The Dark Seduction

By Jack Wallen

Obsession Possession Transgression Between the physical world and Hell lies The Dark Seduction, a plane of existence where magic and demons twist reality at will. When the key to this plane falls into the wrong hands, evil is but an obsession away from being unleashed upon the world. A dark desire to have the singer of rock band, Die So Fluid, leads Jonah to discover the magic and means to open a hidden door and draw Grog Rox into The Dark Seduction where her voice might be the only key to the bands and humankind’s survival.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jack Wallen
• Release date: Mar 16, 2018
• ISBN: 9781370435449

Jack Wallen

Jack Wallen is what happens when a Gen Xer mind-melds with present day snark. Jack is a seeker of truth and a writer of words with a quantum mechanical pencil and a disjointed beat of sound and soul. Although he resides in the unlikely city of Louisville, Kentucky, Jack likes to think of himself more as an interplanetary traveler, on the lookout for the Satellite of Love and a perpetual movie sign...or so he tells the reflection in the mirror (some times in 3rd person). Jack is the author of numerous tales of dark, twisty fiction including the I Zombie series, the Klockwerk Movement, the Fringe Killer series, Shero, The Nameless Saga, and much more.

Book preview

Prologue

The stink of filth rose from the heart of the Seduction. Demons danced to a rhythmic music meant only for the darkest ears.

It had been too long since last the planes had touched. Souls had withered to nothing, lost in an unfathomable darkness. Hope had drained into the spiraling abyss, only to be replaced by fear, woe, and hatred for everything.

Nothing brought comfort within the Seduction.

Until he arrived. The bringer of art, the singer of songs, the teller of tales long vanished from the hate-filled narrative.

She comes. The teller spoke in a vacant whisper to the perfectly silent crowd. The possessed will soon be summoned and the obsessed remade. The Seduction will bridge the darkness and the light until the lord of lords walks among the living.

The revenants of the Seduction unleashed a cry that threatened to crack the veil of darkness above. The teller raised his hands for silence.

She will sing for you. When her song of passion rains down upon your heads, do not give in to its grace. Be strong, children. Know that the Joining is upon us. Embrace the coming of our time and place beyond the Dark Seduction! The teller shouted until the earth shook with madness.

one

the show

Soak up your sympathy

‘Cos you won’t find it elsewhere

There’s nothing left but rape in this world

So squeeze the last drop from me

…Suck Me Dry

My scream echoed off the walls and faded into an abyssal silence. The sound begged the audience forward. I glanced down at my mic to see lipstick smears and sweat. Battle wounds and afterbirth of rock. I was alive and the stage was an electric heaven.

The Wiccan in me begged for a ritual. Charm the audience beyond the cradle of rock. I drew in the adrenaline-thick air and summoned a peace handed to me by my mentor, Thessia.

Let the power of the Goddess flow.

Fuck yeah.

The crowd screamed for more. One more song, one more moment with Die So Fluid. One more moment to bleed from my soul. I took in a deep breath; the smell of leather, booze, and rock permeated the hot, moist air. I turned back to Drew, his wicked grin all the okay I needed. I offered him a wink and returned to address the crowd.

Oh, my lovelies, I could play for you all night, I shouted. The audience replied in kind. We’ve got one more bit of tragic magic for you, one we tend to save for special occasions, for a crowd as beautiful and alive as you.

The men and women gathered before us roared their approval.

I closed my eyes, held up my arms, and called out, "This song is one of my favorites from Spawn of Dysfunction. Are you ready to suck…me…dry?"

Drew and Al kicked off the song. I punched up the bottom end with my smoothest bassline. The audience swayed like zombies as the rhythmic hypnosis between guitar, bass, and drums played together. When the driving force of the song crashed down, all bets were off. Legs and elbows flew in a mad dash to mosh out what little energy remained.

I sang.

And sang.

And sang until my soul threatened to release from my body and rise to find a bigger host, a perfect vessel.

I could feel mascara running down my cheeks. Tears. There had only been a few performances which had driven me to weep. The first was during a rock-filled rapture at a small dive in London, when a packed room nearly tore down the walls of the bar. That was our doing. The second was performing for the man who would eventually steal my heart away. The third would be now. My mind, my soul, transcended the moment to rise above chord and crash. I felt…bigger than the moment, bigger than life and death.

We are Die So Fluid. We love you all, I shouted into my mic as the song raged to a close. Thank you…peace!

One by one, we left the stage. The outpouring of love from the audience was almost too much─it begged I return and kneel before the great God rock.

Oh, fuck yeah. The squat young event coordinator stood in my way, his cheeky grin lopsided and forced. I wanted to dodge the bullet and slip into my dressing room to unwind. The hall was too narrow and my heels too high for parkour. Damn, Grog, you guys fucking nailed it.

I tossed the man a quick glance.

How’s about we meet up for a drink and…you know, He winked, …get familiar.

The git had no idea how much restraint I was exerting. Lucky for him, I’m a lady. Tell ya what, let me hit my dressing room, get comfortable, and then see what my hubby has in mind.

The H bomb dropped and emasculated the man. The cheap smile faded and the puffed up chest deflated. Out of nowhere, a pinprick of guilt jabbed me in the heart. I hated being rude and diva was definitely not my color.

Holy shit. Drew’s voice to the rescue. Girl, that show was abso-bloody-lutely amazing.

The coordinator turned to see Drew drying his face with a decadently plush towel. Drew, who knew?

Who knew what, mate? Drew asked, one corner of his mouth rising.

How fucking amazing you are. The coordinator instantly realized he’d just eaten his own shoe. I mean, yeah…we all knew you rocked the six string like a boss. The young man tossed up a devil horn salute.

Drew laughed and patted him on the shoulder. It’s okay, mate. Don’t stress yourself out.

Drew looked at me and winked, unflappable as ever. Love, Al and I are going to grab a bite. Care to join?

I would love that. I’m half starved, I answered.

Oh, the coordinator interrupted. We’ve got a great spread in the Green Room for you.

This time, it was Al who saved the day. He stepped out of his dressing room just in time to join the fun. Right, about that…we prefer a bit healthier fare, ya know. So next time, a little lighter on the brown and a bit heavier on the green. Al rolled his eyes and smiled. Ready to clock out of this joint?

Boys, must I remind you that under this vinyl-and-leather sex cocoon, I have an ocean of sweat? Can’t a girl change into something more… I winked at the coordinator, comfortable?

He instantly blushed. I tossed a perfunctory smile his way to make up for the snark.

We’ll meet you in the bus, my dear. Drew waltzed by and dropped a peck on my cheek. He smelled clean. I had no idea how he could rush off the stage and shower so quickly. The man worked some powerful magic…on and off the stage.

I stepped into my makeshift dressing room and pulled the door shut. Surprisingly, the little room blocked the noise from the stage. The perfect silence caressed my ears like a giving lover. I wanted to close my eyes and bask in the solitude.

Instead, I began the arduous process of peeling off my signature black leather- and-vinyl catsuit. The second the cool air kissed my flesh, a breath of energy raced over me. My feet pressed flat against the floor, happy to be out of the heels and ready to snuggle into a pair of sneakers. I didn’t tend to dress down much, but when I did, it was a gloriously slouchy sight.

I turned to my makeup mirror to begin the process of stripping my face of the mask I wore for every show. I snatched a few makeup-removing towelettes from a package and, before I had a chance to dive into the task, noticed an envelope resting against my mirror.

I don’t remember this, I whispered. Inside the envelope was a picture of my dog, Fonzi─his darling face up close to the lens. On the back of the picture was written, I lick my bollocks and then you.

I laughed. Fucking Drew.

Drew was always pranking me, trying to get a rise or a laugh. It always worked. I propped the card against my mirror and finished getting dressed. My stomach was about to digest itself. I pulled on my most comfortable jeans, a cami top, and a beat up pair of Chuck Taylors. With a final glance at the artwork on the mirror, I turned and took off for the bus.

*

The boys were sprawled in their usual benches, Al snoring roughly and Drew staring and laughing.

How in the fuck does he do that? I asked.

No clue, love. The man will sleep through the apocalypse, answered Drew.

So? I started. Eats or not?

Drew stood and stepped close to Al. He winked at me before he smacked the snoozing drummer on the forehead. Shit, shouted Al, shooting upright. What the bloody Mary did you do that for?

We’re hungry, Drew and I responded in perfect unison.

Al stood and wagged a bony finger at us. I’ll get you for that, my pretties.

I pulled Al into a tight hug. He moaned. Cupcake, you do know your way around the hug.

I looked around the bus. Where’s the crew?

An all-too-familiar wicked grin traced itself across Drew’s lips. I have a very special treat for us tonight.

I cocked a hairline eyebrow at him. What have you done this time?

Drew crooked his finger at me. Walk this way, doll face.

He led us to the back of the bus and revealed a small candlelit dinner. Three perfectly plated meals surrounded a silver, five-pronged candelabra. Drew motioned for me to take a seat. Your chair, madame?

You’re fucking kidding me! I said, barely able to contain my glee. This is beyond perfect.

What’s the occasion? asked Al.

Us, answered Drew. The release of our latest album, to the beginning of what will surely be a successful U.S. tour, and to beautiful music.

I raised a glass of velvety red wine. Cheers to that.

Our glasses clinked together; the soft note rose and faded into the night. I took in a deep breath to lock the moment into memory.

two

the seduction

You could let me slip far away with the water,

Tears raining down like shells making craters

Don’t look down, don’t look down

…Storm

The attic was black. A blanket of cold seeped in from the late autumn night and gave each breath form. A heavy step broke the silence. A blue-tinted beam of LED light slashed through the darkness.

Jonah knew the rumors and had been warned to never venture into the family’s past. At the fresh age of fifteen, he had uncovered the rotten fruit on the family tree. Magdaleine D’Angelo─great-grandmother─burned at the stake for performing acts of black magic. It was in this very attic, not two weeks prior, that Jonah had uncovered the cracked and faded journal, hand written by his long-dead grandmother, with one particularly damning entry.

October 31st, 1854. I finally found the truth regarding the death of my mother. I had been told her death was the result of a barn fire, that my poor, dear mother was consumed by a flame caused by a horse kicking over a lantern. My recent discovery sheds a most curious light on that tale. The barn in question was never caught up in fire and one particular account by a witness most trustworthy stated Magdaleine was lashed to a pole and brought to justice for her sins against God.

My mother was burned alive.

That truth led Jonah towards the same darkness which smeared the name of the D’Angelo family. He was certain his veins ran black with the same power that drove Maggy, named after her mother, to seek out the only known coven of witches in the area. That journey would be her undoing. Confronting the coven dredged up unholy secrets of rites and passages told to draw demons from the depths of Hell. The coven took Maggy in, only to use her as a vessel for darkness.

Jonah would not be so careless.

I know you’re up here, he whispered as the beam of light danced over wooden and cardboard boxes, cracked-faced dolls, ancient oil portraits, and quarter-inch thick dust. It wasn’t until the light flicked into the darkest corner of the space that Jonah stopped all movement. That’s it. Fuck, that’s gotta be it.

The beam of light rested on a small, wooden trunk─alone in the corner, nearly hidden by cobwebs and dust. Slowly, carefully, Jonah stepped toward the find. His pulse raced; his breath grew quick and shallow. The diary had mentioned what he hoped to find in the case.

The Trans Planar Seduction.

With his free hand, he brushed aside the silken webs until the case was no longer obstructed. Jonah sat, cross legged, with the old leather relic before him.

"Sensus plenior, whispered Jonah. I will know, I will consume, I will become."

Jonah placed the light down so it faced the case and, with the caution of a surgeon, reached out and undid the worn and weathered leather straps. The first broke off and scattered, little more than dust. The second creaked, but complied.

Apprehension grasped at his heart and pushed wave after wave of tense energy into his hands. The lid of the case opened with a crypt-keeper’s groan. A fetid breath wafted up and burned Jonah’s nostrils.

Oh, hell, that stinks. He rubbed the sting from his ice-blue eyes. Jonah snatched up his light and shined it into the box. Inside were letters, glass vials filled with dried, questionable substances, bones of indeterminate origin, a hank of frayed rope, a small dagger…

…and the Seduction.

Jonah’s breath was stolen from his lungs in a quick, ragged gasp. The cover of the book was exactly as expected─worn, cracked leather and the familiar, round sigil he’d seen in his dreams since the age of thirteen. From his back pocket, he pulled a pair of thin, white gloves, slipped them over his trembling hands, and reached into the case to retrieve the book. As his hands neared the leather-bound volume, he sharply pulled back.

Son of a bitch, hissed Jonah. He shot the beam of light back into the trunk, expecting to see bolts of electricity dancing over the book.

Nothing. What the hell? Again he reached into the case─this time nothing leaped out and kissed his digits with a sharp tongue.

Jonah removed the book from the case. Hello, my dearest friend. He held the book near his nostrils and took in a great sniff. It smelled of mothballs, aged leather, and wood. I’ve been searching for you. It’s taken me a very long time, but here we are. There’s a very special task we must undertake together.

With a caution that bordered on reverence, Jonah set the book on his lap and eased the leather cover open. On the first page, written in a gloriously beautiful script, was his great-grandmother’s name.

Magdaleine D’Angelo.

Jonah traced his finger over the inscription. As he did, a wave of nausea swept down his esophagus and into his gut. Oh, God. Jonah sealed his lips tight. The temperature in the room rose and fell beyond the natural order. The taste of bile grew hot on his tongue. Finally he turned his head, opened his mouth, and released a black, viscous fluid onto his shoulder. The heat of the liquid seeped through his shirt and burned his flesh.

Fuck, Jonah hissed. Jonah closed his eyes tight against the sight of the book, the case, and the black ooze.

Breathe, Jonah whispered. Breathe.

His heart stopped tap dancing against the inside of his chest. When he reopened his eyes, the walls of the room dissolved into a nightmare landscape: a barren land with a single, dead tree and a tall, gaunt figure clad in a black robe with a scarlet symbol on his chest.

The sigil of the Seduction, thought Jonah.

The figure slowly nodded.

Jonah stood and, with book in hand, hesitantly crossed the veil between the living and the dead.

Magdaleine? asked Jonah.

The figure nodded.

Will you teach me the Seduction?

Again, the figure nodded.

What must I do first?

The figure pointed a bone-skinny finger toward the book. Jonah glanced down and lifted the cover to see that the first page had been rewritten. In place of Magdaleine’s name was a single word.

Kill.

Jonah wept. I’ve never… His voice was beaten back with a monstrous screech that dropped him to his knees. He raised his hands against the wall of sound. I’m not sure I can.

Warmth spread across Jonah’s right hand and wrist. He stole another glance at the book to see thick, red blood pouring from between its pages. The blood inched up Jonah’s arm as if it were alive.

You are as I was, the figure rasped. Powerful. Your destiny has awakened. The deep voice rumbled against Jonah’s chest. You will continue my work.

No, Jonah protested. I only need you for one thing.

Powerful hands shot out, grasped Jonah by the shirt, and lifted him from the floor. You will do as I say or the Seduction will be forever lost.

No, no, no, the young man screamed. That can’t happen.. Without the Seduction, I… He stopped himself.

Speak, the figure hissed.

The crotch of Jonah’s pants grew