1st 5 Pages February Workshop- Woropay Rev 2

Name: Larysia Woropay

Genre: Young Adult Paranormal Fantasy
Title: Extrasensory

Pitch

Seventeen-year-old Quinn Brooke is the latest in a long line of mediums. She and her mother consider it their duty to take on paranormal cases, tussling with poltergeists and banishing wraiths on the regular. But when their latest client transforms into a bloodthirsty dragon, they’re at a loss for words, much less solutions.

Looking for answers, Quinn joins forces with her high school’s outcast paranormal group run by a dork who pushes every. Single. One. Of. Her. Buttons! and the new girl from India who has an unconventional mediumship of her own. Together, they discover a pagan god known as the Stag is turning man into myth, transforming the locals into fantastical creatures for his new kingdom on Earth.

No one is safe. Not even Quinn’s mother, who is kidnapped and turned into a Monarch to rule the Stag’s empire. In order to save not only their home, but those they love, the teens have to do more than just get along — they’ll have to elevate the abilities they already have and discover ones they never even knew existed. Assuming, of course, their turned friends and family don’t kill them first …

Pages

Visitors are coming. The dead man whispered to Quinn, the sound like the rustle of dry leaves on an omen wind. It struck her with an abrupt chill, even though he wasn’t a ghost to be feared. Evil spirits couldn’t get into her house. At least, they hadn’t yet.

Quinn glanced at the crimson glow of the clock atop her nightstand. It was three a.m. The Devil’s Hour. Dread pooled in her stomach like liquid ice. The ghost hadn’t made a statement. It delivered a warning.

She pushed back the duvet and stood, hairs rising on the back of her neck. Her toes curled into the carpet as a shiver raced down to her soles. She rubbed her bare arms, textured with gooseflesh. Quinn pulled on an oversized sweater and slid into her slippers before making her way into the hallway. Her mother stood in a robe outside her bedroom across the hall.

“We’re going to have company.” Quinn said as they locked eyes, twin gray mirrors reflecting back at each other.

“The blessing must not have worked.” Her mother said, pushing a strand of raven hair behind her ear. She sighed. “We better prepare for our guests.”

“You mean Ms. Harker and Emily … or the thing stalking them?”

“Both,” her mother answered.

Quinn remembered when Diana Harker and her toddler first came to their house last week under the hushed cover of night. The hood of Ms. Harker’s windbreaker had been pulled over her head like she was entering the lair of a dark cabal instead of a welcoming home. Just like everyone else in town, afraid to be seen on Quinn’s doorstep.

Her mother had read tarot cards for years, and occasionally, when a client found themselves in the midst of a haunting, she provided another kind of service: cleansing. Better known as evicting a troublesome ghostly squatter out of someone’s home. Sometimes the spirit needed a gentle talking to. Other times, a forceful kick in the metaphysical rear. And since her mother was a psychic medium, she was just the lady to do it. Soon enough, Quinn would be, too.

Quinn crossed her arms. “Are we going to tell her what she’s up against this time?”

“ … Yes.” Her mom said. “There’s no point in trying to protect her from the truth any longer. I’m scared for her little girl. If she’s coming back, it’s because that thing has finally made a move for her.”

Ms. Harker had said the paranormal activity began with Emily’s baby monitor. It picked up strange sounds, guttural mumbles and a man uttering one word: “mine.” At first, there was no culprit to be seen. Then on the third night, a pitch-black figure had stood over Emily’s crib. The mediums knew then it would escalate, they just didn’t know how soon.

Quinn shook her head. “If we warned her properly, that thing wouldn’t be headed here right now.”

“If we had warned her properly, Quinn, she would have been terrified senseless. You know the consequences of that.” Her mother wrapped the robe tighter around herself and padded to the end of the hall, having enough with the discussion. She flicked the hall light on and rounded the corner, and one by one, more lights illuminated their home.

“I swear, mom, you want to coddle the normies.” Quinn trailed her. Her mother didn’t want to upset their clients, but Quinn felt it was like lying by omission. Knowledge was power, power that could have kept Emily safe. “It’s terrifying her senseless anyways! That’s what it does! It’s a—!”

An explosive pounding resounded through their modest bungalow. Quinn jumped, choking on her words. Her head snapped towards the front door. She could feel in her gut the unwelcome company behind it.

They’ve come.

“Maria! Maria, please!” It wasn't only Ms. Harker's cries Quinn heard, but something old and malevolent stirring in the remnants of silence. “Let us in!”

“Guard yourself, Quinn.” Her mother warned, coming closer.

“I know.” Quinn steeled herself. “It’s out there.”

Quinn’s mom opened the door, the front porch light revealing their guests. Ms. Harker’s face was red, her eyes puffy from the tears that streaked her cheeks. Emily’s face wasn’t much better as her tiny fingers grabbed at her mother’s shirt. Wide-eyed relief graced Ms. Harker at Maria’s forced smile. “Oh, Maria! Thank God!”

The entity rose from behind Ms. Harker, pulling itself up from the shadows. Quinn’s heartbeat spiked to a frantic staccato as inky darkness slid off of it, revealing a powerful anthropomorphic frame adorned with a russet coat of fur. It wore a crown of bone-white antlers, spreading back and wide like it was a stag. Its gaze slid past Quinn’s mother and onto her. It licked its chops, tasting her fear.

“Quickly!” Quinn’s mother flung open the screen door and grabbed Ms. Harker, pulling her in. She threw a look over her shoulder, seeing Quinn frozen in place, eyes locked with the entity. “QUINN!”

Quinn ripped her eyes away, her skin crawling.

The entity’s head snapped back to her mother. It lunged, only to be met with the spiritual equivalent of an electrical fence as soon as it tried to cross the threshold. The jolt sent it staggering back. Her mother slammed the door shut. After several moments of uncomfortable silence, she finally said: “Quinn, love, put on a pot of coffee. Warm up some milk for Emily, too.”

Quinn obeyed with a shaky sigh, torn between feeling like an idiot for freezing on the spot and annoyed her mother was keeping up with her calm-and-collected charade.

“It hurt her!” Ms. Harker cradled her daughter closer. Emily nestled into her mother’s bird’s nest of strawberry blond hair, quietly sobbing. “The blessing only made it angrier!”

“To the couch.” Quinn’s mom led them into the living room. “Sit, sit.”

Quinn got a look at the pair before she went into the kitchen. Ms. Harker sat, not releasing her grip on Emily. Her eyes darted. The woman didn’t have a shred of sixth sense, but she had all the others. Something triggered a primal fear in her. Instinct took over. Protect the child, it told her; something comes for her.

“It’s okay, Diana.” Quinn’s mother reassured. “It can’t come in. Not here, not my home.” Ms. Harker’s shoulders softened, but not her embrace.

The scent of coffee promising to fill cups in short order began to permeate the air. Quinn grabbed a carton of milk and a pot, ignoring the window over the sink, its curtains wide open. As soon as her mother closed the door, she could feel the thing circling the house, trying to sneak in. At last, it stopped moving. Outside that thin pane of glass.

It was close enough that she could sense the rise and fall of its chest, could hear the rattling of its breath. It watched her hungrily. She learned from last time. She wouldn’t look up. Even when the urge to was almost all-consuming. It wasn’t merely her curiosity. It was as if a hand was cradling her chin, urging her to lift her gaze. Its hand.

Mimicking nonchalance, Quinn turned a burner on, preparing the soothing warm milk. It was then she realized her mother’s faux blasé attitude had its merits in times like these.

“What happened?” Her mother’s voice carried from the other room.