BLURB
Have you ever wondered what lurks in the mirrors?
Daryl doesn’t have to wonder… he knows.
But why do they stalk him? Why can’t he remember anything?
It’s enough to drive a guy crazy!Meanwhile, the eerie asylum seems to know more than an old pile of rock and mortar has any right to and his therapy is uncovering a blood-stained past of pain and death, alongside something dormant within him of disturbing power. When Dr. Walker teaches him how to face his demons, the psychoses and dreams conspire to warn him of something even worse stalking him. Something ancient and evil.
To survive, Daryl must confront the repressed memories that drove him insane.
For madness—is a blunt instrument.
This dark fantasy epic and paranormal thriller with a Shutter Island’esque vibe will have you questioning what is real. The story mixes dark and traditional fantasy with horror and science fiction elements to explore mental health, guilt, and a world where the physical realm of our experience blends seamlessly with the fantastical realm of monsters and gods. Perfect for fans of The Gunslinger, The Dresden Files, and the TV series Black Mirror.
EXCERPT
“Dad,” she said imploringly, “please don’t make me show you again.”
A shiver ran down his spine. “No, of course,” Daryl said quickly. “No need for that.”
“Why did you go?”
“I . . .” he halted, unsure. “I thought I could have both.”
“And then what happened?”
“I . . .” His mind blanked, and he looked out the window, petrified.
“You have to face this, it’s not—” The pitch of her voice rose in alarm. “The butter is burning!”
Daryl whipped around, depositing the smoking skillet at the back of the stove before cranking up the extractor hood.
“Thanks,” he said, about to turn back around.
The sound of small feet pattered across the floor, coming for him.
“This is not how it happened,” she said from right next to him, the accusation in her voice like a discordant note, slashing the air. He knew what was coming, fearing it with every fiber of his being. Still, her voice ignited a deep ache to turn around and hold her, but he knew that was impossible.
The smoke from the burned butter grew in intensity, and he looked down. The tabletop was beginning to char. Wisps of smoke were gently rising from the crack where the counter met the wall. She jumped onto the tabletop, bringing herself level with him, reaching out for him with arms starting to blister from the heat.
His vision was blurring, as if sweat was dripping into his eyes, and his mind reeled. She grabbed him, causing him to stumble and seize hold of the now smoldering counter.
“Dad,” she said softly.
He tried to resist, but she forcibly turned him around, facing her. Facing those terrible eyes . . . eyes which held the truth.
“No,” he muttered.
“Listen.”
“Please no,” he repeated meekly.
She leaned in as if to speak, but instead opened her mouth wide and screamed. It tore through everything, cutting at his very soul. He knew why she screamed. He knew . . . Daryl felt a sudden sharp pain in his mouth, followed by a jolt as the dream receded. His surroundings grew foggy, her face retreating down a well. The dream dwindling, dwindling, gone.
Author Info
J. Cornelius is a medical researcher of pathogenic viruses by day and a writer of fantasy/sci-fi fiction by night. He is also: An equal responsibility father of three, a loving husband, an avid lover of many types of mountaineering, especially rock climbing and snowboarding, and a DIY maker of herb and fruit flavored spirits.
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