Payne's Pane: A Novella

By Jason Bailey

Gevon Pyane, a thriving art prodigy, has become the most recent victim of a vile and relentless curse, the Black Mirrari. Whatever reflective surface that Gevon looks into, his worse fears are played out before him. He is forced to watch as unspeakable nightmares torment his eyes. The Black Mirrari has left him crippled, a mere shell of his former self. His ability to paint has suffered. His passion, gone. Far more tragic is that his true love, Kari LaRousse, becomes the newest target of the curse, despite Gevon’s best efforts to keep her safe. Devastated, Gevon must do all he can to fight for the one he loves and bring an end to curse, once and for all.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Jason Bailey
• Release date: Mar 23, 2020
• ISBN: 9780463283356

Jason Bailey

Greetings!Thank you for stopping by. I'm Jason, the one responsible for all this--for better or worse! Like so many others, I have a passion for stories and writing. I am very excited to share this passion and hope others will enjoy the journey as much as I do.​I have many interests and hobbies--too many! It's the curse, or blessing, of my kind. There's just way too much amazing stuff out there. I love being active. It's how I recharge. Mountain biking, hiking, running, swimming, martial arts, snowboarding, skateboarding, water sports, and trampoline parks are all fair game. Leisure activities will find me reading, writing, watching movies, and tinkering about with music--I play guitar and not very well at that!I enjoy traveling. My wife and I are adventurers at heart and love planning a trip to someplace new or to a favorite haunt. We enjoy being outdoors, so hiking, biking, and paddle boarding will often make the top of the list. Theme parks like Disneyland get thrown into the mix--though my family would argue I enjoy those places as much or more as the kids!​I've been an avid reader ever since junior high. I was a poor student up to that point and had no love of school. But a required reading class in 9th grade forced me to the school library. I was never one for reading. My intent was to simply pass the class period wandering about the library. As fate would have it, I chanced upon a copy of "The Lord of the Rings: The Fellowship of the Ring". The cover art captured me immediately. I saw a wizard, a warrior with a sword, an elf with a bow, a dwarf with an axe and these smaller characters I couldn't recognize. They were all standing upon an exotic landscape in a world I wanted to know more about. Something drew me in. I brought the book back to the reading class. Before I knew it, I was hooked, whether I wanted to be or not! This serendipitous happen chance led me down an unexpected love for reading. Soon, I was devouring books of all kinds. It became a refuge for me. A place I could escape. Because of all the voracious reading, something happened with my grades. They started to improve. Gradually, I became a better and better student.To this day I am still an avid reader, though finding the time can be a challenge. A lot of distractions compete for my time these days.I love stories. I really enjoy being caught up in a good tale. I picture myself right there along with the main characters, sharing in their experiences. I'm often sad when the journey is over but eager to dive in and start it all over again.​I took up writing many years ago, but life, marriage, kids, careers (all that pesky grown up jazz, not to mention my myriad of interests!) did their best to keep me on my toes. I finally buckled down and said enough is enough. Either I pursue this dream and make it happen, or I sit about wishing and wondering what could have been.​I am very fortunate to be married to a wonderful woman. She has put up with all my silly nonsense for many a moon. We make a fantastic team. Together we have two amazing kids. I learn far more from them than I could ever hope to reciprocate. We have two, furry canine companions that make life complete, which usually means a barely manageable exercise in chaos. We live and survive on this incredible ride of life in Colorado--well, most of the time. If not traveling, I spend a great deal of my days tromping about in imaginary worlds!​​​​

Book preview

Payne’s Pane

By

Jason Bailey

Savvy Tales

Payne’s Pane

Copyright 2020 by Jason Bailey

Savvy Tales

All Rights Reserved

License Notes

No part of this publication may be reproduced, distributed, or transmitted in any form or by any means, including photocopying, recording or other electronic or mechanical methods, without the prior written permission of the publisher, except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical reviews and certain other non-commercial uses permitted by copyright law. This ebook and print version are licensed for your personal enjoyment only and may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this ebook or print book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use, then please purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

Cover Design by ebooklaunch.com

Gevon bolted up from soaked sheets. His breath heaved with choked gasps. Sweat dripped from the tip of his chin. The pitch black of the room closed in around him, suffocating and oppressive. Late night, early morning, he had no idea which and nor did he care.

It was another nightmare. He never had to contend with them before. They plagued him now, relentless and vicious. The toll they extracted on his body was heavy. Asleep and awake felt one and the same. He was beyond weary, if such a thing were possible.

Gevon looked up at a ceiling he knew was somewhere above but could not see in the repressive darkness. A storm brewed outside. Wind slammed against the walls of the building. Chimes and other oddities clinked and clanked in a maddening, musical jumble. The only thing that broke up the dismal, percussive noise was the steady tap, tapping of raindrops upon the roof and window panes.

Early spring. Any other time the bleak weather would have depressed him. Melancholy, however, was in short supply these days. Daily survival in a routine, numb state was all he knew—quite the contrast to a mere three weeks earlier. Such a short span of time but it seemed like another life, one that belonged to a different person.

The nightmares. Why were they so intense, so troublesome? The first one started as a recurring theme those three weeks ago. The horrid dream took his lavish lifestyle away from him. His beautiful suite, fine clothes, exuberant friends, all gone. But that was not the worst part.

In his beloved city of Suril, Gevon was an artist of notable repute. His skill with a brush was much admired and in high demand. His work at auctions and through private commissions brought handsome earnings. Painting was his one true passion in life, his obsession. In the disturbing dreams, however, his beautiful passion is lost to utter ruin. He becomes the subject of mockery by contemporaries and aficionados alike. His abrupt downfall in the art community is the delight of his competitors and a forgone conclusion of prominent critics.

The nightmares don’t stop there. Because of his ruin, Gevon succumbs to hard drinking and gambling. He loses everything, including the money his parents earn from their part of the business venture. They become embittered and denounce him as their son.

That part in particular is one of Gevon’s greatest fears. He worked very hard to earn the approval of his parents with his path in life. It was no easy feat, not where his father was concerned.

Gevon took a deep breath and rubbed his sore eyes. He tried to calm his racing heart and put the nightmare out of his mind. If only there was a way, but therein was the problem. How did one escape the confines of their own mind?

None of those terrible things had happened, yet, for which he was very thankful but terrified of at the same time. What if the bad dreams were some kind of premonition of his future? When would all those appalling things come to pass? Could he do anything to stop them from happening?

Gevon…

Gevon cocked his head. There it was, that faint whispering. He had heard it before. It seemed to come after the more intense nightmares. The first time it happened he was still disoriented and took it for his imagination. But there was no mistaking it, someone was whispering to him. He could not pin down the source. The voice seemed to come from all sides at once. It sounded like a woman, distant and pleading.

Please…it said. Please…and then it was gone, silenced.

The flesh on Gevon’s arms rippled with bumps. How that voice unnerved him. It was so full of sorrow and conveyed so much pain.

Gevon shook his head in frustration, no longer able to determine his reality. He felt like he was going mad, but knew he wasn’t, which made it all the more frustrating.

Time for some action. Sitting and thinking about such depressing things only made it worse. He rose onto unsteady legs and made his way into the living room.

Stumbling about, blind in the dark, he felt for the chair that was somewhere in front of him. He slammed his toe into the stout wooden leg of some piece of furniture and swore. Well, at least he found the chair. He slumped into its waiting embrace. He was still foggy, and now that he sat down, he didn’t know quite what to do. Why had he gotten out of bed only to sit in a chair? Everything was a white noise that would not stop. He didn’t have the first clue about how to start his day. Such a simple, mundane action had increased in difficulty of late. That was never a problem he faced before. He always sprang out of bed, eager to face a new day with the challenges, adventures, and opportunities that it might throw his way.

But now, he had no motivation to go through the motions of his old routines.

Somewhere in front of him, on an opposite wall, was a large bay window, shrouded and sealed tight with dark, heavy drapes. A trace of light framed the edges of those drapes.

So, it was early morning then.

Gevon stared at the window in growing anger. A strange and unbidden need to pull those infernal drapes down came over him. Another part of him resisted with the last remnants of strength that he still possessed. It was a never-ending, internal struggle that developed with the onset of the nightmares. That window was the start of it all, the bringer of his torment. One of his favorite past times was sitting by the window and sipping on tea as he gazed upon the beauty of Suril.

He dared not try such a thing now. It never ended well.

The day his life changed started with such a routine. He sat by the window, warm teacup in hand, and thought about his latest project, a landscape bid for one of his wealthier clients. While Gevon mulled over the project, the outside view changed with a sudden abruptness that caused him to spill the hot tea over his hand, burning his skin. The delightful views of Suril transformed into something terrible. He saw sections of the city in flames, whole neighborhoods consumed by fire. He heard the screams of victims trapped inside buildings, burning alive. Other areas of the city were under attack by vile creatures that must have belonged to some demonic underworld, some other dimension. The monsters chased down and butchered children in the streets with wild glee. What they did to the women they captured was unbearable to watch.

Gevon was in utter shock over what he saw through that window. He refused to believe what was happening. There was no way it could be real. He squeezed his eyes shut and willed the awful scenes to go away. When he dared to look again, the city was back to normal. Gevon didn’t have the faintest idea what could have caused such an inexplicable episode. He pushed the whole experience from his mind and denied that it ever took place.

However, after three more occurrences, each different in theme and terror, Gevon sealed all the windows in his penthouse suite with heavy drapes, blankets, towels, whatever he could find, to keep the horrific images at bay.

His reprieve from the haunting disturbances was short lived. They soon found him every time he looked into a mirror or a basin of water, anything with a reflective surface. There was nowhere to hide. The only answer was darkness, total darkness.

That’s when the nightmares started.

And now of late, the strange whispering. Gevon didn’t know what to do. He considered reaching out to friends and family. But what could he say? His parents would chalk it up to him working too hard and needing more rest. His friends would no doubt laugh it off, that he was becoming one of those eccentric artists gone mad. As frustrating as it was, he wouldn’t blame them. Would his reaction to such outlandish news be any different? It was possible to seek a cleric or reputable healer, but either option came at great risk. Such circumstances might lead to committal to an asylum or subject him to an intense purging ritual of possessed spirits. Neither outcome was something Gevon wanted to entertain.

Then there was Kari. She was the one person he trusted more than anyone. But he was fearful of what her reaction might be. Kari had recently come into his life, and in the process, turned it upside down in every good way imaginable. The idea of losing her was unthinkable. If he brought her into this mess, whatever it was he was going through, what would she think of him?

No, best not risk that.

Besides, not only did he not know who to turn to for aid, but he didn’t know what was wrong. How to explain his bizarre affliction to anyone? He thought he was suffering from hallucinations, but somehow, knew he wasn’t. Something about these episodes felt like they came from his mind. He couldn’t quite explain it, but deep down, he knew it wasn’t his doing. Aside from the encounters with the images and nightmares, he felt as normal and sane as ever. But wasn’t that what was said about those who went mad?

Gevon shook his head. He didn’t know what to think. He wished more than anything to have his life back.

His hands tightened around the armrests of the chair and his back stiffened. A sudden, powerful force compelled him to open the drapes. He fought against it but the pull was too strong, and he was too weak to resist. Whatever it was, it drove him out of the chair and toward the window against his will. Before he knew it, his hand was on the draw cord.

This had never happened before. It terrified him. He was in for something different this time, something terrible. How was this even possible? He could not stop his limbs from moving. His feet were cumbersome and heavy but somehow, they still moved, forcing him to stand at the window. Gevon didn’t want to but his hand pulled down and the drapes parted.

He tried to close his eyes but something prevented him from doing so. His heartbeat quickened in anticipation at what he might see, but as he looked out, everything was as it should be. Thank goodness. In the dim morning light, the only thing the window revealed was the city of Suril and nothing else. No tricks this time. The sky was dark, a molten blanket of woolen rain clouds. A bleak scene, for certain, but to Gevon it was one of the loveliest sights he had seen, in far too many days. When was the last time he looked out his window?

He drank in the city, something he didn’t expect to do ever again. Tears rimmed his eyes. Everything was just as he remembered: steep-roofed buildings, quaint cottages, cobblestone streets laid out in a grid, lush parks, and there was the large Willow River that meandered through the middle of it all in its languid manner.

Further out, on the western horizon, the sun hid behind the muck of the raging storm that swept over the area. Gevon found its blurred glow comforting, nonetheless. He had not seen this much light in such a long time that he had almost forgotten what it was like to behold it. How strange it was that one took something as simple as experiencing daylight for granted.

A twinge of wonder found its way back inside. Hope brewed once