Tales of Eden: Burned

By M.J Nyght

Who could predict the trouble I would cause? Certainly not me. After all, I didn’t even know my own name. Roberts must have always known the mayhem I would create. Considering he arrested me more than once, almost as if it were a ritual for us. Most people wouldn’t call me a stand up citizen with my light fingered, sarcastic attitude, and a habit of being nearby when weird events take place. It seems chaos has a way of following me around.
Discovering who (no, no that’s wrong) what I work for, has me running to Roberts for help. Convincing him I’m not clinically insane might be easier than stopping what’s coming. And stop it we must, because New York will never survive the fallout.

• Language: English
• Publisher: M.J Nyght
• Release date: Nov 7, 2019
• ISBN: 9780463469453

M.J Nyght

Love to hear feedback, comments and ideas. Reviews are such a driving force for a writer so if you enjoy my books please leave a review❤ I love writing paranormal and fantasy. Having stumbled upon this creative outlet quite by accident. A mother of three lively and over imaginative daughters, I find inspiration in everything around me. Finding story ideas from a simple sign to the lyrics in a song, it’s why one will always find me clasping desperately to my laptop. I live in a small Canadian east coast village with my beloved husband, three cats and two dogs.

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

My perch gave me a clear view of the events which unfolded below. If New York City’s finest witnessed what happened they’d need to seek a good therapist instead of searching for me. They would never believe it. Hell, I scarcely believed it myself, even if little old me was the cause of all the chaos below.

Being hidden by the cover of night helped me stay hidden from the cops. I scanned over the neighborhood. The starch contrast to the immense skyline astounded me. This was one of the poorest areas here; undoubtedly this place endured being a slum for decades. However, the variety in its character equaled the rest of the Big Apple. My home sweet home for the last six months, maybe my entire life, I had no idea though.

Scarred walls of the neglected apartment complexes lined both sides of the street. Erected so close to one another you could reach out and shake hands from a window with a neighbor in the adjacent building. If you were brave enough or stupid enough to do so. Their faded brick surfaces vandalized a long time ago by local graffiti artists. Trash and decayed surfaces littered the sidewalks for as far as I could see.

Bright red, blue, and amber lights mirrored on the windows in a showy dance in the twilight. In the distance, sirens echoed as they retreated further into the belly of the city. They grew fainter by the second. The shrill cries blended in with the sounds that resonated here no matter the time of day or night. Steam still rolled off the extinguished burnt mess. Small wisps of gray smoke floated off into the sky, much like ghosts trying to escape an unseen foe.

A rank, disgusting sweet odor soaked the area. The stench of it, no one could ever forget. The traces of which stuck to the back of my throat regardless of how hard I tried to swallow the foul flavor away. A thick reek of burned rubber and metal seeped into everything porous. The last of the harsh smoke lingered in the air. The stench clung to my skin, hair, and clothes. My curiosity drew me closer to the edge for a better view. Well, you really did a number this time, I thought as I surveyed the destruction I caused.

Everything appeared less crowded. The ambulances and fire trucks that once cluttered the road were gone. Several officers paced back and forth in front of the barricades. Good little watchmen who protected their post and ensured the crowd stayed behind the line of caution tape.

A debris-filled, soppy mess littered the pavement. Any spots left exposed shimmered under the overhead lights. Small rivers of filthy water traveled along the edge of the gutter. The sloppy muck gurgled down into the grates of the sewers.

The endless chatter of my teeth began to hurt my jaws. My arms wrapped a bit tighter around myself for extra warmth as the gentle drizzle turned to showers. I stared in desperation towards the alley across the street where my torn and tattered jacket laid. I longed for my coat for extra warmth and protection against the rain.

The voices from down below filtered up towards me. People murmured about the possible cause of the explosion as a burst of cameras captured the gruesome scene before them. News reporters poked their microphones into random people’s faces while cameramen aimed their equipment at their host’s perfect appearances. Every flash highlighted the scorched pavement, burnt-out vehicles and the slurry of garbage mixed with water and ashes.

An oversized van sat along the curb with its forensic unit. They wrapped up their part of the investigation and several of the CSI’s stowed the bagged evidence they’d secured into the vehicle. Their white jumpsuits made for a blatant contrast to the rest of the crowd who watched from the sidelines.

The perimeter around the scene teemed with cops in their wet uniforms and snotty attitudes. All of them tried to keep the pedestrians and journalists as far away from the scene as possible. A couple tested their luck and tried to duck under a line of yellow tape. The officers had been quick to reprimand them.

From up the street, the deep rumble of an engine boomed as a black Charger came into view. The red and blue domes flashed on the roof added to the hypnotic lights from the other emergency vehicles. At the same time as the Dodge drew closer, the blat of its siren warned the spectators who flocked the lane to move out of the way. Ah shit, I thought.

The crowd separated much like the red sea to let the car enter into the chaos. The driver stopped once by the sawhorse barricade and parked with flawless accuracy beside the curb. When the door opened, my breathing all but stopped and the lump in my throat grew. The man who stepped out of the car signalled an ill omen to me. Detective Anthony Roberts.

He dressed in black tonight, save for his white dress shirt. His sharp stony features and a perpetual five o’clock shadow emphasized his dark complexion and made for a menacing sight. The whole package gave him the air of orderliness, tinged with a pinch of trouble. A tough, rugged cop with street savvy. Some would find him handsome, or perhaps sexy. The dignified older man presented a problem for me…I would need to find a way off the roof and around him and his posse.

Reporters rushed to the edge of the blockade, frantic to catch his attention. They asked for information about what happened and shouted questions about whether terrorists had attacked or not. He appeared to ignore them on purpose as he made his way towards the burnt mess. Good ole Roberts, he maintained a reputation for being tight-lipped about everything.

He walked toward the largest area of damage. The burnt-out shells sat at the curb, a skeletal reminder of the two well-used cars that had been parked curbside less than an hour ago. As he examined the wrecks, he ran a hand through his cropped brown hair. An expression of confusion washed over his face. He beckoned an officer closer and spoke with him for a brief moment. The lesser ranked cop left and headed for the Fire Marshal.

I figured they would find no clues as to how they exploded while parked on the side of the road. The charred body in the seat of the first car had fused with the interior. A mere fifteen feet away, the forensic team milled around. One tilted his head from side to side, while another furrowed her brows. The spot which drew their attention, I assumed, presented a puzzle for them. The partially burned corpse sprawled on the charred sidewalk. Yet, the alley right behind the horrific scene was left miraculously unscathed.

The ambulance took the last two men, who almost escaped the flames, away to the hospital. From what I could see, neither looked like they would make the trip. Their bodies were blackened, their clothes melted into their flesh. If they died, there would be no other witnesses to the events which happened here tonight.

Roberts followed the path of the fire back to the alley. Beams of light panned around the narrow passageway as a sensation of looming doom washed over me. I stooped lower in an attempt to keep from being seen as he examined where I hid before all Hell broke loose. Goosebumps prickled my skin, as the hairs on the back of my neck stood on end when he lifted his head in my direction. Curiosity got the best of me and our gazes met. Our stares locked for the briefest moment; the short-lived connection made me cringe.

He gained the attention of some officers and they headed across the street. Several sets of boots splashed in the waterlogged street below as they raced toward my perch. The knowledge that they couldn’t pin this on me didn’t stop the fear from that tingled down my spine. Already having a few run-ins with Roberts before, I didn’t need this trouble tonight.

Even if they caught me, my butt would merely end up in jail for a couple of hours until they realized they found no hard evidence. Still, there were plenty of better ways to spend the rest of my night, other than dealing with some cop.

I bolted toward the far edge of the roof, loose gravel and water sprayed against the back of my calves. My drained, battered body made the run hellishly painful. A nine-foot jump across to my next escape route awaited me. It had a bit of a height difference, the drop had to be about ten feet down to the next roof. Easie Peasie, I thought. Cops scurried around in the narrow alley below with flashlights as they began to surround both the tenements Roberts being his efficient dick head self.

I took several steps back to reach a good head start before I made my attempt to leap for the next building. Drawing in several deep breaths, my pulse pounded in my ears, my vision fixed on the ledge. I darted toward the edge, the muscles in my legs catapulted me off the lip. My arms flailed in the air and with nothing under me to save my ass if my aim didn’t hold true.

I managed to do a tumbled roll as I landed on the opposite. Litter, gravel and wet leaves ground into my face, hair, and clothes. A groan of agony escaped my mouth as I came to my feet.

Oh, God, I squealed out loud. The jarring motion of the landing hurt more than anticipated but should have known better after the thumping my poor body recently took.

The next structure needed to be scaled. My quick survey of the four-story climb led me to believe the ascent would be simple enough. Luckily there wouldn’t be any jumping involved. Staggering by the roof access door at a quick jog, it slammed open. My heart damn near skipped out of my throat.

NYPD Stop, a familiar voice boomed. Roberts came up to this roof and not the one he spotted me on, a little surprised by this I growled silently, I must be getting predictable.

The crunching of his boots hitting the gravel pushed me to move faster. My tired limbs protested, resting the single thing my poor body desired. My willpower drove them to work harder as sweat trickled down into my eyes. The heavy footfalls got louder as I neared the face of the opposite complex. With my freedom a few feet in sight, the adrenaline kicked in. My legs got the extra boost they needed, just not in time.

The ground rushed up to greet me. We landed in a tangled mess which left me gasping for air. A linebacker might as well of slammed into me.

Get off me, you ass, I screamed whilst struggling to getaway.

With each painful twist, the wet gravel dug into my already tender skin. The stench of roof tar and pigeon shit assailed my nose. My gag reflexes kicked into high gear. The combined pong of burnt flesh, bird droppings, and musty old roof litter were too much. Luckily my empty stomach proved too barren for anything to be expelled.

Roberts’s strength surpassed mine and it didn’t take long for him to wrestle my arms against my back. Then the all too familiar click of the metal bracelets. The coldness against my burning body made my skin prickle.

Damn it, I hissed while being hauled to my feet.

Mouse, what the hell are you doing up here? He demanded before even turning me around to face him.

His grip on my arms became unyielding as he held me in place to prevent any further attempts to flee. My face turned to stare up at him before flashing him a coy smile. Mentally shifting gears to play, the game begins once more, I thought.

Just taking in the fireworks.

In a weak attempt to convey my innocents, my long eyelashes fluttered painfully at him. Two uniformed cops walked out onto the roof from the access door. Both wheezed from the climb. One too many doughnuts, I mused.

Why is it when something peculiar happens, you’re never far away?

Several prepared answers floated through my head, before deciding to go with the innocent until proven guilty stance.

I didn’t do anything.

Why don’t I believe you? You’re under arrest. You have the right to remain silent. Anythi

Yeah, I know what they are.

Are you waiving your rights? The tone of surprise echoed through in his voice.

Hell no, I just wanted to hear you repeat yourself.

You do realize one of these days that mouth of yours will land you into trouble you can’t get out off.

That a threat?

He glared at me and repeated the Miranda Rights. This not only being a first but also a record for us, getting caught in a matter of a few moments. It was typical for me to be long gone before he even breathed in the dust kicked up in my escape.

Oh, now it’s a felony to be up here, is it Roberts? The sarcasm oozed out as he started to drag me toward the other two officers.

Knowing you, it probably is.

You can’t arrest someone for something they didn’t do.

And yet somehow…I still don’t believe you. Take her to the precinct; I’ll be along as soon as I can, He stated as he handed me off.

We descended into the building via the same entrance Roberts used to climb up here. The door opened onto one of the upper floors. The rancid scent from outside didn’t seem as nasty in here, however, the stench did filter in. The wall bore the years of neglect as the paint peeled in various spots. Two of the lights were burnt out, the light we gained came from where people poked their heads out of their apartment doors. Several scurried to move out of our way. Their whispers echoed after us as we made our way downstairs to the exit.

The two officers escorted me out to the busy street with Roberts in the lead. Wet, sore, exhausted, and defeated, what the hell did I think I would accomplish trying to flee in my current state? On the plus side, a warm bed and hot meal awaited me and that also meant being out of the damn rain. My weak attempt to find the brighter side of this, although, it didn’t make me feel any better.

Several noisy reporters rushed us and started asking questions. Roberts ignored them in his normal fashion, it made me thankful for his predictable ways. With an unceremonious shove, they stuffed me in the back seat of a patrol car, I instinctively turned my head away from the flashing cameras.

The sense of being watched intently by someone caused a creepy sensation to flow over me. I scanned the gawking sea of people, all were ogling me but not one of them familiar faces. The overwhelming urge to be as far away as possible consumed me as the officer clambered into the driver’s seat. Anxiety and paranoia flowed over me, it left my nerves frayed.

As we pulled away from the scene a strange thankfulness filled me. This was an odd sensation to arise while the cops carted me off. The impression of being observed dissipated as the distance grew.

CHAPTER 2

Within their first week in New York, everything went to hell. Nothing Jared did prevented the utter chaos she unleashed. She lost control before disappearing for months. Their leader and himself hunted for her to no avail until two weeks ago. Both of them trailed her since. Jared thought for sure they would never be in a position to nab her. However, when the opportunity presented itself, the gang members made quick work of grabbing her first.

Their intentions for the girl appeared to be malicious in intent, even though they told her they wanted nothing more than the belongings in her bag. He figured they would do much worse, their auras muddle with the colors of desire. Master Mimeo ordered him not to interfere, only observe for the time being. That was the hardest thing he ever tried to do.

Four on one should have been a relatively easy victory for the girl. To his disbelief, she put up a weak fight. Her movements clumsy, unrefined as if she lost all her years of training. He was fully aware something went wrong. The men should have been dispatched without much effort by her hands and not by using her avatar. The fight although brief resulted in an equal outcome. Her full ferocity scarcely being contained.

As they moved through the crowd, none of the people even noticed their passage. All of them too focused on the horrendous sight. An odd aura filled the chilled night air; a sense of foreboding surrounded him. Briefly, Jared felt uneasy. The sensation faded as they entered a better section to view the girl.

Did you feel that? he asked Mimeo.

Yes, be cautious and keep a vigilant watch.

Do you think it’s her?

No, it’s something far worse than our wayward student.

What can be worse than a rogue vessel?

Jared there are many things that lurk in this city, some walk in broad daylight alongside the humans. Others stay hidden for fear of discovery. Many of them are far worse than the girl.

Jared turned his attention back to the scene, from within the cover of the mass of people they watched everything going on. They stood across the street from the building they led her out of. Her short stature and tiny frame were dwarfed even more by the men leading her to the patrol car. But then again she had always been kind of a shrimp.

The flurry of activity on the road helped to obfuscate them from their target. The wet and messy long tawny hair stuck to the sides of her freckle covered cheeks. His heart dropped seeing her large brown eyes and innocent face.

The black eye started to develop as did the bruise on her chin and the split lip swelled and bled a bit. The black t-shirt was torn and stretched out of shape around the neck. Her pale skin showed from the holes sliced into the thin material by the attacker's knife. A few of the cuts left small nicks, which he could tell stopped bleeding.

As the officers led her towards the police cruiser, her gaze darted over the crowd and she appeared confused. Guilt welled in him, he wanted to rush over to her but he swiftly suppressed the urge. He knew he would need to keep an eye on her. A firm grip on his shoulder made him turn to his mentor.

The man still looked the same as he did when they first met so many years ago. Mimeo always stood with perfect posture, his face clean-shaven with stern icy black eyes. Those inky obsidian orbs held more secrets than Jared cared to ever learn. His mentor removed his tattoo-covered hand from his shoulder bringing it back to rest atop his cane.

Now what?

Now we wait to see if she returns to her mission on her own. If not we will have to re-acquire her, Master Mimeo stated.

And if she puts up a fight?

That is why you were permitted to join me on this mission.

With those words, the ancient man turned and faded into the shadows. Jared didn't dare to linger and followed quickly behind him.

CHAPTER 3

You can take a seat here, the officer told me.

Gee, thanks,

Someone will be along with you shortly.

You know you could just let me go.

Have you been read your rights? he asked, ignoring my request.

No, I lied.

After having my rights repeated to me again, the officer left me at the little metal table in a small interrogation room. My hands sat in front of me, cuffed through the metal hoops attached to the top of the table; the legs of which were anchored to the floor. This seemed excessive even for Roberts. My last run-in with him must have truly pissed him off, having me getaway must have looked bad for him. While sitting on the hard chair, envisioning myself as one of New York City's most wanted. A silly grin played on my lips recalling the last time we did this. How humiliating that must have been for him to lose me in the police station itself.

The soft drone echoed in the otherwise quiet room. The noise came from the heat being blown in from the small air vent up on the ceiling. The warmth from it, the single welcoming thing here. The walls were painted a light peach color, I guessed that it was meant to soothe the mind; being a more pleasant tone than the pea green colored room from last time. The tiled floor, table, chairs, and trim remained less inviting with the slate grey paint. The door had no window. It stood right beside a huge mirror that adorned half the wall, where there would be someone watching on the other side.

While waiting for someone to come, I stretched out my legs a bit, my tattered combat styled Converse sneakers squeaked loudly on the floor. The thoughts to remember to make the noise whenever Roberts talked floated into my mind, a smile played over my lips at how annoying it would be.

My legs appeared lengthy in the tight jeans and gave the illusion of me being taller. However, the niceness soon dissipated upon eyeing the discolored spots. The black material stained with dirt, blood and other things from the alley that one didn't want to think about. I was a little nervous at first but they couldn't prove anything, at least not tonight anyway. Unless of course, they got my DNA off of the two who weren't burnt beyond recognition. That idea had me a little nervous.

The door handle moved and Roberts entered with my favorite beverage in one hand. In the other were two egg salad sandwiches and a folder was tucked up under his arm. At the same time he strode toward the table, he tried an attempt at a smile. The gesture appeared natural and that put me more on edge. We went down this road before and the man always made sure to feed me every time he dragged me in here.

Most of those visits were due to petty crimes, besides a girl needed to survive somehow. I was known to do a little shoplifting here and there. Being pretty decent at pilfering beat the alternatives. After he settled into his chair, he opened the can of pop and set the drink down in front of me along with one of the sandwiches. Acting so likable made it easy for me to dislike him even more.

Sorry to take so long, He said

I’m not going to be here half the damn night am I?

You’ll be here until we finish the interviews.

In that case, I heard nothing, saw nothing and did nothing, I told him knowing it wouldn’t be as easy as that.

You know that’s not how this works, why don’t you eat, you look starved.

Eyeing the detective warily and the food hungrily, while waiting, not wanting to take the bait too soon, or appear too eager to get my hands on the sandwich. Like most street folks, nourishment came wherever you could acquire some. The sight and aromas of