FRESH STORY CONTENT!! 5/17/2022 — Derek Barton – 2022

Hey there! It’s been a while, but I’m back — my stroke recovery is going well. I’m nearly 90% (my hand and my speech needs some more time), but overall, I think it’s time to get back to work!

My main goal this year is to find a way to get more stories out this year and making time to work on several stories at the same time. Which story, you ask? All of them of course. Heh.

Currently I have three stories that I have been adding on to here and there, wanting so badly to write and complete each one, yet I get derailed time and time again. Those projects are: The Flight of The Dirithi series, a new horror story project (working title so far is Days of The Rending) and finally the Third Wyvernshield story. The two fantasy stories are especially way overdue. I seriously thank you for your support and patience. (And… on top of all this, I’m considering an Elude screenplay!)

The plan is to work up at least one day a week a blog with new pages. I will continue to post these blogs up until the last quarter of each book. You can follow along, but keep in mind these will be RAW, uncut gems (only first wave edited) and when the books are actually produced there are bound to be changes, additions and deletions to the material.

I hope by publishing some new content every week this will force me to make headway on all three novels. One caveat, I have to rewrite my outline for the third Wyvernshield book so it may take me a while before you see a blog with that storyline.

Today I will go ahead and give you an exciting new chapter in my latest horror story. Next week I will start at the intro and reprint my opening chapter of The Flight of The Dirithi so you can refresh yourselves on that one.

I will title each of these blogs as Fresh Content and date them so you can be sure you are on the right one.

Again thank you for all your kindness during my recovery and I truly appreciate the well-wishes!!


Chapter One

Sammy Samuels wasn’t bothered by the late-night Philly air. In fact, he rather enjoyed its touch of briskness. Made him feel more alive on his walks home. His breath plumed, funneling out and trailed behind the old man’s head. As he walked along the street, he whistled an old favorite R & B tune to himself. A large smile was stretched across his face. There were touches of gray along the edges of his afro. In his left hand, he held a smoldering, snubbed cigar and in the other, he carried a bottle of Jimmy Bean Bourbon.

As Sammy crested the hill on Jacobson St., he first spotted it. He nearly skidded to a stop, and he stiffened in spite of himself. “Wow. What in the hell is that?” he muttered under his breath.

At the bottom, in the hollow, at the corner of Jacobson and Alan Derry St., sat one of the ugliest statues he’d ever seen in his life. It was of a dog, a large one like a German Shepherd. It was placed to sit facing back up at the hill. The streetlamp overhead gave it a wide spotlight of yellowish light. The statue’s fur a natural patchwork of tan, brown and black. However, above its snout was a red plastic mask, white X’s over its eyes.  

Never seen that here before, he mused. Sick joke or something.

He didn’t find it amusing. He’d come down this way a few times before from Delta Blues Liquor Store if he had to – when he’d miss the last running Metro bus like he did tonight. He was sure he’d have noticed that gawdy thing.

Sammy shook his head, chuckled, and returned to whistling his favorite song. One of them millennial artists musta placed it there recently. Prolly got some sort of statement and story behind it. Nowadays, everyone got something to say, an opinion that everyone just has to listen to!

He shook his head once more disdainfully.  At halfway down the hill, he stopped abruptly again. He nearly dropped his half-finished bottle. To the right of the street and sitting dutifully on both sides of a door were two more of the statues. Same red masks with the white Xs, different shades of fur. The pair were placed in front of Rawley’s Deli.

Sammy instinctively glanced to the left to see if there were dog statues posted as the others. Nothing. As habit, he scratched one temple with an index finger as he stood confused.

Instead of more statues, he found a small alley entrance, cluttered by two tall brick buildings and several brown, city garbage bins. A flickering light hung off one building but it was further back at the end.

He looked back at the three dogs one by one, looking for a poster or sign to further elaborate on the work’s meanings. Nothing.

Sammy shrugged, took a long swig from the bottle which he followed with a deep drag from his cigar.

He stepped forward, cursing the way the world was so over-populated with opinionated assholes and full of self-righteousness these darkening days, when he saw the fourth dog statue. It was sitting motionless next to the first one at Jacobson St.

The bottle dropped and shattered at his feet. He blurted, “What da hell?” Where did that one come from?

The dogs tilted their heads together, slowly to the right as dogs do as if listening to his inner questions.

Sammy’s heart raced and his chest tightened with sudden fear. He took an involuntary step backward. Swiveling his head to the left then right, he looked to see if anyone else happened to be out in this late hour. He prayed he would spy someone — anyone – and not another dog statue!

Were they statues? The shocking question bubbled up in his mind.

No one else was out, most of the store fronts were dark and closed up. Due to the recent cold spell, no one was out or near the apartment buildings or out on their stoops.

Three more dogs appeared. They lazily strolled out from another alleyway ahead of him, walking in a line. They sat upon their haunches, sitting on the sidewalk in formation, then they too tilted their heads in question.

Almost like they asking me ‘what the fuck you gonna do, old man? What’s your thoughts?’

His tongue snaked out quick and wet his lips. Sammy had grown up on the streets and had toughened it out, surviving many fights and ambushes. He was cagey, yet it had been some time since he’d had to use those skills.

Whatcha gonna do?

He lurched forward to the left, but after two steps, he stutter-stepped then spun on his sneaker heals, to bolt back up the hill as fast as his arthritic joins would carry him. When he topped it, a fist caught him squarely in the nose and rocked him off his feet. He never saw it coming. Helplessly, he tumbled backwards and rolled along the street’s gutter.

When he came to a stop at the bottom, Sammy sputtered and spit blood as he laid panting heavily on his back. He moaned but held out a motioning hand in the air. “Wait! Wait please.”

His hand dropped down and rummaged in his jean’s pocket. He produced a faded tan leather wallet, thin and very used.

“I ain’t got much, mister, but it’s your’s,” he said as he waved it out. He kept his eyes squeezed shut.

However, no one took his wallet. Nothing was said.  He didn’t hear dog or man.

“Look! It’s okay. I get it. But I didn’t see you, only your dogs. I can’t ID you. I wouldn’t. Hell, dude, who’s gonna believe an old drunk anyway. You take what I have, just don’t hurt me anymore, okay?”

Someone snapped their fingers.

Sammy heard the approach of soft patter of paws. The old man gulped and held brave to the thought he’d be alright. He’d be home soon, safe and relaxing in his comfy recliner and eating a microwave dinner in a quick hour. You’ll see. They’ll leave ya alone as you ain’t got nothin’.

He tried to ignore the painful sharp stings as their jaws clamped onto his wrists. As well, he didn’t resist as they dragged him toward the empty, shadowy alley. Inside the alley’s dark confines, more jaws snapped close upon his limbs.

Lord, I’ve been a good man for some time now. Please see me through this, he prayed inside. While he did have a strong faith, he also believed in the idea that the blessed be those who help themselves too.

He opened one eye then the other. The pack of dogs surrounded him, their hot breaths baked his skin. Their fur was spikey, greasy and matted with mud and feces. A rotted, fetid stench from their breath and bodies soured his stomach, nearly making him vomit. His arms and legs held aloft by two dogs each. They were keeping him down but hadn’t actually torn at him, only imprisoning him. The person who struck him on the street was nowhere in sight.

“What? Hello?” Sammy’s voice was shaky and shrill, pleading.

As an answer a massive jaw griped his thin throat, choking him. Trickles of blood droplets dripped to the dirty concrete beneath him.

A gravely yet smug voice called out from somewhere above Sammy. “Samuel Jeremiah Samuels. Born in 1948, survived a pair of ex-wives. Father to two sons who you haven’t spoken to in years. Retired as a building engineer when we all know you were just a glorified handyman. Now pitiful, broke and useless to all around him.” The voice droned on other trivial in the same masculine and judgmental tirade. A pair of slick, lime green boots slowly appeared next to his head. They were wet and caked in odd, slimy mud that smelled faintly fishy or maybe wormy.

“What do you want? Lemme go! You have no right to do this to me!” Sammy weakly gasped out from under the mane of the dog.

“Oh Sammy. Really going to go there? Deep down you know what’s happening. You know what I’m doing and why. It’s your Judgment Day. No right? No, sir, I have every right and from the day you first understood your ol’ mama’s words — she taught you that sins pile up and you’d one day have to atone.”

“Bullshit,” the weak dismissal didn’t have much strength behind it.

A flash of memory popped in Sammy’s head. It was of the Sunday, he’d been five years old and had been caught with his two friends trying to snake out dollar bills from the church’s tithe baskets while everyone was supposed to be in Sunday School. His Granny Josie had used a thin tree branch to deliver his punishment followed up with a fifteen-minute sermon on sinnin’ and doin’ the devil’s work. The Devil to Sammy became the worst of the world’s boogeymen to him, but the world had a multitude of monsters to keep him up at night. Whoever his attacker was, he was right about him, he knew what sinning was from an early age.

Another snap of fingers.

Excruciating pain filled Sammy. Every nerve inside shrieked with agony, muscles and skin tore, blood poured or fountained all about the alley. His screams were muffled and garbled by the penetrating fangs in his throat. His limbs flailed and writhed but were not released.

An orange aura of energy flowed over him, white flickering lightning bolts popped and lit up the alley. It blinded him so he couldn’t see much of the shadowy dark profile standing over him anyways.

“I can keep you like this as long as I want, Sammy. I won’t let you die, you see you cannot escape me so easily. You cannot outlast me either. It’s a new trick I picked up. This pain, this Rending of your soul, can last for eternity. I have brought your mama’s Hell to you!” the Dark Form laughed.

Then Sammy’s Granny Josie’s voice howled out of his mouth, “Sammy! Sammy, you stop livin’ like this, you be a good man. Those gangs are not for you. They pretendin’ to be your family. They usin’ you up and will throw you away just as easy! Stop your sinnin’!”

Those were the actual words she had used when she bailed him out the third time. The drive home had seemed torturous and infinite to him. But now… after she was long gone and buried, the words seemed like purity and wisdom. If only it hadn’t been another four years before he straightened up and wanted more in life.

The laughter continued as the pain ratcheted up. The dogs yanked and thrust all about, tearing his arms from the elbow joints first then the shoulders. His legs were severed at the ankles then gnawed apart at the knees.

The Dark Form’s words oozed into his ears, the menacing tone flooded him over the sounds of his screams and begging pleas for mercy. “This will all end, you’ll be forgiven if you only say the words. You only need to give everything to Her.  Appeals for mercy are sweet and savory, but She demands more! Give Her all, follow what you are told. If you ask for Her name, I’ll give it to you and then you can be released. Can you do that, Sammy? Are you going to beg me for Her name and Her mercy?”

The jaws at his throat tightened further and crushed his windpipe. Blood poured up and out of his mouth, splattering his face and chest. His skull cracked hard on the concrete as it separated from his shoulders. Agony and fire filled his mind, consuming him.


As two hounds gnawed at his face and ears, pulling and stretching, Sammy gave in, he bent to Her will. TELL ME HER NAME, I AM HER’S. PLEASE STOP!!

The Dark Form complied.

It didn’t stop the relentless mauling right away.

Dogs were at his neck, drinking and lapping up his blood. Others were eating his intestines and finding other organ delicacies. His genitals were caught in a vicious three-way tug of war.

All of it, Samuel Jeremiah Samuels felt and heard in a suspended state of life.

The Dark Form snapped its fingers once more. The carnage came to a bloody, frothy end. The Rending ceased.

“Your life is over as you know it. Your life and oath are bound to us now. You will serve, but you will serve…” the sentence of damnation was paused then a single word was uttered. This time Sammy felt it rather than heard.


Sammy laid unconscious, breathing shallowly in the dirt of the alley for a few hours behind the garbage bins. Eventually, he sat up and looked around him. He was alone. No dog or man. He absently scratched at his temple, stood and hugged his arms to his chest. It was still cold that early Philadelphia morning as he made the rest of his trip home.

EVADE Audible 3- Part Series COMPLETE! — Derek Barton – 2021

That’s right, Great news! The last part of Evade has been produced on Audible.

You can now hear the whole series on audio, crafted by the stellar voice talents of Ashley Ulery.

The balance for Evil has tipped in Hell’s favor…

On the day Detective Lindsey Korrey should be celebrating the closure of her biggest case, The Nurse Catcher, she’s caught up in an intense police car chase.

Rory, a missing child case of three years, has fallen under her protection. Someone — or something — wants him back.
Chased down and hunted by a supernatural enemy, Lindsey must evade capture at any cost.

Yet their road is full of hidden dangers. The Seekers emerge out of every shadow…around every corner…

With twists and turns, extraordinary characters, action, suspense, and a mystery with pulse-pounding revelations, EVADE will take your breath away and leave you wanting –needing to know more!

For Audible click here:

Only $6.95 per part for non-members!!!

12 MONTHS OF HELL & HORROR! – Derek Barton – 2020


I have just created and submitted a new one-of-a-kind 2021 Calendar/Day Planner & Horror Story Collection — It’s called 12 Months of Hell & Horror!

Yeah, I was inspired by the twelve months of hell & horror we went through this year!

Inside you’ll find 6 short stories with original illustrations by my father, T.D. Barton. You will also have 365-day journal pages as well as 12 calendar pages with an Important Day Notes section.

It will be available within a day or two on Amazon for only $11.99!! It will make a great gift for you or any reader you know. BUY NOW to keep organized and thrilled for the entire coming year!!

Writing Prompt #7 — It Growls From the Corner — Derek Barton – 2020

My eyes open instantly to pitch darkness. My heart races, pumped with an instinctual fear. I clutch the sheets of the bed, my breath caught tight in my throat.

I wait. Listening. There was something. A sound. A noise.


It takes me a moment to even realize where I am. Then it comes back slowly in bits. I was in my late cousin Richard’s farm house. He left it to me and several days before, I had moved in, with hopes of renovating the small ranch house.

Two days in to the renovations.

The lights were off, the windows shuttered. The dead farmland blanketed with its night shawl. The only light source came from a light pole next to the battered barn in back of the house. A ring of ash trees encirled most of the property.

Air stale and still filled the room. Soft light rays filtered down from one partially open window in the living room and dust floated aimlessly in its illumination.

“Hello?” I whisper, my lips dry, my cotton tongue sticking to the roof of my mouth.

“Hello?” I venture once more, praying I don’t get a response.

Seconds bleed into minutes, minutes grow into moments. Nothing responds. Time lapses.

One bizarre note catches my attention. I don’t hear anything. No crickets, no late night song birds, no distant cars on the I-77 highway. Even the wind is holding its breath. What the hell?

However, I do ease my grip on the sheets and sigh in relief. Maybe it was a nightmare with the last fragments waking me. I can’t quite yet laugh at myself and the fear that seized me.

New place, new sounds. Just a case of heebie-jeebies.

I raise onto my elbows.


The sound pierces me. It came straight out of the corner, draped in deep shadows. A low rumbling growl follows the hiss. A distinct scrape of claws on the wood floor boards makes the hair on the back of my neck raise.

I freeze up all over again, my breath locked in my chest.

My eyes strain to make out a form in the dark. Nothing. It’s like a gaping hole torn into the bedroom space, swallowing up the entire corner.

It’s close. I should be able to see whatever the thing is! Dammit, why can’t I see it? I can’t run. The corner is near the doorway.

What is it? A mountain lion? A rabid wolf? A feral stray dog? What is in my house?

No more noises, no more clues to what it is.

I don’t try to speak again to it. It’s obvious it isn’t human so there’s no real point. My mind floods with bad ideas, desperate ploys, nothing that will get me away.

Moments again drag out. I pull my legs slowly up, curling my form into a better shielded form. Another growl, deep in its chest protests my movement.

Eyes, silvery and large open up. The space between the eyes at least five inches apart. Then heat and a bitter stench of foul breath wafts over me. Whatever is staring at me, just opened its jaws. I think I can hear the bare sounds of panting.

I brace my hands at my sides against the bed and raise with my back pressed to the wall. Standing seems like my only viable option. It gives me a half a chance if this thing rushes me.

Again from inside the shadows, the unseen beast doesn’t like my movement and it hisses violently, pawing aggressively at the floor. I hear its claws, I see it’s eyes, smell it’s breath, but yet there’s no form, nothing in the corner!

At the end of the bed, I left another window open for the summer breezes. A thin metal screen is the only thing on the window. Do I dare plunge through it before this thing is upon me?

It somehow senses my thoughts and it shifts subtly, the shadows moving with it. Now a couple feet closer to the end of the bed, it sits midway between the door, the end of the bed and the window.

This tells me one thing. It’s intelligent, but it is also waiting on me to make my move. Yet I feel I have already lost this game of strategy before I even woke up.

I try to summon my dwindling courage. Sweat streams down my neck and chest. I bend slightly, coiling my leg muscles.

The beast stands! I still can’t make out any form, but the shadow grows taller and towers over me, the “head” touching the dusty ceiling. Oh god!

It makes no other move. The ball has come back into my court. My plan for the open window has been shattered.

“Wh- What are you? What do you want?” My voice shakes as violent as my body.

s h e l t e r

The voice carries across to me but speeds through me like a gun shot. It gores my senses and I reel in sudden dizziness and nausea. My legs give out and I collaplse in a heap by the pillows.

Shelter? What does that mean?

“I don’t understand.” I moan. “You want to stay in the house?”

It’s useless to try and escape. My fate is in this things claws. There’s no choice but to listen to it’s demands.

I watch in pure terror as it slowly strides across the room, the floorboards creaking under its weight. Shadows stretching and wrapping around my neck and over my screaming mouth.

Lifted in the air as a smothering sensation wracks me, a burning agony doubles me over in its grasp, a lightning icy claw rakes across my back.

Tumbling from its hold, I hit the bed, then tumble to the floor with the words,

w e s h e l t e r h e r e

searing into my brain.

Hours later, as sunlight drifts in and warms my exposed legs and feet. My eyes open and stare up at the room’s dust-covered ceiling fan. A hunger, a need, a blood-thirsty craving growls inside me. My head raises and stares at the far wall.

s e r v e

Etched into the faded green wallpaper are symbols, plans and demands. None that I understand or want to comprehend.

Inside, it reads the words. It knows its purpose.

s h e l t e r a n d s e r v e

It growls again from the dark corners of my tattered soul.

Preview Rough Draft Chapter for Evade Part III — Derek Barton – 2020

Craving to see what’s in-store for you (and Lindsey and the others from Evade Part Three)?

Here you go… Enjoy!!

Twin embers opened before us, hunting in the pitch dark. The glowing orbs were frenzied but not yet looking in our direction.

Another four sets of eyes appeared, joining the others. The Seekers were about thirty yards ahead, at the intersection of a fork of subway tunnels. They had their backs to Sasha and I, crouching and peering down the length of the tunnels. Our escape was to the left but obviously blocked.

Behind us, we escorted a young tween, Bethany Phelps, her elderly guardian, Kenneth Gerard, and a fellow detective, Detective Josh Matthews. They hadn’t seen any of the Seekers as of yet.

Or experienced the supernatural taint the Seekers carried about them.

We ordered them to crouch and stay hidden under a rickety set of steps leading up to a catwalk storage built along the tunnel’s ceiling while Sasha and I scouted ahead.

My watch showed it was 6:25 PM. Only twenty minutes had passed since Commander Hoyt Leoi shouted through his radio at them when they were behind their makeshift barricade. “Detective Korrey. Come in.” His voice was a much calmer and steady tone than when I spoke to him after the earlier explosion. It seemed he regained some of his composure.

“Commander Leoi, I’m here,” I replied to him, trying to match his even cadence.

“A beige and metallic gold Chevrolet is coming south, down York Avenue. Its pace has slowed — they may be looking for the gate entrance to the property. Do any of the 27th Crew own or drive a gold Chevy Caprice that you know of?”

I remembered this was Detective Matthews’ personal car. He must’ve taken it to avoid any suspicion when he drove Bethany and Kenneth to our location.

“They are with us. I instructed Detective Matthews to come here as he has vital information I need. Pass this along — he is not to be fired upon!” 

“Am I to understand he has information that cannot be told over the cell phone or even the classified radio lines?” Leoi’s attitude and condescending tones had also returned.

“Commander Leoi, do you have anything further to report or do you remain in Green Status?” 

A bit of a pause — maybe to do some meditation or breathing exercises? Finally, he replied, “No changes to report. I will let you know when the car is at your tunnel entrance. Over.”

Three minutes later, he called back and said Detective Matthews was parked near our tunnel. Sasha and I raced out in the dark to escort Matthews and the civilians back to our makeshift barricade. 

We hadn’t anticipated the Seekers would find a way to get behind us without being detected.

Sasha, a slim black woman with her hair pulled tightly back, leaned in close to my face and whispered, “There’s another one, hiding by the pile over there. Do you see him?” She pointed.

The tall stature of a man stood motionless apart from the others, but his eyes were partially concealed by his coat hood.

“He makes six then,” I answered. “Officially, we’re out numbered.”

“I’ve got maybe seven or eight rounds.”

“No. We don’t need to shoot them.” I was put off by her quick response to kill. “We don’t have any idea how many are around – it will only alert them to our position. I think we can do this a better way. Go back, tell them what we are seeing, and keep them quiet where they are. I’ll distract and lead—”

“I’m faster. I should lead those damn things away.”

“You are faster. That’s why I want you to take the group to safety. They haven’t even seen anything like these Seekers before. They’ll need your prodding for sure. Your speed and actions could be critical if you’re needed immediately.”

I kept an anxious eye on the affected humans. They were restless and seemed to sense our presence somewhere near them. From what I detected, the search party of Seekers were led by the tall man, joined by two adult women and three teenagers of close age. I worried about the speed of those teens.

I continued to spell out my plan. “I’m going to run past your position, back down the tunnel. Remember the stack of oil barrels? I’ll hide behind them and loop back. But, once we clear the area, take everyone as fast as possible to the barricade. Understood?”

She shrugged but not overly enthusiastic. 

“I’ll give you time to get back to them now.” I stopped and gripped her shoulder. “Do not kill anyone, okay?” I left her with that and inched forward, using the darker shadows of the wall for cover.

Now, as the prospect of facing the six supernatural Seekers alone hit me, the moldy walls closed in on me. The idea was beyond daunting and my legs trembled as my plan grew weaker in my mind.

It was time, stalling and worrying now was pointless and even dangerous. I jumpstarted my efforts by kicking over a rotting wooden crate in front of me. With amazing agility, they spun and charged all together toward the sudden noise. I bolted down the tunnel with a paranoid certainty the Seekers were right on my heels. They barely huffed with their exertion.

The stack of oil barrels I mentioned before were barely visible and highlighted only by a dirty skylight ahead. I zipped in around the barrels and stood silently with my back to the cold metal containers. This section of the tunnel had been a small hub and a single-track platform. The Seekers came in mere seconds after me.

They gathered in the center of the intersection and hesitated, listening for which direction I went in.

I heard a soft hiss through clenched teeth. The Tall Man started to lead the group down the single-track. As the last of them climbed off the platform, a crash of metal and curses echoed along the tunnels. I recognized Detective Matthews’ voice. He must’ve tripped over something.

It was enough…

I leaned over, spying into the dark subway. The gang of Seekers were once more huddled together.

Shit!! Sasha’s group was definitely heard, soon to be hunted for again.

Tall Man pointed and three of the Seekers went back to the platform ladder. He split the group as he vanished with the others into the shadows still pursuing my presumed trail.

I shot out and took a winding tunnel left of the oil barrels. The three hissed and howled at my fleeing image.

This unknown passage grew suddenly dark as we ran further away from the skylights. Growing blind with each stride, I dug into my pocket, scrambling to pull out my cell phone. I managed to punch the flashlight symbol on the phone and its brilliance lit up the way. The light bounced, shadows leaped and danced as I thrust the cell out before me.

Our training in the police academy as rookies and other courses we took along the way for field experience ingrained in us a strict discipline to focus only on the path ahead and keep your emotions buried. It applied to either case of when you were the hunter or the prey being chased. However, fear and panic coursed through me. My thoughts lost in a jumble of chaos. I had no idea what they would do with me if I were caught.

Their footfalls and the scrapes of their shoes or boots clearly informed me of their hot pursuit. And they were gaining…

My own footsteps were louder now as I splashed through large puddles of water, recent storm runoff. Slick mud at the edges of the water nearly took my feet out from under me and I slid with my momentum into a bank of slimy walls. I bounced and continued to look for other doorways, tunnels openings or even catwalk stairs to find a place to hide. Anything.

My flight ended abruptly as the tunnel curved to the far left and narrowed considerably.  A set of wire fences were erected and chained shut to prevent further trespass. Beyond the fence was a large chamber used to hold piles of garbage and storage for what look like torn-out subway chairs. I shoved my phone back into my jeans and launched myself high onto the fence. Climbing toward a narrow opening at the top, I wanted to get over it and lose the Seekers among the piles.

As I hefted my right leg over the top, my jeans suddenly snagged and tore at the cuff as it caught the edge of the fencing. A woman in her early twenties, skinny and with pale blonde hair leaped up and clasped a pair of ashy hands on my left leg. The heat from her hands baked through my clothing as her eyes blazed bright staring at me. A need or deep craving floated in that penetrating stare as she leaned back, using her weight to haul me back over to their side. The other two joined her on the fence and climbed toward me.

Desperately I leaned with my own weight the other way, my body precariously hanging in balance at the top.

Riiiipppppp! The cheap jean’s material gave way, releasing my right leg and sending me diving toward the ground on the other side of the fence.

I screamed in sheer surprise, braced for the impact only to have the wind blasted from me as my shoulder hit the ground. I exploded through the rotted floorboards and fell another fifteen feet or so to the subway level beneath. I saw a brief flash of light from a hanging lightbulb. My plunge continued as my weight crashed through another level of ancient wood flooring. I was diving headlong into the depths of the subway system!

I never saw the next floor as my vision and the world around me were eclipsed and swallowed in total darkness.

On a positive, I didn’t feel the impact either.

EVADE Part One BOOK RELEASE!! — Derek Barton – 2020

In case you haven’t heard or haven’t seen my latest newsletter (Hey?  Why aren’t you on my email list? Thought we were friends! hahaha).




The balance for Evil has tipped in Hell’s favor…

On the day Detective Lindsey Korrey should be celebrating the closure of her biggest case, The Nurse Catcher, she’s caught up in an intense police car chase.

Rory, a missing child case of three years, has fallen under her protection. Someone — or something — wants him back.

Chased down and hunted by a supernatural enemy, Lindsey must evade capture at any cost.

Yet their road is full of hidden dangers.

The Seekers emerge out of every shadow…around every corner…

With twists and turns, extraordinary characters, action, suspense, and a mystery with pulse-pounding revelations, EVADE will take your breath away and leave you wanting –needing to know more!

Ebook $2.99       Paperback $7.99

EVADE Trailer 2020



In Four Days…(part 4)



I woke up late this afternoon; of course from a nightmare.  Or am I still in the nightmare?  Things are blurring together now and I don’t know if I can tell what’s real any more.

When I popped open my laptop, this message nearly stopped my heart:


blog-pic-14First of the Year’s Snowstorms Expected to Cripple Philadelpha

A massive snowstorm that has devastated the city of Halifax, Nova Scotia and most of the state of Maine is now heading for the Northeast U.S. Coast.  This storm is expected to break all-time snowfall records for Pennsylvania – Philadelphia (14.8 inches), Pittsburg (13.1 inches) and Scranton (13.8 inches).  Many residents have been advised of an emergency curfew and restricted to their homes and off of roads.  Officials fear for extensive power outages up and down the coastlines. 


Every light and lamp I own has been plugged in and turned on in my tiny bedroom.  My four somewhat used and somewhat sharp kitchen knives are laid out on my bed.  The .380 pistol my brother in New Jersey bought me lays in my lap like a pet, a twisted replacement for Rayray.

The coffee table gave up its life to be nailed into the wall and placed across the window.  The doors are all locked.

My thoughts race around the last line of the article.  Officials fear for extensive power outages…

Deep down, I don’t believe any of this will be enough to stop him.  He’s coming.  I don’t know why or what he wants.  But… this is the fourth day!

It has snowed all night so far.   Worst case scenario would be if the pow

Taken and reposted from Amara Rico’s Facebook Page – January 29th, 2016

The above posts from Rosalina Rico were the last entries on my sister’s laptop.  A welfare check made on January 25th by the local authorities found her apartment door open; snow and mud covered a lot of the living room.  It seems that the door had been open during most of the three-day storm.

One officer at the scene relayed to me that they did find three bullet holes in one of her bedroom walls.

Her family prays for her safety and requests any help or information you can give.

Please call 1-888-772-6600 — 24 hour hotline.

In Four Days…(part 3)





Last night, my nerves got the best of me so I took Rayray out of the apartment and we rode into town.  I wanted to be with people and in the public view.  

I had been wracking my head trying to figure out what was happening.  Was this just some creep with a flair for theatrics?  Was this something worse?  Or could I be having a breakdown of sorts?  

I needed to know and I had this sinking feeling that time was running out for me. Nothing on the internet had given me any clue of what I am dealing with.  

On the freeway we encountered a huge traffic jam.  While it delayed us for about an hour, being surrounded by a dozen or so cars crammed with people helped and I felt the most secure that I have been since my world unfolded.

It was the weekend and on Friday nights they always have a large live music gathering inside the pavilion at East Fairmont Park.  My ex-boyfriend Tad used to take me there, mainly to score a bag of weed while I listened to the music.  It should be overcrowded and well lit.  Perfect and just what I want.

On Cranston Heights Boulevard, I pulled into the B*** of A******’s parking lot to get cash.  The park’s ticket booths weren’t set up for cards and I always liked tipping some of the street performers as well.  At its east corner was an ATM in a small glass enclosure attached to the main building.  The enclosure was nothing more than a carpeted rectangle with the ATM in its back wall, a small trashcan and plant.  Next to the machine, a single door marked STAIRS.

Two street lamps bookend the ATM and blanketed the lot with bright light.  I had become very sensitive to knowing where all the lights were, scanning the surroundings and took nothing for granted.  I was taking note of everything.

Rayray whined as he sensed my apprehension and he stayed obediently at my heels as we crossed the lot and entered the small room.  

Inside, the air was warm and stale – a heating vent blew directly overhead in between two sets of track lights.  

“Oh.. oh.. shit, no!” I muttered as I rummaged through my cluttered purse – my debit card was not in its slot in my wallet.  I finally found it buried in a side pocket and I slid it into the machine with a heavy sigh.  

The ATM chimed loudly as it accepted the card.  The screen suddenly blinked at me and then turned off.

The machine chimed again.

My heart began to pound. I glanced over my shoulder to see the empty lot behind me.


I couldn’t believe I left myself alone and open once again!

Another chime from the machine behind me.

That’s three chimes… my brain screamed at me.

I backed up against it just as the street lamp on the right of the ATM enclosure burst into a shower of sparks, followed up by the lamp on the left. The lot fell under a cloak of absolute darkness.  Death was surely perched to pounce upon me if I left the enclosure.

“Oh my god, Rayray, what is he?”  I moaned. “What am I going to do?”

The room grew colder, the air itself denser.  The track lighting sets flickered and then died too.

One more chime signaled his presence.

Rayray growled and his fur bristled as he stepped in front of me.

On pure instinct, I bolted for the door marked as STAIRS.  He was not getting next to me ever again!  

A sudden blast of icy wind came from the open door behind me as he broke into the enclosure.

“Rayray come!”  I screeched as I lunged through the STAIRS door and descended the steps.  

Behind me,  the STAIRS door slammed shut.  I had no idea where this stairwell was leading me to, but I couldn’t think straight at this point.  

Parallel lines of fluorescents on the walls began to explode as I approached them.  The blackness followed at my heels like a stalking wolf.    

But even blind I ran or stumbled on – I think I traveled down almost five flights to the bottom.  There I found only a chained door with a tiny window looking out at an abandoned underground parking lot.  I waited helpless and shivering against it.  Sitting in the cold, trapped in a pit while the abomination hunted above for me.

What would come next?  I realized that I could hear absolutely nothing.  No wind, no breathing, no sounds of traffic.  Not even the ATM chimes.

He isn’t gone.  I knew this deep in the core of my being.  He wasn’t done with me.  

Or did he already kill me and this is death? Laying blind in the cold?  The thought raced through my mind before I could contain it.  Perhaps I am already lying in my coffin and I don’t even know it?

I stared up into the black maw of the stairwell.  

Then a brief hope flickered in my head.  I began to rummage through my purse again, feeling around.

My fingers finally curled around my prize just as a sound echoed down to me.

Drip…. Drippp…. Dripppp….

I wondered if the ceiling maybe had sprung a leak, but that just seemed unlikely.

And it wasn’t raining when we came into the bank!  My brain screamed at me once again.

Drip…. Drippp…. Dripppp….

The steady patter of drops grew stronger and splashed loudly on the cement floor in front of my legs.  A stream of drops formed into a puddle.

Then just behind the sounds of the drops, I heard his heavy, dragging footsteps.

Squellccchhh…. Sqquueeelllccchhhhh

His muck-covered boots stuck to the metal stairs.  Was he pouring something over the steps?

When he got to the landing just above mine, the drops finally faltered and came to a stop. Something heavy was then dropped at his feet.  

I held my breath; my heart nearly bursting from the confines of my chest and waited for the words I knew were coming.

“Two days… I will hav–”

I was better prepped this time – I raised a pen flashlight I had carried in the purse and clicked the flashlight on.  The small beam of light cut through the gloom and illuminated the landing – a towering, shadowy figure stood there in a hooded, black rain slicker, mud-caked jeans tucked into mucked over boots.   He roared and his shape swirled away from the beam and his features bled into the dark shadows of the stairwell.

But as I said before – I SAW THE BASTARD’S FACE!

The skin of his cheeks were leathery and drawn, pulled down tight toward his chest. His chin covered in coarse grey and brown hair.  His bluish lips were thin and his mouth pressed tight into a single line.  The nose was very thin, beak-like and cleft at the end.  

But the eyes, the eyes… were missing.  There were three, empty black hollow sockets; one sitting on two in some skeletal-like pyramid.  

I think I fainted.  I don’t remember even how I got back to my apartment.  

I don’t even know where Rayray is.  I am all alone…

In Four Days…(part 2)

Dark Elevator


I am not sure how long I laid on the floor of that bathroom.  Maybe it was shock, maybe it was disbelief that had just happened or maybe it was just embarrassment – Either way, I didn’t report it or call the police.  I didn’t want to believe it myself, let alone trying to convince anyone else.

Rayray, my rottweiler, must’ve thought it was his lucky night as I had him sleep in my bed.

That next morning, I considered calling in as I hid under the comforter.  It felt unnaturally cold in the bedroom.

“You know! You know it was just security, right Rayray? Just another asshole guard trying to be big and bad.  Prove he’s got the balls and the badge.”  The dog only whined and pawed at my foot.

“Yeah, I know. Get up and get to work.”


I yawned and drank from another hot coffee as I waited for the elevator to come.  Yeah, another!  Don’t judge. 

A rusting sedan went by slowly and worked its way down the row of parked cars.  The parking garage was windy; my breath plumed in the brisk morning air.  I was a bit early – it was 7:22 am.

Again, I chided myself for living yet another winter in Pennsylvania.  My mother and brother lived just outside Miami.  That’s where I should be – not standing here in this refrigerator!

The bell signaled the elevator car arrived and the doors slid open.  I walked in and flicked the dead cigarette from my hand behind me.

As the doors closed behind me, I wondered aloud, “Did I leave the reports on the printer or did I even get those to my desk before…”  I didn’t finish the sentence.  Finishing meant completing the thought and the thought scared the living shit out of me.  LAST NIGHT NEVER HAPPENED!

Instead of talking more to myself which is a bad habit of mine, I pushed for floor 8.

At floor 4 the overhead lights bloomed brighter and buzzed like a beehive.

At floor 5 the elevator jerked once.


Floor 6 dead stop.  The elevator brakes screeched angry.

Like anyone else would in that situation, I banged repeatedly at the buttons.  Hammering the open door button.  Nothing worked.

“REALLY?” I shouted.  “After last night, now I am about to get stuck in an elevator?”

I hit the intercom button next.  “Hello? Can you help me?”

No response.

Suddenly the elevator belled chimed, but the car didn’t move.  It was still on floor 6.

“Hey out there!  Can you get me out?  Get help!” I started slapping my hands on the metal doors.

Normally, I don’t get claustrophobic or even nervous inside elevators.  But I was still a ball of nerves from the encounter the night before and this just didn’t feel right.

The elevator bell chimed again.

I shivered as it was somehow getting colder in the tiny elevator.

Hitting the intercom again, I screamed, “WAKE THE FUCK UP!! GET ME OUT OF HERE!!”

Another bell chime and then the lights cut out.  Once more I was standing in complete darkness, scared witless.

Then the elevator doors opened slowly.  The lobby on the 6th floor was also pitch black.  Nothing could still be seen, only heard.

Do I run?  What’s happening?  I began to hyperventilate.  Where are all the lights?

A fourth bell chime.

The elevator floor shifted with new weight – someone had stepped inside next to me!  They never said a word.

I held my breath for what seemed hours, tears streamed down my face.

He was back.  And deep down, I knew he would be.  I could hear his wispy breathing, smell the grey-green muck from his boots and feel his eyes crawl all over me!

I was completely frozen in place.

Right by my left ear, “Three days… I will have you in three days.”

Screaming like I was on fire, I bolted out of the elevator and down the hallway of floor 6.




Two hours later, security (my “heroes”) found me balled up under a desk in the Payroll Department.  I had bitten each of my fingernails off and somehow tore the skin off three toes when I lost my shoes.

Work has imposed a “vacation” for my own good, however, they did admit to me that they found mud tracks in the hall and elevator.

Today is January 22nd — the third day since this started.  I won’t let Rayray leave my side in the apartment and I keep my cell phone charging.

I am not insane (I wish I was. Then there was a chance for a cure or some wonder drugs to put me into a stupor!).  Nothing like his has ever happened to me and no one in my family has ever had issues with mental health.  I don’t do drugs or drink much and live a pretty normal, healthy life.  I am so lost!

It never occurred to me how many times a day that I am alone.  We all are alone at least six to a dozen different times during the day.  Car rides, bathroom breaks, eating in the breakroom, working late at your job, shopping through the clothes rack in the store, reading in your bed at night, alone in the grocery aisle… elevator rides.  We all take it in stride.


But what if something really is hunting me when I am all alone??

Four days… I will have you in four days.

Four days… I will have you in four days.

Four days… I will have you in four days.

Four days… I will have you in four days.