Her Descent Read online

  Her Descent

  J.E. & M. Keep

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Her Descent

  Table of Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Book 2

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  Chapter 53

  Book 3

  Chapter 54

  Chapter 55

  Chapter 56

  Chapter 57

  Chapter 58

  Chapter 59

  Chapter 60

  Chapter 61

  Chapter 62

  Note from the Authors

  More by the Authors

  Biography

  © 2015 Pathforgers Publishing. Originally published as Theodora's Descent

  All Rights Reserved. If you downloaded an illegal copy of this book and enjoyed it, please buy a legal copy. Either way you get to keep the eBook forever, but you’ll be encouraging us to continue writing and producing high quality fiction for you. This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are the product of the author’s imaginations. Any resemblances to actual persons, living or dead, are entirely coincidental.

  Cover Design by Wicked Good Covers. All cover art makes use of stock photography and all persons depicted are models.

  This book is intended for sale to Adult Audiences only.

  All sexually active characters in this work are over 18 and between non blood-related and consenting individuals.

  More information is available at Pathforgers Publishing

  If you require content warnings: this particular story contains contains contains violence and extremely graphic and disturbing content including gore and mutilation (not described in detail).

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  Table of Contents

  Book One

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Chapter 19

  Chapter 20

  Chapter 21

  Chapter 22

  Chapter 23

  Chapter 24

  Chapter 25

  Chapter 26

  Chapter 27

  Chapter 28

  Chapter 29

  Chapter 30

  Book Two

  Chapter 31

  Chapter 32

  Chapter 33

  Chapter 34

  Chapter 35

  Chapter 36

  Chapter 37

  Chapter 38

  Chapter 39

  Chapter 40

  Chapter 41

  Chapter 42

  Chapter 43

  Chapter 44

  Chapter 45

  Chapter 46

  Chapter 47

  Chapter 48

  Chapter 49

  Chapter 50

  Chapter 51

  Chapter 52

  Chapter 53

  Book Three

  Chapter 54

  Chapter 55

  Chapter 56

  Chapter 57

  Chapter 58

  Chapter 59

  Chapter 60

  Chapter 61

  Chapter 62

  Note from the Authors

  More by J.E. & M. Keep

  Biography

  Book 1

  Chapter 1

  19th Century Britain...

  She could hear them. Not with her ears. Not with any mortal senses. It was something deeper and more primal than that, and it had become more acute when she moved into her late great-aunt’s manor. As if reaching out of her past, from the nightmares of her childhood during those winter stays in the towering stone complex.

  There was something singing to her, and she shifted in her bed once more to listen more closely. Even the sound of the thick sheets rubbing against one another made it hard to hear, drowning the voices out.

  Her nights were spent so sleeplessly that she could never enjoy the days. The sun and birdsongs of the day were unenjoyable to her as she overslept to make up for a night of strained listening.

  Life became a strange daze to her. Ever sleep-deprived, her mind always lingered on matters nobody else could relate to; none of her high society friends, certainly not the servants who came and brought her supplies and transferred her belongings.

  Arising from a brief spate of sleep, she moaned, surprised to have woken with her hand cupping her sex, and she slipped it out of the white, lacy undershorts and rested it onto her stomach. She could smell herself in the air, and it was tinged with something beyond her reasoning.

  Thia knew not what they were, or where they lurked, but after her fourth sleepless night, she knew she had to find them.

  Slipping from her bed, the wood floor felt cold beneath her bare feet. She was a slender woman, and she stole gracefully down the hallway. It didn’t matter that she was wearing nothing more than the see-through white slip, for the help was yet to be hired. She had hurried to this place as soon as her great-aunt died.

  Something from her youth made her need to return.

  Chapter 2

  The aroma of the tea filled the air even before the serving lady finished pouring it up. “Thank you, Mary,” said Theodora, giving a light smile as she let it be known the woman could go back to the more important matters of unpacking her things, before she returned to her parent’s estate where her proper employment remained.

  “Of course, m’lady,” said the elder maid, smiling fondly at her. The grey haired woman having served as a constant teacher and companion for so long that Theodora considered her as much family as servant.

  “Is that bergamot I smell in the tea?” asked her friend Celeste from Oxford University, another woman who forced her way in where she wasn’t invited.

  “Yes it is,” replied Thia, the two women wearing dresses that were perfectly fine and fancy, yet would’ve turned a few eyes had they the nerve to parade around public in them. Yet that was why Thia enjoyed her company, the both of them liked to buck expectations in their own way.

  A
s such they both served up their own milk and sugar in the absence of Mary, rather than keep her around for such menial things.

  “Are you quite certain you’re going to be alright out here by your lonesome, Thia dear?” asked Celeste, her head moving about, taking in the sight of the countryside around them as they sat upon a patio outdoors during a particularly lovely day. “I know you have always been one to skirt the norm, but... I dare say you shall be all by your lonesome out here. Nary a clever wit to match your own for miles around.

  Thia’s lips crooked into wry amusement. “Who’s to say how long I will stay here, Celeste? But truth be told, I intend to get some of my own very special work done. Maybe write up a new treatise on animal biology, geology... once I take an appropriate trip for inspiration,” she remarked with a prideful grin.

  “Theodora on the Origin of Everything, hmm? Is that to be your new life’s work, darling?” quipped the towering woman.

  “Something like that,” she responded. “We mustn’t tarry putting a woman’s touch to the issue, no? But first thing’s first, dear Celeste,” she remarked, placing down her tea cup and letting out a soft sigh as she relaxed back. “Some time to compose myself at long last.”

  “You’ve earned it,” remarked her friend, smiling to her. “Don’t shy from sending me a letter now and then. Especially if you find yourself off in some dark corner of the world, discovering untold wonders.” She leaned over the table, smirking a bit, “I promise I won’t steal the details and rush to publish them.”

  Thia’s eyes flashed wide, “Suspicious you would even say that, my dear. I’m afraid now I shall have to hold my cards a bit closer to my chest!” They both laughed.

  Chapter 3

  Thia’s blonde hair was pulled back from either side of her face, curled against her head and pulled back into twin ponytails, as though she wore a wreath at all times. It was practical for the young woman, and didn’t get in her way as she moved into the basement.

  It was late, so late, and she knew better than to wander, but that primal pull was growing stronger every day.

  Even the slightness of her physique couldn’t prevent those rotting, wooden stairs from creaking, and she ran her fingers along the stone walls as she walked. They felt almost slimy, and her hand retreated in protest. Her heart pounded as she took another step, feeling the stair give a groan under her weight.

  She could hear them calling her though, and she forced herself down onto the cold ground. It was dry and smooth, but she swore she felt things crawling towards her. Something glanced across her bare ankle and she gasped, stepping away.

  “I can hear you,” she pleaded into the darkness, and tried to light her oil lamp. “Please.” Her hands shook before she finally ignited it, looking upon... nothing.

  The basement was bare, holding little more than some preserves and rusting grounds-work materials. Thia’s large, blue eyes filled with tears, and her body trembled. She was walking in a dream, it felt like, unaware of reality and the absurdity of her position.

  It was only then she realized how cold she was, her pale flesh prickling as a brush of air touched along her bare arm.

  She gasped and turned! For a moment she thought she saw something lurking between the shadows just before her light snuffed out.

  There was nothing.

  Just the void of darkness all around her.

  She had dropped her lantern but couldn’t feel it. Perhaps it was her panic at having just seen something—someone?—but she couldn’t find the cold metal to latch onto as she groped along the ground.

  As she searched, however, the sound of that crawling returned. It grew, and sounded as if it came from ahead of her. All she could do was follow it. Heed her impulse to search it out.

  It was growing closer, but never quite within reach. Always out of reach no matter how loud the scratching sound of some unknown claws moving upon stone and wood grew.

  It reached the point where she could no longer take it, not in the oppressive dark that left her so powerless, and she touched the cold stone of the wall and pushed herself up. What was she doing? Had the sleepless nights truly driven her to such an obscenely ridiculous state as to scramble after bugs on her hands and knees in the dirt? She had to get away.

  She had to run!

  As she thrust herself from the wall and bolted into the dark, her getaway was short lived. She crashed into something wooden, and it was as if all the world clattered down around her noisily.

  Chapter 4

  Thia had no idea how long she’d passed out, but awaking she felt cool air brush over her. It beckoned her, but she felt wood blocking it from much of her body. She very nearly tried clawing her way through when she noticed the glimmer of light in the distance, and saw her lamp on the floor.

  Somehow it had become lit again, and she crawled out from beneath the broken, rotted wood and towards it. Righting the lamp and letting the flame grow, she could see again. Her eyes fell on the gaping hole she’d accidentally created from some rotted corner of the basement.

  It led into a rickety chamber, sealed only by decaying wood, it seemed. And though curiosity beckoned her, she felt a thudding pain in her skull and the stab of hunger. How long had she been there?

  Her hands were so dirty, and her muscles felt exhausted. There was a tightness between her two shoulders, and she took a step backwards. This was it. This was her time, her choice, and her body trembled.

  Something beckoned her from within that foreboding hole, but instead she turned to the stairs. They were partially splintered and rotted, and her entire body felt like she’d been stretched on a rack for days. It could wait.

  Chapter 5

  She’d taken several days to recuperate from her incident, but each moment of her wait was spent agonizing over her anxiousness to explore. It had gotten beneath her skin, the surreal and strange feeling so familiar and foreign all at once. Even the light of day couldn’t ease her mind of what lurk beneath her.

  What was it that was happening in the manor? What was the noise of that crawling?

  Even as she sat at the ancient, wooden table her aunt used to serve breakfast at, Thia’s food sat idle as she stared towards the door, pondering the mysteries of the basement.

  That was it, she concluded.

  That weakened portion of wall she’d accidentally exposed was the key to her answers. She felt it more than knew it. It had to be. It was as though some dark, instinctual part of her had become attuned with things she didn’t yet know of, and she pushed herself up from the table.

  Her small stomach gurgled in protest, but it didn’t matter to the young woman. All that mattered in this instant was what she didn’t know and yet knew so intimately. Lost were thoughts of balls and courtly affairs, of obligation to family and the estate.

  It was as though whatever secrets were there had crawled under her flesh and infested her slim body. She wore a long, antique-gold dress that brushed against her ankles as she walked and bared her shoulders, and though she knew it was impractical, she breezed past the hall leading to her bedroom on the way to those rickety stairs.

  Still, she hesitated at the top, and her hand trembled as she went to the oil lamp. The help would be arriving within a fortnight, but the wait... It was torture. She couldn’t hold off for the presence of more.

  It was another instinct, a deep burning down in her very core. She had to be alone.

  Thia had been a young scholar, an exceptional student growing up, and a pride to her family in academic matters. She had been encouraged to be more than a mere lady-in-waiting, and she excelled at it. She told herself it was the same yearning curiosity that drove her at that moment to plunge back down into that deep basement.

  She reached around the corner of the doorway and found the lantern. One thing she would not skimp on was oil for it, and she filled it to fullness before lighting it and heading down that dark tunnel.

  Between the groans of the stairs she heard it: that faint sound of crawling from the tunnel b
elow. Her destination.

  She plunged down, nearly toppling when one of the old wooden stairs gave way with a crunch, dropping a quarter of an inch. Thia managed to catch herself with her nails dug into a crack in the cold stone and swallowed down her anxiety.

  The flickering image of some figure in the corner of the basement drew her attention until she realized it was just the misshapen shadow of an old shovel propped against a crate.

  The noise of something scuttling through that hole at the other end of the basement faded, and she felt the light, cool flow of air tickling her skin beneath her dress.

  “Hello?”

  Her voice echoed in the small room, and her nose crinkled with confusion. Her voice shouldn’t echo, not here, not with the low ceiling and the dirt floor.

  Her mouth went dry, and she swallowed as she took a step towards the shovel, her fingers touching against it. Should she take a weapon? Something within her said no, and her hand retreated.

  Thia approached the hole, the lantern shedding light upon those ancient cut timbers. They looked nothing like the wood throughout the rest of the manor, not even the rotted old boards in the basement. Even those must have been replaced a dozen times since these before her were put in place, and it didn’t take much for her to push the ones in the hole out of the way. They crumbled with ease, falling apart against her push, twisting and breaking, but not with the crunch of wood in the other room. These were molded and slightly damp; they peeled away like soggy bread.

  Her curiosity nearly got the better of her, but she cleared enough of a space to safely get through before attempting to squeeze in. When she pushed her lantern through all she saw were the smoothly worn away walls of what was once a tunnel leading down. She could see that damp water trickled across their surface, and had turned what must have once upon a time been carved stone blocks into smooth, nearly melded surfaces.

  It was an older stonework than the rest of the manor, she noticed right away. Nothing like the elegant style of the rest of her aunt’s place.

  Thia’s heart thudded in her chest, and she felt heat rise within her, even though the cool air was stronger with the boards gone.

  She had to push forwards, though. Some innate yearning to explore, to discover, to... she didn’t know what, she just had to go in. Regardless of the justifications, or lack thereof.