Bloodguilt: Shadowless, #1

By Christopher Schmitz

Nuclear fire brought endless night.
The darkness hides invisible terrors known as entities.

After the end of the world, Dr. Swaggart knows a demon has infected mankind's last shelter. He knows of a cure: but that means going down the mountain. In the dark. And with a damaged oxygen tank.

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Sheltered in the underground Ark 1 facility, Earth's last 300 humans fear the dark above all else... the shadows hide an ancient, primal evil--one that can take control of people, and which humans have no defense against. Deep within the miles of well lit corridors, the lights begin to flicker and fail.

Before a new darkness falls, a drug addict and a man with Downs syndrome must reclaim the light and stop a new and final demonic Armageddon... but they learn that someone inside Ark 1 had more to do with unleashing these hellish fiends than any of the survivors know.

Stay in the Light... Stay alive.

Get book 1 in this sci-fi thriller now!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Christopher Schmitz
• Release date: Sep 23, 2021
• ISBN: 9798201242091

Christopher Schmitz

Christopher Schmitz (M.A.), geb. 1988, ist wissenschaftlicher Mitarbeiter am Göttinger Institut für Demokratieforschung.

Book preview

The Shadowless

bloodguilt

by

Christopher D. Schmitz

The Affliction Cycle

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© 2021 by Christopher D. Schmitz

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For my kids…

Just in case I never told you, there really were monsters in your closets.

The

Shadowless

Prologue

Doctor Raymond Lems awoke with a gasp and sat up. Pain riddled his body. It forced him to drop back upon the collapsible stretcher where he found himself laying. His torso felt like someone stabbed him with burning pokers. Raymond touched his hand to his chest and looked at it with groggy eyes. Blood.

With great effort he lifted his head enough to glimpse his chest. Raymond cried out as he peeled away the blood-soaked gauze. Bullet holes—and why can’t I hear anything? He could only feel an empty rattle in his throat as he screamed—tinnitus drowned out all sounds. Shock rang in his ears, drowning out everything else.

Where in the Hell am I? What happened—this is all General Braff’s fault. I’m certain of it!

Raymond didn’t recognize the room, though it looked familiar… these were the same color schemes company designers painted at his research lab; supposedly they calmed people. He growled. Raymond had quit the lab after finding they had begun secret experiments on children and the disabled.

Wiping away a hot tear, he tried to piece everything together, but he couldn’t remember anything that had happened since meeting up with Agent Scofield at that crappy diner. Why can’t I remember? he barely heard his voice as the ringing in his ears lessened.

He knew why he couldn’t remember, but he refused to entertain such a notion. If he had become a carrier—if those things had controlled his body—then all hope was lost.

Even though Raymond wasn’t a medical physician, he was still a doctor, and as such he recognized many of the haphazardly strewn medical supplies upon on the table next to him. A bag of blood hung on a rack; it fed into his IV and kept him from bleeding out. Why did they leave me here? Where are the doctors and nurses?

A second bag of fluid hung nearby—this one contained a mix with morphine in it, but it hadn’t been injected yet. Shakily, Raymond pinched the catheter and rammed it into a vein. It only took a few tries. After a few seconds, the pain relaxed enough that his ears began operating again; his body fought back against the trauma and shock.

He looked over his body again, assessing the swelling and purple bruises. Some kind of noise blurped in the hallway as he looked over the bullet wound.

Who in the Hell shot me? Raymond wondered as he scanned his surroundings with fresh eyes. And who puts a gunshot victim in a supply room? He groaned and crawled off the bed before staggering across the linoleum. He knew the answer: someone with no intention of coming back.

The research scientist yanked the intravenous lines from his arms and pushed open the door where the swelling sounds of chaos greeted him. Yellow lights flashed everywhere in the hall, bathing everything with pulsating amber. Warning sirens shrieked in time with klaxon lights. Inhuman screams echoed from a nearby stairwell sounding like some kind of portal to the underworld he’d often joked that his and Swaggart’s madcap research would open.

Raymond stumbled across the hall and found a door with a familiar nameplate. He scowled, but opened the entrance to General Roderick Braff’s office and locked it behind him.

Where are you, Swaggart? Raymond limped across the hallway and towards the broken window at the far side of the room wondering where his friend had gone. Blood leaked from his oversaturated bandages and he felt light headed.

Shards of glass crunched underfoot as he meandered past the general’s ornate, wooden desk. A bittersweet odor tugged at his nose. The doctor grabbed clumsily at the smoldering cigar that lay on the desktop.

With shaky fingers, Raymond barely succeeded in placing the smoking husk between his lips by the time he got to the busted window pane. He peeked out at the commotion. A herd of bodies sprinted across the far slope, heading up the hillside in a herd panic. Dread filled the researcher’s gut with hot regret. It all made sense: the blackout, the gunshots, the sirens. The entities have broken free from their containment units in the basement.

He looked at the ground and noticed an empty shoe abandoned upon the tangle of broken, bloody glass. Raymond couldn’t be certain, but he thought it could be Braff’s brand. It made him happy to think that someone had finally thrown that bastard through a second story window. He just wished it could have been there to see it.

Raymond looked back towards the mountainside. The peaks stood in stark contrast to the eerie light glowing behind them. Then, something brilliant flashed and all the light on Earth went out.

PART I.

Bloodguilt

1,291 Days Post Extinction-Day

1

Michelle ignored the gentle hum of fluorescent panels; their ever-present whir assured them of protection like some kind of 60-cycle Holy Spirit. She looked across the room at her older brother and the priest. I hope Ricky won’t be too much trouble, Father.

She and the Father Ackley both looked at Ricky.

Ricky folded and tucked his tattered paperback into his belt. Her big brother took that old book everywhere he went; 1001 Jokes and Puns was a kind of security blanket that he’d carried with him for years—even since before they’d arrived at the facility.

Fidgeting with one of the priest’s origami models, Ricky squinted against the sterile, mechanical light.

Despite having Down syndrome, Ricky possessed a certain, keen intelligence. His sister recognized it, even if she was biased. He always concentrated on something new and exciting.

Father asked, How long have you known me, Michelle?

Ever since arriving here on E-day… about three years, now.

Have I ever let you down?

She sighed. No.

Father put a hand on her diminutive shoulder. The feisty woman didn’t protest his attempt to comfort her. He was one of only a few who could get away with it. Ever conscious of her size, she typically interpreted such acts as condescension.

I’ve got this, Father insisted. He won’t be any problem at all.

They both glanced over at Ricky. The gentle giant slowly and methodically unfolded the paper toys, noting exactly how they went together. He struggled through the first couple of folds and then lost his way. Ricky turned to his sister. Worry creased his face and he feared he’d broken one of Father’s figurines.

Don’t worry, Father reassured him. I can put them back together, and I’ll even show you how to fold your own. Is there something you want to make?

Ricky’s demeanor brightened, and he turned back to the papers. I like ducks, he said. Let’s make a whole flock.

Father smiled at him and nodded. He turned to Michelle and repeated, Don’t worry. You need this break. Before you know it, you’re going to be busier than you’d have ever imagined.

Fine, she huffed, flooding her voice with begrudged resignation that belied how badly she wanted to stretch her legs in the miles of maze-like tunnels below the mountain. The complex had been their home ever since Extinction-day: the day mankind nearly died out. But I’m going to find some of those supplies we talked about. I’m sure that there’s got to be a cache of prenatal vitamins in the facility somewhere… Lord knows we’ve got everything else stockpiled.

I’m sure you will find them, Father assured her. That’s what he did; it was why people trusted him to lead. Oh, one more thing I want to warn you about, he said, making sure he had her attention. There is a man, a recluse of sorts… people have spotted him in the halls from time to time. Nobody knows his real story; why he’s a recluse remains a mystery.

She met his gaze. ‘The Hermit of the Halls?’ I’ve heard of him from the others… only rumors, really. I think I saw him once, a long time ago. What about him?

Just… stay away from him, he asked, but he looked at her sternly enough that it felt more like a direct order. You have no idea how important you are to this community. What if medical problems arise over the next trimester?

Michelle downplayed his warning. She understood her role in Earth’s remaining population.

Shrugging off the warning, she honestly hadn’t thought about the stranger in years—but now that he’d mentioned it, Michelle felt distracted by all manner of what-if scenarios.

As one of the community members with limited access codes for the secure areas, like the infirmary and medical storage, she had recognized signs that another person had accessed locked places from time to time. Nobody could ever explain the odd things she noticed when asked and she suddenly wondered if this hermit had some kind of high-level security clearance.

Outside of the remnant, he was the only other human left alive on the planet and why he wandered the corridors instead of joining the community proved a great mystery. Michelle bobbed her head in absentminded agreement before she turned to leave Father’s office. She smiled at Ricky who waved goodbye.

Michelle? The priest knew she hadn’t paid him any mind.

She met his gaze this time.

I mean it. Don’t go stepping into any shadows.

Michelle nodded, understanding his inference.

Illumination panels on the facility walls and ceilings made the notion impossible in a literal sense. I’ll be careful. I promise. She shouldered her canvas backpack and left Father’s office.

Crossing the main community square, she waved to Janet and flashed a lackadaisical smile before exiting the central hub of the main residential zone.

The only female resident with any military experience, Janet often assisted Michelle in medical procedures. She had received enough cursory training in the army to make her an asset.

Janet fired back with an inquisitive look as the diminutive doctor headed towards the cloistered community’s primary exit. Michelle said nothing as she walked past; she’d kept her brief vacation quiet, coveting her calm before the storm began and she was tied to the delivery