Eternals Book 1: Lucy's Nightmare: The Eternals, #1

By Vincent Roberts

The first book in the Eternals series. The Eternals are a superior race of supernatural beings who have roamed the earth for thousands of years in search of a place where they could find peace. These vampire like creature don't need human blood to exist. Instead, they absorb the life force from their victims in order to remain young and powerful.

After settling into a new home, Paris (once a scientist and explorer from Ancient Greece), Paulo (once a soldier to Nero in the Roman Empire) and Selene (once a handmaiden to Cleopatra in Ancient Egypt) discover Lucy Johnson, a battered young wife surviving in the mountains in post Civil War northern Georgia. The Eternals find it imperative to help Lucy out of her critical situation before it's too late.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Vincent Roberts
• Release date: Dec 14, 2016
• ISBN: 9781393432647

Book preview

1

It was the middle of the year 1876 and they’d journeyed a great distance to northeast Georgia with the confidence of finding the peace and tranquility they’d longed for, the solace they’d strived for, but had never quite found. Hostile and foreboding years had proven to be as challenging as the ominous cloud that seemed to loom over them. They believed Covington Park might deliver a different result for them.

Selene had an overwhelmingly good feeling connected to their new transition. She hadn’t experienced a feeling of that kind of awareness in hundreds of years. Every place they’d lived before turned out to be a bad decision in the end. The three of them tirelessly progressed from city to city, state to state, country to country and continent to continent for thousands of years but never established that one place where they could permanently settle down. The three roamed the earth, both together and separately, and explored each region praying for a place they could call their own Shangri-La.

Paris noticed the cities on the North American continent were growing at alarming rates. The normal day to day life was hurried and chaotic. Crime and corruption were on an alarming upswing. People weren’t taking care of their own. He saw the family unit was beginning to break down and collapse. This wasn’t the world he imagined it would be two-thousand years before. The simple pleasures in life were waning rapidly. Brand new inventions and discoveries were making life easier but, at the same time, they were also making the human race cold and unkind. He hoped, if he continued his quest, that ultimately there would be a place he could call his own Utopia. It would have to be a place surrounded with solitude where most of the world was locked out.

Selene managed to locate a long-standing mansion that was positioned on the outskirts of Covington Park. It was the only plantation in the area that had survived the fiery ravages of the War Between the States when the union troops burned and looted virtually every large home they could find. The mayor of the town had formerly owned the elaborate dwelling. It was noted for being the grandest home in three counties.

In July of that year the they established residency at the manor. Their entrance into the town was noticeable as their majestic Clydesdales thundered down the clay roads like two men marching in a procession, and then suddenly, roared to a halt. They pulled their luxurious black carriage, ornamented with gold and red trim, to the front of the house. The rear section of the carriage was overflowing with garments, sculptures, and trinkets they had collected throughout the many vexing and dismal centuries.

Paulo was the first to step onto the grounds. He stood, with his hands on his hips, and admired the attractive emerald lawn and colorful landscaping that seemed to continue for acres. Rose gardens hugged the front pathway that was finished off in white steppingstones. There were more than a few old oak trees that soared thirty feet above his head. Paulo could feel a sense of harmony. He inhaled the kind Georgia air, and then exhaled. He closed his eyes and repeated this several times. After he meditated for a few minutes, he returned to help Selene disembark from the carriage. He proved repeatedly that chivalry was not dead.

Her day dress was white with an elegant black bodice. The train of the dress stretched several feet. She extended her arms into the fragrant air and gazed at the mansion with all its lush surroundings as she exclaimed, Isn’t she a magnificent property?

Paulo grinned at her as he nodded with approval. Paris approached them from behind the other side of the carriage. He crossed his arms. Desperately needing this to be the paradise they had so long searched for, he told Selene, who always sought his support, You’ve done very well my dear. You should be proud that you found such a remarkable place. The home, the grounds, the small township ... this could be the one we’ve been searching for.

The entrance of the house displayed four white pillars leading to a fifteen-foot glass door that was engraved with trees and a sunrise scene. The doors led to a great room decorated with green vines hand painted on the white walls. To the side of the room was a vast wooden staircase that led to the second and third floors. The rooms on the first floor were garnished with dark, gold fringed curtains. Each room was well equipped with a hand-carved fireplace to provide warmth through the cold Georgia winters. The low hanging chandeliers were lavish and uniquely ornamented with crystal.

Selene observed anxiously as Paulo and Paris unpacked her delicate statuettes. These objects were rested, for the time being, on tables in the front parlor. Sporadically, she would firmly advise them, Please, be cautious of my treasures. Try not to break anything. You know how important they are to me.

A second wagon pulled to the back of the manor. It was filled with women that Selene had employed days before. After the numerous hired women scoured the house from top to bottom, Paris, with minimal help from Paulo, took it upon himself to hang the striking portraits throughout the rooms. Next, he advanced to the study and emptied crates filled with books, his books, hundreds of books all kept in pristine shape. These were books Paris loved to read over and over, including some he had written. Selene emptied the trunks that were filled with clothing and placed each item carefully into designated bedroom drawers and closets. She’d attend to the smaller knick-knacks sometime later.

The trio observed as four more wagons rambled down the dusty road. These were the wagons that carried their furniture and loftier objects. Once the wagons stopped, several men sprang out. These handsomely paid men proceeded to unfasten the hulking items and carry them cautiously into the home.

In the progression of the first three days, most of the populace of Covington Park strolled down Victory Lane in order to get a glimpse of their newest townsfolk. No one actually stopped to say hello. They’d just smile, give a slight nod and a wave as they continued moving along on their way. Some, after passing by, walked down to the newly built train depot. The Southern Georgia Railroad had recently added Covington Park to its list of stops. In a short time, the luxury of having the railroad nearby would also bring about the problems of increased population, poverty and crime.

The townspeople were awed. The three newcomers appeared to be foreigners from some exotic county. No one else in the area looked quite so Egyptian or Roman or Greek. The fact that they’d been alive for two millennia had given them unlimited knowledge and skills. However, a keen observer that spent any length of time with them might claim that they possessed great powers.

Selene, with her long dark hair and olive skin, would give a slight wave back to the townspeople and observe them as they as they moved by. Her Mediterranean appearance captivated them. The woman stood only five feet three inches tall and possessed a slender frame. Her lips were full and her shadowy eyes were as dark as her hair. She wore several golden bracelets on each of her wrists. Her necklace was adorned with an Ankh amulet. Her need to blend into the modern world was often overshadowed by her desire to display the pride of great antiquity. She understood that remembering her history was important to building her future.

Paris stood about a half a foot taller than Selene. His face had the classic ancient Greek bone structure with a finely chiseled nose and chin. He walked tall and proud when he moved about. It was important that he maintain the flawless manners of the Athenian nobility of the past. His hair was sandy-colored with a slight wave. His cerulean eyes were piercing to anyone who dared to stare into them. In early times, he was often told that he bore a striking resemblance to the statues and depictions of the god Apollo that ornamented many Greek cities.

Paulo was unquestionably a child of the Roman Empire. His warrior-like stance and demeanor were a tribute to his days as a soldier under the rule of the notorious Emperor Nero. He was only slightly taller than Paris but the ex-soldier was built like a well-oiled machine. His arms and legs were pure muscle. His hair was dark and curly. His big eyes were coffee brown and constantly scanning the world around him. Paulo had worn a beard and mustache everyday over the past eighteen hundred years without fail.

Everyone was curious to see who could afford to live in such a lavish structure. It appeared the whole town of approximately one-thousand inhabitants found some silly motive to saunter down that street to study their new neighbors.

The hired men and women left the house with a great sense of accomplishment. They saw to it that every wall and floor was spotless, every piece of furniture placed exactly where Selene suggested it be, every fine carpet gently laid out in each room. Paris made sure that each worker was paid generously for their labor. Once finished, the wagons left the property and the threesome began to make themselves comfortable.

Several weeks had passed and they finally felt like they were settling into the house. The men elected to stay close to home except for the rare evenings Paulo traveled to the nearby town for provisions. The supplies they required were not food or water or candles. The necessities they needed were the people of neighboring towns. Paulo’s excursions happened once every twenty-eight days. They had been given the gift of an eternal life with everlasting beauty, but at a price. The curse they lived with was the need to feed from the living when the bright new moon lit up the black evening sky. They could feed at other times but that only gave a minimal amount of nourishment. Their only means of survival was to feed on the souls of humans to regenerate their strength and youth.

2

Selene detested the vulgar noise and filth in the big cities. Instead, she appreciated the true splendor of nature—the fauna, the local wildlife, the colors, the smells, the feeling. Like the others, she had a great desire to live a simpler existence. She loved embarking on lengthy walks through the dense Georgian woodlands. These walks fulfilled her need for freedom. She would stroll aimlessly for hours and hours picking berries and enjoying the silence and the solace and the peace she believed she had finally found.

There at the foothills of the Blue Ridge Mountains she would watch the rabbits and deer and other animals feasting on the rich green plants near her feet. She could smell the lush wildflowers as their fragrance danced all around her. She’d spend time gathering the berries and other fruit that grew wild in this forest. She put her treasures into a yellow pail that she carried with her. The abundance of trees, wide and tall, provided Selene with ample space to sit on the cool ground, lean against a trunk and take a little break each afternoon.

The heavily wooded terrain was quite the stark contrast from the blazing white and desolate sands where she had been raised. She recalled the hundred-degree rays that had pounded hard on her skin. It was a place where finding a shady spot was constantly a fight and frequently next to impossible. The dry air and the gusty desert winds had often made her daily life into a living hell.

One mild September day, after walking nearly a mile from the manor, she spotted an old abandoned shack in the distance. It appeared that to have once been somebody’s one room house many, many years ago. No one could possibly live in a house that was in such poor condition. She could see the dilapidated structure was nearing its final days. Some of the tiny glass windows had been cracked and the rest were missing entirely. The boards on the roof were rotting and collapsing. The front yard was covered with dry dirt and large rocks. Half of the front fence had buckled due to lack of upkeep. She looked to the right and observed the back pasture as being a grubby, neglected wasteland.

Selene recognized this place was even further from the center of town than her own home. She could not imagine living so far off the beaten path every single day. She kept her distance from the structure. She didn’t know if there were any hungry animals that had made it their home, and wildlife carried disease. Disease could strike her kind down if they were in a weakened state. Selene was a cautious woman and refused to ever put herself at risk. She was wise enough to keep her distance.

Each time she strolled the paths from the mansion she’d take this same route. On one particular afternoon, Selene spotted a young woman hiking up from the river. She watched the weathered woman trudging along, holding something in her arms. She was stunned to see the woman walk to the shack. The woman had chestnut hair that was pulled back in a ponytail and her timeworn black dress that appeared to be grayer than it was black. The fraying on the bottom of the dress showed its true age.

She noted that the object she had been carrying was a large brown wicker basket with water dripping from the bottom of it. She watched as the woman set the basket on the rear porch, took a dirty cloth from her pocket and wiped her forehead. Then she entered the dwelling.

Selene was greatly dumbfounded by what she was watching. She couldn’t comprehend how a human being was able to survive in such squalor and decay.

The woman walked out the back door to the wicker basket and lifted it again. She paced to a feeble old clothesline near the back pasture and set the basket down on the ground. As she removed the wet garments from the basket, she systematically draped them on the line. Selene took notice that the woman was barefoot and her feet were muddy and calloused. She also noticed one of the woman’s wrists was wrapped with a dirty bandage. She watched quietly as the chestnut-haired woman completed her daily laundry chores.

Selene became enthralled by the woman. She remained a good distance from the shack but she was still close enough to see that the young woman looked tattered and drained. She guessed that she must have been in her late twenties but the wear and tear made her look as if she was much older, maybe in her late thirties.

She sat on the ground with her pail of berries and steadily nibbled on them as she watched the woman coming in and out of the front door. She watched as she gathered eggs from the nests of the three chickens that lived under the rickety front porch. The woman was the only living soul Selene saw there. No one else came to the shack. The woman with the chestnut hair must have lived there in complete isolation.

After several hours had passed, Selene realized the time had slipped away from her. She knew she had to get back to the mansion before nightfall. It was the evening of the new moon. She appreciated how much effort Paris and Paulo put forth to make this day the perfect day and she refused to disappoint them. Selene knew she was ready to be nourished by a human sacrifice. She felt that inner starvation that only exposed itself in full force once every twenty-eight days. It was time to feed.

She sprang up from the cold ground and brushed