Read The Witches Of Denmark Online
Authors: Aiden James
The Witches Of Denmark
The Witches of Denmark
by
Aiden James
Acclaim for Aiden James:
“Aiden James has written a deeply psychological, gripping tale that keeps the readers hooked from page one.”
Bookfinds review for “The Forgotten Eden”
“A variety of twists, surprises, and subplots keep the story moving forward at a good pace. My interest was piqued almost immediately and my attention never wavered as I forced my eyes to stay open well into the night. (Sleep is overrated.) Aiden James is a Master Storyteller, whose career is on the rise! Out-freaking-standing-excellent!”
Detra Fitch of Huntress Reviews, for “Immortal Plague”
“Aiden James’ writing style flows very easily and I found that Cades Cove snowballed into a very gripping tale. Clearly the strengths in the piece were as the spirit's interaction became prevalent with the family…. The Indian lore and ceremonies and the flashbacks to Allie Mae's (earthly) demise were very powerful. I think those aspects separated the work from what we've seen before in horror and ghost tales.”
Evelyn Klebert, Author of “A Ghost of a Chance”, “Dragonflies”, and “An Uneasy Traveler” for “Cades Cove”
“The intense writing style of Aiden James kept my eyes glued to the story and the pages seemed to fly by at warp speed…. Twists, turns, and surprises pop up at random times to keep the reader off balance. It all blends together to create one of the best stories I have read all year.”
Detra Fitch, Huntress Reviews, for “The Devil’s Paradise”
“Aiden James is insanely talented! We are watching a master at work….Ghost stories don’t get any better than this.”
J.R. Rain, Author of “Moon Dance’ and “Vampire Moon” for “The Raven Mocker”
BOOKS BY AIDEN JAMES
CADES COVE SERIES
Cades Cove
The Raven Mocker
THE TALISMAN CHRONICLES
The Forgotten Eden
The Devil’s Paradise
Hurakan’s Chalice (with Mike Robinson)
THE DYING OF THE DARK SERIES
With Patrick Burdine
The Vampires’ Last Lover
The Vampires’ Birthright
(Coming 2015)
Blood Princesses of the Vampires
(Coming 2016)
Scarlet Legacy of the Vampires
(Coming in 2017)
THE JUDAS CHRONICLES
Immortal Plague
Immortal Reign
Immortal Destiny
Immortal Dragon
Immortal Tyranny
Immortal Pyramid
Immortal Victory
NICK CAINE ADVENTURES
With J.R. Rain
Temple of the Jaguar
Treasure of the Deep
Pyramid of the Gods
Aiden James only
Curse of the Druids
Secret of the Loch
River of the Damned
WITCHES OF DENMARK
The Witches of Denmark
Witch out of Water
(Coming 2015)
WITH MICHELLE WRIGHT
The Judas Reflections
Murder in Whitechapel
Curse of Stigmata
Maid of Heaven
(Coming 2015)
WITH LISA COLLICUTT
The Serendipitous Curse
Reborn
Reviled
Redeemed
WITH JAMES WYMORE
The Actuator: Fractured Earth
The Actuator 2: Return of the Saboteur
(Coming in 2015)
Published by Aiden James
Manor House Books
Copyright © 2014 by Aiden James
Cover concept and artwork: Michelle Johnson
All rights reserved.
Ebook Edition, License Notes
This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to your favorite ebook store and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.
***The town of Denmark and its characters in this story are completely fictional. Any similarity to any actual town or people, living or dead, or in the process of dying, is strictly coincidental***
Table of Contents:
The Witches Of Denmark
Chapter One
The day we left Chicago was the day I became homeless.
Might as well have been sentenced as a vagabond.
Chicago had been my home during my entire life up until this past spring. But, as the school year ended, my family decided it was time to move on. So, we left our home in Wheaton, a quiet suburb of Chicago, to find someplace new. Someplace even less exciting than Wheaton, believe it or not. Someplace… down south?
Are you frigging kidding me?!
Maybe if it had been Nashville or Atlanta, or even Louisville, I could’ve coped with the move in terms of some comparability to what I’d lost. But Dad and Mom insisted on moving to some place far off the beaten path. Deep in the sticks. A place where they could chill out, lay low, and where my sister and I could experience a “different pace of life.”
Seriously, they said that.
Such a load of crap would be more apropos for my grandparents, who would soon join us in this insane venture below the Mason-Dixon line….
It was a move founded in desperation. To get away from the past.
Our
unfortunate, and deeply regrettable, past.
But you know what they say about trying to run away from one’s problems, right?
Yeah, well, there will be more about that in the coming pages of whatever this thing should be called. A diary or a journal? A book, perhaps? I like the sound of ‘journal’ best, since I can write as much or as little as I please, and be as detailed as I want or don’t want to be…. So, that’s what I’ll call it. My journal about the good, the bad, and the absolutely absurd shit that has visited me and my family in a place called Denmark, Tennessee. You should picture the twang to go with that, Chicago deep-dish style.
My name is Sebastian. Sebastian Radu, and my family and close friends call me ‘Bas’. I come from a proud Romanian family that has resided in the United States since 1801. We were New Yorkers in those days, or immigrants who pretended to be New Yorkers, doing their best to fit in with every other European embracing what was, at that time, a land of incredible opportunity. Maybe it’s a little corny. It certainly was easier to make a life and name for oneself back then.
But if you want a history lesson, my parents and grandparents are the ones to ask about that. As for Alisia, my younger sister, and me, we’ve always preferred to focus more on the present. We have our reasons, as you will soon learn.
We left the day after my graduation. May 22
nd
. My parents wanted to make this sort of a farewell/family vacation/graduation road trip. But all I wanted to do was get to wherever we were going, so I could begin my internment without the fanfare.
“Hey, at least you don’t have to go to school anymore,” Alisia told me, as we finished loading up the Escalade with the last of our stuff deemed too sacred to transport in the moving van that had already departed for Tennessee. “I’ve still got, like, forever before I graduate.”
I almost felt sorry for her. But schooling for a Radu had never been an easy, or traditional, thing.
“Let’s go kids!”
Dad and Mom stood by the SUV. They gazed at our old cape cod longingly, maybe enduring a moment of nostalgia while looking back on the deserted house. Our home, now abandoned and left to die. But despite my sister and I remaining glum after piling into the back seat, once we merged onto Highway 41 and headed south to Dixie, our parents seemed relieved. Running from a death threat can even bring a level of euphoria, I’m told. But we had never run from our troubles before.
In the meantime, while they seemed to exhale all their fears and worries from decades of uncertainty, I felt like heavy iron bonds and chains had been applied to my wrists and ankles. Even around my neck. Like a free man returned to the old south as a fugitive runaway. It didn’t seem to be as bad for Alisia, though she was far from experiencing the falling confetti and balloons going on in the front seat.
Dad said the trip would take less than nine hours to reach our destination—and less than eight if we drove straight through without stopping for lunch and/or dinner. But the drive seemed longer.
Much
longer. I ignored most of the scenery my mother pointed out, which honestly didn’t get interesting until we neared the Kentucky border. The hills got bigger and were covered with trees for miles on end. It inspired a nasal rendition of “Dueling Banjos” from the movie
Deliverance
, bringing an abrupt end to Mom’s efforts as our tour guide. But, hell, at least I got a giggle from my sis.
“Quit acting like an insolent ass.” My father pulled me aside, after we stopped for a bite in Murray, Kentucky. “You’re making this much harder than it needs to be, son.”
He regarded me wearily, and annoyance fueled his hazel irises to a brighter shade. Maybe the exodus south wasn’t easy on him either. Maybe he saw a younger version of himself, when he and Mom were forced to leave New York with my grandparents long ago. His face was the same one passed down for generations, or so I’ve been told, with only slight alterations. Nearly all of the Radu males in our clan have sleek pilgrim noses, thick dark hair, and some variation of green eyes—hazel or emerald.
My mother’s blue eyes and blonde hair have tainted that pattern slightly; giving Alisia blonde hair and both of us blue eyes. My sister’s features are softer than what Mom calls the ‘rugged Romanian comeliness of the Radu’. But everyone else, aside from Mom and Grandma, carries our traditional family traits.
I see myself as sort of a Kerouac beatnik figure, taller than most of my clan at six-foot four with a lanky build, shoulder length hair and often hiding my eyes behind a pair of dark Ray-Bans. Since my father sees it as supremely disrespectful to wear sunglasses when being chastised by him, I pulled them down until he finished.
“I’m not happy about the move, Dad,” I said. “Not at all.”
He regarded me a moment longer and sighed.
“If not for me, can you tone it down for your mother?” He grasped my shoulder, and though it was done affectionately, the strength of his grip prevailed most. An effort to coerce a truce? “It will make the transition easier.”
“I’ll try.”
“See that you do.”