Awaken The Gift: Kingdom of Night

By Krys Janae

It's time to Awaken...

 

After dedicating her life to being her Lolo Francisco's caretaker, Kassandra Drake wants a new start. New-ish, that is, when she's called back to her hometown of Blackwolf Bay. Things appear to be where she left them. Friends welcome her with open arms, she picks up work, and she rebuilds that quiet life she'd always wanted.

 

However, upon her return, she realizes that the place and people she knew and loved, have secrets that slowly unravel before her. Intrigued by a meet-cute with a bartender at her friend's party, Kassandra soon discovers that this meeting is the first step to solving the cryptic message her Lolo left her:

 

"Take the gift you've been given, and use it well…"

 

As she endures ongoing headaches and visions, attacks throughout the town, Kassandra encounters supernatural beings who call themselves the denizens of the Kingdom of Night. She must protect the ones she cares about, find her true place in this underground world, while uncovering who is behind the evil stalking her steps.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Krys Janae
• Release date: May 26, 2023
• ISBN: 9798215639382

Book preview

Prologue

Everyone handles grief differently.

This was something Kassandra understood as she watched the casket sink into the earth. Some cried, wailed, sobbed loudly to be heard or to let loose their grief. Others kept it to themselves, shed a tear or two quietly, and wiped them away with nearly unused handkerchiefs and tissues. Kassandra found herself spaced out for most of this ceremony, staring at the trees blossoming beyond her family’s plot as the sun shone between the clouds to cast its rays after a fresh rain.

It was a chilly spring afternoon, and Kassandra was surrounded by members of her immediate family, who were seated in the several rows closest to the priest reading the rites before burial. This crowd bloomed outward to extended family, then to acquaintances and the like as the crowd filled the cemetery to say their farewell to Francisco C. Drake. He was her Lolo, grandfather in their native tongue from the Philippines. He was the patriarch, and the last elder of his generation who had immigrated here to the States.

As she noted by the turnout for his service, he was a well-known name in the area, his green thumb and business savvy having grown his humble farming business into something lucrative for their family to thrive.

Kassandra stood beside the casket as the attendees passed, paying their respects by tossing dirt, flowers, tears, cries, pleas, and anything else into the open grave. Her family greeted her and showered her with hugs, kisses on the cheek or forehead, a thin-lipped smile when they were rendered speechless. Some of the younger kids even raised their right hands to their foreheads, the traditional greeting to an elder—and at twenty-six, going into twenty-seven years old, it was a compliment. It was, overall, a bitter reminder that the Dynasty was changing; that her parents’ generation was next.

This, of course, meant that her uncle and aunt were in possession of the new highest seat in their family, as the sole heirs to his business and his home. The money had never been on Kassandra’s list of desires. Not even while she lived on his vast estate in the upper crust of outer Gillespie, a beautiful bay side metropolis. She’d only been there for a year to tend to the house and help him while he lived his final days. Again, Kassandra had no interest in the money. While not well off. Besides—it wasn't like she could take off and run with it even if she wanted to, since it was locked behind a trust.

Though it was foolish of her to wish for something she knew she couldn’t have, that didn’t stop her from wanting the impossible: 

She wanted her Lolo, her grandfather, back. 

Her hand tightened around the purple-jeweled rosary that used to belong to her Lola (grandmother) as more of the attendees passed. As time droned on, the faces around her began to blur into a sea of the same, mournful face, one after another, until they filed away, leaving Kassandra alone at the headstone while everyone retreated to their cars to return to their merry lives.

Staring into the open pit, she sensed something. It was as if something was in the air, a chill at her back. She thought someone was standing behind her, hand on her shoulder, observing the unmoving, unchanging scene of the open grave. It was almost as if she felt a breath at her ear, the gentle pressure of a hand that squeezed her arm as a whisper of her name was said, and—

Kassi?

When she turned, she laid eyes upon a tall, broad man who was dressed neatly in a pressed suit that hardly fit his growing frame. Casting her eyes side to side, Kassandra thought for sure that it was Nico at her side, but it would’ve been impossible—and impractical—for him to have played this prank on her only to dart away to where he was standing now. He was at a distance, not close enough to possibly have touched her while so far away.

Kassandra cleared her throat, shaking off the cold, eerie chill as if a spirit had passed through her. She was in a cemetery after all, so it wasn’t improbable. But the sooner she got the hell out of there, the better. No use taking any of that energy with her. Her grief would be enough.

They’re waiting for us at the limo, said Nico, extending his hand in gesture for her to join him. 

Once more, she looked over her shoulder into the open grave and then back to her fiancé, before turning back to him. I’ll be right there. 

Nico nodded somberly, folding his hands together, but turning away to give her some privacy. 

Kassandra raised her tear-brimmed eyes to the sky, then allowed them to fall back down to the casket, now covered in a thin layer of dirt, flowers, and the flag draped over it to honor his time in the service.

At that moment, Kassandra opened her hand. Unbeknownst to her, she’d been clenching her fist so tight throughout the entire ceremony that her joints ached upon release. She revealed a gold ring with a pink tourmaline stone set within it. The thick band needed cleaning, even if she’d done her best to preserve it. Her Lolo Francisco wanted her to have it, but feeling too pained by the sight of it, she cast it into the grave.

As it clanked atop the casket and settled into the dirt there, Kassandra was satisfied enough to take her leave. There were no more words left to say except goodbye, but as it felt too raw of a cut to mend, Kassandra couldn’t bring herself to say it.

The post-funeral reception was like any other she’d been to when growing up, save for the fact that there were twice as many people than any typical family gathering. Despite her heightened emotions, she found comfort in the sight of the dining hall and buffet tables, one of which held a massive lechon (roast pig), big pots of steamed rice, pancit (noodles), adobo, a full dessert bar. Of course, she wanted to sneak a taste at the ube (purple yam) flavored goodies there, and she could have, but decided to wait. It was a feast for the entire town, it seemed, and she expected no less. The uncles, of course, were chatting at the barbeque, aunties chattering up and laughing loudly about ‘the good old days’… she couldn’t bring herself to laugh with them, and faking it would only seem disingenuous.

Numerous attendees she didn’t recognize, some who had flown in from their homeland of the Philippines or from all over the world just for the funeral. There were business associates, friends, comrades, folks she hadn’t seen in decades who had come to invade her personal space or give their condolences. Nico was gracious enough to guard her when the conversation drew to a lull that made her uncomfortable, which allowed her to take a breath of fresh air when needed. 

He would have made it to one hundred in October, they kept saying—varied concoctions of words that alluded to the same thing. Rubbing in the fact that he died just six months shy of a major milestone in his long life. That was what did it for her. She found herself outside, staring at the sky, as night had fallen fast when time was consumed by greeting patrons she was forced to see. 

Kassandra didn’t know why she felt the need to keep the eulogy she’d been pushed to write for the service. The crumpled piece of paper was fading from the tears of each readthrough, but it also somehow gave her comfort.

"Today, the world lost an amazing soul. My Lolo, Francisco G. Drake, left behind a tremendous legacy. Our family, for whom he’d worked so damn hard for—sorry for cursing Lola" —the congregation had laughed at that— "are forever in his debt for everything he did for himself, and his legacy. For us.

"In the Army, he served his country and his home, and fought for us. In the fields, he sowed the seeds that grew and flourished into the Drake name as it is today. It became a thriving business which created many jobs and opportunities for those less fortunate, for those like him, who came here to find their paradise. For those who sought the land of promise, and a better place for their children, and their children, and so on."

Kassandra had packed all her belongings shortly after the ceremony, mostly things she didn’t want to see or things that weren’t needed at the ready. But as she packed, as things started to feel more and more like the true end, as if she’d been forced into accepting the finality of it all, she started to waver.

"He’d wake us at six o’clock, every day. Get us ready for the day to work in the fields just like he did after letting us quote ‘sleep in,’" Kassandra huffed. "I’m not gonna lie: I’d get tired way before he did. And I’d watch him, the splintering handle of the shovels and rakes in his calloused hands, working hard to tend the vegetables and fruits. And it’d even be one-hundred degrees, and he didn’t care. It didn’t bother him. He was from the islands, after all. We’d work for hours too, with breaks—he wasn’t ruthless—but it was a lesson, that’s for sure. At the time, it felt tedious, like a chore or even punishment. But I liked spending that time together… What I’d give to have that time trapped in a little bubble to revisit now and then.

We were fortunate enough to work with him—even if we didn’t have to work at all. But he taught us not to rely on the company. The money. All the time. He taught us to be humble. To cherish the little things, and to enjoy the gifts of our hard work. 

After many appreciative and agreeing grunts and hums from the congregation, she continued.

"And after lunch he’d watch his dramas, his soap opera lineup—which he used to love watching with Lola."

Kassandra envied that. The love they’d had. The passion that kept burning even after fifty-plus years of marriage. It hurt to go into the garage every day after working her thankless job at that cafe in downtown Gillespie, haunted by the memory of them dancing together while the music played from her phone. Sweet moments, tender moments like that between two people who gave a damn about her, who raised her, were gone.

They were gone.

And with that emptiness, she felt like she was spiraling, crumbling… and falling.

Present Day Gillespie

Sometime later, Dr. Madsen’s Office

And how did that make you feel?

Kassandra snapped to the present. 

Here she was, in an office. There was a stretch of silence as the question lingered, and she studied the room quickly to regain her bearings. 

Knick-knacks were meticulously placed on the bookshelves lining the wall behind the man questioning her. Books, seemingly organized by size and color, were lined upon a dustless shelf. Small marble busts of famous psychologists accompanied them as book ends or decorations. 

The only other person in the room, much to her dismay, charged by the minute—so she began drumming her fingers anxiously on her thigh as she tried to find the answer. Dr. Patrick Madsen wasn’t the cheapest shrink she could find, but given that this was on the family’s bill after urging her to do so, it wouldn’t matter anyway. 

I lost you, didn’t I? Dr. Madsen smirked. 

Kassandra cleared her throat. I’m sorry,

He shook his head, No, no. I understand your need to disassociate right now. You just went through a major loss, and I can’t imagine the toll it’s taken on you. Life changes direction sometimes, and you can’t help it. Your energy may feel low, your concentration not as sharp as it usually is. Correct?

Kassandra looked up, and after a moment, nodded. Right.

Flipping back in his notes, Dr. Madsen exhaled, before stopping on one page. You mentioned falling. The dream. This recurring one you’ve been having. You’re falling and have cold sensations throughout your body. But what happens? Do you land? Where are you?

The dream. Kassandra gulped.

This dream had been recurring since before Lolo Francisco passed away, and each time it happened, it stopped in the same exact spot. 

I don’t know, she said, and shook her head. Every single time I have it, it just stops.

Stops? he echoed.

"I’ll be on the bridge—the Whitehaven Line—and then suddenly it all goes black right before I wake up. But right before then it’s like… I was floating."

Madsen’s brow furrowed, as if he was taken aback by the mention of the bridge between Gillespie and her hometown. Floating… 

Kassandra blinked, noticing how he had to repeat everything she was saying as if she could make it any clearer than that. Look, I know it’s probably nothing, probably something to do with my move, and—

You’re moving? 

Kassandra took a deep breath, irritated by this continuous repetition. Yes. I’ll be leaving soon.

There was a pregnant pause here as Dr. Madsen processed this. Why this seemed to bother him, she couldn’t be sure, other than the fact that he’d be losing a big paycheck by potentially losing her from his roster. But judging by the looks of things in his office, that was the last of his worries.

Now that my grandfather’s gone, I just don’t see a future in Gillespie.

I see. Dr. Madsen nodded, closing his pad before setting the expensive looking pen atop the leather-bound papers.

I’m still getting my affairs in order, but I decided to take some time to get my life back together, start over somewhere else.

She let out a deep breath and thought back once more to the rest of the eulogy she’d given that day, recalling the eyes staring back at her, reverently listening on as she spoke fondly about her late Lolo Francisco.

"‘Take the gift you’ve been given, and use it well…’ My Lolo Francisco said. What this means, I have yet to figure it out. Maybe my own freedom? Maybe our piece of his legacy that we should now move forward, plant and watch thrive? That is what I will take with me. But this is not goodbye. At least, not forever. This is a for now. He is at rest, and I know I hope he’s with Lola, watching us, dancing together again. But the Drake Legacy, the chapter of Francisco G. Drake, has come to a close. And for everything he has done, we are grateful."

Back in the present, Kassandra looked over at Dr. Madsen, who’d stopped writing as she stopped speaking.

Kassandra was indeed grateful for her Lolo and the family name and legacy, for the relationships that she was able to form because of his determination to pursue his American Dream and build his life here. 

As for her interpretation of his last substantial phrase uttered to her before he passed, she wondered, perhaps, that he meant the gift of freedom? The gift of life? Love?

Or was it purpose?

This was her chance to figure it out, and living in the big city of Gillespie was far too busy and noisy for her, to dive back to square one and reassess her life. For that reason alone, she felt compelled to tell the doctor: 

I’m going back to Blackwolf.

Chapter One

Six Months Later…

After three years in Gillespie, she was headed home. Home-home, that was, in the town across Blackwolf Bay, to its namesake town that had less than half of the population of the bustling metropolis. Things were quiet there, which would give her a chance to hear her own thoughts, and that allure was a high selling point. It was a retreat hotspot for many, to go and unwind, or recharge.

It was strange to her still, leaving the nest, even if it wasn’t her choice to live on the Drake Estate grounds to begin with. She’d only been there to help take care of her Lolo when he got sick, but this was her chance to find herself again. Or so she hoped.

Her Auntie Nettie, Uncle David, a couple of her cousins, and even her youngest brother, Anthony, had thrown a small farewell breakfast for her, with a few others dropping in to grab a bite and see her off. They thought it was funny, considering she was only a couple hours’ drive away, but any tight-knit family like theirs would understand the need for all the ceremony and festivities around someone’s departure. More importantly, it meant they got to eat and help her load the last set of boxes into her old, beat-up car.

Unfortunately, with her busy morning, most of Kassandra’s texts and emails were ignored, even the one marked urgent from her best friend Cara Beth. Sure, she’d get shit for not responding right away, but she’d handle the blowback when the time came. She’d be closer to Cara Beth soon, and within gossip distance for her to drop in anytime anyway.

It was just before noon when Kassandra finally crossed the Whitehaven Line, officially transferring everything from Gillespie to Blackwolf Bay. That strange, cold feeling she felt returned, the looming presence behind her, cold and uninvited, just over her shoulder as she drove. Kassandra gasped, looking into the rearview mirror, expecting someone in her back seat, but there was no one there. She’d nearly swerved but corrected quickly, grateful that there wasn’t anyone else driving in the lane behind or beside her. 

Onward she traveled, hearing another buzz from her phone, and the name Cara Beth on the screen, but she refused to give in to the temptation to read it. Not yet. She’d have to wait ‘til she got home before she could message back and see what was so ‘urgent.’ 

When she approached the town, sunlight reflected off the snowy peaks of the mountains in the distance, projecting brilliant rays of the afternoon glow onto the road. With the radio blaring her favorite classic rock songs, Kassandra left all her windows open, and belted along to the music. It was something to distract her from the fact that she was really seeing this through; giving up her cozy place in Gillespie, a corner of the Drake Estate that she had no intention of seeing for a while—unless there was some big affair. Or maybe a holiday? Or maybe not.

The wind roared in through the cracks, swirling throughout the car and blowing through her hair, picking up each strand and throwing them backwards with the current.

The city limits sign blurred past.

Blackwolf Bay, Population 49,034.

There was no mistaking the fact that this place had grown from a quiet mountain tourist stop to a well-populated town, though it didn’t hold a candle to Gillespie. At least, not yet.

As she took the slow turn of the bend on that signaled her time on the Whitehaven was ending, the bright sunlight shifted out of her eyes. She pushed her visor back up, and the breathtaking view of Blackwolf Bay brought on a wave of relief. 

Near the top of the tallest mountain was Summit, a local nightclub she recognized from the Gillespie Gateway. Not far from there was Flathill Ranch, a small resort consisting of cabins that was a popular vacation area. Closest to the highway was one of the older establishments on the land. The Historic Blackwolf Bay Inn, owned and operated by Dina and Bob Phillips, had been in their family for generations. 

Kassandra turned the volume down as she pulled off the highway and onto Whitehaven Avenue, snickering as she wondered why she tended to turn the radio down to drive better. But this seemed a little foreign to her now, not having been back here for years, not even to visit, and things looked quite different than she remembered. Businesses moved in and out. Offices remodeled. Shops moved to different blocks. Despite all that, it was still her same old hometown. She couldn’t believe where she was, and in just a few moments, she would in her home, here to stay… once again.

Kassandra heaved the wheel over and made a right on Main Street toward Downtown Blackwolf Bay. By the looks of it, business was booming. It was the lunch rush, and the town square was filled with people: vendors running the farmer’s market, restaurant patios littered with patrons dining and having a good time, parents with their kids at the open playground. The trolley bell rang as it drove through the Main Street and Redfield Boulevard intersection. A couple of blocks over from that main intersection was Kennedy Condos, her destination, one of the more upscale complexes in town.

Kassandra pulled over and parked along the street in front of the complex, between two lines that designated it a space for tenants. The car groaned to a stop and hissed as she turned off the engine. Taking a deep breath, Kassandra patted the dashboard with an open palm to thank her car for finishing the two-hour journey through the city, over the bridge and into the mountains, all without a hitch.

It hissed again, almost as if it sighed in relief, and relaxed into the parking spot after that trek.

One, two, three… 

Kassandra grunted, hoisting a couple of the boxes out of the trunk. It was impossible to balance them on one arm as she reached out, but she managed to slam the trunk shut. The car hissed again. Kassandra turned, bumping her hip on the edge of the car and, in all her grace, lost her balance and control of the unwieldy boxes as she tripped. 

Of course, she muttered, immediately feeling flushed with embarrassment even though there wasn’t anyone out there to see it. 

Or so, she thought.

Someone nearby cleared their throat.

Feeling heat rush to her face again, a feeling of dread pulled her shoulders down. Kassandra cursed inwardly. She debated laying there for a little longer and hoped that whoever was there would just leave her be, but something told her this would only get worse.

Hey, are you all right? It was a man with a low, raspy voice, and he was closer than she’d originally anticipated. The sound of her belongings shuffling and thudding in the cardboard made her impossibly more mortified as the witness quickly scooped her things back into the open box and placed it