Tree of Death

By Madi Quinn

Caitlyn Grove was a mostly-normal girl growing up in Southtown, Indiana. She had a good life, going to college, living with her boyfriend, and learning Krav Maga from her father. However, the growing Darkness that infests the sleepy Indiana town infects and infests everyone that it touches, and no one is

• Language: English
• Publisher: Indy Pub
• Release date: Jun 19, 2023
• ISBN: 9781088154762

Madi Quinn

A lifelong resident of northern Indiana, Madi Quinn began her writing journey at the age of seven, writing a short book called "The Whatchamacallit". Madi's work is a little more adult these days, weaving horror and erotic tales to terrify and titillate. She began her literary universe with the book "Allison's Game" and continues today with such releases as "Naked". Madi is also a staff writer for Double Feature magazine, a publication she both enjoys reading and contributing to.

Book preview

Tree of Death

A Caitlyn Grove Story

Madi Quinn

The House of Everlong

Copyright © 2020 The House of Everlong

All rights reserved

The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

No part of this book may be reproduced, or stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without express written permission of the publisher.

ISBN-13: 9781234567890

ISBN-10: 1477123456

Cover design by: Art Painter

Library of Congress Control Number: 2018675309

Printed in the United States of America

This story is dedicated the memory of Justice Ruth Bader Ginsburg.

Madi Quinn

Contents

Title Page

Copyright

Dedication

One

Two

Three

Four

Five

Six

Seven

Eight

Now

About The Author

Books By This Author

One

​"And thus, we come to the lowest of the sefirot, the sefira of Malkuth, that which is of the material world, the furthest from the Most High.  It is here that we find what you see around you, the trappings of matter, that which is created.  With that, we conclude our introduction to the ten sefirot.  Are there any questions?"

​Rabbi Baruch Kaufmann looked around at the classroom.  It was a typical crowd for his Introduction to Qabalah class: wannabe occultists, rebellious young Satanists, yoga moms, old hippies, and more.  Not even one of them seemed to register the slightest light of comprehension.  It always seemed to be this way when he taught this class.  Rabbi Kaufmann wasn't sure what they were looking for when they signed up for the class at the community center; surely, they didn't think that a mere rabbi from Indiana held the key to limitless cosmic power.  Even if he did, why in the name of G-d would he teach it at the Southtown Community Center at a free class?  No, dominion over the universe was safely in the hands of the Most High, but perhaps if these people could open their minds just slightly, the rabbi mused, they could understand His works just a little better, couldn't they?

​In the back of the room, a red-haired girl sat next to a tall, ebony-skinned young man.  The girl stared at the chalkboard incredulously, shaking her head almost imperceptibly.  The young man laughed quietly, his eyes poking gentle fun at the girl, but receiving little more than daggers dipped in ricin back from her.

​I don't get this, Caitlyn Grove whispered to her companion, trying hard to mask her frustration.

​Most people don't the first time, the young man replied, as quietly as he could, while trying to repress a chuckle.  It is the blueprint of the universe, after all.

​Well, since we have no questions, Rabbi Kaufmann interjected, "and since Miss Grove and Mister Jamal have taken it upon themselves to begin open discussion already, I believe we'll dismiss for tonight.  Thanks for coming out, and shalom to you all."  He turned his head playfully to the two young people, his curled side locks following shortly thereafter, and flashed a knowing smile.

​Caitlyn, intensely embarrassed, turned nearly as red as her hair, which was a bright fire red.  Her companion, no longer needed to observer relative quiet, burst into hearty laughter, bellowing loudly enough to echo throughout the classroom.

​Darn it, Ben, don't do that to me!  Caitlyn lashed out with her notebook, striking Ben on the head.  The blow wasn't strong enough to do any damage, but it was enough to stop his laughter for a moment.  It's bad enough that I agreed to go with you to this...  Caitlyn's voice trailed off momentarily as she looked around cautiously, as if to check if anyone was listening.  ...shit, but I didn't come to be made fun of!

​Ben sat in silence, as if stunned.  "Eebbe ha i ilaaliyo, he muttered under his breath.  You're actually still afraid to curse, as if your father is watching you."

​Caitlyn's color turned that of a beet, and her gaze shot immediately to the floor.  No, I'm not.  It's just...I don't want to talk about it, Ben.

​Ben's jaw set angrily, but it relaxed quickly.  I know.  I don't want to dig into things you don't want to talk about, but this keeps coming up, Cait.  We keep running into this same wall.

​Can we just go?  Caitlyn stood up, and made for the classroom door, grabbing her notebook and phone as she rose.  I'm tired and really over the idea of everyone hearing all about my business.

​Yeah, fine.  Ben grabbed his phone as well, and the two walked out of the community center and into the cool night.  It was unseasonably cool for late August here in northern Indiana, and the leaves had started to turn just a little early.  Normally this wouldn't even really be noticed, but after the events of the last few years, the people of Southtown had become intensely superstitious, and highly fearful.  Everyone in Southtown, including Caitlyn Grove and Ben Jamal, were constantly vigilant when going outside at night.  No one ever traveled alone at night.  No one.  Not after what had happened to the Ashtons.  Caitlyn remembered looking over the case files her father had studied one night; the horrors that authorities had found in that house had been indescribable.  To think that a father, a cop, could have done such things, even after the murder of his daughter, it was horrific in the extreme.  She'd been scarred by what she'd seen, and it took months of therapy