Exit Darkness, Enter Light: Book One of the Earth Cycle Read online

Nadia and I walked around the square hand in hand taking in the many sites and people. We made our way lazily inside the Cathedral. The sight that greeted us was awe-inspiring. The main hall and chapel spread outwards to a raised podium at the far centre of the building. We walked towards the podium taking in the varied images on the walls and floors. On both sides there were seats in front of the main podium area. I felt humbled standing in the chapel. It was like I could almost hear the whispers and prayers of people across the ages who had visited the place, some in moments of happiness and hope, while others in periods of sadness and despair. The emotions were powerful. Religion and the belief in something beyond this world have driven humankind to distraction, I thought.

  “That ceiling is amazing,” whispered Nadia.

  I gazed up and nodded agreement. It was spectacular. The ceiling rose high above us into a dome. The walls leading up to the domed ceiling were covered with biblical paintings and images; they were also elegantly crafted with intricate carvings and patterns.

  “Wow,” I mumbled appreciating the hard work that must have been invested in decorating the interior. We went to all the chapels and visited the tombs in the Cathedral. Nadia was transfixed by the painting of the Beheading of St John. The painting depicted the moment in biblical history when St John was beheaded by King Herod to satisfy the bloodlust of the seductive dancer, Salome. The scene before us in the painting showed the courtyard of a prison with the grisly murder being observed by two other prisoners looking through a grille. A young woman and an old crone stood ready to take the severed head and put it on a waiting platter. The blood flowing from St John’s neck drips towards the bottom of the frame in the painting and in its red stream, Caravaggio signed his name. The helplessness of the situation depicted in the image filled me with pity. Imagine knowing you are about to die, what thoughts must have gone through his mind?

  “I think he felt at peace,” Nadia said as if reading my thoughts. “It reminds me of the helplessness I feel in the reoccurring dream I told you about,” she finished glancing at me.

  “Perhaps,” I replied, slightly unnerved by Nadia’s intuition.

  “Let’s go,” I suggested. I felt a sadness emanating from Nadia. She was usually always happy and upbeat – I didn’t recognize her current mood.

  “Ok let’s go,” Nadia replied after a few moments of silence. I took her hand.

  Back outside the blue sky and sun lifted our mood. We walked across the square towards a group of souvenir shops. It was too early in the holiday for thinking of presents, but I guessed Nadia wanted something for her parents. Nadia was an only child. Both of her parents doted on her endlessly. Her father was a huge man around six feet six inches tall, and her mother was amazingly beautiful with delicate features and a strength which sprang forth from her gray eyes. I had met her parents only a few times, but we had all gotten along famously. Our respective parents had not yet met each other but both sides were growing impatient, especially my mum who adored Nadia. She wanted to meet Nadia’s mother to discuss marriage, Nadia found this hilarious. I, on the other hand, tended to feel somewhat apprehensive. My mother had commented numerous times on how we would make beautiful babies together. I smiled as I thought about the prospect of a miniature Cyrus.

  “Darling why don’t you go and have a look in the shops, I will meet you in Cafe Cordina around the corner a bit later,” I said to Nadia as I noticed her looking at the displays in a shop window. I remembered hearing an elderly couple talking about how delightful their lunch had been at this place. It was around the corner from the Cathedral so I thought it would be nice to have an early dinner there.

  “Ok,” Nadia said with a smile as she disappeared amongst the shelves and artefacts of the shop. I walked off gazing around at the many faces. Most people seemed happy, some were looking at shop windows in the square, while others sat at tables drinking and eating. I didn’t know where I was heading first, but it was a beautiful day so I just walked aimlessly. I reached Republic Street and made my way down the winding pavement and narrow alleyways. Eventually I found my way back to the cafe where we had agreed to meet. Nadia was yet to arrive, so I went ahead and ordered tea and pastries for the two of us. The cafe was at the corner of the square and where I was seated I could see people coming from all directions. I enjoyed the view and waited to spot Nadia once she had finished her exploring. Before I knew it an hour had gone by. Still no sign of Nadia and I was beginning to get worried.

  ***

  Nadia knew this would be a good opportunity to buy some presents for Cyrus’s family as she entered the souvenir shop. She had known very soon after dating Cyrus that he was the one she wanted to spend the rest of her life with. Cyrus just needed convincing of the fact! Cyrus could be very intense sometimes and then detached occasionally, but she found that extremely alluring. He was unpredictable which always kept Nadia excited and interested.

  Nadia happily flicked through the various books on the shelf of the shop, hoping to find something Megan and Aiyana would appreciate. She was so preoccupied by her search that she did not notice the well-dressed man with dark hair and black eyes a few feet from her looking at ornamental plates. While Nadia picked items up and assessed their suitability, the man made his way around behind her. A needle extended from one of his fingers. As

  he neared Nadia he grabbed her from behind and pricked her neck with the needle. Nadia was only able to register momentary shock as her eyes opened wide and then shut as the drugged needle rendered her unconscious. She collapsed into the arms of her assailant; the man slung her over his shoulder with a swift movement. He made his way to the back of the shop and signalled the cooperating shopkeeper to open the rear door. The exit led out into a quiet alleyway where a black car waited. The door of the car opened and with the comfort of lifting a child, the dark-haired man placed the unconscious Nadia into the back seat.

  ***

  “Anything else sir? – excuse me sir,” the waiter said, trying to capture my attention.

  “No thanks, could I have the bill,” I replied. I had been thinking about why Nadia had not arrived yet.

  “Yes of course.”

  I watched the waiter walk away pleased that he had been given some clear instructions. It was nearly 6 p.m. now and the heat from the sun was losing its intensity. I waited impatiently for the bill to arrive. As soon as it did I paid and left the café to search for Nadia.

  I got to the souvenir shop where I had said goodbye to her, but there was no sign of her outside. I went in and looked around, again no sign of her inside. I asked the shopkeeper if he had seen where Nadia had gone, but he said he did not remember anyone of her description entering his shop, which I thought was weird. I took my phone out of my pocket and called her mobile – it kept ringing, but there was no answer. Perhaps she had gone elsewhere. I walked around the square; she couldn’t have gotten far. I searched other nearby shops, but could not find a trace of her. I tried her mobile again, no answer.

  It had been about two hours since I had left her, which was not long by any stretch of the imagination, but I felt concerned. What if she had gotten lost? Or what if she had been robbed? I tried to ignore the angst building up inside me. Maybe she had not seen me and gone back to the hotel? Yes, that was probably it. I was not even sure if she had taken her mobile with her, maybe it was still in the hotel room ringing away with no one to answer it. We had probably just missed each other at the café. The thought of this gave me renewed purpose and I began walking back to the hotel with far less anxiety.

  “Nadia, Nadia!” I shouted, as I entered our hotel room. Everything was as we had left it in the morning. I tried her phone again. It was ringing, but still no answer. Her mobile phone was definitely not in the room. Perhaps I should tell someone, the hotel staff or the police even? I put a jumper on over my T-shirt and replaced the shorts I had on with some jogging bottoms. It was getting cooler. I collected my thoughts. I went back down to the lobby of the hotel and told the receptionist that Nadi
a had disappeared and I was worried. The short plump lady behind the desk was blasé about the situation. She kept asking me if Nadia and I had had any sort of argument.

  “We were fine, we went to the Cathedral earlier and she just vanished,” I kept repeating to her.

  “It has only been a few hours, but why don’t you go to the police if you are very worried?” she said trying to wash her hands of the situation.

  The attitude of the receptionist made me feel like an idiot, but I knew this was not normal. This was our first holiday together and our second night in Malta; Nadia would not have any reason to stay away. Dark thoughts occupied my mind as I went outside the hotel to find a taxi. It was a short ride to the police station. The taxi driver did not bother making idle chatter, which suited me fine as my mood was becoming tenser with each passing minute. It was well past eight now. I had given the hotel receptionist my mobile number with strict instructions to call me if Nadia appeared while I was out.

  I paid the taxi driver and made my way to the entrance of the police station. It was getting dark now. The street was devoid of life and the evening air warm. I opened the creaky door of the police station and walked in. The hallway was quiet and there was no one sitting behind the counter. I walked to the front desk. I could hear a radio or television in the room beyond the desk. I waited for a few minutes. There was no bell or buzzer so in the end I just called out loud that I needed to speak to someone. I heard a low murmur and a fat bald man came out. He had a thick black mustache and looked half asleep. He was wearing a Maltese police uniform, but it was all very unkempt. He did not fill me with any confidence.

  “I need to report my girlfriend missing,” I said, as he made his way towards the counter. He stared at me with a mildly irritated look on his chubby face.

  “Come back tomorrow. We are closed,” he said defensively.

  I ignored him and tried to explain the events of the day leading to Nadia’s disappearance. He was very uninterested and even yawned a few times, which made my temperature rise.

  “Are you listening to me? This is not a joke,” I said feeling my voice rattle with anger.

  “Sir we are busy, your girlfriend will be back. Maybe you had an argument or she is upset…”

  “Look we didn’t have an argument. What are you going to do to find her?” I interjected. This man was stoking a smouldering fire in my being. His indifference was making the tension I was trying to hide behind my calm exterior begin to crack.

  “I can see now why your girlfriend left you,” he said in retort. This was like pouring petrol on a fire. I tried to maintain calm and composure.

  “Sorry, I am tired and worried. I have a photo of my girlfriend. Please take it so you can look for her.” He tutted and waved the photo away dismissively. I wanted to punch him in the face.

  He stared at me with a vacant look in his eyes.

  “Come back tomorrow afternoon, if she is still missing,” he said in a patronizing tone. The police officer seemed to be taking enjoyment from my obvious distress.

  “Can’t you do something now?” I demanded.

  “No please leave. You need to go back to your hotel and calm down. She will return once she gets over your disagreement. There is plenty of action in Valletta to keep her entertained for the night,” he made the last comment with a smirk.

  What was this guy’s problem? He was taking pleasure in antagonizing me. He was on some sort of power trip. Nadia was missing in a strange country and this imbecile was telling me to come back the next day.

  “You are going to regret this!” I shouted. I felt immense power and energy surge through my body. I couldn’t stop myself and reached over the counter and grabbed the shocked officer by the throat. His eyes looked at mine, terrified.

  “You have black eyes, you are a demon,” he stuttered. I didn’t care what he said or was trying to say, he sounded distant, weak and pathetic. I yanked him over the counter and threw him onto the floor. I felt a phenomenal strength coursing through my veins. He was a heavy bulky man, but I tossed him like a rag doll. He went flying and then tumbling across the room and crashed against the entrance of the police station. His body was still. I looked around me the room was dark, like a cloud of blackness had invaded and taken over the premises. I stood still taking in the change both within myself, as well as to the external environment. I walked over to the body of the police officer. He was unconscious, but breathing. His face was bruised from being thrown and there was a cut on his forehead, apart from that there were no other visible injuries.

  KILL HIM. A powerful urge overtook me. My heart was racing. I HAD TO END HIS LIFE. I raised my foot over his neck with the intention to crush his windpipe. KILL HIM NOW.

  My phone rang which brought me back to reality with a jolt. I took it out of my pocket and an immense feeling of relief washed over me as Nadia’s name flashed on the screen.

  “Where the hell have you been,” I said, as I answered the phone. Silence greeted me.

  “Hello?!” again silence, “Nadia, are you ok?” I said.

  “Meet me at Lower Barrakka Garden,” said a voice which sounded like Nadia but had a peculiar tone.

  “What, where are you? Are you ok?” I asked.

  “Meet me at Lower Barrakka Garden come now and come alone.”

  Before I could ask any further questions the line went dead. Awareness of my surroundings and what I had been about to do struck me. I slowed my breathing, gradually the room seemed brighter and the feeling of unquenchable rage that had overtaken me minutes before subsided. The officer still lay across the floor, he was not moving. What the hell had I done? This holiday was turning out to be a nightmare, nothing like I had intended. I pulled myself together and grabbed the officer’s feet. I dragged him away from the front entrance. He seemed very heavy now, unlike a few minutes earlier when I had lifted him like a feather and tossed him across the room. I ran out the police station not caring about any consequences or repercussions from my actions. Nadia was my only concern. I jogged to the main road and was lucky to see a taxi, which I hailed down. I told the driver the address and he said it was only a short drive away. In the back of the cab several thoughts invaded my head. Why had Nadia not gone back

  to the hotel? Where had she been all day? Was she angry about something?

  I tried calling Nadia back, but instead of the constant ringing I had got all day, this time it went straight to voicemail. I left her a message:

  “Nadia, I hope you are ok. I am coming to Lower Barrakka Garden now. I will see you soon.”

  We reached the gardens. I paid the taxi driver and he drove away. There was no one in sight. It was late and getting cold. I walked to the garden area, but the gate was closed. This was a strange place for Nadia to want to meet. It would have been a romantic setting in the afternoon heat, but at night the swaying palm trees gave the place a sinister air. I waited near the gate to the gardens for a few minutes, but there was no sign of Nadia anywhere. I tried her phone again – straight to her answering machine. I turned and looked into the garden area. I decided to climb over the fence. She must be in there somewhere. The garden was beautiful with neatly trimmed hedges and well-kept flowers. I took the path in, it led out to an open area with a fountain, beyond the fountain was a Greek-style temple, a memorial to the first British government representative in Malta, Sir Alexander J. Ball. I walked to the fence surrounding the fountain and listened to the sound of the water, I found it hypnotic in the dark night. Something moved in the corner of my eye and made me turn, nothing there. Maybe I was seeing things in the night. I felt a cold shiver down my spine. I walked across the garden to the far fence. Here I had an amazing view overlooking the grand harbour. I could see the faint outline of Fort St Angelo in the distance across the sea.

  Nadia should be here. I looked out at the water and images of ages past began to sweep into my mind: boats and battles, many had been fought for this island. Visions of a great siege came to me, defenders of the fort being captured
and beheaded, their lifeless bodies loaded into ancient catapults and launched into the bay. The energy around me was oppressive. The feelings of hopelessness and defeat palatable, then I heard shrieking, it sounded like human screams. They were horrible shrieks of anguish. They were not coming from the gardens they were distant. Not distant in space, but rather in time. I looked around me; nothing or no one in sight. I backed away from the fence and turned from the view of the bay. This place had been a scene of butchery and death.

  “So you heard the cries of pain. Did they not call to you through the ages,” I looked around me and saw the shape of a man in the shadows cast by a palm tree. He was about three metres away from me. I had a feeling of repulsion in the pit of my stomach as some primordial instinct warned me of immense danger. He walked closer.

  “Who are you?” I said in an even tone. I could see him better now; it was the same dark-haired man from the morning in the hotel lobby.

  “A seeker such as you,” he replied. Something was not right about this man; his voice was hollow and metallic in sound. He had obviously jumped the fence to get into the garden. Where was Nadia? This all seemed to be too much of a coincidence. He must have something to do with her disappearance. Anger swelled my body.

  “Where is she?” I said in a commanding voice, my anger enveloped me and I felt powerful. The man took a step back.

  “In good time Cyrus, we will do her no harm,” was his response. He was admitting he knew where Nadia was and he knew my name. I moved quickly like a hunting panther, something inside me took over. Before he could react I launched myself into him. I had trained in martial arts and lifted weights so I knew I could handle myself. In recent years I had learnt that I was far stronger and faster than anyone I knew in classes or the gym. I had to constantly hold back to stop from injuring people. Any restraint evaporated now as I knew Nadia was in danger. I knocked the man to the ground and was atop him before he had a chance to defend himself. I restrained him by pressing my knees down on his chest. He stared up at me trying to free himself from my grip, but he gave in as he realised I was far too strong. I could see his face clearly now. It was perfect, but looked unreal and fake. His eyes stared at me; they were completely black like lifeless orbs, they resembled the eyes of a shark as it attacks its prey. I grabbed his neck, but his flesh felt weird under my grip like it was artificial. I was unnerved and unwittingly let go of his throat and lost my orientation. With unnatural speed he scuttled backwards towards the tree.