CURSED 1

HE IS BACK

I rolled over in my bed and looked at the time on my cell phone. It was 9:30

p.m. and my twenty-minute power nap had turned into a two-hour snooze. Oops.

I glanced out my bedroom window to check the weather conditions. It was

completely dark with a lot of wind. Definitely not ideal jogging conditions, but it

would have to do. I needed to get in a workout or Tommy was going to kill me.

for slacking off. My best friend, Tommy, often got on my case, which was

ironic, because the guy was always getting into trouble himself.

I threw off my blankets and pushed myself out of bed. I gave one good yawn

with a long stretch, then plopped back on my bed. I knew if I didn’t run at this

very moment, there was no way I’d run at any other point in the night. It was

Now or never.

I am a professional mixed martial arts fighter, and training to be the best has

There are many drawbacks. The worst one, by far, is working out when my body is dead.

tired. The last thing I wanted to do tonight was exercise, but I knew I had to push

past my desire to be lazy. Because right about now, grabbing a bowl of Cap

Crunch cereal and flipping on an episode of CSI sounded a whole lot better than

running the streets of San Bernardino in the dark of night.

There was a knock at my bedroom door.

“Come in,” I called out.

“You decent?” It was Tommy, and he was just outside my door. Not only was

The guy is my best friend. He was also my housemate.

“Would I say ‘Come in’ if I wasn’t decent?” I laughed.

The door swung open slowly, and there stood Tommy, wearing nothing more.

than a tiny towel, showing off his perfectly chiseled body. He motioned to his

Ab and said, “Maybe because you are secretly in love with this.” He flexed his

stomach muscles and popped a sexy pose.

Damn, he was a clown.

“Save it for your girl groupies, bro. What do you want, Tommy?”

“I want to borrow some cologne. Is that cool with you?”

“Go ahead. They’re on top of the dresser.”

He clapped his hands and strode into my room, over to my dresser where I had

a collection of cologne. I had everything from Old Spice to high-end brands that

full penny in the nicer stores.

I watched as Tommy looked for his favorite. He was like a kid in a grocery store.

store, trying to pick out a favorite cereal.

“So, what’s with the cologne?” I asked.

“I got a date with that box girl at the supermarket, and I want to smell real

nice, if you know what I’m saying.”

“You finally got the nerve to ask her out?”

“It had nothing to do with nerves, brother. I finally wanted to ask her out.

She’s been eye-balling me for years.”

I rolled my eyes and started to get dressed for my run. “So, it took you two

years to want to ask her out? That’s the story you’re going to stick with?”

“You know me, Josiah. I like to take things slow before I go in for the kill.”

“That sounds very romantic,” I said.

“Kid, when are you going to realize that romance only gets you hurt in the

end?” he replied. “I’m done trying to don Juan my way around girls. I’m taking

a cue from the wild animal kingdom.”

“You’re just going to jump on top of women and not even say hello?” I

laughed.

“No. I’m just not going to waste unnecessary time making beds in a burning

house.”

“Okay, that analogy makes no sense. Which is the burning house? The

women or romance?”

Tommy thought about it and then laughed. “It made a lot more sense in my

head than it did out loud.”

“I bet it did. Where are you taking her?”

“I’m taking her to Murphy’s.”

“Wow, classy.” Murphy’s was the fanciest place to eat in San Bernardino. It

had it all: ambiance, location, and hot female clientele. “You are sure you’re not

Trying to romance this girl? I only take a girl to Murphy’s if she earns it.”

“She will,” Tommy replied.

“All I’m saying is you had better keep your eyes on your date and not the

waitresses.”

Tommy picked the cologne he wanted from the top dresser. Of course, the

Guy picked my favorite cologne, Dakar Noir. He sprayed his upper body and

both his legs and even lifted his towel to do a meticulous squirt inside the towel.

“That’s enough. You wear cologne. Don’t let the cologne wear you.” I

walked over and grabbed the bottle from Tommy’s hand. “Like I said, you’re all

class.” I pushed Tommy out of my room. “Now get out, so I can get ready for

my run.”

Tommy stopped himself and turned around. He looked at me seriously, which

he rarely did. “Don’t run too far tonight. I’ve got a weird feeling.”

“You do?” I asked, legitimately concerned. Tommy’s feelings were eerie. I

shrugged. “Okay, I’ll be careful. I’ll run to college and back.”

“Get back in an hour and you’ll be fine.” Tommy thought for a second and

then added, “Yeah, an hour will be fine. One more thing, Josiah, the

The commission is going to let us know tomorrow who we’ll fight next month.”

Tommy was also a professional fighter, and good enough to be a contender.

for the title.

“I hope the Commission will give me a real fight this time.

I said. “Maybe I’ll have a shot at moving up in the rankings.” The Commission

tended to think I was still a cherry, and they were taking me along a lot slower.

than I wanted.

“Maybe if you didn’t wait till 10:00 o’clock at night to get in a workout, you

would be ready to have better fights.”

I sighed. Tommy always brought up my workout regimen. Tommy and I

couldn’t be more different when it came to our workout routines. Tommy’s

workouts were epic. They made pro boxers’ workouts look tame. I, on the hand,

have always gotten by on pure talent. I have an insane ability to fight and my

instincts are off the charts. I got away with hardly working out, and finally, it has

caught up with me.

“You know you and I will never agree on how I should be working out,

Tommy. You should be pleased that I want to run tonight.” I paused, and then I

asked, “What kind of fight are you looking for with the Commission?”

“I just need a tune-up before my title fight. I need to work out some kinks.”

Tommy had been fighting for the title for four months.

“You’d better hope the Commission gives you just a tune-up fight and

nothing more. The last thing you need is to get hurt before your title bout.”

“I’m not going to get hurt; I’m 18-0! Remember that.” Here Tommy went.

again with his undefeated record. He wears his record like a badge of honor,

even a braggart. It was quite amusing, especially when he brought it up in bars.

and tried to impress girls. Usually, they had never even heard of mixed martial

arts.

Tommy seemed to forget I was undefeated, too, even though I didn’t work.

out nearly as hard as him. “You aren’t the only one who is undefeated,” I

reminded him.

He stood in my doorway. “Yup, you sure are. Your little 4-0 record is very

cute, Josiah.”

“I only have four wins because the Commission took forever to give me a

fight, unlike you, who they throw on the card every month.”

“What can I say? I’m an excellent draw. Chicks dig themselves some of the

‘Tom Man.’” Tommy was now starting to get full of himself, and that was my

cue to kick him out of my room. Again.

“For the love of God, Tommy, just go on your date!” I shut the door on his

face.

“Not cool, Josiah.”

“And neither is wasting all my favorite cologne.”

“Touché.”

I grinned at the exchange I just had with Tommy. I enjoyed his company.

Having him around made my life easier. In our friendship, we took turns on who

was the responsible one. Even though Tommy is ‘a good’ five years older than

me, people wouldn’t know it by how he behaves sometimes.

I peeled off my shirt, and I looked at myself in the mirror. I needed to lose

around ten pounds before my next fight. Did I even have ten pounds to lose? I

was six feet tall with very little body fat. I pinched my belly and grabbed as

As fat as I could get. I got a decent handful.

Okay, maybe I did have ten pounds to lose.

I studied my face. It was clean, with a few marks and scars, not like some of the

other professional fighters I knew. The ones who had been in it for a while

usually sported knots, bumps, scars, broken noses, busted cheekbones, and more.

My own face was remarkably unmarred, considering I had never said ‘no’ to a

fight in my life. In fact, I have been fighting off bullies since I was seven years old.

old. My shiny blonde hair, as pretty as any girl’s, had made me a target for

bullies who called me names and took their shots at me, thinking that my angelic

appearance translated into an easy target for beatings. In those years, me, the

pretty boy, had to fight my way into respectability by pummeling the never ending

parade of bullies. I got so good at defending myself on the street that I turned it

into my lifework. I was a natural, really, growing from a much picked-on kid.

into a professional fighter.

Nowadays, I look more like a surfer than a mixed martial arts fighter.

People often misread my casual beach bum look and underestimated me. That

was a good thing. Interestingly, there’s something about the way I look that

makes most guys want to start a fight with me. I don’t know if it’s the fact that I

Looks as if I should be singing lead in a boy band or that I’m extremely confident.

Anyway, there’s something about me that makes random strangers want to mix.

it up with me—constantly!

Too bad for them.

An ex-girlfriend once asked me why I love to fight. My answer was simple:

Some guys were born to fix cars or play football. Some guys were born to be

astronauts or to hit a fastball. I was born to fight. It’s the only thing in this world.

That always made perfect sense to me. When I’m in a fight, time stands still. I see

Everything is in slow motion. My brain goes into Good Will Hunting mode, and

I’m able to quickly determine what I want to do to inflict the most damage to my

opponent.

Anyway, I put on a pair of sweats, a t-shirt, and my running shoes. Once

done, I headed outside the house that Tommy and I shared, and did some

stretching next to the tall sycamore tree in the front yard.

I was still stretching when I heard a familiar kee-eeeee-arr cry from above. I

looked up, and there was Daphne. Daphne was a beautiful red hawk that seems

to have developed a fondness for me over the past couple of years. She made

herself known each day by crying her distinctive call or sometimes a shrill

chirk sound while flying low enough, so I could see her. I still have no idea

Where she came from or why she seemed so interested in me? I named her

Daphne one day after watching an episode of Scooby-Doo. They were both

redheads, so the name seemed to fit her. I am known to be partial to

redheaded women.

“I’m off for a run, Daphne; try to keep up with me.”

I gave Daphne a wink and took off running. The beautiful bird let out an

amicable loud chirk as I headed down the street. At first, I went fairly slow.

with my run. Daphne followed me for about a block or two and then pulled back.

I kicked up my heels and began to run at a faster pace. I quickly ran out of the

neighborhood and headed for the main street that led up to Cal State San.

Bernardino. I liked running at college. It was peaceful at night and, as long as

I avoided campus police. I usually had no problems.

I turned left and headed down University Way toward the college. I could

hear loud music, which meant that I was approaching the Gamma Phi Beta frat.

house. They always had a party going on, and this Thursday night there was no

different. Their frat house was a massive two-story white house that stood out

like a sore thumb in a neighborhood that was filled with smaller houses.

As I ran toward the house, I noticed that the party was in full swing. Animal

House style, there were a lot of cars parked out front, and people milling around

outside in various stages of dress, undress, and loudness, depending on how

much alcohol they had consumed. Music thumped from the open front door,

with the bass so loud that the people inside were sure to go deaf for a couple of

days. I hurried past the house, so I wouldn’t have to hear drunk frat boys yelling.

out things like “Run, Forrest, run!”

As I was about to pass the house without incident, underneath the thumping

hip-hop, I heard a chilling scream. The scream was so distinctive and piercing.

That made me stop in my tracks.

I turned around, and as I did so, I heard it again. It was coming from behind.

the house. The gate was open, so I walked toward it. I thought it could just be

college girls having a good time, but then I heard it for a third time. This time, it

was louder and more uneasy.

As I neared the back gate, I saw movement in a window. A young, dark-

haired woman wearing a black dress was desperately opening a window. I

picked up my pace, running now. She wrenched up the window, looked over her

shoulder, and then jumped from the upstairs window.

Holy s**t.

She dropped behind some hedges, where I heard her scream and crash.

through something wooden. She reappeared a moment later, limping badly and

bleeding from fresh scratches along her face and elbows.

She and I reached the side gate about the same time. Amazingly, I recognized

the girl. In fact, we went to high school together at Eisenhower. She was one.

of those girls who had been into Goth and had kept to herself in an emo way. I

saw that she was barefoot, and her black dress was torn at the right shoulder.

Blood oozed from the opening. Her jet-black hair was messy, and she appeared

to have been crying.

I would cry, too, if I had just jumped from the second floor.

I failed to dredge up her name from my memory bank. “Hey, Eisenhower

girl!” I shouted, joyful that I remembered her at all. And then I demanded to

know, “What the hell is going on?”

“It was!” said the Prince; “and how didst thou come to know there was a trap-door?

here?”

“I saw the plate of brass with a gleam of moonshine,” he replied.

“But what told thee it was a lock?” said Manfred. “How didst thou discover the secret?

of opening it?”

“Providence, that delivered me from the helmet, was able to direct me to the spring of

a lock,” said he.

“Providence should have gone a little farther, and have placed thee out of the reach of

my resentment,” said Manfred. “When Providence had taught thee to open the lock, it

abandoned thee for a fool who did not know how to make use of its favors. Why

didst thou not pursue the path pointed out for thy escape? Why didst thou shut the

trap-door before thou hadst descended the steps?”

“I might ask you, my Lord,” said the peasant, “how I, totally unacquainted with your

castle, did I know that those steps led to an outlet? But I scorn to evade your

questions. Wherever those steps lead to, perhaps I should have explored the way—I

could not be in a worse situation than I was. But the truth is, I let the trap-door fall:

Your immediate arrival followed. I gave the alarm— which imported it to me.

whether I was seized a minute sooner or a minute later?”

“Thou art a resolute villain for thy years,” said Manfred; “yet on reflection, I suspect.

thou dost but trifle with me. Thou hast not yet told me how thou didst open the lock.”

“That I will show you, my Lord,” said the peasant; and, taking up a fragment of stone.

that had fallen from above, he laid himself on the trap-door, and began to beat on the

piece of brass that covered it, meaning to gain time for the escape of the

Princess. This presence of mind, joined to the frankness of the youth, staggered

Manfred. He even felt a disposition towards pardoning one who had been guilty of no

crime. Manfred was not one of those savage tyrants who wanton in cruelty.

unprovoked. The circumstances of his fortune had given an asperity to his temper.

which was naturally humane; and his virtues were always ready to operate, when his

Passions did not obscure his reason.

While the Prince was in this suspense, a confused noise of voices echoed through the

distant vaults. As the sound approached, he distinguished the clam mouth of some of his

domestics, whom he had dispersed through the castle in search of Isabella, calling

out—

“Where is my Lord? Where is the Prince?”

“Here I am,” said Manfred, as they came nearer; “have you found the Princess?”

The first that arrived, replied, “Oh, my Lord! I am glad we have found you.”

“Found me!” said Manfred; “have you found the Princess?”

“We thought we had, my Lord,” said the fellow, looking terrified, “but—”

“But, what?” cried the Prince; “has she escaped?”

“Jacque and I, my Lord—”

“Yes, I and Diego,” interrupted the second, who came up in still greater consternation.

“Speak one of you at a time,” said Manfred; “I ask you, where is the Princess?”

“We do not know,” said they both together; “but we are frightened out of our wits.”

“So I think, blockheads,” said Manfred; “what is it has scared you thus?”

“Oh! my Lord,” said Jacque, “Diego has seen such a sight! Your Highness would not

believe our eyes.”

“What new absurdity is this?” cried Manfred; “give me a direct answer, or, by

Heaven—”

“Why, my Lord, if it please your Highness to hear me,” said the poor fellow, “ please

and I—”

“Yes, I and Jacque—” cried his comrade.

“Did not I forbid you to speak both at a time?” said the Prince: “you, Jacque, answer;

for the other fool seems more distracted than thou art; what is the matter?”

“My gracious Lord,” said Jacques, “if it please your Highness to hear me; Diego and I,

according to your Highness’s orders, he went to search for the young Lady; but being

comprehensive that we might meet the ghost of my young Lord, your Highness’s son,

God rest his soul, as he has not received Christian burial—”

“Sot!” cried Manfred in a rage; “is it only a ghost, then, that thou hast seen?”

“Oh! worse! worse! my Lord,” cried Diego: “I had rather have seen ten whole

ghosts.”

“Grant me patience!” said Manfred; “these blockheads distract me. Out of my sight,

Diego! and thou, Jacque, tell me in one word, art thou sober? And thou raving? thou

didn't want to have some sense: make the other sot frightened himself and thee

too? Speak; what is it he fancies he has seen?”

“Why, my Lord,” replied Jacque, trembling, “I was going to tell your Highness, that

From the calamitous misfortune of my young Lord, God rest his precious soul! not

one of us your Highness’s faithful servants—indeed we are, my Lord, though poor

men—I say, not one of us has dared to set foot in the castle, but two together: so

Diego and I, thinking that my young lady might be in the great gallery, went up there.

to look for her, and tell her your Highness wanted something to impart to her.”

“O blundering fool!” cried Manfred; “and in the meantime, she has made her escape.

because you were afraid of goblins!—Why, thou knave! She left me in the gallery; I

came from thence myself.”

“For all that, she may be there still for aught I know,” said Jacque; “but the devil shall

Have me before I see her there again—poor Diego! I do not believe he will ever

recover it.”

“Recover what?” said Manfred; “am I never to learn what it is that has terrified these

rascals?—but I lost time; follow me, slave; I will see if she is in the gallery.”

“For Heaven’s sake, my dear, good Lord,” cried Jacques, “do not go to the

gallery. Satan himself, I believe, is in the chamber next to the gallery.”

Manfred, who hitherto had treated the terror of his servants as an idle panic, was

struck at this new circumstance. He recollected the apparition of the portrait, and the

sudden closing of the door at the end of the gallery. His voice faltered, and he asked

with disorder—

“What is in the great chamber?”

“My Lord,” said Jacque, “when Diego and I came into the gallery, he went first, for he

said he had more courage than I. So when we went into the gallery, we found

nobody. We looked under every bench and stool, and still we found nobody.”

“Were all the pictures in their places?” said Manfred.

“Yes, my Lord,” answered Jacque; “but we did not think of looking behind them.”

“Well, well!” said Manfred; “proceed.”

“When we came to the door of the great chamber,” continued Jacque, “we found it.

shut.”

“And could you not open it?” said Manfred.

“Oh! Yes, my Lord; would to Heaven we had not!” replied he—“nay, it was not I.

neither; it was Diego: he was grown foolhardy, and would go on, though I advised

him not—if ever I open a door that is shut again—”

“Trifle not,” said Manfred, shuddering, “but tell me what you saw in the great

chamber on opening the door.”

“I! my Lord!” said Jacque; “I was behind Diego; but I heard the noise.”

“Jacque,” said Manfred, in a solemn tone of voice; “tell me, I adjure thee by the souls.

of my ancestors, what was it thou awed? What was it thou hardest?”

“It was Diego who saw it, my Lord, it was not I,” replied Jacque; “I only heard the

noise. Diego had no sooner opened the door, than he cried out, and ran back. I ran

back too, and said, ‘Is it the ghost?’ ‘The ghost! no, no,’ said Diego, and his hair

stood on end—‘it is a giant, I believe; he is all clad in Armour, for I saw his feet and

part of his leg, and they are as large as the helmet below in the court.’ As he said

These words, my Lord, we heard a violent motion and the rattling of armour, as if the

giant was rising, for Diego has told me since that he believes the giant was lying.

down, for the foot and leg were stretched at length on the floor. Before we could get

to the end of the gallery, we heard the door of the great chamber clap behind us, but

we did not dare turn back to see if the giant was following us—yet, now I think about it,

We would have heard him if he had pursued us—but for Heaven’s sake, my good Lord,

send for the chaplain, and have the castle exorcised, for, for certain, it is enchanted.”

“Ay, pray do, my Lord,” cried all the servants at once, “or we must leave your

Highness’s service.”

“Peace, dotards!” said Manfred, “and follow me; I will know what all this means.”

“We! my Lord!” cried they with one voice; “we will not go up to the gallery for

your Highness’s revenue.” The young peasant, who had stood silent, now spoke.

“Will your Highness,” said he, “permit me to try this adventure? My life is of

consequence to nobody; I fear no bad angel, and have offended no good one.”

“Your behavior is beyond your seeming,” said Manfred, viewing him with surprise.

and admiration—“hereafter I will reward your bravery—but now,” he continued with

a sigh, “I am so circumstanced, that I dare trust no eyes but my own. However, I give

You leave to accompany me.”

Manfred, when he first followed Isabella from the gallery, had gone directly to the

apartment of his wife, concluding the Princess had retired thither. Hippolita, who

Knowing his step, she rose with anxious fondness to meet her Lord, whom she had not seen.

since the death of their son. She would have flown in a transport mix of joy and

grief to his bosom, but he pushed her rudely off, and said—

“Where is Isabella?”

“Isabella! my Lord!” said the astonished Chipolata.

“Yes, Isabella,” cried Manfred imperiously; “I want Isabella.”

“My Lord,” replied Matilda, who perceived how much his behavior had shocked her.

mother, “she has not been with us since your Highness summoned her to your

apartment.”

“Tell me where she is,” said the Prince; “I do not want to know where she has been.”

“My good Lord,” says Chipolata, “your daughter tells you the truth: Isabella left us by

your command, and has not returned since;—but, my good Lord, compose yourself:

retire to your rest: this dismal day has disordered you. Isabella will wait your for

in the morning.”

“What, then, you know where she is!” cried Manfred. “Tell me directly, for I will do

lose an instant—and you, woman,” speaking to his wife, “order your chaplain to

attend me forthwith.”

“Isabella,” said Chipolata calmly, “is retired, I suppose, to her chamber: she is not

accustomed to watching at this late hour. Gracious my Lord,” continued she, “let me

know what has disturbed you. Has Isabella offended you?”

“Trouble me not with questions,” said Manfred, “but tell me where she is.”

“Matilda shall call her,” said the Princess. “Sit down, my Lord, and resume your

wonted fortitude.”

“What, art thou jealous of Isabella?” replied he, “that you wish to be present at our

interview!”

“Good heavens! my Lord,” said Chipolata, “what is it your Highness means?”

“Thou wilt know ere many minutes are passed,” said the cruel Prince. “Send your

chaplain to me, and wait my pleasure here.”

At these words he flung out of the room in search of Isabella, leaving the amazed

ladies thunderstruck with his words and frantic deportment, and lost in vain

conjectures on what he was meditating.

Manfred was now returning from the vault, attended by the peasant and a few of his

servants whom he had obliged to accompany him. He ascended the staircase without

stopping till he arrived at the gallery, at the door of which he met Chipolata and her

chaplain. When Diego had been dismissed by Manfred

TO BE CONTINUED....