Prismatica

By L. David Hesler

"Lucid, chilling, and darkly hopeful…" – Tominda Adkins, author of Vessel

 

Officer Michael Duncan went missing in 1993 while trying to save a local child from flood waters in the woods of Soldier Creek.

There are unimaginable secrets in the forest where Michael disappeared.  Sinister magic toils just beneath the surface of reality, feeding on the lives of innocent children throughout the ages. Michael's first encounter with magic was brief and dreadful.

 

He was presumed dead for almost twenty years.

 

And then he came back.

 

Magic is real. And it comes at a cost.

 

*   *   *

This book is a companion to the Aerthwheel dark fantasy series. It is approximately 80 pages long.

• Language: English
• Publisher: L. David Hesler
• Release date: May 31, 2022
• ISBN: 9798201564667

L. David Hesler

L. David Hesler is an author of horror, fantasy, and science fiction for teen and adult readers. He currently produces the horror fiction podcast Bad Notes; he also co-produces the Be Mega Podcast, where he spends a few hours every week creating absurd super heroes with his friend Adam Martens. When he isn’t crafting weird tales, he is either pounding away on a Schecter guitar in his home studio or he’s trying to catch up on a reading list that’s been growing since 1995. L. David Hesler’s work includes the short story collection “Prismatica,”the ongoing novella series “Divine Intermission,” and the YA fantasy novel, “Children of Aerthwheel.” His poetry and short fiction have appeared in the literary magazines “New Wine,” “The Ivy Review,” and “State of Imagination.” His original play “Public Domain” was produced in 2012. He has also published the YA fantasy adventure “Roswell Newton,” a re-imagining of his own independently produced web comic “The Adventures of Roswell Newton.” Hesler has also written and performed music for several alternative rock albums with the bands DeepSkyTraveler and The Pale Hypnotic. In 2011, he released an album of music inspired by his novel “Children of Aerthwheel.” Occasionally, he performs live music in the virtual world of Second Life. For approximately seven years, Hesler was heavily involved in local theater to the point that he co-founded a production company that ran performances of “The Complete Works of William Shakespeare (abridged)” from 2000 to 2003. As you read this text, he’s probably thinking of ways to simultaneously give you goosebumps and make you giggle. Be warned.

Book preview

The Trade

1997

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What I tell you now, I only tell because my time is coming. Do you understand? If I had another twenty or thirty years, I wouldn't tell this now. But I'm old and going soon, and if I'm gone, someone else has to know. Someone else has to carry it. That was part of the deal.

That was part of the trade.

*   *   *

I was twelve years old and all I wanted was to enjoy the simple silence of Soldier Creek, the green serenity that seemed to emanate from within the very water of the stream. I wanted to let go, embrace the sound of nothingness, save for a few restless birds flitting about the forest canopy. I wanted tranquility.

What I got was anything but tranquil.

You lost it? Justin asked, his voice flat and insignificant.

Derrick nodded, his eyes dancing from Justin's to mine. I only shrugged.

You lost it? Justin asked again. The one thing I asked you to look after? You lost my dad's compass?

Derrick said, I'm sorry, Justin, I really am! It must have fallen out of my pocket somewhere. I can find it, I know I can.

You're worthless. I knew I couldn't trust you.

Justin, please, I didn't mean to.

I stepped in because it was hard to listen to Derrick’s voice. He was one of my best friends and I couldn't stand to hear him beg for Justin's forgiveness.

We can go looking for it, I said. It won't take that long. We walk back along the creek, we check around the bikes. If it's not there, it has to be between here and the house.

Hope shimmered in Derrick’s eyes. His grimace trembled into something like a smile.

He said, Yeah, we can go back and look for it. What time is it? Not much after ten, right? We can look until lunch, then go back to the house!

We're not going back to the house, tubby, Justin said. I told you, we have to do this before we go back!

Well, we can look for the compass along the stream and if it's not there, maybe it's by our bikes, like Harlan said.

If we don't find it, Justin said through clenched teeth, I'll break your arm.

So we looked. It was ridiculous, of course. Three boys crawling along the edge of a knee-high creek in search of something the size of a walnut. It had been Justin's idea to come out to Soldier Creek in the first place. He’d heard one of the high school kids at Sam's General Store talking about ghosts that walked beside the stream. The high school kid, someone named Taylor, had claimed if you had a compass and you were walking beside Soldier Creek, the compass would go crazy. And if it went crazy, you'd probably find yourself face to face with a spirit. Claimed he’d seen it happen.

I didn't believe him, and neither did Derrick. But Justin had his reasons. We understood and we played along, hoping it would help him deal with whatever it was that he felt.

His father had drowned in this stream four years earlier. It was during a flash flood and he had been trying to help a girl about our age. People around town said the water swept them under and they disappeared. No one ever found the bodies.

I suspected Justin knew why he had taken us here, but he never told us outright. He only told us it was like an adventure, that we were exploring the unknown.

But I knew the truth.

He wanted to get his dad back.

*   *   *

You see anything? Justin yelled.

I crawled up the bank and stood at the edge of the woods and the pasture. There was no glint of sunlight, no sign of the compass anywhere on the ground. Justin bore his teeth in silent rage.

Derrick was on the opposite side of the creek, kicking through leaves and upending rocks.

It's not over there, Justin said. We never even went over there.

You never know, Derrick said. It's worth looking.

No, Justin said. It's worth kicking you in the face for losing my dad's compass!

Justin's dad had been named a local hero and there was a portrait of him hanging at the Mason's Post court house. Below the picture was the inscription, Beloved husband, devoted father. People still talked about how Officer Michael Duncan had given his life trying to save Esther Barnett, even though her family left town a few weeks after it all happened.

Justin picked up a rock and threw it at Derrick.

My arm! Derrick cried.

Stop it, I yelled. We're never going to find this thing if you keep arguing.

My voice echoed through the woods, scaring a handful of crows into the sky. A murder. That’s what they’re called: a murder.

Fine, Justin said. He suddenly sounded defeated. Let's just go. Forget the compass. Let's just keep going.

Derrick stayed on the other side of the creek. I'm sorry, Justin. Really.

Shut up.

We walked in silence for five minutes. Each footstep was an explosion of crumpled leaves and grinding stones.

Derrick broke the silence. I hope we find your dad.

Justin stopped walking. What did you say?

Derrick’s eyes were wide as he spoke. I mean, if what that kid at the grocery store said is true, maybe we'll run into your dad. Wouldn't that be neat?

You're an idiot, Justin said. We're not going to find him. So just shut up.

Seriously, Derrick said. I tried to gesture to him so he would stop talking, but he didn't notice or didn't care. What if we found him? What would you say? Would you give him a hug or something?

Derrick, I finally said. Stop talking.

I'm just saying if there are ghosts here, wouldn't it make sense that his dad was one of them?

He's not dead! Justin screamed, leaping across the stream and reaching for Derrick. They collided and fell to the ground. Justin threw several punches at Derrick's midsection.

Get off me! Derrick yelled. Harlan, get him off me!

I made no effort to jump across the water. I simply waded through it and pulled Justin away from Derrick’s body. He swung his fists at me a few times and I noticed the tears streaming down the sides of his face. He pushed me away and then ran, following the stream for a while before darting into the woods and disappearing over a hill.

Get up, I told Derrick. We need to catch him.

Before Derrick was on his feet, I was already chasing after Justin.

Hey! I screamed. Justin, don't run too far! We don't know the way!

Derrick and I scrambled up the hill, which flattened at the top. Forty or fifty feet further, it