Out There

ix. When Death Blows In

x. Sheds Her Skin For Me

xi. The Spiders That Spare Us

xii. Sate His Veins At Her Font

xiii. When She’s Done With Me

xiv. Gut Instinct Just To Be Hers

III.

May Your Dogs Always Roam

xv. Race For The River Payne

xvi. Been Burned By Her Before

xvii. Walking Tall Toward The Shore

xviii. She Would Watch Them Perish

xix. Torches Guided Them Home

xx. Under Stars After Hours

xxi. Pall Over The World

IV.

Lingering Amour For The Trees

xxii. Safe Under His Fox Skin

xxiii. Love Made Them A Magnet

xxiv. Lights Danced In Darkling Eyes

xxv. Crown Of The Black Fall Boughs

xxvi. Up In Supreme Consciousness

xxvii. Liberated From The Wood

xxviii. Before Stars Of A Higher Rarity

V.

Under Silver Shallows

xxix. Intangible In His Arms

xxx. She Cast An Icy Shadow

xxxi. Tears Are Not Good Enough

xxxii. No Slivered Shadow Allowed In

xxxiii. Hell Of An Hour For This

xxxiv. Wood Energies Were Surging

xxxv. To Jump In After Her

VI.

Never Stray From The Ruddy Stroll

xxxvi. Bringing Brother Back

xxxvii. Stone From The Gallows

xxxviii. Under The Blood Blizzard

xxxix. Ravenous For A Fleshfast

xxxx. French’s Forest, Form For Me

xxxxi. Intent On A Quick Exodus

xxxxii. No Good Neuron Brings It Back

VII.

Last Chance On Earth To Be In Love

xxxxiii. Horned Huntress From The Brush

xxxxiv. To The Watershed At Witchling Isle

xxxxv. Ghosts Of The New London Ripjoys

xxxxvi. Old Blacktree Lorded Over Them

xxxxvii. Once Commanded In Dreams

xxxxviii. French's Forest Is Never Left Behind

xxxxix. Escape By Raven's Way & Highway 9

I

The Snake &

The Silverskin

i. To French's Forest For Love

Eva ... Seven said softly, nudging his new love nervously—wishing she would wake. She had been slipping in and out for an hour now―curled up against him.

He brushed some stray red tresses back from her slumber-some face―exposing her neck, which he now gently kissed—hoping to gently rouse her.

He did not want to disturb her, but he could not resist it. He gently bit her. She moaned under the shallows of sleep—smacking her black lips, nostrils flaring.

It always made him edgy whenever she nodded off, for he knew how Faye would start cutting in at the shadows.

Even in the most serene hours that Eva ever slept―he had watched for his ex Faye to make Her next entrance—and so his life had slowly become unlivable.

Being so constantly at attention—forever unsure when She would come again—he had already spent too many a quiet sleepless morning in solemn prayer.

Likewise, watching over Eva in deep meditation, every dark and stormy night—he would hope against all odds, that Faye would never again return into his life.

This was his last chance at love.

He had eventually theorized that the reason Faye mainly materialized while Eva was undone from wakefulness, was because it was at those times that his subconscious was more easily swayed over Her way—allowing Her to thus more accurately sense his presence, wherever he was at―even as far beyond the reaches of French's Forest as New London.

‘Come back to Me, Seven,' She would beckon to him. ‘Come back to the woods where you've always belonged. Look inside the dark recesses of your heart—and you will find I have always been waiting there, still caged by these crooked trees that you once called home.’

Plus, to make matters worse, Eva often suffered from fainting spells—due to an old childhood concussion—during which times Faye's appearances increased.

Eva even knew when a spell was coming on, for her mind would cloud over in what she called her ‘black thoughts'―and nothing blocked them.

Her eyes would roll back—leaving him scrambling for her smelling salts—looking over his shoulders in every direction for Faye to suddenly materialize.

So far Eva had always recovered from every episodes with a braver determination―but there ever remained this underlying tension between them―forever braced for anything, in anticipation of pending future occurences.

Everything had really started getting worse once they began living together.

Due to different work schedules, Eva had taken to falling asleep before Seven.

For a few months everything was uneventful—but then one dreadful midnight, to his heart-sinking horror he heard a small scratching at the window.

He snuck across the room to peek outside—but there was nothing there.

Cranking the pane open, he leaned out to take in the cool damp night air.

There was a stillness about the city that soon left him most darkly disquieted.

A train whistled in the distance like woodwinds heralding a calm before dawn.

Crawling back under covers―he lay awake listening to the random urban soundscape—and just like he did every night, he thanked his lucky stars that French's Forest was many miles away.

He slowly closed his eyes―and his mind's eye rolled over the city's towered skyline―observing the myriad denizens of the streets far down below beneath him.

No matter how dangerous the alleys of New London ever were, the woods of his youth were what truly always haunted his days, what reminded him of real fear.

Everyday thugs and thieves left him most immensely reassured in contrast to the memory of the terror that was Faye.

Growing up in French's Forest had steeled him for the big city streets in ways only he would ever now truly understand.

The haunting sounds of an eerie breeze―and the traumatic memories of ghoulish, supernatural encounters—were enough to numb him to the worst kind of scum New London could ever conjure up.

The truth was in contrast to French's Forest this town seemed so very tame.

Now just then he began to sense a growing malevolence at the gates to his mind—which worried him to no good end.

He tried to shut out the feelings by closing his eye-lids―but there came to him an awareness of a third presence in the room. After he could deny it no longer, he opened his eyes once more―and gasped to see Faye's silver body slithering upside-down across the ceiling toward him—hissing as She did—insidiously menacing in Her deliberate approach, silently stalking Her prey.

Her long black hair hung down hiding Her horns—exposing Her wickedly pointed ears. Her green eyes glowered and glowed down at him. Her silver skin sometimes seemed silken as tissue—sometimes molten as lava. She took on many forms—but always cast a formidable terror into any who looked upon Her.

He tried to scream for help, but nothing sounded—and Eva remained fast asleep, apparently deeply undisturbed.

He tried to move, but he found himself paralyzed—and Faye hovered down on to him now—with a dark, mischievous intent emblazoned upon Her face in a malevolent expression of rage.

As She descended—he could not protest—and She took his carnal body that night, for hours on end, grinning evilly throughout—with Eva curled up quietly next to him, wholly clueless to the dark trespass and ongoing transgression.

From that day forward he felt hollow in spirit, in the hellish after-thoughts that he had irreversibly spoiled his love with Eva by letting Faye get through his guard, to have him Her way against his wishes.

He had been used and toyed with like an animal to Her cunning eyes and seductress smile. His will was suspended for just one night, long enough to ruin the rest of his life, long enough to lose it all.

But he knew it would serve nothing to tell Eva now, for that would be a selfish act, just to make himself feel better, when it was Faye who was to blame not Eva. Evan did not deserve to be punished for Faye's fallen ways. He would be brave.

Now at least, he hoped that by bringing Eva back to the Forest, he could redeem himself, by proving his feelings for her—and finding some inner peace again.

He would introduce her to his family—and if nothing else—for once and for all—Faye would know who he truly cherished—and with whom he was truly finished.

Faye would grow terribly jealous, he knew in his heart, and possibly try to intervene—but he had no choice, he had to show Eva how he truly genuinely felt.

ii. Rifts Torn In The Ether

Even when Eva was only half-asleep―or lightly off adrift in a daydream—Faye would somehow find Her way into their dimension, through rifts torn in the ether. She would easily sneak Her way in.

Eventually, out of desperation to get away from the Silverskin―Seven convinced Eva to move with him all the way out to Old York—which was even further from French's Forest than New London—and possibly altogether free of that old weald’s supernatural influence.

In so doing then, he hoped to finally stem off every last trace of the Silverskin in his life—and finally be free of Her wrath.

He remembered how dreadfully bloodless Eva's face had drawn upon hearing the words 'French's Forest' for the first time―as if she had been there before.

But she had shortly recovered herself and made it understood that she would support him wherever he needed her to go—whether it be there―or all the way out to Old York—or to the other side of the world―if that was where she had to go—in order that she may be with him.

So then, after re-settling in a new city, his visions of Faye did dissipate—and life started returning to shine and roses after all―without having Her meddling in the mix—ever trying to take him back.

He and Eva began finding happiness again—and things started improving beyond words could express—in a dream.

But now today, they were once more back in New London—en route home to French's Forest—and every time they came through this town―Faye made Her omnipresence most absolutely clear.

He remembered the last time that he had seen Her here, several months ago, on a shopping trip of all occasions.

They were in Main Square—and Eva was trying on a random black wig just for fun—when Seven accidentally called her 'Faye'—and she now suddenly fainted.

After racing her to Emergency, he remembered pacing about the hospital wing, impatiently waiting on nurses—when he was suddenly overtaken by nausea.

Retiring to the restroom, he splashed cold water on his face—when thoughts of Her began creeping back in.

Glancing in the mirror then―he saw the Silverskin crawling down the wall behind him―with Her yellow-black anaconda Draca coiling about Her sinewy silver body as she stalked her prey.

Two black horns stabbed out from under locks that danced upon Her head like so many sick snakes of death.

Electricity licked over Her killer curves in electric gaits—and when Her green eyes met his—he felt a flash of energy zap through his mind—as if reading his thoughts, stealing his mind.

Then Her eyes began darting side-to-side―catching him up in a dizzying ocular lock of a mystical bent—and he was soon paralyzed by Her mesmerizing gaze.

She then pointed one deadly long oil drop nail at him—as Her forked black tongue ran hungrily over jagged incisors.

‘Lucky ... Lucky ...’ She quietly began to sing in a blackly slickened lisp.

Draca uncoiled from Her waist, stretching out toward Seven—with equally hungry eyes as Faye, tensing up to strike.

Seven spun about―crying out―throwing his arms wide―but the snake and the Silverskin were gone.

His heart broke off from its rapid pounding. Sweat beaded upon his brow.

He looked in the mirror―but it was empty. The phantom was gone for now.

Gradually, he managed to recover himself. He focused on calm and collect.

He finished washing his face—wiping away his fear with a paper towel—when turning to leave—he bumped directly into a stranger who was just then walking in.

Apologizing distractedly―he quickly retreated to the waiting room—where he was sure to not mention any of it to Eva.

Am I going to make it? Eva jested, as Seven sat so quietly at her bedside.

Come on Mr. Gloomy, talk to me.

I'm just worried about you babe, these episodes seem to be getting worse.

Don't say that, you're always so pessismistic. I will be fine, don't worry.

I'm just trying to be realistic. Maybe there's some new experimental procedures we can inquire about trying.

Bite your tongue! You know better, Eva hissed. You know how deadly against pharmaceuticals I am.

She had tried more than a dozen different prescriptions and procedures in the past, even including some extremely strong anti-psychotic medication and torturous eletro-shock therapy. None of it had any effect upon her Black Thoughts.

In fact she often argued that a lot of it had actually made the episodes worse, and that she was much better off when she was a young girl before the doctors had started meddling with her mind. They had turned her into a guinea pig of sorts.

But for many years now she had avoided all treatments and begun to find herself again, despite the continued black outs. She found her center again, with a clearer mind to face the challenges of her condition with more capable faculties.

So Eva recovered from her spell that day—and like every other time, the doctors found nothing wrong with her.

Nevertheless and henceforward, however, her black-outs intensified—and in turn―Seven's visions of Faye refueled.

Even back in Old York, the Silverskin somehow managed to weasel her way back into their lives once in awhile, persistently nagging at the peripheries.

iii. Into Her Mercurial Embrace

New London was sparkling with the Christmas Season that foggy evening, and as their cab navigated the streets, Seven continued to dwell upon Faye's stalking.

He recalled one morning, while showering―half-way through shaving, his eyes had caught Faye's silver figure shimmering into sight through the glass stall door—again hanging upside down from the ceiling, now glaring at him wickedly from behind the heavy steam.

His knife slipped, cutting his cheek.

Blood spattered all across the glass.

Then the door burst open in a gale force wind―blasting him back against the stall wall as easily as if he were a doll.

He crumpled down―sliding broken-limbed to the shower floor under the stinging water needles—blood running from his face down his body to the drain.

Faye dropped down and stepped into the stall, now ablaze in a crackling blue fire. Her frame pulsed with a heady evil.

She knelt by him singing:

‘Lucky ... ... Lucky … …!’

She seized him by the neck and lifted him aloft, burning him in her azure flames—while slowly choking the life from him. Her wicked maw cackled at his pain.

All he could do was struggle futilely—weak-willed and stunned from the sudden hard fright—as the flames burned his face—and the air was cut off from his lungs. His flailed his arms helplessly.

She pried the knife free from his hand―that he had been clutching in a near death-grip—and She held it up to his twitching eye—playing with it like a shiny new toy. The relish in Her eyes was raw.

‘Here—let Me ...’ She cackled—carefully carving ‘VII’ into his cheek—as he cried out, unable to stop Her assault.

He came to several hours later―still on the stall floor, soaked to the core―shivering near hypothermia, for the hot water had long since turned ice cold.

His face ached in fresh burns and cuts. His body felt beaten and bruised. He had been attacked to within a hair's breadth of his life and his head pounded.

Eva clung to his side in the ambulance en route to the hospital, clutching his hand—promising him she would not leave his side—nor sleep apart. She would be with him until the very end.

Four months forward, he had healed enough to feel fully half-human again—and the scars were finally beginning to fade―but he remained entirely certain that the psychic shock would not abate before he died. His determination waned.

Then six months after their shower encounter—just when he had finally begun to recover some calm of mind again—while doing laundry in their Angel Street apartment complex basement—Seven once more found himself suddenly not at all alone. Once more the Silverskin arose.

First, a low humming edged out of the darkness from under the stairs—and then he heard a quiet singing voice of sin: ‘Lucky …! Lucky …! Lu-u-u-u-cky …!'

When he looked closer, some slanted light caught his eye there—and stepping over, he spotted Faye hanging upside-down under the stairs—green eyes flaring like fireworks—writhing wildly in the pitch. She pitted her gaze against his.

‘Lucky ... Lucky … Lu-u-u-cky!’

He slowly began to back away.

‘Lucky ... Lucky … Lu-u-u-cky!!!’

The door at the top of the stairs slammed shut. Faye was in total control.

He dashed up and grabbed the handle, but it would not open at all.

He pounded the door, yelling for anybody up there to help him get out.

‘Lucky ... Lucky … Lu-u-u-cky!!!'

Misty silver water began to flood the basement floor—pouring in at the cracks—gradually rising up the stairs. Her powers had grown. She was making her move.

The humming grew into a piercing, heady throb―leaving him disoriented. He could barely keep his focus let alone yell.

Draca's silhouette snaked back and forth beneath the surface of the silver water. He was the evil extension of Her.

‘Lucky … Lucky … Lu-u-u-u-cky …!!!’

Despite a fog that had settled over his mind—and a heaviness that had sunk into his bones―he continued to weakly pound the door, until he finally heard something on the other side and saw the handle beginning to turn. He gasped.

Thank God, he cried, pushing through as it opened—directly into Her waiting arms. She was on the other side.

She folded him into Her mercurial embrace—gnashing her black fangs into his pale neck—blood spurting from the punctured veins. She feasted on his life.

He screamed—and for just a moment, he blacked out—racing down into the depths of his mind, searching