Circumstantial Encounters: Balancing Reality

By Allysina Shinestone

ClairisaVinson doesn't need to worry about Blood Diamonds or murderous cult leaders anymore. It's time to focus on her school work and a potential love interest of a senior boy. Things can get back to normal now... However, normality doesn't last long.

 

Coming across a few of her dad's case files she realizes that one member of the Mad Monks is still alive and what's worse, he's in Ottawa. Informing William about this news, they prepare to locate this Mad Monk before he locates them. Only, it's not just this Mad Monk that Clairisa needs to worry about. The demonic being the monks worship has a strong attachment to her and plans to create new Blood Diamonds from what runs within her veins. Clairisa comes to a terrifying discovery, asking the question – just what is in her veins?

• Language: English
• Publisher: Broken Keys Publishing
• Release date: Jul 15, 2023
• ISBN: 9781988253657

Allysina Shinestone

Allysina Shinestone is a Canadian author. Gifted with a creative imagination, she takes personal experiences and weaves them into her stories. Author of the coming of age, paranormal fantasy series, Balancing Reality, whose female protagonist experiences the struggles of high school while coping with a bombardment of supernatural events. Balancing her two realities comes with its own unique set of challenges. Readers will recognize the local landmarks and hot-spots from Ontario, Canada.

Book preview

Chapter 1

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The sound of sirens filled the night. Glancing outside his hotel room that Cookery had acquired, for the time being, Timmons noticed at the end of the hallway a window was coated with a strange crimson glow. Moving towards the window, he glared at his scarred face in the reflection and focus on the street below. Police cars swerved through downtown Ottawa’s heavy traffic, heading towards the night sky’s flickering glow.

The hell is going on? Timmons thought out loud. He glanced down to his wristwatch as something inside him flicked a nerve of concern. Cookery should have been back by now. Leaving the window, he entered the hotel room, glancing at the widescreen television displayed on the wall. Another twinge of concern ran through him. With a sigh, he reached for the remote control and sat on the edge of the bed. He rested his head on his left hand, his right pressed the guide button on the remote and scanned the screen for the local news channel. Selecting the channel, he placed the remote control to the side after increasing the volume. Timmons sat for a while watching the weather report, itching the side of his healing face. He was reminded of the boy who entered Saint James back in Toronto and caused this scaring to his face. That fucking Brat! Timmons growled. If I ever get my hands on him, I’ll... He stopped as a breaking news screen flashed across the screen.

A male news reporter was on the scene, moving to the side as people ran by. Are we on? He clarified with the camera’s operator. Clearing his voice, he began the report. I’m standing outside Knox Presbyterian Church on the corner of Elgin and Lisgar tonight, where many have gathered to see this bright building of hope and peace now engulfed in flames.

What?! Timmons gasped as he stood from the bed, in shock. Glancing towards the direction of the window, he rushed towards it and hastily moved the curtain away. From this side of the building, he could see the church’s top lit up like a candle on a birthday cake. Damn it, Cookery! Taking out his phone from his pocket, Timmons held it to his ear, waiting for Cookery to answer. After four rings, the phone went to his voice mail. Fuck.

Many people around the crowd suspect this to be a copycat attack like the one in Toronto’s Saint James, two weeks ago. There have been a few graphic displays of dismemberment and charred corpses leaving the building as firefighters do their best to calm the inferno...

Timmons moved away from the window to watch different body bags being brought out by paramedics and firefighters. No! Not again. He shook his head as he marched to the door. Come on, David! Pick up your phone! Closing the door behind him, Timmons rushed to the elevators waiting for it to reach his floor as he hastily pushed the button to summon it. Fuck! He cursed again as the voice mail started its speech. Forcing his phone into his pocket, the doors to the elevator opened. Stepping inside, he pushed the button for the lobby. He started to pace within the small space that the elevator provided. It’s not the same. This is all just a coincidence. He has to be okay. He’s the only one who talks with our Lord. Timmons froze as the elevator make a sound indicating that they had reached the lobby.

Pushing past a group of people who were stepping into the elevator, Timmons rushed to the hotel’s front doors and followed the police cars as they drove towards the sight of the burning church. With each step brought memories back from Toronto when he was lying at home, and the call came from one of the members that the group was attacked by a fiery demonic being. It’s not the same. He chanted as he neared the sight and saw the police were pushing people away from the building. Another gathering of flames erupted from the roof. People gasped and screamed in fear, Timmons was forced back along with the crowd.

Stay back on the side of the street! An officer with a megaphone yelled out. Firetrucks are arriving. Move back!

Seeing a space between some tourists, Timmons pushed past them to make his way to the front of the group. Noticing the familiar yellow police tape that came to his waist, Timmons grabbed the thin plastic and ducked under it to approach the burning church.

Sir, you can’t be here. It’s dangerous. A female officer said sternly as she blocked his path. Timmons glared down at the woman, hoping that his appearance would be enough to make her second guess messing with him. Sir, I’m going to ask you to step back behind the caution tape.

He frowned slightly, annoyed that she wasn’t alarmed by his appearance or his height. A friend of mine is inside. He shouted over the mix of vehicles, people screaming, and the fire’s loud crackling attacking the building’s structure.

A friend? She repeated.

Yes. Timmons nodded, trying to hold back his anger. He’s the newly appointed priest of this church who just started working here a week or two ago. The look on the officer’s face indicated that she was debating whether to let him near the scene or not. Look, I need to make sure he got out.

I’ll escort you. She informed him, as she led the way to an area at the side of the church where four ambulance vehicles parked, and medics were rushing around. An officer guarding the area approached her with a confused look at Timmons. The female officer quickly explained before the male officer could say anything, He’s a friend of the priest here. He can help us identify the body.

What body? Timmons demanded.

This is breaking protocol. The officer frowned.

I know. Just let him see. She said, shaking her head. If it’s not his friend, then that means there’s still someone inside.

The male officer breathed profoundly and stood to the side, allowing them to pass. Timmons followed the female officer till they reached the medic who seemed to oversee the area. After another explanation, Timmons was finally taken to an ambulance. His heart raced with worry that the body they were going to show him was Cookery’s or not. He held his breath as the medic pulled the black cover back, revealing the charred body’s top portion. Timmons squinted as the remains were hard to distinguish.

Is this your friend? The medic asked.

If you’d give me a moment. Timmons snapped. He neared the face, or what remained of the face when a thought came to him. My friend would have a special tooth filling. He stepped back as the medic and the assistant forced the clenched jaw open. Within the station’s light for the physicians, Timmons noticed the glimmer of a small red diamond belonging to David Cookery. Looking away, he nodded as his worst thought was real. That’s him. With a nod, the medic covered up the remains and hulled it into the vehicle.

I’m sorry for your loss. The female officer said. We will need to get information from you about his next of kin.

He doesn’t have any. Timmons answered simply.

Oh, I see. Any other relation that we would need to get in touch with, concerning his remains?

Just me. Timmons realized as his hand brushed back his dirty hair. Fuck.

I understand. Here is my card. She said, placing the square card into his hand. He looked at it blankly. I’ll just take down your name and contact number to reach you as we might need to call you in for questioning.

You think I’m a suspect? He laughed.

No, just to question your friend’s movements. She said, slightly taken aback by his harsh tone. It could help us figure out who started the arson.

Right, right. He said, nodding.

You best get some rest. She said softly. Do you have someone you can be with during this hard time?

No, just me. He said, turning to leave the area. Timmons looked back at the ambulance that David Cookery’s body was in, contemplating going back and asking for the small gem in his tooth but thought against it. It would make him look suspicious. It’s not even an actual Blood Diamond. He told himself as he was directed under the caution tape.

Walking through the crowd, he noticed the glint in a few of the reporter’s eyes as he neared them. Wanting to avoid them, he joined a group walking by and blended in easily with them. Once he reached the sidewalk outside his hotel, he took out a pack of smokes and lit one up. Glancing up at the bright sign of the hotel, he shook his head. Looks like I’ll need to find a new place since you’re not paying the bills anymore, Cookery. Breathing in deeply, letting the cigarette’s chemicals fill his system, he glanced at the lobby’s front doors as a young girl was leaving. The girl seemed to be in her teens, and her right arm was bandaged. He watched her walk away from the hotel and turn down a street corner. Shrugging his shoulders, he flicked his cigarette onto the street and headed back up to his room.

Standing in the elevator, his mind raced with the idea that he was the only member of the group left. The leader, David Cookery, was the only one who could speak with the divine entity they worshiped. No more increased cash flow or luck coming my way. He sighed. As the doors opened and he stepped out, Timmons noticed a heavy feeling around him. Looking around the hallway, he wondered if the lights were always flickering like that or if it was just the night’s events getting to him. Shaking his head, he slowly reached his door and opened it with the key card. Twisting the handle and pushing the door, a sudden blast of cold air hit him.

Did I leave the AC on? He wondered as he entered the room and felt a shiver run up his spine. He watched as the hairs on his skin stood up. Looking around the room, he squinted as the lights and TV were now turned off. Glancing over his shoulder to see that the hallway’s lights were still flickering, he wondered if the building was having a power surge. Placing his hand against the wall, he felt the raised plastic switch and flicked it up and down to see if the room’s lights would turn on. Five-star hotel, my ass. He commented angrily. The door that he held open pulled forcefully from his grip and closed behind him. However, he didn’t hear the usual slamming of it. Turning to look at the door, he blinked and backed away as the door had vanished within the room’s darkness. The fuck is this?

Jake Timmons... He turned around to face whoever spoke his name. Another shiver ran through him as he had heard the familiar voice during a ritual or two of the entity they worshiped speaking through Cookery. His hand, still on the light switch panel, suddenly felt cold as it went through the wall. Glancing at his missing hand, he pulled it back and wiggled his fingers to make sure they were undamaged.

Who are you? Timmons demanded as he glared around the room.

The one you worship. The voice replied faintly.

Timmons blinked in surprise. Only Cookery could hear you.

He is dead. The voice said simply. You, Jake, are the last one of my faithful followers. The room grew darker as Timmons noticed that it was becoming hard to breathe. You think being a follower gave you perks... He couldn’t see but felt that the being was smiling as he stated this fact to him. Then consider what would happen as you become the new messenger for my words. Timmons noticed his shadow on the dark floor, wondering where the light to produce this effect could be coming from. He gasped as suddenly the shadow rose from the floor and sprang out at him. Backing into the wall, he felt the essence of his shadow forcing itself into his own body. His eyes widened in fear as gray smoke circled around him and the shadow. Just like a rope, it tightened around them both, forcing the shadow further into his body.

Why are you resisting? The voice coaxed as something bit into Timmons’ throat. He struggled against the shadow, and whatever had his neck. Once the pain in his neck subsided, he felt hot liquid flowing through his veins. He squeezed his eyes tight as the shadow forcefully pushed against his shoulders. Don’t you want to serve me?

Ahhh!

Maybe you’ll see reason when I tell you that you will have your revenge on the kid who scarred your face.

Timmons opened his eyes, wondering when his vision became smoky. The kid?

Yes. The voice said soothingly. The boy who stole my Blood Diamonds and attacked your face. Leaving you hideous. The shadow effortlessly merged with his body at the idea of seeing the kid’s lifeless body at his feet. There was a chuckle of satisfaction echoing around the room. There. That wasn’t so bad.

And the boy? Timmons asked.

Well, I foresee you getting your revenge. But right now, there was a girl who you witnessed leaving this hotel. Timmons thought for a minute to when he was outside and noticed the teenager. Yes, her. She is helping the boy.

She is?

Yes. You might still be able to catch her before the taxi arrives, but don’t get too close as I’m still weak.

Timmons nodded his head understanding his master’s command. He turned to reach for the doorknob as the room and furniture returned to his vision. Opening the door, he noticed the hallway lights had stopped flickering. Hearing the door slam behind him, Timmons passed by the lights heading to the elevator. With each step he took the lights shattered, making the hallway dark. Pushing the elevator button, Timmons looked at his reflection in the doors’ gray metal. His one good eye was clouded, similar to his injured eye, but the corners produced a thin wisp of black smoke. The same smoke weaved along the healing scars on the side of his face.

What do you need to grow your strength? He asked with concern for his weakening Lord.

More reliable members for a start. The voice said as Timmons entered the elevator. As well as that girl.

Your word will be done, my Lord.

Chapter 2

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Clairisa Vinson was filled with excitement while she sat on the grass with her friends Melanie Avalon and William Weaver. The class was told that today was the day that Mr. Anderson would do the rocket launch. It was a sunny day with a gentle breeze that made Clair’s long hair fly around her face. Reaching into her purse, she pulled out a thick hair elastic and attempted to put her hair up. Feeling a painful twinge run up her dominant right hand, she sighed with defeat. Glaring down at her bandaged arm held up in a sling, she frowned as the thought of it healing seemed like it would take years. Her mom changed the bandages that morning and was glad that the gashes from both the snake bite and the small knife were closing well. However, the bruising was a dark colour, and the slightest movement or touch to it would send a surge of pain up her arm.

Looking towards Melanie, as she and William were arguing about whatever current conversational topic they were having, Clair sighed with defeat and asked Melanie to put up her hair.

Of course, Melanie said gladly. Like mother like daughter, Melanie loved doing different hairstyles to Clair’s long, thick brown hair. A ponytail, a braid, or a bun?

A braid would be fine, Clair said with a small smile. Thanks.

No problem. I got you. Melanie said as she moved to sit behind her and started to brush her hair. Arm still bothering you? she asked.

Yes.

When can you take off the bandages? William asked.

Mom said when the cuts are fully healed. Clair nodded and shivered as Melanie set to work, separating her hair into three thick strands of gathered hair.

Are you excited about the convention and Night Bite coming? Melanie asked with a little bounce.

You bet. I already asked mom to give me more chores to do around the house to make some extra money. I might even ask Sherry if there are chores she wants done. Clair said. She remembered from past conventions that autographs and photos cost a lot of money. Then there was the merchandise of different booths. Too bad my birthday’s in April.

Yeah, birthday money is the best. Melanie agreed.

My birthday is coming up, William said proudly. The girls turned to look at him. Things aren’t planned, but I would like it if you two come.

Okay, Melanie said with a sigh, as she started to interwind the strands of hair.

Sure. Just tell us when and where. Clair said with a smile and then laughed as she pointed to Mr. Anderson. I love the aviator hat that Mr. Anderson is wearing.

It’s a bit small, Melanie said with a frown.

I think it might be for a child. Clair agreed.

Done, Melanie said as she wrapped the elastic around the end. Good?

This is great. Clair said as she ran her fingers down the loose braid. Thanks. My hair will now stay out of my face.

Nothing to it... Oh my god, here they come! Melanie said, pointing towards the school where a group of older students exited and headed towards them.

Who are they? William asked.

James leaned towards William and the girls with a grin. My brother told me that they have a field trip in the afternoon, during their science class, so Anderson invited them to come during morning classes to watch the launch.

Really? Melanie asked. Oh, there is your Brother. She waved with a slight giggle. James’ brother smiled and waved back. He’s so tall.

He also has a girlfriend. James said with a knowing look to Melanie.

Kill joy.

James laughed and lay on the ground. Wake me when Anderson does something.

That’s who you go for? William asked with a huff.

There is nothing wrong with looking. Melanie glared back at William. The community dance is coming up this week, and it would be nice to slow dance with a tall, handsome man.

Clair nodded to this idea of having a night filled with dancing and romance. Things have been so chaotic during the first few weeks of school with the Mad Monks, Cookery, and the Blood Diamonds.

I’m available. William said softly.

Melanie and Clair looked back at him with surprise, but it was Melanie who answered. You? Yeah, Sure. William frowned at the response and muttered something silently under his breath as he lay on the grass like James, closing his eyes. Melanie leaned closer to Clair and whispered, He’s been doing that often.

Doing what?

One minute, we’re arguing and then the next moment he’s sweet and heartful. Melanie shook her head. I just don’t understand. He’s confusing.

Well, do you have feelings for William? Clair whispered.

I don’t know. Melanie said with a small blush. Maybe, or maybe I’m hoping to fill the hole that Adrien made.

Clair bit her lip and nodded in understanding. During the summer, Melanie had a fling with a guy named Adrien. He was tall, blond, and always wearing an open dress shirt that revealed his four-pack of abs. However, one day when they all went to a beach party, Melanie came crying to Clair as she witnessed Adrien in the arms of another girl and kissing her. She was heartbroken for weeks after that party. Adrien tried to contact her multiple times to explain, she told him off in the strongest of curses and swears Clair had ever heard come from her mouth. Not to mention that Kyler had taken a few good swings with her fists at him to help get the point across.

Glancing to William, Clair’s mind wondered towards the idea of Melanie and William becoming a couple. They would be a good couple, minus the constant arguments they always had. An intrusive thought entered her mind next, asking if she should tell Melanie about the events that had been happening during the first few weeks of school. Clair didn’t know how Melanie would handle the conversation of Mad Monks and Blood Diamonds, forest witches, and near-death situations. Melanie could barely handle some episodes of Night Bite. When Clair would tell her about the small paranormal occurrences around her, Melanie would be obviously shaken and unable to comment. Clair shook her head as the idea of telling Melanie came back to her. Those events were over, now that the diamonds were both sealed and destroyed by Knox. Things would go back to normal. A smile came onto her face, Give William a chance. Invite him to the dance.

I guess. Melanie said with a frown of confusion.

Or we can keep looking over the selection of grade 12’s. Clair suggested. Even just for fun. This brought a smile to Melanie’s face, which made Clair glad.

Your right. Let’s browse. She turned her head to scan the group of grade 12’s that sat down in their individual clicks. Oh, what about that one there. Melanie said, trying hard not to point and make it evident that they talked about the guys in the other group. The one in the black t-shirt and ripped jeans.

Clair tilted her head in consideration. The guy looked a bit rough around the edges, like a rebel. He’s nice-looking. She said with a smile. I like his long thick hair.

That is nice. Melanie agreed. Too bad it’s hidden under the bandana. She sighed. Look at how broad his shoulders are.

He must play a lot of sports. Clair guessed.

Or works out. Melanie said with a sigh. Can you imagine him at the gym?

Can I ever. Clair said, staring at him as her imagination kicked into fantasy daydream mode. She pictured herself walking out from a cardio dance class and walking by the weightlifting machines. She stood watching his back as he completed the reps, but his shirt tore, falling to the floor.