The Portal

By Skye Ballantyne

As a child, Hunter's world was torn apart by Flara and her men. With his world flung into chaos and his family torn apart, Hunter vows to himself that he will make Flara pay for what she has done.

Years later, Hunter has made himself into his village's

• Language: English
• Publisher: NA
• Release date: Mar 5, 2020
• ISBN: 9798869334015

Book preview

Chapter 1

The sun’s warm rays hit Saralee’s skin as her footsteps created a rhythmic pattern against the dirt path. A gentle breeze wicked away any sweat that formed on her skin as she ran. She had a mile down, only two more to go. Today was an easy day. Slow and steady.

She nodded her head politely at the other runners on the path. There weren’t many, and they never stopped to talk, but after seeing them everyday for the better part of four years, Saralee felt as if she knew them. That brief head nod as they passed each other made a better connection than she had with some of the kids from her school.

She ran the loop back to her house. Her stomach was beginning to eat away at her, reminding her that she hadn’t eaten since dinner the night before. As quickly as she could, she fried up some eggs and made some bread for toast, snacking on bits and pieces as she waited for the entirety of the meal to be done. With her hunger satisfied, she began her sit-up and resistance training program.

Hot and sweaty after her early morning workout, Saralee quickly showered before hitting the batting cages in order to get in some extra practice. She focused on the ‘thwacking’ sound that the ball made when the bat hit it, focused on the ball, her breathing. She became one with the game, to the point that she didn’t even notice the man in the distance, staring at her intently. She was completely oblivious to the danger she was in.

She allowed herself the rest of the afternoon to rest before she headed out for her late afternoon run. She had timed her exercise so perfectly that she could go on her run and be home just as her father was coming home. Together they would fill the house with tantalizing smells as they made dinner together and waited for her mother to come home so they could eat as a family.

She slipped out the door and ran toward the running trail, just minutes away from her house. The five mile loop ran by a stream that gurgled happily for most of the year, only freezing over during the worst part of the winter, and the tree lined path made it the perfect temperature to run in, even in the heat of the day.

Occasionally, Saralee allowed for enough time for her to do an extra loop or allow herself a break so she could collapse onto the grass and allow her mind to wander. It was peaceful, and she liked the images that came to her mind as she sat there.

Dreams of another world filled her mind. A world that was so different from her own. It was quieter. Happier. More peaceful. It was a world without all the gadgets and gizmos. It almost seemed primitive from the world she lived in. While it was just a dream, it seemed to be more real to her than the one she lived in.

As of late she had been scheduling more and more time in her imaginary world. She longed for it to be a reality, and wanted to spend as much time as she could in it. Today, however, was not going to be one of those days.

Saralee focused on her breathing as she ran. She imagined her lungs expanding and deflating as she breathed. She forced her breath into a nice, steady rhythm as her heart rate accelerated and she picked up her pace.

The sound of sneakers hitting the ground, crunching the rocks, sent her into a meditative state. She felt fully present and alive, in the moment of her running, yet at the same time, it provided her an escape into a magnificent, and internal realm. It was a state only a runner could understand, but it was highly addictive. It was that state, that experience which caused her to run twice, sometimes three times a day.

As she ran she noticed a vague uneasiness begin to creep into her conscious, erasing her self-created bliss. She glanced around nervously. The trail was empty save for a rather large man jogging along behind her. She shook her head, she must be imagining things. She tried to shake the unease and get back into her meditative state, and just continue her run, but it was no use. She couldn’t get her mind to leave the man following behind her on the jogging trail.

‘Come on,’ she berated herself, ‘Other people use the trail for running too. It’s not mine. He’s allowed to run too.’

She glanced behind her, just to confirm to herself that she was, in fact, being paranoid. He was closer than he had been moments before.

‘Still not a crime,’ Saralee said to herself with a shake of her head.

She glanced back at him again. His breathing was irregular, his form, terrible. She glanced down at his shoes. They were totally wrong for running, and his outfit didn’t belong either. There was something seriously off about this man.

As she thought that thought, a strong, calloused hand clapped over her mouth, preventing her from screaming. She was dragged off toward a big whtie van that was waiting nearby on one of the trail’s many turnoffs.

Momentarily stunned, Saralee felt herself being lifted into the air and tossed unceremoniously into the back of the van. She hardly had time to think, let alone scream before the van was squealing off into the mountains.

Her momentary confusion wore off, and Saralee inched her way toward the window. The mountainside was thick with trees and little clearings for campsites. She tugged at the door. If she could just get it open, she could get into the trees and he would never be able to find her, she could make her way back home and everything would be fine. The door, however, didn't budge. She tried again. Nothing. It must be locked. She searched for the way to unlock it, but it was too far down to be able to reach in and unlock it with her fingers.

The van continued onwards and upwards as Saralee continued her search. They went deep into the forest. As they got deeper and deeper inside, Saralee began to get an uneasy feeling in the pit of her stomach, and her parent’s voices began playing in her head.

As a child she hadn’t been allowed to venture into the woods. Her parents told her to stay away, telling of the nightmares that came from the forest. As she remembered those stories, a heavy dread settled deep in her stomach.

The smooth, paved roads gave way to the unpaved, rocky trails of the mountainous forest, causing Saralee to be tossed about like a rag doll. Giving up on trying to get out of the van while it was moving, she turned her attention to try to catch a glimpse of her captor, but was unable to do so. The little window that connected the front to the back was tinted in such a way to make figuring out any features nearly impossible. She sighed. By the time the van came to a stop at an old, run-down cabin, she was sore and bruised.

The van pulled to a stop outside of a little cabin. The roof was falling down in several places, and the walls seemed barely able to hold what was left of the roof up. A strong wind could easily knock it down, and Saralee subconsciously monitored her breathing, not wanting to breathe too heavily in case her breath caused it to fall over on top of her. She almost felt bad for the place. It looked ready to give up the fight it had been losing for too long, and yet, it stood, unwilling to back down all the same.

As the tall, towering man opened the door, Saralee shrank back into the van, trying to get as far away from him as possible. The man didn’t seem to notice, or care, and lifted her up with the same disconcerting strength that she had remembered being put into the van. It was as if she weighed absolutely nothing. His dark, curly black hair scratched at her face as he carried her.

The door seemed to be the only sturdy part of the cabin, standing straight in its frame with a strong metal lock sealing it closed. It was almost comical compared to the rest of the broken walls that surrounded it. The other man came up behind them and unlocked the door as though there was nothing strange about such a sturdy door on such dismal walls.

If possible, the cabin looked even worse from the inside. Dirt covered every inch of the place and there was evidence that the surrounding forest was beginning to claim the land back, even if the cabin was standing in the way.

The two men marched her straight through the cabin and into a back bedroom, shoving her into a room that was scarcely bigger than a closet. The room had one small window, whose panes were so dirty that they barely let in any light, and a small hanging light bulb that was basically burned out. The room was nearly pitch black, even in the waning afternoon sun.

Her leg burned as she tried to move toward the door that the men had slammed behind them. She winced in pain. She hoped it wasn’t broken, but feared the worst. After a few moments of complete silence, she could hear sounds coming from the other room.

Gingerly, she pushed herself onto her hands and one knee and slid herself across the room to where she could hear better. With her ear pressed up against the door, she was able to discern voices.

Now what do we do with her? asked a young sounding male voice, a voice that she assumed came from the man who had pushed her into her unconventional prison.

We wait until we get our orders before we do anything, a deep voice boomed.

‘That must be the bearded man,’ Saralee decided.

When will that be?

Whenever our boss decides to call.

But…

No ‘buts’, now be quiet, the deep voice growled.

Silence encased the cabin once again. Exhausted and with nothing else to do, Saralee managed to drift off to sleep, despite the pain in her leg.

As she awakened, Saralee became aware of how incredibly cold she had gotten. She could hear the sound of a TV filtering into the room, and although the walls were nearly paper thin, they were just thick enough to muffle the sounds just enough that she couldn’t make out what they were watching. Her stomach growled, reminding her that she hadn’t eaten since lunch.

‘How long had that been? What time is it? What day is it?’ she thought to herself.

As her stomach growled again she started to bang on the door, hoping she could remind them that she had basic human needs.

What do you want? a voice growled.

Saralee recognized the booming voice from the previous conversation, whenever that had been.

The door opened abruptly, nearly causing Saralee to tumble out of the room. A stocky figure stood in the doorway, the smell of cheap beer wafting off of him. Food particles clung to his beard. His voice was low and gravely, like he’d smoked too many cigarettes in his life and now he didn’t have the ability to talk like a normal person. His brown eyes seemed to pierce into her, making her breath catch in her throat, choking off any words she might have said. As those sharp eyes pierced into her, she reminded herself that she had brought attention to herself and at the same time, her survival instincts kicked in. She had to try. Suddenly worried about making him mad, and trying not to make the situation worse, she haltingly voiced her request.

C...can I have something to eat? she hated the way her voice shook as she spoke.

Why?

I...I haven’t eaten for a long time. I’m getting hungry… she felt the blood beating its dance of fear in her ears and her own voice sounded foreign to her.

You’ll get fed when I decide to feed you, with that he slammed the door, narrowly missing her nose.

Using the door handle, she pulled herself to her feet and tried to walk to the window, but as soon as she put the slightest bit of weight on her left leg, a fiery pain shot up her leg. She crumpled in a heap and lost consciousness before she hit the floor.

Chapter 2

It had been a bad day for Jesse and Jordan. Their parents had come home drunk after gambling all afternoon, and Jesse had been called downstairs almost immediately. At the sound of her name being called, Jesse turned her attention toward her twin brother. Fear filled her sky blue eyes, darkening them ever so slightly. Without a word, Jesse got to her feet, and with slumped shoulders and a shivering frame, she walked down the stairs.

Jordan’s blood boiled inside of him as hatred of his parents flooded through him. He felt nothing but hatred for them, despised the way they were. With clenched fists and white knuckles, Jordan waited to be called downstairs as well. He squared his shoulders, waiting to see what his parents’ wrath had in store for him. He waited and waited, but nothing happened. Today was the day that their parents had seemed to forget about him.

The late afternoon light had turned to dark evening light by the time Jesse came back upstairs to their shared room. It wasn’t much of a place, just two beds and a dresser that the two of them had to share. They had no decorations, nothing to make the room say anything about the two people who lived there. It was just a small, forgotten room at the end of the hall. There was barely enough to squeeze the furniture they had inside.

Jesse shuffled into the room. Her blond hair was a mess, and her clothes were full of dirt. A huge red mark on her left cheek was a stark contrast to her otherwise pale skin. As she made her way to her bed, she cradled her left arm and sat cross-legged on the bed. She didn’t say a word. Didn’t look Jordan in the eye. She looked almost like a shell of a person.

What did they do to your arm? Jordan asked gently.

He knew without even touching it, that it probably wasn’t broken. He had years of experience. He didn’t even really have to ask. He could just imagine what had happened. His mother had slapped her for some perceived slight, either working too slow or not being clean enough, or something stupid, and their father would come to his mother’s side and would beat at her, twisting her arm until it popped.

Let me see it, Jordan knelt beside the bed as tears of pain flared up in her eyes, refusing to dissipate, It’s just twisted, Jordan proclaimed after careful examination, It’s gonna hurt for a bit, but at least it’s not broken.

Jesse nodded. She had had her fair share of having to try and set a broken bone. Her parents weren’t ones to take them to the doctor for something as silly as a broken bone, so they had learned to care for their wounds on their own. They had done it so often that they could probably do it better than a doctor.

They changed and got into bed, falling asleep more quickly than they would have thought possible. Jesse wasn’t aware of drifting off, all she knew was that at some point during the night, she felt someone shaking her. She stared out in the darkness and sat up, using her right arm to prop herself up.

What? she asked sleepily into the darkness.

Get up, we’re leaving, Jordan whispered.

What do you mean? Leaving? Where are we going?

I packed a bag for you. We are getting out of this house. We’ll walk to South Dakota. We have some family friends there. They’ll help us.

Jordan put a pack on her bed and stared anxiously out the window. His foot was going up and down as he tried to hurry his sister along.

Jesse stared at her brother for a moment, then reached for her clothes and began dressing as quickly and quietly as she could. One of the cool things about being a twin was that not a lot of talking was needed. They both knew that while Jesse might question and push against Jordan, she would never actually go against him.

The two of them were shadows as they made their way up the mountain forest at the edge of the town. It was the place that every parent warned their children not to go. It had become an urban legend, a ghost story of sorts. Everyone claimed to not believe the stories, but that didn’t keep them from staying as far away from the forest as they could.

Hurry up, will you? Jordan shouted to his twin sister, who was