The Book Of Zero: I

By M. G. Huntsmen

We can find ourselves asking, “Why do horrible things happen to good people?”. Within Zero’s story that very question begins to unfold. Zero has lived her life in sexual extortion and as she nears her eighteenth birthday, learns she will be sold to the rich and powerful tycoon, Linnard Yohana. Zero, choosing to stay alive for Ethan Benji, the boy next door, discovers a dark and powerful truth that will alter all of creation. From facing physically violent bullies at school to being bound by chains in her basement, Zero embarks on her own journey of becoming the most powerful being under God. She must choose between the offer of a life with the boy she loves from the Dark Angel Kain, Suicide, or an eternal existence as the true angel of darkness leaving behind all she knows. There will be wolves, wendigos, dragons and ultimate sacrifice in this first part of the epic journey that is The Book of Zero.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Archway Publishing
• Release date: Dec 20, 2023
• ISBN: 9781665745239

M. G. Huntsmen

M. G. Huntsmen has always had a deep fascination with fantasy stories. She often daydreams about dragons, angels, and epic battles for glory and God. These ideas are fueled by her love for the mountains where she grew up. As an adult, she has studied psychology and biology to grow her understanding of the world. Fantasy writing is her way of taking the hard truths of life and re-piecing them into stories that better our knowledge of human existence.

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Copyright © 2023 M. G. Huntsmen.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced by any means, graphic, electronic, or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, taping or by any information storage retrieval system without the written permission of the author except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

This is a work of fiction. All of the characters, names, incidents, organizations, and dialogue in this novel are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously.

Archway Publishing

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Because of the dynamic nature of the Internet, any web addresses or links contained in this book may have changed since publication and may no longer be valid. The views expressed in this work are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of the publisher, and the publisher hereby disclaims any responsibility for them.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

ISBN: 978-1-6657-4524-6 (sc)

ISBN: 978-1-6657-4522-2 (hc)

ISBN: 978-1-6657-4523-9 (e)

Library of Congress Control Number: 2023911035

Archway Publishing rev. date: 02/06/2024

For:

Robert & Utah,

My Best Friends.

Semper Fortis, Semper Fidelis.

CONTENTS

Silence

Chapter 1 Wolves

Chapter 2 Core Trail

Chapter 3 The Homes on Honey Street

Chapter 4 The Mendel Effect

Chapter 5 Into Dust

Chapter 6 Eyes

Chapter 7 Devil in The Tall Grass

Chapter 8 Homecoming King

Chapter 9 Shadow

Chapter 10 Murder Games

Whisper

Chapter 11 Born in Flames

Chapter 12 Goodnight

Chapter 13 Runaway Nightmare

Chapter 14 Syracuse

Chapter 15 The Lesser God

Chapter 16 Candlelight

Chapter 17 The Glow of Dawn

Chapter 18 They Will Worship You

Speak

Chapter 19 Dumb

Chapter 20 Rotten Flowers

Chapter 21 In-Human

Chapter 22 Isabell

Chapter 23 Snow

Chapter 24 Purple Eyes

Chapter 25 Hazeeka

Scream

Chapter 26 The Hunted

Chapter 27 Dysphoria

Chapter 28 Cali The Pig Nose

Chapter 29 Christmas Lights

Chapter 30 Suicide

Chapter 31 Thunder

Chapter 32 The Sound of Silence

Silence

CHAPTER 1

Wolves

Hundreds of students swelled the halls as they moved in every direction toward their next class. Some were so zoned-out that drool had begun to leak out of their limp lips. Eyes nearly shut as they became lost in blank minds. All of them bumped into one another, like logs down a rapid. They were three-PM zombies, waiting to be freed from Stone Gate High School. Un-alive, consumed by boredom and repetitive days.

With the hood of my jacket pulled up to shield my face, I tried to avoid eye contact. I watched their feet step by. I tried to avoid the almost inevitable bump. My stomach was in a tight knot from the thought of unwanted physical contact with my peers. Every step I took was calculated, like a matador avoiding the horns of a bull.

My next class was only down the hall, around the corner. It might as well have been across town as the hallway gridlock built up. It was always caused by students standing in the center of the walkways, talking. This meant the rest of us would have to squeeze together and force our way around.

A large, pungent body bumped into me, and I was pushed into the girl who walked alongside me. She had been talking on her phone. I felt her give me a hateful glare. It burned through my hood, into my neck. Then in aggravation, she spoke into the phone, I’m so ready to be out of here. The weird girl touched me... No, the one with the black jacket.

I wanted to glance back at her from the corner of my eye. I chose to keep my head down. I didn’t want to create conflict. It was obvious that her words were only meant to attack me. She didn’t care and I could still feel the disgust she had for me. It hung in her center, as it had with most of the people in my life.

This was nothing new. Most of my peers despised me. I was a runt, a hate child of God. I didn’t fit the definition of normal to them. In terms of biology, I was the group member meant to be picked off by the wolves. Sick, small, weak.

As I walked past the bathrooms, there was a strong tug on my backpack, and suddenly, I plummeted ass first into the linoleum. The impact shook my body and rattled the air in my lungs. Sharp pains shot up my back and forced my head to jerk, jarring the bones in my neck.

Students quickly moved away from me. Only a few looked down and watched, but they then sought to create distance. I never wondered why they didn’t help, it was obvious. I kept them safe from the wolves. Because of me they were safe.

Fighting through the pain, I forced myself up and tried to get away, refusing to look behind me. Then, wrapping her hands around my shoulders she shoved me through the hinged bathroom door where I stumbled over my feet. Again, I crashed onto the linoleum and slid before coming to a sloppy stop, sprawled out on the chilled floor. She entered the room. The door squeaked and cracked as it closed. I crawled as best as I could toward the painted cinder block wall before she got a hold of me.

Grabbing a tight fist full of my hair, she picked my small body off the floor. Another fist grabbed the back of my faded black jeans. Now, I was suspended like a marionette.

With a boorish grunt, she threw me into the wall. My face took most of the impact. A loud crack echoed in my ears from somewhere on my face. I rolled around and curled myself into a ball not wanting to face her.

Standing nearly six feet tall, Marybeth looked down at me with her puppy-dog brown eyes flickering around without a thought. She began to chew on her nails.

Marybeth was the school’s running rugby prodigy. What she severely lacked in brains she made up for in strength. Her legs were like tree trunks, sturdy, always covered by the same volleyball style shorts. Her hands lacked femininity, but she was attractive in the face. Soft lips, well maintained skin and freckled cheeks.

She jumped away from the door as the echo of heels approached. My stomach dropped, and I believed Marybeth’s did too. The door creaked as Cali entered the stagnant bathroom. I hid my face under my arms, peeking only at her heels as she walked by to the vanity.

Cali calmly stood at the mirror, touching up her mascara. She wore open toe heels, too tight of jeans, and a loose cropped shirt that exposed the top of tanned breasts. Her face was awfully round, always painted with expensive makeup. Her full, shiny blonde hair was pulled into a high knot with wispy strands dancing around her face. She was almost perfect except for her nose. It was too wide, pointed too far up.

Skulking behind was Alice. She wasn’t much of a bully, more of a stray mutt. Alice only ran with Cali because she knew where to find the best stuff… Drugs. She was skinny, her thin blond hair tucked under a yarn beanie. One hard puff of wind and she’d fold like a house of cards.

The silence was broken as Cali spoke, her nostrils flared with each word. Why is she looking at me?

Marybeth, who still looked down at me chewing on the little nail she had left to chew paused and glanced at Cali. Then looking back down at me, dropped her hand from her mouth, letting out a slight sigh. She reached down to pull me up by the hood of my weathered black fleece jacket.

I braced for impact as she dropped me, sending her knee into my stomach with enough force that vomit poured out of my mouth and nose. All the air in my lungs escaped, and I was left on the floor, choking, fighting uncontrollable spasms that rocketed through my entire body. I jerked like a seizure victim.

Ew! Alice squealed, hopping away and holding her nose.

She puked on my shoes!

Cali snapped her makeup container shut, turning to the three of us. Then wash them off.

Sorry... Marybeth muttered, fingers in her mouth. Her eyes studied the mess—and my face—which lay in the puddle of day-old leftovers.

Alice squeezed by to the sinks, then unlaced her waterlogged shoes. Water was about the only thing in my stomach, so the vomit wasn’t as nasty as it could have been.

Leave. Cali ordered. The girls looked at one another, then back at her, confused.

Alice started to reply, But my shoes!

I don’t care, get out. They obeyed their alpha and began to turn away.

Alice stepped by, holding her nose in disgust as she rushed past Marybeth. Marybeth looked at me a moment longer, seeming unsure what to think, then turned away. Her puffy ponytail bounced against her jersey as she stomped out to the hallway.

Three years ago, Marybeth became Cali’s brute when some of Cali’s prey began to fight back. She had been tormented by Cali since middle school and chose to follow her rather than continue to be her bitch. I felt pity for her. She was only trying to survive this place.

Cali got away with the things she did because her father was the lead chairman on the board of Colorado Education. Regardless of her father’s status, everyone genuinely feared her, including teachers. If anyone got in her way, they ended up a reject or simply a product of the bathroom hazing rituals.

With Marybeth under her, Cali never had to truly get her hands dirty.

I don’t remember when Cali started to bully me. I also don’t remember a time when she hadn’t. I do remember the first time she hit me was in the fourth grade. I was an easy target because no one cared about me. Nobody wanted to step between us because I wasn’t worth the trouble.

Cali placed her things into her bag and walked up to me. She bent down so we could make eye contact. Her eyes were a rich blue, as deep as the ocean, reaching into a black center.

You make this too easy. She smirked and began to pet my hair. You better stay out of my way this year.

What does she mean?

She stood, moving a piece of hair from her face, and walked to the door. She placed her hand on the wood but paused to say something before walking out to the hall. One last thing before I would be attacked again.

Let’s have a good year Zero. She walked out into the hallway where the bell for class began to toll. I didn’t move until the echoes from her heels were far away.

I peeled myself off the floor and washed my throbbing face off. I held onto the counter tightly, waiting for the vertigo to subside before looking at myself.

My pale face was framed by my long, unbrushed black hair. My eyes were bloodshot as they looked into my own soul that was also black, nested behind green eyes.

I pulled my hood up to cast a shadow over them. I didn’t want anyone to look into them. I didn’t want anyone to see the darkness.

I left the bathroom, entering the empty hall. The door thudded shut, echoing off the lockers. The sign on the back rattled. It read simply in bold,

‘BULLYING WILL NOT BE TOLERATED’

I didn’t fear them. Those girls were only pretending to be wolves. I know the real evil of the world. If the wolves had ever encountered those three, they would have torn them apart like the little girls we are.

CHAPTER 2

Core Trail

I stood in front of the classroom door, mentally preparing for Ms. Ren to melt down on me for being late. There was no getting away with tardiness since only a handful of students were inside. Not many high schoolers took Intro to Physics. The class was sponsored by the local college meant to help the gifted young minds of Stone Gate High School. Even though it was taught by an egotistical, graduate student, idiot, who had no self-awareness, Ms. Ren.

I placed my hand on the knob and twisted but the door was locked. Classrooms were usually locked while occupied. All because of the commonality of mass shootings that have happened around the country. It’s a national crisis that doesn’t seem to have an end. The brilliant solution so far? Locking doors and practicing duck and cover. They’ve banned all guns, they have placed security guards throughout all schools, yet they still happen.

I tapped on the glass window of the door barely peeking from under my hood. Ms. Ren peered over from her place leaning on a desk. She stood, rolling her dusty blue eyes, shaking her head. Approaching the door, her four-inch wedge sandals knocked against the floor. Her dress, like the sandals, violated the school’s dress code. It hugged tight to an unshapely thin body and just barely covered her kneecaps.

Rapidly undoing the lock and shoving the door open, she paused to bathe me in an unamused look. I tucked my chin closer to my chest, trying to become as small as possible, I hoped she wouldn’t make a nasty comment. I wanted to stop her from looking at me by plucking an eye out, but I wasn’t that bold. I just stood there not breathing, waiting, my hands felt weak and shaky.

Ms. Aftermath, it’s the fourth time in two weeks. Care to explain?

My nose twitched as I continued to look down at the carpet. Ms. Ren had always gotten on my nerves. She was catty, it made her seem dim in every aspect. I wasn’t sure why she taught here, she got the math wrong and she was lazy. Class time was typically spent divulging in gossiping with students than teaching. She often picked on me or any other students in the room labeled as odd. Also, there was the fascination with our rugby coach, it was often asked if he would be at certain school events.

I looked up at her. My face had become swollen from hitting the wall. My teeth throbbed, clicking together inside my head while my eye had begun collecting crust from watering. My hands still shook with anxiety as I waited for her to let me pass.

Just sit, the bitch growled. Stepping aside to let me pass. I scurried to my desk in the far back corner of the room. No one sat next to me, which I preferred.

She began to lecture again. I laid my head on the desk to stare out the window at the hazy gray mountains. I’ve always loved the mountains; they were so powerful. They were constant, never changing, always there.

One hundred and eighteen years ago, they were partly destroyed due to a war. A powerful bomb was dropped near their center. That bomb ended the war, but now we’re… people are not allowed to cross the fence that runs along the edge of the foothills. The school’s parking lot ran right up to the fence. A short strip of manicured grass was all that separated them.

I’ve always wondered what was back there, amongst the cliffs and peaks. Sure, a lot of people have gotten past the fence, but none have come back alive. It’s dangerous. Most of the war’s debris was dropped in that area. Of course, radiation from the bomb was enough to keep the general population away.

I’ve read books about how the monsters of the war came from the Rockies. But no one had confirmed that. It was better for everyone if it wasn’t discussed.

The war was often denied just like the holocaust had been. Of course, it all happened. Millions of people don’t get massacred and suddenly history is expected to forget about it. Governments don’t like to disclose things that make them look untrustworthy. At least, that’s what my history teacher claimed. The war changed humanity, it made it worse. We are divided and we hate one another.

Watching the clouds roll over the peaks, I couldn’t help but feel like they are calling me… the mountains. Somehow, I feel like it’s where I’m supposed to be, in the wilderness, alone, not here on the Denver side.

God Dammit, Zero! Ms. Ren’s voice cut through my thoughts like a blade pressed into raw fat.

I turned to look at her. She was standing about four feet from me with her skinny arms crossed. I laid my head back down and ignored her.

I’m not in the mood for this.

No. That’s it. I’m not doing this with you right now! Go wait in the hall. I want to have a talk after class.

I guess leaving early is leaving early.

I really wish she would leave me alone.

Every teacher seems to be perfectly capable of it, except her.

I stood up and flung my pack over my shoulder, which was becoming soar. She opened the door for me.

As I walked past the other students, I caught one of the boys whispering. I heard she puked on Alice’s shoes.

The sun beat down on me as I walked on the dirt path. The early September heat was boiling me like a frog under my fleece jacket.

I paused at my usual rest spot, under some oaks by a small creek that spilled out from the mountains. It was about twenty yards off the dirt trail.

I walked the trail every school day for two miles each direction. It was the highlight of my day, besides band class.

The trail ran along the fence, and I could get an unobstructed view of the aspen trees that started just before the hills. The forest was man made. The trees all sat in neat rows, but nonetheless, they were beautiful. Saplings slowly grew in the spaces. Within the next ten or so years, it’ll be hard to tell that the forest was put there by people.

Aspens weren’t common in the city. Their white ashy bark eventually turns black as people constantly bump, scratch, and scuff them.

I dropped my bag onto the dirt, next to a tree root, and unzipped my hoodie. The cool Colorado air kissed the fresh cuts and bruises decorating my arms. My body was warped and broken. Mostly by my own doing. Beating the shit out of myself justifies the real pain that screams inside my skull. No pain anyone else inflicted on me compared to what I did to myself. Each cut and bruise reflected the invisible pain inside and helped me grasp my own reality.

I am nothing but a bloody mush that no one will ever notice because of a black coat that covers me… silence. Poetic. Very Self loathing.

The wind picked up and blew my long black hair, making it dance like fire. I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, letting the air fill my gurgling lungs. I felt my ribs crack and pop in unnatural ways. My spine tensed up, stopping my inhalation. I let the air leak out slowly, helping my muscles relax. My lower right rib fought against the movement and creaked. I inhaled and exhaled as quickly as I could, trying to persuade the rib to return to its correct spot. It didn’t budge until I flexed my back and forced it to pop.

It snapped back with such force my chest contracted, and the spit that collected in my mouth poured out over my chin. I winced and slightly moaned as compensation to the intense discomfort.

Marybeth had hit me much harder than I originally thought. My solar plexus ached. I could feel her knee still halfway into my abdomen. My hand rubbed my sternum and upper belly, hoping to calm the pain and encourage my body to finish the rest of the walk home. I just wanted plenty of time to shower before Father got home.

My bag always felt heavier as the day went along. My fatigued arm struggled to heave the bag up off the dirt. As soon as I dropped the strap onto my shoulder, it pulled me off my two feet and toward one of the trees.

I managed to stop the fall with my face against the scratchy bark. The same side that hit the bathroom wall. All I could do was lean there for a few seconds and find the bearings to pull the other strap up on my right side.

My right hand flapped around to find the other strap dangling off the bag. I snatched it up and pulled hard to bring it to the other shoulder. It supplied enough counterweight to send me back up right on my feet.

I might be a hundred pounds soaking wet. My bag was easily fifteen percent of my weight. It took a lot out of me most days to lug it around. I didn’t use my locker at school because it opened me up for more attacks and involved me getting around the neighbors who were usually making out. I sometimes imagined slamming their heads in the door to stop the obsessive amount of spit swap. Partly because I felt a sense of longing to be kissed.

Once I got back to the trail, the wind pushed harder, and my hair was blown in all different directions. I had to pause and shove my hair in my hood when the smell became overpowering. As if it were clawing the insides of my nostrils, the scent of lilacs engulfed me.

I scanned the area for its source. The only flowers near the trail were dandelions and a few columbines. No lilacs. I turned to the fence to see if they lay beyond. There was nothing but tall grass that softly sloped down a slight hill. Then the abandoned highway, before the steep incline of the foothills where the trees started.

Everything was the same as it had been, except the figure standing in the field far ahead of me, past the fence, where the old asphalt lay under tall grass. I stared at it for a second, trying to make out a face or natural features. The all-black figure did not move. It had to be a figment of my imagination…maybe an animal or a trash bag that was stuck in a bush. It seemed to be covered in cloth that flapped in the wind.

No one is allowed across the fence…. Who is that? Who is staring at me?

It was turned to me, and I could feel its eyes admiring my face. The figure and I stood still, staring at one another for a foggy moment. It felt like a dream.

With a soft turn of its head, it looked back at the mountains, specifically a ridge line that loomed