Whispering Dusk

By Sanyee Barjogar Jr.

My childhood was stolen from me by monsters …

Twenty-three-year-old Rowling Carter lives in a nightmare world plagued by an erratic virus that turns ordinary people into supernatural creatures. She has endured much suffering, trying to survive with her mother, boyfriend, and teenage little brother. But fate takes her on an unexpected path when she comes across a mysterious boy in the woods, Ephraim Young, who warns her of a coming attack on her people and informs her about a forthcoming cure.

Risking everything based on this flicker of hope, Rowling faces a series of unprecedented events when Noah Pride, a fierce and determined hunter from the vampiric Resurgent Contingent, becomes infatuated with her. Will Rowling be able to set aside her prejudice against the supernatural to help find a cure? Or will everything go horribly, horribly wrong?

In this novel, a mysterious virus turns humans into supernatural creatures, and a young woman sets out on a quest to find a cure to save herself, her family, and the world.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Archway Publishing
• Release date: Oct 22, 2020
• ISBN: 9781480894792

Sanyee Barjogar Jr.

Sanyee Barjogar Jr. began writing at a very early age. He has worked at a movie theater and as a TSA at a high school, helping children with special needs. He hopes to build a career in filmmaking and book publishing. He currently lives in Maryland.

Book preview

Copyright © 2020 Sanyee Barjogar Jr.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by

any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying,

recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system

without the written permission of the author except in the case of

brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents,

organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products

of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

Archway Publishing

1663 Liberty Drive

Bloomington, IN 47403

www.archwaypublishing.com

844-669-3957

Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or

links contained in this book may have changed since publication and

may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those

of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher,

and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are

models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

ISBN: 978-1-4808-9480-8 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-4808-9478-5 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-4808-9479-2 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2020919071

Archway Publishing rev. date: 10/21/2020

In memory of my mother,

and an appreciation to my father;

thank you for always supporting my dreams.

CONTENTS

Chapter 1     The Hunter

Chapter 2     The Boy in the Woods

Chapter 3     Nice to Meet You

Chapter 4     The Dead Boy

Chapter 5     The Dead Boy Part II

Chapter 6     Likewise

Chapter 7     Fort Grant

Chapter 8     The Kid

Chapter 9     Dead People Have Fun

Chapter 10   Back to Black

Chapter 11   Back to Black Part II

Chapter 12   The Trial

Chapter 13   Home is Where the Blood is

Chapter 14   Into the Fray

Chapter 15   The Fall of Fort Grant

Chapter 16   The Fall of Fort Grant Part II

Chapter 17   From the Fray

PRELUDE

I t hit every city. Every neighborhood. Every home. Everyone . What was once lost has been found and returned to the world that had forgotten it.

The supernatural.

A mysterious virus was unleashed unto the world and spread like a wildfire. What started off as a mild case of the flu, transformed into something worse. People started to change into monstrous things.

Creatures.

People became what we only saw on TV or in a movie. Things that history had written off as nothing more than myth and superstitions. No. They were real. The pathogen brought them back. The world belongs to them. It always did. Now, humans are fighting to belong in it. As we once have before …

64908.png

FORWARD

T he woods were silent. A soft but ominous fog lingered over the dirt floor. I stared without breathing at the girl’s bruised-up face that accepted the earth’s grit and had been colored with fresh blood. I never hoped for anything more but to be given a sign that there was some sort of evidence that she was alive, hoping to hear her breathing, or a heartbeat. Something. It was hard to focus on her. Every single raindrop that fell to the ground was like enduring one explosion after another, like fireworks.

She rested beside the flipped vehicle, its headlights shooting a solid beam into a wall of darkness between tall trees. The smell of her was strong. It was sweeter than the blood of the other people that laid still beside her. Her blood was richer, more distinct, and even more intoxicating. I could feel the fangs growing without my permission, slicing into my bottom lip as I bit down on my tongue. I hoped in using the pain as an instrument to numb my ever-growing thirst.

The girl, she looked so peaceful, so beautiful, even with the mud and leaves tangled in her dark hair. I took a step closer, the snapping of twigs in the distance startled me. I turned to see if my companion had caught up to me. It seemed I still had time …

I focused back on the sleeping beauty and stepped closer. Her eyes fluttered. I halted my breathing. Slowly, the darling eased her eyes open to greet her surroundings. She seemed dazed, trying to remember where she was. Then her dark and sleepy eyes slowly dragged itself toward me.

And there we were, staring at each other in the rain. Me before an angel who had her hand towards a gun …

CHAPTER 1

THE HUNTER

A soft drizzle loomed as nature took its course. The crunching sound of leaves, soft breathing turned heavy. The purr of a stalking predator, and the fear of the prey it sniffed, then suddenly, like a gunshot echoing into the air, the strike of a thunderous roar. The damned thing ended with blood. The prey finally in the mouth of the predator. It was poetic, and of course, mirrored to what I am.

A predator.

I tried not to think about the awful sight, but the saturated sound of tearing flesh was hard to disregard. It dried my lips, and it was as if sandpaper was rubbing against the walls of my throat, itching and choking me. I eyed the cougar as it bit deep into the neck of the impuissant creature. This was the beginning of a season that death itself favored; Autumn, a season of perfection in my humble opinion, and the only time I could feel the backbone of West Virginia’s vast landscape. The eeriness of it, the feeling of sadness, and the acceptance of an eternal sleep. Once everything was at peace, the land would be smothered in white until it was time for the sleeping seeds within the soil to emerge into new life. I suppose it was something to look forward to. If anything, a distraction from, well, everything else.

Silence humbled the forest. Even the tiniest sound could serve as an immense disruption that my susceptible ears could hear. A simple acorn, something running across the forest. Being what I am, it was nearly impossible for anything to escape my sight..

My skin soaked in the cold. With every step I took, I seeped deeper into the gray pool of my thoughts. Clouds of my breath danced into the air and were carried away by swift winds. Memories of my life before this crept in. Everything changed. There was nothing I could have done. The world I knew, gone. Whatever chance I had of living a normal life was ate up and spat out like chewing tobacco. This was my new life. And it would last forever…

Sigh.

At any moment, the human we had been chasing for days on end would run into my line of fire. Perhaps something would catch his foot and make him trip so I would miss. At least I hoped for that, but I never missed, and with a single air-splicing bullet, he’d be dead. His splattered blood would soak into the soil, and the bullet would’ve drilled a hole through his temple. It’s a harsh truth in this crooked reality. The very thought of tasting his blood made my mouth pool with saliva. Fresh venom flooded onto my tongue, making me taste its sour flavor as I imagined burying my fangs into his pulsating neck. I’d step from my position and be by his side within a single second. The smell of his blood would be sweet enough to make me lose control. I’d savor his blood with a stolen taste, nice, quick, and easy, before the others would come. I’d want more. Always more.

This was one of the first of humans we’d seen in months. The humans grew more aware of where we hunted, and they knew that we actively tried to avoid our natural adversaries: Shifters. Werebeasts. There were even rumors that humans were fighting back against us, and managed to kill Resurgents, as well as the feral brutes. Using their research on the supernatural to advance against us. My people had to be smart and wait for the perfect time to go into the woods and hunt. Days of daylight didn’t make that so easy.

We Resurgents kept off into the cities, holding onto our once human way of living the best we could, hunting when we were able. Our contingent is strong, powerful, and has maintained civility. But as time passed, people in our contingent grew hungry, and with Shifters on the prowl it made it hard to hunt for essentials. The only substitute would be animal blood, but that was never enough to soften our profound and incessant hunger.

I blinked the thought away. I knew better. My hunger was not my top priority, despite what my body constantly told me. Kill the prey and bring it back to harvest. That’s it. After that, I could merry-make for as long as I wanted. If only that day came soon. I hope that today would be it. I could almost taste the victory.

Another soft hum of wind swept through the forest made of trees which rioted with color, jumping into myriad shades of brown, red, and yellow. It made me think back to before I was first welcomed into my second life.

Life was so simple, well, as simple as it could’ve been for a teenager. But as the pandemic progressively got worse, life became a living hell. I remembered being stupid, reckless, and scared all the damned time. But I was also determined, relentless, and innocent. The first two strands of the virus that unleashed itself into the world were the Resurgent and Shifter strands. My mother was first to succumb to the fatality of the vampiric Resurgent strand like majority of the population. It started as a series of mysterious cases that caused a great panic. The symptoms were that of a harsh flu, but it came with a complete alteration of personality too, making people deranged and violent. Many infected by this strand died, only to later return ravenous for blood and human flesh. It was similar—but not the same—as the Shifter strand of the virus, which acted as a fever that came with a nosebleed and made people territorial and violent. And when a full moon announced itself, well, you know how it goes…

A couple of months into the pandemic, my mother had gotten infected. I was by her side on her sickbed when her cold body started to move. Her eyes shot open, glowing fiery and red, the very eyes all Resurgents adopted. The look on her sunken face, the way her ice-cold skin felt—she was dead, I knew it to be true. I had witnessed the life that left her eyes, and her smile that had fell into a straight line. She was gone. But there she was, standing with a menacing grin, more alive than ever, and undeniably beautiful and perfect in every way. She didn’t look sick; she was as pretty and as young as she could look. The last thing I remembered before my father drove a broomstick through her heart was her wicked smile that revealed blade-shaped fangs. The display of her strength when she threw us across the room like we were nothing. The way she looked at my little sister like she was something to eat, and believe me, the way my mother’s crazed-up eyes looked, she most definitely was. Ever since then I’ve only had my father and baby sister, Willow, as well as, of course, the human resistance that formed a community against people who haven’t been infected. Given the blood-sucking nature of the Resurgents, humans quickly became the bottom of the food chain, especially when the Shifter strand started floating around. My only fascination with the Shifter strand was that although Shifters were typically that of a werewolf, there were other strands that branched from it that mutated people into other forms of equally violent animals.

When the pandemic came about and things around the world progressed into the worst possible outcome, that was when I knew that this was the end of my natural human life. No longer an ignorant teen, but a child forced to grow in a world of monsters. Until the night I became one…

It happened just two years after the world I knew ended. I was part of a hunting party sent out by the beginning of a human rebellion, the human contingent. We had done all we could, salvaged as much food as we could carry and loaded it onto our trucks. We were well on our way back to one of our camps deep in the woods just south of West Virginia. We were riding in our trucks, desperate to get out of the trickling snow and make it back to our families. Little did we know what we were headed towards.

A full moon sat in the center of a starless night sky. My friend Cody and I sat in the back of a pickup truck, smothered by all the food and supplies we were hauling. He looked at me with a smile. He was proud of our turnout. We all were. Finally, a taste of hope. Or so we thought…

Almost home, Noah! I can hardly wait! Cody smiled at me. He was the type of kid, that with one look, you knew he would have a bright future ahead of him. Back in the old world, he was your average kid who made good grades, a mama’s boy, and had the strangest habit of tucking his shoelaces in his shoes rather than tying them. The kid was good at heart, a sweet kid who was gonna go places. Too bad none of that mattered. He had to become a survivor in a world ruled by monsters and killers. The boy with a goofy smile and playful spirit had to become someone who used guns and couldn’t hesitate to kill.

I gave Cody my one-of-a-kind smile and asked him, Why you so happy to get home? A special lady wouldn’t have anything to do with that, would it? I smirked. Cody blushed hot red. He looked away from me, trying to focus his attention elsewhere. He gulped and turned back to face me, but in the next instant, before he had a chance to get a word out, his blood splattered across my face. Unable to process what had happened, I wiped the blood away from my eyes and stared at my red-stained fingertips. Finally coming to realization of the tragedy, I screamed Cody’s name in terror. Every single memory of him flashed across my mind and had been replaced with his headless body that sat before me, blood spraying out from where his head was once attached, squirting everywhere like a timed sprinkler.

From out the darkness of the woods, it was a Shifter that had pounced on our truck and bit into Cody’s head and tore it clean off with its strong jaws. On the other side, the Resurgents rushed at us, toward a pack those beasts, ready to fight them. Yet again we were caught between their territorial feud, derived from being power-hungry. Only this time there was nowhere to run and nowhere to hide.

Our trucks screeched to a halt. Many of our men fired their guns at the beasts that charged us. Some died. Some. Barely a difference made in their numbers. A pack of Shifters against a group of Resurgents—humans were slaughtered between them both. Another beast from out the shadows pounced on the truck and began butchering the passengers inside. Losing control, the truck toppled across the battlefield of supernatural killers.

Through the bloodshed and with a broken leg, I crawled myself toward a tree in hopes to hide behind it. I couldn’t even see the color of my skin. My clothes and skin were drenched with the blood of other people. Desperately, I tried to wipe their blood off my face, my hair dripping with more of it. I sobbed, scared out of my mind, struggling for my life. It in all came to a stop when I noticed a man, bare to the world, not a shred of clothing on him. The man’s skin was colored, and his hair blended in with the dark. His eyes were made of leather and began to glow orange and cut through the night. Slowly, painfully, he began to transform, shifting through flesh and bone. I never saw something so wicked, watching as he tore the skin off him like he was a snake, revealing the cruel murderous beast from within. His cries turned into that of a snarling dog, barking wild and foaming out the mouth. The man was now a tall bi-pedaled creature covered with dark fur.

This was the moment I thought that I was going to die. This was the end, a life I never got to live robbed from me yet again. Just when he was about to pounce on me, a resurgent had punched a hole into his chest, gripping onto his still-beating heart. The man ripped it out the beast and the beast fell to his knees, and seemingly out of spite, the demon broke its neck and happily ripped off its head. The cold-looking man tossed the severed head to the side like it was nothing.

The man sauntered towards me as I watched helplessly, his eyes glowing like sunlit rubies. The man kneeled before me and brought his face close to mine. The stench of death was hot on his breath. He darkly chuckled and revealed his fangs with a sinister grin. I looked into his eyes prepared to die, the sound of gunshots and screams slowly dying. There was only me, him, and the space between us that thinned as he inched closer.

Don’t be afraid, kid, the cold creature spoke. He sounded like Clint Eastwood back in his younger days. You’re safe now. Before I could open my mouth, the Resurgent’s fangs buried deep into my neck and pierced into my jugulars. I sat there as he drank my soul away, draining every drop of blood from my body. Blood gushed out of my mouth as I felt my body die. The pain that followed; I wouldn’t wish it on my worst enemy.

He stopped. It was a hesitant reaction, but he did. I could tell he wanted to keep going, but experience allowed him strength. My neck burned. It was like white-hot fire traveling through my veins, burning rough in them in a way I couldn’t describe. It went from my neck to my arms, then itched away at my eyes. My body was thrown into a seizure. The pain, I wanted it to stop. Hell, I was begging for a quick death at that point. I was hot and cold at the same time. My body couldn’t keep up with the transition. I vomited, pissed myself, and vomited again. The creature smiled coolly as he watched amused.

Wh-what’s happening to me?! I growled, choking on this sour taste in my mouth. I felt every bone in my body ached, and the splitting headache that brewed from my temples ran down my jaw that throbbed, as if something was growing in my mouth from out my skull. I knew the answer to what I asked, but I figured for him to confirm it would bring me some sort of comfort, maybe.

It didn’t.

The man … Resurgent… laughed. Isn’t it obvious? he grinned. You’re dying. the creature said in a soft and friendly voice. His eyes were the last thing I saw before darkness greeted me.

When I woke up, I woke up screaming. My head throbbed and I felt stiff. I was at what appeared to be a camp, my camp, the campsite of human survivors. My father and little sister were on their knees, trembling scared, lined up with other hostages. The Resurgents had found our camp. There were fewer of them compared to how many I’d seen last night, most likely massacred by the Shifters.

Noah! my dad screamed. Hearing his voice made me jump. I snapped my head in his direction and tears immediately flooded my eyes. The tall pale man smiled at me, the man from last night, the man who bit me, changed me and made me a killer like him. I looked at my family and the other survivors again suddenly met with the feeling of hunger. An itch danced in my throat. The coldness of the snowless winter had no longer bothered me. I heard the beating hearts of my people and felt the earth spin. Suddenly, all the weight of the world had come rushing in.

Drink your pain away, Noah, the Resurgent leader demanded. It’ll make your new life easier, trust me. I didn’t know what that meant, or the pain it would bring me. I only knew I was hungry, and that it was driving me crazy.

Over time I grew to be humble and accepting of what I became. Insatiable. I couldn’t get enough. There were plenty of men and women I had fun slaughtering. Using my bare hands, my claws, to mutilate their flesh and fracture their bones. After a couple of years learning the values of being a Resurgent, I grew humble and became the most tamed of the