Dark Origins: Gemma Jaeger Huntress of the Preternatural, #0

By Monique J. Siedlak

Gemma's fight against darkness turns deadly personal when monsters infiltrate her last sanctuary.

Haunted by a life of hunting the supernatural, Gemma is abandoned by her sister who seeks normalcy away from the shadows. Alone, her battle with personal demons lands her in Magnolia Meadows rehab, where death lurks not in the guise of addiction, but in the monstrous form of an Aswang preying on the vulnerable.

In a race against time, Gemma must unravel the paranormal mystery as the body count rises. When an unexpected ally falls victim, the fight becomes a personal vendetta.

Gemma must navigate a maze of addiction, loyalty, and ancient evil. This is more than a fight for survival—it's a search for redemption in a life where every choice could be your last.

If you're captivated by the supernatural suspense of The Haunting of Hill House and the gritty, dark narrative of Supernatural, this book is a must-read. It masterfully blends psychological depth with action-packed paranormal investigation, offering a thrilling journey of self-discovery and a battle against both inner and outer demons.

Dive into the darkness with Gemma, where the true test is not in defeating the monster, but in not becoming one. Get your copy!

• Language: English
• Publisher: Oshun Publications, LLC
• Release date: Dec 26, 2023
• ISBN: 9781961362116

Book preview

Dark Origins

DARK ORIGINS

Echoes of a Bloodline

Gemma Jaeger Huntress of the Preternatural

Book 0

MONIQUE J SIEDLAK

Oshun PublicationsTitle Page

Dark Origins: Echoes of a Bloodline by Monique J. Siedlak

Published by Oshun Publications

9 Old Kings Road STE. 123 #1038

Palm Coast, FL 32137

www.oshunpublications.com

Copyright © 2023 Monique J. Siedlak

ISBN 978-1-961362-12-3 (Paperback)

ISBN 978-1-961362-13-0 (Hardback)

ISBN 978-1-961362-11-6 (eBook)

Disclaimer

This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

All rights reserved

No part of this book may be reproduced or used in any manner without written permission of the copyright owner except for the use of quotations in a book review.

Book design by Deranged Doctor Design

www.derangeddoctordesign.com

Also by Monique J Siedlak

Dark Fury: Return of the Huntress

Dark Hunt: Vessel for the Dead

Dark Wish: Deal with a Djinn

Mojosiedlak.com/nocturnechronicles

Contents

Shadows and Silhouettes

Veiled Secrets

Echoes of Doubt

Hidden Corridors

Whispers of Doubt

Captive Shadows

Entangled in Deceit

Sinister Web Unravels

Whispers of Silence

Unseen Bonds

Shadows of Doubt

Awakening to Nightmares

Emerging Monstrous Truths

Calculated Risks

Uncovering the Harsh Truth

A Dark Vaccine Conspiracy

Psychotic Break

Masquerade of Care

Undercover Escape

Shadowed Truths Unveiled

Deceit at the Last Meal

Salted Revelation

Shattered Illusions

Shattered Past, New Beginnings

Review

About the Author

Chapter 1

Gemma Jaeger's life had been a waking nightmare for so long she feared eventually the lines between reality and her imagination would blur. Being trapped within the confines of Magnolia Meadows Recovery & Renewal Center where day slipped into night and back again without a glimpse of the sun or the moon only made it worse. Time was an abstract concept now. And of course, her sobriety–which she no longer had a say in–didn’t help matters.

Gemma didn’t know why, but whenever she’d heard the word rehab throughout her life, a very specific picture popped into her brain: a Victorian home that, from the outside, could've been any bed and breakfast, probably in New England. Inside, the spacious interior you’d expect, but devoid of any decorative frills and idyllic charm. A dozen or so bedrooms spread across multiple floors, and a large common room lit only by the sunlight–of which there was plenty–filled with mismatched and well-worn furniture, threadbare shag carpeting covering the floors, all in a color palette straight out of the 70s. Comfortable in an outdated way. Cozy but not homey. Folding chairs arranged in a circle for group sessions, to be put away immediately after, to make space for card tables and board games to keep the residents occupied.

Magnolia Meadows was not that.

Gemma didn’t have access to the internet but if she did and was able to do even minimal digging, she was certain she would uncover that the sprawling gray stone building had once housed an insane asylum–the kind that specialized in electroshock therapy–in the 1930s or 40s. A world away from what modern psychiatric care facilities looked like.

They probably did lobotomies in the basement. Maybe somewhere, in a forgotten closet, there are brains in jars of formaldehyde still on shelves.

She rolled over in her iron-framed bed, trying to get relief from the stubborn spring in the lumpy mattress that seemed hellbent on poking her in the ribs like a bony finger. She’d considered moving to the matching twin bed on the adjacent wall, which had remained unoccupied since she’d checked in.

Being alone with her own thoughts was getting to her, she recognized that, but she wasn’t sure if she wanted a roommate.

Scritch, scritch, scritch.

That sound was the only indicator she had of what the weather was like outside. A slight breeze, enough to make the gnarled branches of the tree outside scrape against the pane of the lone window in her room. She didn’t know what kind of tree it was and could only assume it had gnarled branches from the mental picture her mind had conjured up. The window was too high to offer even a glimpse at anything beyond its grimy glass, which was covered, on the inside, by rusty bars.

The words Magnolia Meadows had a tranquil ring to it, but thus far, Gemma had found no solace here.

Scritch, scritch, scritch.

That sound brought her back to her childhood.

Witch’s fingers, she’d tease her younger sister Danielle when the wind got up outside their shared bedroom in their family’s home. The witch is coming for youuuuuuuuu.

That was before she knew witches were real, and nothing to be joked about. That was when she still believed in unconditional love.

Gemma pulled the thin sheet up to her chin. It was the closest thing she’d had to an embrace in a very long time.

Scritch, scritch, scritch.

Then…

Gemma sat up.

The silence was so all-encompassing here, sometimes her mind played tricks on her, hearing noises when there were none.

But not this time. Now there were definite steps in the hallway. A quiet squeaking. Rubber against linoleum.

Even though it was pitch black in her room, she closed her eyes, listening.

Yes, footsteps.

Other than the scritching, she’d never heard anything but the sound of her own breath and heartbeat after dark.

She opened her eyes. From the narrow gap between the metal door and the scuffed linoleum floor, she saw a definite beam of light, moving like water and growing wider until it, and the footsteps, stopped right outside her room.

Shit.

The only thing worse than the absence of booze was the absence of a weapon. She didn’t even have shoelaces, which weren’t ideal for taking down a baddie, but she’d witnessed her father make it work in a pinch.

The doorknob turned, followed by a creaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaak that made goosebumps rise on the flesh of her arms and legs.

Without warning, the room was flooded with blinding fluorescent light. Gemma threw her hands up to shield her eyes from the sudden brightness.

Squinting, Gemma made eye contact with the bored-faced orderly she'd never seen before. Like all of them, he wore scrubs that might’ve once been green but had faded to the point of almost being colorless, like the peeling wallpaper in the hallways.

Miss Jaeger, this is Miss Bloom. Miss Bloom, Miss Jaeger. Y’all play nice, he said without any inflection.

Gemma glanced at the shivering young woman next to him. Everything about her was pale, right down to her frightened eyes. As if she, too, had been drained of color.

Gemma gasped at the clinking of metal, as her vision adjusted to the light and she realized the orderly was using a key from his endless chain of them to unlock the handcuffs around the other woman’s wrists.

What the actual fuck? Handcuffs?

Before Gemma could form words, the lights were out, and the door slammed shut.

Gemma’s world went silent again, except for her own breathing, suddenly heavy to match her alarmed pulse, and the sound of the most mournful, helpless weeping Gemma had ever heard.

Chapter 2

Magnolia Meadows Renewal Center had many rules, and there were consequences for disobeying any of them. Gemma wasn’t sure what the consequence was for turning on the lights after 9:30 PM–an act she’d taken for granted in the real world, too insignificant to even acknowledge as a freedom –but she didn’t let the fact that it was expressly forbidden stop her from flipping the switch.

As the overhead fluorescent bulbs came to life, flickering and humming, Gemma knelt down close, but not too close, to Miss Bloom, as the orderly had introduced the other woman. She was huddled in the corner, her knees pulled up to her chest, her arms hugging them. Blood beaded around her top teeth where they dug into her bottom lip.

Hey, Gemma said. She wasn’t a people person and over the past year or so, she’d proven herself to be selfish and careless and downright mean, but she couldn’t ignore the empathy she felt. I’m Gemma. What’s your first name?

Ch-ch-cherish. Cherish.

That’s a pretty name, Gemma said, trying not to sound like she was attempting to coax a feral cat out from underneath her car in the dead of winter. She was not the person for this job, nor did she particularly want to be. Yet here she was.

Cherish was skeletal with shorn white-blond hair and skin so pale Gemma