Eve of Dark Horizons: Part One of the Draconian Series

By Marvin Proctor Jr.

The world is in tremendous danger, threatened by dark forces acting in the shadows. One individual, Mr. Black and his partner Dr. Kline, yearns to open the worlds gateway in order to allow a dominion of evil in, intent on destroying all life as we know it and rebuilding it in its own dark image.

In answer to this threat, there stands only a handful of teens who are only starting to learn about themselves and their unique gifts. Seventeen-year-old Kyra Mathews believes she is a normal, if gifted, high school student, but she soon finds herself drawn into a world she could never have imagined, one in which angels sneak about and dragons hide among us. With the help of a small group of friendssome of whom hide amazing secretsKyra must take her place in the fight against evil and help to fulfill an ancient prophecy. Although she doesnt know it, her journey began millennia ago and will continue for generations to come.

In this fantasy novel, a group of teenagers, led by Kyra Mathews, discover that their world hides not only vast magic but also unimaginable evil that could destroy existence as they know it.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Archway Publishing
• Release date: Mar 26, 2018
• ISBN: 9781480857353

Marvin Proctor Jr.

Marvin Proctor Jr was born and raised in Maryland. He is a trained scholar-musician who enjoys teaching and who has had a lifelong love of science fiction and fantasy. He is grateful for the friendship of many other authors who have assisted him along the way to the publication of this, his debut novel. He currently lives in Clinton, Maryland.

Book preview

Prologue

The third sequence initiated. Unstable subject matter. Subject’s secondary genetic sequence is resisting the connection of the primary target gene, M771 sequence, from coding. Resistance is imminent. Code red. Syntax error. Incompatible test subject XJ5-221-CH10!" announces the advanced self-automated (AI) computer mainframe for the top-secret laboratory that’s deep underground in Washington, DC. It was named MARC (for multitasking artificial response computer), a creation of the genius mind of the late Dr. Johnathan Daniels.

Meanwhile, Eric James, the observation tech on duty and a veteran of his position for twenty plus years, continues to monitor the enclosed human sedation pods that house three youth test subjects who are monitored for their mental and physical vitals. In the calm but artificial monotone voice of a man, MARC declares, Test subject XJ5-221-CH10 is proven incompatible … and is registered as a fail, Mr. James. James looks over the results and relays the findings to his superior, who is dressed in a knee-length shiny silver lab coat. The man has an ICB (identification clearance badge) with his name, Dr. Brandon Kline, and his station as the supervisor of special operations. Approaching him hastily, Dr. Kline, subjects XJ5-221-ML16 and XJ5-221-SC17 are green for go. However, subject XJ5-221-CH10 will not comply as needed.

Reading over to the displays, Dr. Kline gives the information a quick once-over while comparing the results from his own personal handheld tablet device. Mr. James subjects SC17 and ML16 can be transferred to the DH sector. Use Laboratory Alpha Charlie Tango to prep the DH16z1 inoculations.

A slightly graying technician, Eric James is gaining a moral consciousness about the tasks he is required to perform. He turns slightly to see the supervisor and says, D-Dr. Kline, are you certain that this is really advisable, given the results of the last ten candidates. We sent them all through to the DH sector processing only to prove fatal. Each one of them.

Are you questioning this protocol by wishing to overstep your station, Mr. James? You do remember signing the EDCCA (employee declaration of company compliance addendum), do you not?

Why yes, of course, Doctor. Mr. James swallows deep, looking uncertainly at the man he has worked long and hard for many years a little differently. It’s as if the life force behind his eyes has suddenly dimmed. But for all intents and purposes, the newest candidates are mere children, sir. The boys are slightly older than the girl. The eldest boy is seventeen, and the other boy is sixteen. However, the orphan girl you acquired is only ten years old, sir. She is the same age as your little granddaughter, Erica. You are aware of this?

He feels some conviction in his resolve to find a reason behind the extreme measures the organization is taking. What is the next step? The DH Program? What is its intended purpose? Why do we need to have such young candidates?

Dr. Kline is not at all pleased by the line of questioning from his long-standing subordinate. Removing his fashionable protective lab spectacles, he gazes directly into Eric’s pale green eyes. Look! You have worked under my direction for the past twenty-five years. There is one thing you should always know and never fail to comprehend. He presses his spectacles squarely into Eric’s chest. Mr. James, you … not now, not ever, question the likes of me or the protocols of your assigned task! Always be mindful. You were hand-selected by me for this job, and reassignments are frowned upon. Just do what you were assigned to do and concentrate specifically on that task! Nonetheless, I will make this very clear.

Dr. Kline breaks down each word for clarity. You are a great standing loyalist, and you express your wonders in the sciences. These candidates, albeit young, sweet, and innocent in their mere appearance, are by far anything of the sort! They are not random youth just yanked off the streets. Each subject we have collected has shown themselves to be an extremely dangerous and a high risk to themselves and to the society as a whole—that is, if they are left to roam around freely in society.

Eric makes a confused expression as the doctor explains to him the severity of the situation. They need this testing. No questions asked, Eric. There need to be some preventive control measures taken to slow or stop the strange anomaly known as the M771 DNA gene strand before it becomes a worldwide epidemic. These frail-looking candidates are acutely aware of the potential dangers they may bring to themselves and their loved ones. For most of them, this may be their only means to possibly have a normal human existence.

Kline gestures with his hand, speaking candidly and calmly, Stop your damn inquiry, Eric, and prep the two male subjects for the DH lab. Once you’re done with that, get your ass back over here and begin resequencing the female child. Understood?

Not wanting to engage in any further debates, Eric briskly returns to his duties.

Meanwhile, Dr. Kline appears apprehensive, stuck in his own thoughts, pondering the overall successfulness of the two male subjects. The results seem very hopeful. Then he questions himself in a whisper with no one around, How many are we going to need for this project, before becoming too noticed?

A firm, deep, dark voice strikes Dr. Kline from behind. As many as necessary, dearest doctor! says the confident voice.

Goosebumps cascade down Dr. Kline’s back as he whips around only to gaze at an empty space, not a soul in sight. However, he sees a movement from the shadowy section of the poorly lit observation area.

You aren’t thinking of weakening your resolve at this late stage of the game, are you, Doctor? His questioning feels dark and lurid, coming from the shadows. The top-secret government-run lab is a scientific marvel. Nonetheless, it’s a cold, sterile environment.

We are getting extremely close to perfecting the sequence as you directed us. Test subjects are being screened much more thoroughly with the newest process created by Mr. James. It is vital we steady our course. Failure is never an answer here. You are quite aware of this, dearest doctor?

He tries desperately not to show his fear in the face of a man who wishes to remain in the shadows like a vampire spying on its prey. Why … yes. Yes, of course, Mr. Black.

And … how were the appointments with the marine, maritime commander Dr. Mathews and the highly accomplished Dr. Brennen Becker of the Canadian Scientist Alliance? I hear the alliance now resides at the science and discoveries division of the National Historical Museum in Washington, DC. Mr. Black’s voice sounds almost excited as if his fangs just found a sweet spot in a tender piece of raw meat.

Dr. Kline waits until the last tech leaves the observation chamber per his direct request, and with confidence over his loyal staff, he says, "Now look, Mr. Black. I am determined to finish the task you’ve so diligently thought out and provided us—protecting the world from these creatures masquerading as humans. But you must realize finding these ‘young candidates’ with an active M771 gene isn’t such a simple task to accomplish, especially considering the questionable subjects are clearly getting younger. Some are asking questions.

But as for the latter query about Mr. Gregory Mathews, he has firmly rejected our proposal to join our force with the DH program, but without full disclosure. Dr. Becker, on the other hand, appears to be moderately interested and has already begun working in triangulating the keys you require. He assures me that he will be actively invested in our mission. Nonetheless, something about that man draws me at odds. I can’t quite put my finger on it, of course, but something is definitely off.

Mr. Black steps dramatically from the shadows, casually sits on the corner of a workstation desk, and boldly crosses his firm, shapely biceps in front of him. It’s obvious this handsome six-foot man believes in working his body.

This is good news. The stones of Ancestria are an invaluable part of the next phase. The sooner they are located, the better. But there is an alternative I have learned about in case getting all the stones don’t pan out for us. We’ll need to acquire a couple unique items first to put things in motion.

Items? What kind of items? Dr. Kline raises his salt-and-pepper brow with interest.

It has been brought to my attention that there is an alpha prime wolf still present in this world, one that has gone undetected. It appears to have gone feral and has become somewhat of an urban myth and legend, the Virginian Black Wolf, the immortal shapeshifter with portal-jumping abilities. The second item is a star seed child who burns with the fire of hell itself. (He directs his attention to the chamber where the female subject lies in stasis.)

Dr. Kline says. Hold up! You think she is that child?

You said yourself that the kinetic discharge was off the charts for a kinetic, didn’t you? And her power had an element within it. Then she could very well be … the one! She needs to fully awaken to her abilities and unleash what is required.

Dr. Kline continues, The issue of candidates is starting to raise concerns, Mr. Black. This operation is not exactly sanctioned. We had to go to some extremes to acquire the latest candidates for your mission. Kline gestures to the three profiles on the monitors. Like Mr. Shihan Gamo-Chin, better known by his alter ego, Ryuu-no-kage, the Dragon of Shadows.

Mr. Black snickers after he hears the translation of Shihan’s Japanese name.

Dr. Kline continues, He’s from the elusive and secret society the Shinto Thunder Clan. We lucked out with this young man when our eyes caught him practicing his unique mystical craft at the empty Haiden Hall at Kamigamo Shrine in Kyoto, Japan. We believe he is a direct lineage of the once thought extinct and the first dynasty of the Gamo family.

Interesting. Mr. Black nods his head. He shall do … well.

Dr. Kline continues, "The other young man, Michael Landings, is a mix of half Cajun and Créole. He’s a native of New Orleans. He is known for working his dark mystical arts at a young age, and he’s a fearsome sleuth hunter of the supernatural variety.

He has a reputation for seeking out the Versipellis, the werewolves of the south, specters, banshees, and even thought to have hunted and destroyed a five-hundred-year-old Vampryus. He is believed to relate to a highly sought-after group called the Dark Magicians. The adults are referred to as dark mages. It’s an allegedly old mystical occult formed back in the old countries, involving mysticism and conjuring.

Hmm. I like this one a lot. Maybe he can find the elusive Black Wolf? That’s our precaution in case the stones of Ancestria aren’t recovered?

The surprising twist about Michael’s people is the mere fact that the reincarnation of a so-called high priest or priestess has yet to make itself known to the clan. He or she is to replace the one they call Bone Keeper, who ironically vanished some eighty years ago without a trace. Either way, the prophets of the Créole people say the new leader will be their savior or their doom, depending on his or her chosen path of life at the tender age of twenty-one.

Mr. Black nods contently, and Dr. Kline follows his statement with a wicked chuckle. Hmm, sounds familiar. That reminds me of the pesky ancients and their damn rituals! Mr. Black says, rubbing his chin as if in deep thought

Who? sharply inquires Dr. Kline. Mr. Black doesn’t appear a day older than thirty, with his tailor-made black, pinstriped suit, and black aviator glasses.

Oh, nothing. It is something of another time and place. Nothing relative to this era. That’s something long gone eons ago, Doctor.

With a raised brow, Dr. Kline continues, Oh … I see. Well, today their order is only referred to as the Mages. Nevertheless, both young men have passed the preliminary sequences with significant success and are now prepared for the final phase.

Mr. Black examines them through the thick glass wall, observing Eric manning the equipment. Are there any concerns among your crew here? Anyone who may jeopardize the security protocols?

Without hesitation, the doctor says, No, I should think not! Kline’s responds rather abruptly as if the question insulted his judgment.

With a sinister grin on his face, Mr. Black compliments him instead. This is good news. I didn’t want to be the one to terminate anyone’s blood-binding contract prematurely. Understandable, am I not right?

There will be no need for that, Mr. Black, I assure you! My people are loyal to the tasks. They’re quite aware of their duties.

Let’s just hope they remain that way, Dr. Kline. If not, I will gladly show them what Dark Horizons is all about!

Dr. Kline’s milky white complexion suddenly becomes even pastier after Mr. Black’s threat.

What is the problem with the specimen Cheryl? Why isn’t she progressing? Mr. Black inquires after seeing the girl in the third chamber pod.

Oh, um … yes, Cheryl Hunters, we found her locally. Not much information on her—except she was in foster care and ran away. We just recently acquired her after a report of a pyro-psionic attack in the Eastern Street Market causing severe chaos and injuries earlier this week. She claims she was looting many of the unsuspecting vendors of their perishable goods. After capturing her, we had to wipe her memories twice. She kept crying out for some person named Liam, I believe. After we did a sweep of the grounds, there was no sign of a Liam. We could only assume it was a boyfriend or someone because she wouldn’t give us any information on the identity of the male, and according to NSA, Cheryl Hunters doesn’t exist. She has no family or relatives. It’s just an alias. We administered a second dose, which calmed her immensely, but it may have completely suppressed all of her prior memory before her capture.

Hmm, that may not be a bad thing, really. In this way, we can plant new memories, best suits our needs and interests! Mr. Black points out manically, with a grimacing smirk.

At the moment she’s setting us back a little bit. Unlike the others, we initially thought it was because she had prematurely activated her M771 gene before the age of fifteen. But upon further inspection, we found a rarely unique anomaly within her. She hasn’t activated the gene we originally thought. She seems to have an unknown marker in her DNA strand. We can’t rightly isolate yet. It is tethering within her complex strand, short-circuiting the dormant M771 gene from fully engaging the telekinetic fields she can self-manifest.

Okay, this is definitely a new development. So, the spike she unleashed wasn’t her true psionic blast, correct? Mr. Black whispers to himself while looking at the girl in the chamber. This one may be the missing link after all! Her and the cursed, Black Wolf. I won’t even need the damn crystals, he thinks. Interesting. A double gene strand, you say? Oh, how I wonder. Is it possible? A soul gene … surviving the purge after all?

We believe this marker is preventively protecting her from our sequencing attempts with some sort of immunity and thus not allowing the assimilation of her M771 gene.

That absurd minuscule human child thinks she can divert my master’s grand plan? She is so gravely mistaken, dear doctor. I most definitely want to see what this child is capable of. Mr. Black snarls as he reaches into his suit’s inner pocket and removes a small vial with a black substance inside. Give this to the child. She will be compliant for sure, and she will activate the M771. It will also significantly suppress whatever else is inside of her. Mr. Black carefully hands over the small vial to the nervous Dr. Kline as if exchanging unstable plutonium.

What is this? Dr. Kline questions.

Mr. Black merely grins.

Is this blood? Why is it black? Dr. Kline tries to examine the unmarked vial with curious concern.

Consider it a one-of-a-kind gift to your species from the source of all sources, my dearest lord, and master.

Dr. Kline looks to the vial and turns back to Mr. Black.

Source? Source of what? What in God’s name, Mr. Black? Is this biological or synthetic? Is it compatible with—

Dr. Kline, you have something that no one on this forgotten, backwater planet can get their hands on. That vial will do the job that nothing else will. Guaranteed! You will find the subject much more cooperative, and it is a 100 percent compatible. While explaining to Dr. Kline the rarity of this sample, he slowly removes his shades, revealing his saturated black eyes with no visible white area. The doctor instinctively steps back. This is something that he has never encountered in his fifty-two years of science and medicine.

What the bloody hell! Dr. Kline exclaims, his voice trembling a bit. What are you? Nervous, he swallows hard. Mr. Black slowly walks toward the now paralyzed doctor.

"In simple terms young doctor, I am the planet’s coming future! This wretched world has slept for far too long. As they say, it is time … to reawaken the sleeping giant and bring a new order to this mundane existence. We are repositioning the missing pawn, your planet, back on the current game board of the universe. There will be a great change in the days to come, and it all starts here with you and me." Mr. Black once again conceals his fierce eyes behind his tinted glasses. Still smiling, he nods just before turning toward the shadows of the room, but he stops short when Dr. Kline calls out to him.

Mr. Black! Y-you, speak of change. What is it exactly? What are we doing or trying to accomplish here with these subjects?

Feeling no need to turn around, his voice fills the room with reverence and echo. Right now, we are planting the seeds to bring about a harvest of this planet’s greatest acolytes. These children will serve and die for my master’s return and bear witness to the most significant power this universe will ever be privileged to serve. The light of this world shall be enlightened by the darkness that is to come.

Are we talking the book of Revelation here?

You could only wish it was that peachy. You may even pray for an apocalypse when the time has come. Like the preacher standing before his flock with hands in the air, Mr. Black revels in his own words. What’s coming is nothing short of majestic divinity! Prepare yourself for the inevitable Dr. Kline, for the Dark Horizons be within our grasp, o’ faithful partner! Never using the existing doors, Mr. Black sends scowling laughter as he vaporizes into the shadows, which sends a chill down Dr. Kline’s spine.

Stumbling over to the workstation where Mr. Black was sitting, Dr. Kline spots something on the table that wasn’t there before. It’s a small business card. He picks the card up to inspect it and see a graven image of a black dragon. Its claws are gripping a double-edged sword, and there’s an inscription at the bottom that reads, My Lord and forever Master, Dark Heart.

Chapter 1

Six years later in the semirural township of Upper Marlboro, Maryland, the autumn harvesting season is in full bloom. And Franklin High School, barring the Dueling Dragons mascots, is buzzing with activity. It is late September. Some of the houses in the cul-de-sac are already exhibiting the festive Halloween spirit, including happy pumpkins stacks, black and orange lights, and fake webbing in the trees and bushes.

Mary Mathews and her husband, Gregory Mathew—parents of Kyra, Kyle, and Rissa Mathews—are preparing for the morning, and they are also disciplining their seventeen-year-old daughter and scholar, Kyra.

Mrs. Mathews places a gentle hand on top of her husband’s broad shoulder as she sits down next to him. Sitting across from her parents, Kyra patiently awaits a punishment, while her siblings prepare for school, like normal. Today is a total first for Kyra as she sits and counts the seconds on the wall clock. Ironically, this is often the usual position her wisecracking twin brother, Kyle, would be in. For the first time, Kyra notices just how enormous her father’s rugged hand is, nestled underneath her mother’s silky, delicate one.

Mary, Kyra’s mother, is simply beautiful in Kyra’s eyes. She has soft Polynesian features and a caramel complexion. She’s partially Hawaiian and partially American black. She is adorned with soft, wavy, corn silk hair that reaches all the way down her back, and her hazel brown eyes are so gentle just like Kyra’s but with a hint of green thrown in.

Kyra’s Irish culture stems from the family line of her father, an ex-marine lieutenant commander. He served six terms in the Gulf and Iraq occupation and finally came home for good, retiring after twenty-five years of dedicated service. For all intents and purposes, her father is a young man at forty-six years of age. He is still more physical than men half his age—Kyle not included. That boy is a freaking machine. And her dad has the body of a demigod. Kyra’s mother is a longtime doctoral professor at Bowie State University, holding a degree in constitutional law from Yale. She’s an avid crafter of the family’s Hawaiian heritage and cultural keepsakes. On the side, Kyra’s mom is a culinary hobbyist, and she is incredibly proud of the woman she has become at the young age of forty-one.

Mary gazes deeply and sympathetically at her husband before slowly panning toward Kyra, who is trying to avoid eye contact as much as possible. Mary contemplates her overwhelming emotions—love, pain, and utter disbelief that her daughter would do something so reckless and out of character. This is Kyra’s senior year of high school, and she has scholarships lined up.

With a profoundly distinct tone, Mary says, Seeing that we really don’t have the time this morning, we will have a long family meeting about your inexcusable actions yesterday, Ms. Kyra Cassandra Mathews. Your father and I are extremely disappointed in you.

Mary doesn’t like having this kind of talk with Kyra because her daughter has never crossed her or done anything to merit such recourse. Mary’s warm, smooth, alto tone is slightly harsh this morning. Though she wants to let the whole thing go, she knows that she can’t bend the rules for one and not the other two.

Mary continued, "You are the one we count on, Kyra Cassandra Mathews! You are the notable, responsible one among your siblings. The little-fabricated story you steered poor Mrs. Bentley into believing was cruel and unbecoming of the young lady I raised.

All of it just so you could engage in an unsupervised evening of fun-filled madness, some soiree, rave, or whatever it was meant to be—without our permission? This is inexcusable, young lady. We had to find out about the party from Julie’s mother this morning after Mrs. Bentley called with a deep concern for your well-being. She just thought it was odd that Kyle of all people was the one to pick up Rissa and not you. So, knowing how you and your recently reconnected bestie, Ms. Julie Guinevere Thompson, never seem to part from each other’s side for a moment ever since she and her family moved back from Japan, I had a nice little talk with Julie’s mother this morning. Quite enlightening, I must add.

She tries speaking up for herself, but she knows that when her mother starts using full names, there is no hope of getting a word in.

But Mom, I didn’t go!

Her sentence is cut short by her father’s commanding tone. Kyra, your mom, talked with Julie’s mother early this morning, so there is no use in denying what we know as fact. She tells your mom that your best buddy, Julie, along with you and a few others were supposed to meet up and head over to the live music at Wilmer’s Park, right? If you wanted to go out for the evening with your friend, hell, we would’ve been more than elated to let you go, considering you never get out of the house for anything except school and the library. However, taking it upon yourself to do so without our permission or any regard to your sister’s well-being is not a good indicator of the character I know you have, young lady.

Before Kyra can defend her position, her mother speaks, So as of today, you will be taking the bus to and from school—until further notice, that is. Once you get home, you will finish all your regular chores, and you are to scrub all four of the bathrooms from top to bottom! This will be done by the time I get home. Is that understood, Kyra Mathews? You will call and apologize to Mrs. Bentley for putting her through all of that worry.

But Mom! I have a project to finish with the AV department after school today, and we are supposed to attend the film expo in the auditorium afterward.

Sorry to hear that, sweetie, but not today. With the squint in her mom’s eye and the closed fist resting on her hip, Kyra knew this was an I mean what I say, and nothing more is to be said about it moment.

Both parents can easily see the swelling of emotions in Kyra’s eyes. She religiously takes each of her responsibilities to heart, never wanting to let anyone down. Accepting the disgrace, Kyra doesn’t try to defend her actions from the night before. There could have been a lot less confusion if she had just made a simple call. She feels she handled the situation to the best of her ability, so she excuses herself from the table and gathers her belongings for school.

She calls Julie to explain her situation, and Julie sympathizes. Julie lets her know she will meet up with her at the bus stop—as any good friend would—instead of driving.

Kyra is a bit puzzled by the sentiment. What are you talking about, Julie? What do you mean at the stop? You can still drive. You are not grounded.

Ha! Yeah, my retro blueberry bomb from 2008can sit home for a day.

Girl, you really need to stop! Your Sonata is cute.

"Yeah, for 2008. I need an upgrade bad …