Nocticadia: A Dark Academia Gothic Romance

At a soft knock on the door, I opened my eyes that were sticky with dried tears. Darkness blanketed the room, save for the soft glow of Christmas lights around my window.

“Lil?” Conner peeked his head inside the door. “I’m gonna go up to Callahan’s. She’s got–”

“Conner, I know you two have something going on, okay? It’s fine.”

His lips flattened, and he rubbed the back of his neck. “Was just …. I didn’t know if it was too soon after your mom.”

“It’s been four years. It’s fine.”

“Okay. You need anything?”

“I don’t think so. You’re not … planning to have Angelo over anytime soon, are you?”

“Nah. I ain’t seen much of him, at all. The guy is so fucked in the head after he heard what happened to that rich prick.”

“What happened to him?” Part of me didn’t want to know. While I’d always been peripherally aware of Conner and Angelo’s shady dealings, I’d never dipped too much of myself into their business.

It was a shadowy world I’d kept on the fringes. One that scared me.

Not that I had much choice, anyway, the way Conner was so secretive about it.

“Had his eyes gouged. Dick cut off. All of his guts were stretched out on the floor around him. Whoever did that was one sick bastard.”

“You told me the guy he killed was some kind of sadist. Not a saint.”

“Right. I’m sure he did worse. Anyway, I haven’t talked to Angelo in about two weeks.”

A small relief after the shitstorm I just went through. “I’m just gonna sleep. Tomorrow, I’ll go out and see if I can find a job.” The last thing I intended to do was stick around in the apartment all day, lamenting in my bedroom.

“Okay. But again, I got you for a couple weeks, okay? You don’t have to rush into something. I still feel like shit for Bee’s tuition.” As he should have, but I kept that to myself. “How’d you get them to let her stay?”

“Just figured things out. She’s good for a couple months.”

“Cool. All right. You get some sleep.”

With a nod, I rolled back over in bed, staring out at the night sky. I touched the screen of my cellphone, and when it remained black, I shot up in bed. Following the trail to the end of the cord showed that I hadn’t bothered to plug it into the wall to charge earlier. “Damn it!” A low battery light lit up the screen when I shoved the cord into the socket. I fell back onto my pillow, sighing.

Devryck having left on business meant not even he would’ve been looking for me just yet. But when he returned, what would he think?

My mind drifted back to the day on the beach, when he’d taken me for my first dip in the ocean. The drive in his car along winding roads. The moments we stole away. The kisses. His touch. Would I ever see him again? Or would he one day fade into the perfect dream?

I reached over the edge of my bed, and from my suitcase, I pulled out my mother’s painting of the swing and the ocean. Through a mist of tears, I stared at the view I’d hoped to one day make a reality for me and Bee. Even as brief as my visit at the house had been, it felt like home. My true home.

I held the painting to my chest, and as the tears slipped down my cheek, my finger dragged over a lifted corner of the canvas’s backing, where I must’ve shoved it too hastily in my suitcase. I ran the frayed edge through my finger and caught sight of something behind it. Stuffing my pinky into the small gap, I felt something inside. I tugged at the backing’s loose corner, popping it free from the staples, and once peeled back enough, I found a folded paper had been secured to the inner part of the canvas.

What the hell?

I unfolded the paper to find a letter.

Signed by my mother.

Two weeks before she’d died.

My Sweet Lilia,

If you’re reading this, I either forgot about it, in which case, I suspect we’ll be having a lengthy conversation afterward. Or my illness got worse and you’re looking for answers. Either way, I suppose it was meant to be.

I’ve spent hours, days, deciding how to go about telling you things I’ve kept to myself for a number of years. Important things. As my illness seems to be progressing, I feel compelled to leave something behind, and it wouldn’t be fair to carry all my secrets with me.

I’ll preface this by saying that no one in this world is more important to me than you and your sister. Every decision I made, I did out of love for the two of you.

That said, I’ve lied to you, my love, and I hope you can find it in your heart to forgive me.

While you’ve always known me as Francesca Vespertine, my real name is Vanessa Corbin. I was born on a small island off the coast of Maine called Dracadia, where generations of our family have lived. In fact, we are descendants of the first colonists. Which would’ve probably been a cool conversation to have, if my past weren’t so riddled with dysfunction.

A year before you were born, I met a charming doctor who convinced me to join a study at the university to help cure my diabetes. We fell in love, but he was married at the time, so things were a bit complicated. Particularly when I got pregnant with you, and he asked that I terminate the pregnancy. The mere suggestion of such a thing tore at my heart, and I refused—a decision that angered both him and my father.

Your father threatened that if I decided to go through with the pregnancy, he would ensure that I’d never get custody of you.

I was young and stupid and scared. So I fled with nothing more than the clothes on my back and cash in my purse. And the longer I stayed away, the easier it was to stay away, because having to explain nearly two decades of avoidance just seemed harder. The lies to protect you had snowballed out of control.

Then about two weeks ago, I went home for my mother’s funeral. I know you thought I was looking into surgery for Bee, but telling you the truth at the time was complicated. Again, forgive me. I only wanted to see my mother one more time and perhaps find a way to secure the home that I grew up in, a place where you, me, and Bee could live freely. Unfortunately, the house had gone into foreclosure and it turned out the new owner was your father.

I should’ve walked away. I wish I had. I was foolish to think the years had made him wiser. Had changed him in any way. I was wrong.

He doesn’t know about you. I lied and told him that I’d suffered a miscarriage and lost the pregnancy. Not because I didn’t want you to have a relationship with your father, but because he’s a dangerous man who can’t be trusted. I lied to protect you, Lilia.

Therefore, I won’t give you his name. While I suspect you’re smart enough to put pieces together based on what I have told you, I’m urging you to set aside your anger for me and stay away from him. Believe me, you’re better off without him.

In the event that I do not get well, do not seek him out for anything. You’ll get through things. You always do.

I love you and Bee very much. Infinitely. And I’m so proud of you, my sweet girl.

Love Forever,

Mom

Tears slipped down my cheeks, which I quickly wiped away as I frowned down at the letter. I suspected it was Lippincott she was referring to, even if she’d refused to say. She must’ve met with him about the house—the timing of it all precisely just before she’d gotten sick. Could he have been the one to infect her?

The sound of a hard thump somewhere in the apartment interrupted my thoughts. Muscles steeled, I glanced back toward the door, and after slipping the note and painting back into my suitcase, I tiptoed toward it, pressing my ear to the wooden panel.

Had Conner returned?

Cracking the door, I stepped out into the hallway for a better listen. “Conner? Is that you?”

No answer.

Another hard thunk, and I jerked.

I padded halfway down the dark hallway, ears perked, and scanned the kitchen and the small living room across from it.

No sign of anyone.

Cold tendrils of fear slithered across the back of my neck, and I dashed back to my room for my phone to call Conner. I swiped the phone still charging on my nightstand—only ten percent battery—and sprinted back toward the door. When I swung it open, Angelo stood in the dark hallway, his form illuminated by the small bit of light from the kitchen.

The air stalled in my chest, and my stomach dropped.

His hair stood at cocked angles of disarray, and the beard and mustache covering his face told me he hadn’t shaved in a while. Red rimmed eyes spoke of little sleep, or drugs, and he appeared thinner than the last time I’d seen him.

On a frenzied beat of my heart, I pivoted toward the front door and dashed down the hallway, in the opposite direction. Body slamming into the door with the momentum, I fumbled with the lock.

Searing pain lashed my scalp, as Angelo wrenched my hair back. “’The fuck you think you’re going, bitch!” A hard slam against my hand knocked my phone loose, and it bounced out of reach.

I opened my mouth to scream, and a dirty hand palmed my face, his fingers digging into my cheeks. Scream muffled, I clawed at his hands and bit down on his thumb. Hard.

“Ahhh, you fucking cunt!” He released me, and I spun out of his grasp, standing face to face with him.

He blocked the doorway, licking the blood from his thumb.

My phone lay to the right of him.

Adrenaline coursed through me in hot pulses, while my mind scrambled for a plan.

The knife. I’d tucked my pocketknife under my pillow earlier. And the fire escape sat right outside my window. I darted back toward my bedroom, Angelo’s heavy footfalls chasing after me. The moment I entered my room, I spun around and slammed the door shut, pressing hard against the wood, and reached for the lock.

He plowed into the other side of it, kicking me back a step, and a scream shot out of me.

I pushed hard, muscles straining to close it. C’mon!

Even in his weakened state, he was bigger. Stronger.

Abandoning the fight, I let go and scrambled toward my bed for the knife. The door flew open, and Angelo crashed through on a curse.

I held out the knife between us with a trembling hand. “Leave me the fuck alone,” I said on a shaky voice.

“Lily Cat … you always were a little fighter, weren’t you?” Licking his lips, he stepped closer, and from his back, presumably his waistband, he pulled a gun. “Bring a knife to a gunfight … well, it’s just stupid.”

“What are you doing here, Angelo? You’re gonna hurt me?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m gonna hurt you. I’m gonna fuck you. Hard. And I’m gonna take that knife and slit your throat, ‘cause … you know, poetic justice, and shit. Then I’m gonna cut you up in pieces so I can carry your ass out of here without anyone gettin’ wise.”

“How’re you gonna do all that with Conner here?”

“Conner isn’t here. He’s been fucking that Callahan bitch every night. Got her knocked-up, did you know that? Congrats. You’re gonna be … something.” He snorted a laugh and scratched the back of his grown-out hair. “Guess it’s Bee who’s gonna be a big sis. But no matter. You were never really a part of things, anyway, right?”

“Why? What have I ever done to make you so hostile, Angelo?”

“It’s not about what you’ve done to me. Seems somebody at that school has it in for you.”

Faces flashed through my mind. Gilchrist. Lippincott. Even Mel.

“Someone from my school put you up to this?”

“Yep. Not gonna say who, though. It’s a secret,” he whispered, pressing a finger to his lips and grinning.

When he lurched again, I jerked the knife.

Sighing, he narrowed his eyes on me. “I’m bored of this shit. I got a long night ahead, so what do you say we get started?”

“Angelo, don’t. I know people. People who can pay you.”

“You don’t know the right people. See, power is where it’s at, Lily Cat, and you ain’t got that kind of pull in your corner. Taking you out means protection for me. Means I don’t have to sit rotting in a fucking room waiting for death.” Meaning he struck some deal with someone to kill me. The question was who? He edged toward me. “Take your clothes off.”

“No.” My hand still trembled as I held out the knife.

“Take. Your fucking. Clothes. Off. Or I’ll blow out your kneecaps.” He raised the gun, pointing the barrel of it toward my legs.

A suffocating fear filled my lungs as I stared back at him. “Don’t do this,” I whispered.

“You know what a bullet feels like? It burns. And when it shatters a bone? There’s nothing like that pain. So, I’ll give you to the count of ten, and then I’m just going to empty this fucking gun into that body. If I gotta fuck you dead, so be it. Wouldn’t be the worst thing I’ve done.” Beady eyes sharpened on me, his lips peeled back for a snarl. “One. Two.”

Still holding the knife, I unfastened my pants and one-handedly pushed them to the floor.

“Shirt,” he said.

I shook my head.

“Three. Four. Five.”

Uneven breaths shook out of me, as I hooked the hem of my shirt and quickly yanked it over my head so I wouldn’t get trapped in it. I crossed my arm over the lace bra I still wore.

Eyes alight with a sickening fascination, he licked his lips, staring me up and down. “Panties, too.”

A sob broke in my chest as I stood paralyzed, trying to wrap my head around what was happening right then.

On a whim of adrenaline, I spun around and scrambled across my bed for my window. I only just managed to open it a crack before his palm slammed into my throat, knocking the air out of me as he took me to the floor.

A scream tore from my chest, cut short by his hand pressing hard against my mouth.

“Shut the fuck up! Shut the fuck up!”

I swiped out at him, the blade connecting with his cheek. On a shocked jerk, he touched the wound I’d made there, wiping some of the blood, and eyes wide, he stared down at it, as if in disbelief.

With my hand raised for another strike, I swung toward his throat this time.

He caught my arm before the fatal blow could land.

A growl roared out of him, and he crushed my hand against the floor, the small shocks of pain zipping over my knuckles breaking my grip of the knife. Over and over, he hammered my hand, crushing my bones. A flash in my periphery was the only warning before knuckles plowed into my cheek, vibrating my teeth. The jarring hit blurred my vision and sent a shooting ache up into my ear. The same hand that hit me clamped back over my mouth, his fingers digging into the ache he’d planted there.

I screamed behind his palm, tears distorting his form.

“I wanted you to be a little more lucid for this, but I guess it doesn’t fucking matter, does it?” From somewhere below, he pulled out a small baggie with pills inside.

I thrashed my arms and legs, screaming until my voice turned hoarse, and he pressed the full weight of his body over me, pinning me down.

His hand slid from my mouth, and I clamped my lips shut. Fingers dug into my jaw, prying at my chin so hard, I felt like he was trying to crack my bones. The gurgled sound in my throat snapped short when he deposited the pills into my mouth. He forced my lips shut and pressed both hands over my mouth and nose. The air waned. Dizziness wobbled my view. Lungs punching at my ribs for a sip of air.

“Swallow it, bitch!”

A sob cracked inside my chest, and the pills slipped down my throat. I choked and gagged behind his hand, and only then did he remove the palm blocking my nose. I gasped for air and coughed again, the godawful scent of metal clogging my sinuses.

“That’s it. You’re about to get nice and fucking pliant in a minute. Just lay still.” A slimy tongue dragged across my cheek. “Relax,” he whispered.

Something inside of me snapped like a fragile twig.

Relax.

The word echoed in my ear.

In the haze of chaos inside my head, a vision appeared.

Blood. The tub. I look up to see a dark form standing over me.

Lilia! Lilia!

The sound of my mother’s voice reverberated off my skull, and I flinched.

The dark figure steps over me toward the tub, where my mother’s slender legs dangle over the edge.

Her leg kicks.

She’s alive. Alive! I thought she was dead, but she’s alive!

“My … my mother. She was alive,” I whisper, narrating the vision as it played in my head.

Angelo paused somewhere in my periphery.

More memories filtered in.

“Stay away from me!” she screams.

Pain throbs in my skull on jagged flashes of light across my eyes. The air is too thick to move. “Mama,” I rasp.

The shadowy figure grunts, with his arms outstretched. Drowning her. He’s drowning her! My mother’s leg stiffens, toes curled.

I scream.

Blackness.

The loud gurgling of water draining rouses me, and I blink awake.

I’m clawing at wet tiles, trying to get to her, but my muscles won’t move.

“Relax,” the shadow says to me, the smell of dirt and metal sticky in my sinuses.

My throat tightens as realization stabs my chest. “You were there that night.”

Even more echoes of memory filter in.

Knock knock knock.

I glance back toward the front door of the apartment.

“I’m a friend of Conner’s.”

“It was you at the door. Then … I saw you drown her. You drowned her!” The smirk on his face blurred behind more memories.

The figure runs a blade over my mother’s wrists. Thick drops of red blood plink across the stark, white tiles.

“You killed her. She was alive, but you killed her!”

“I was sent to finish the bitch off. Imagine my surprise when you beat me to it.”

I stilled. An icy mist of panic expanded inside my lungs, as I fought to absorb his words. A flash of memory slipped behind my eyes.

Hands reaching out for me. Screams. Horrible screams.

Eyes screwed shut, I shook my head.

No. No. Don’t look at it. It’s not real. Not real.

“You don’t remember much about that night, do you?” A wicked chuckle in my ear stirred demons from their slumber. Teeth and claws snapping at my conscience.

My stomach stirred with a horrible dread that scratched at my guts.

“Mama! Stop!”

A distant scream rattled through my skull, and I let out a whimper as it picked at my brain like nails on a scab.

“You’re lucky,” Angelo kept on. “I’d have loved to forget those fucking disgusting things wriggling around the tub, feeding on her blood before I sent them down the drain.”

Blood on the tub. My mother’s fingernails digging into my skin. Worms coming out of her like black smoke curling and shifting through the water.

The blackness in my gut crawled into my chest, squeezing its poisoned-dipped fingers over my lungs. I couldn’t breathe. I couldn’t breathe.

“Mama! Please!”

“I can’t breathe!”

I screamed and thrashed beneath him, the monster inside of me desperate for escape. Please!

“Yes. You held her underwater.”

“She was still alive,” I growled back at him.

“Barely.”

Liar. A fucking liar! “No. You slit her wrists. The coroner’s report …” My voice trailed off, watching his lips stretch to a grin. “Oh, God. You made it look …”

Angelo’s laughter only goaded the panic rising into my throat, pulsing like a living thing. A dark and wicked beast that gnawed at my ribs. “That coroner was pissing his pants, making sure her death looked like a suicide. That’s power, Lilia.” He let the tip of the blade scratch my cheek. “You passed out. Hit your head on the tub. Good thing, too. Made the whole scenario more believable.” The stench of dirt and metal clogged my throat as he leaned in closer to me. “I saved your ass, Lily Cat. Between that and lying about your existence to Lippincott,” he said, inadvertently spilling the name. “I saved your ass so many times, you owe me that ass. And I’m sure as hell gonna take it.”

Lippincott. It was Lippincott.

“Best part of sticking around this shithole city was getting to watch you blossom into a woman. A woman I intend to break.” He held up my pocketknife, twisting it in front of me. “Some couples? They get matching tattoos. You and me? We’re gonna have matching scars. Only yours ain’t gonna be so pretty.”

My body shook with the effort of trying to break from his grip, but he pressed his full weight on my chest, crushing my lungs. White-hot pain streaked along my face, from the corner of my eye to my jaw. I let out a hoarse scream behind his palm, as tears slipped down my temples.

“It’s a shame, really. You were so pretty. Now you’re a monster. A used-up fucking whore. Although, I’m sure you were spreading your thighs for every college dick, weren’t you? I bet you had a rotating door of dicks sticking it in that little pussy of yours, didn’t you?”

Fuck you!

The drugs must’ve been kicking in, as vertigo shifted my vision. That, or I was passing out, I couldn’t tell. In my periphery, the room widened and shrank and spun. A drowsy warmth settled over me, like I wanted to sleep, desperately needed to close my eyes.

Through the haze, I heard a distant pounding.

Angelo froze over me, attention turned toward the door.

“Lilia!” That voice. I recognized it. Deep. Authoritative.

A sob caught in my throat as more tears slipped down my temples.

Devryck! I wanted to call out. Please!

“You keep your fucking mouth shut,” Angelo whispered, nearly crushing my jaw with his grip. “Keep your fucking mouth shut until he leaves.”

No! No! Devryck! Help me!

Another pound against the door. “Lilia! It’s Professor Bramwell. Are you there?”

Behind Angelo’s palm, I sniveled, coughing and choking on the snot gathered at my nose.

“Professor, huh?” he said quietly. “You fucking a teacher, slut?” His hand snaked down to my panties, and he curled his fingers to a tight fist around my flesh, squeezing.

A wild cry rattled my throat, the pain unbearable as I kicked to get him to release me.

“Did he break you already? Huh?” Angelo said with a snarl.

That was it. I needed to get him angry. Mad enough to want to hurt me. To distract him from Devryck.

I nodded. “He fucked so good,” I said behind his palm and laughed through tears.

“’The fuck did you say?”

I intentionally distorted my voice again and forced a laugh.

He removed his hand, squeezing my jaw instead. “Say it again, cunt.”

“He fucked me so good.”

A hard blow struck my cheek on a flash of light, vibrating the bones. “Whore!” he screamed over the ringing in my ears. Grip tight to my throat, he trapped the air in my lungs. “We’ll see how good it feels when I fuck you with the business end of my blade.”

A gurgling scream sputtered up my throat.

Pounding at the door grew distant beneath the blood pulsing in my ears.

My body jerked and jostled as he gathered his arms beneath me, my limbs heavy and numb. Whatever he’d given me had rendered me useless and nerveless. He dragged me toward the wall with ease, holding me against him, my back to his chest, and he held out his gun. “Ain’t nobody coming through that fucking door without me filling them with lead.”

No. The minute Devryck appeared, he’d be shot. I couldn’t let that happen. Even if it killed me, I refused to let this ruthless bastard murder him in front of me.

Fight him.

Something caught my eye underneath my bed.

My old trophy for track and field that I’d haphazardly thrown there while cleaning my room. Closing my eyes, I took in a deep breath. Fucking this up meant he’d surely kill me, then Devryck. I had to be precise. And fast. An impossible thought, when my arms had begun to turn numb.

Mustering what little strength I had left, I reached behind and gripped Angelo’s nuts so hard my hands shook with the effort.

A boisterous, gurgling scream hammered my ear, and the moment he released me, I fell awkwardly to the side, fighting the effect of the drug that had me feeling like I was swimming through quicksand. Ragged breaths razed my lungs, as I dragged myself toward the edge of the bed, clawing at the floor. As my body got yanked backward, I snagged the weighted metal base of the trophy.

“Fucking bitch!” Angelo bellowed, and as he twisted me around, I swung out with the momentum, knocking him in the skull with the heavy iron. He fell to the side on a thunk, groaning.

A prickling weakness shot through my arms, as I struck him again, bashing him square in the forehead. Blood seeped from his crown and over his temples, as he rolled his head back and forth with heavily-hooded eyes that made him look drunk.

A curling black void seeped in from the fringes, crawling over me with determined fingers that slowly pulled me out of consciousness.

Screams breached the darkness. Horrible screams. Mine? I couldn’t tell.

The noise fractured inside my head, as I was once again hurled toward an inescapable silence.

Blackness.

Incendiary eyes stared down at me. Furious eyes that glowed a hot molten copper. “Lilia,” he said, his voice like a dark angel’s. My avenging angel. Was I dead? I had to be.

Blackness.

Warmth engulfed me. A cozy heat. I curled into myself, falling deeper into sleep.

Deeper.

Deeper.

Silence pulled me under.