Vantablack

By Je’Von Miller

When a sociopathic scientist and professor begin creating experiments at the expense of innocent lives, evil arises. Vantablack focuses on the dark aspect of the real world, how evil is hidden in plain sight throughout the country. Justifying the terror and black-hearted nature of the two antagonists, Vantablack explores just how emotionless people can be, and what people will resort to in order to get what they want. And as our world grows more and more corrupt, Dr. Ghastly lives off of fear and intelligence.

About the Author
Je’Von Miller was born in Detroit, Michigan. He enjoys traveling, being on the road, and astronomy. Miller became a paranormal investigator in 2015 and has been investigating since!
Also an actor, Miller was an extra in Living Life on the Edge. He dreams of turning his books into films to create a new genre of horror that will leave people’s hearts racing.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Dorrance Publishing Company
• Release date: Apr 30, 2024
• ISBN: 9798889258421

Book preview

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The contents of this work, including, but not limited to, the accuracy of events, people, and places depicted; opinions expressed; permission to use previously published materials included; and any advice given or actions advocated are solely the responsibility of the author, who assumes all liability for said work and indemnifies the publisher against any claims stemming from publication of the work.

All Rights Reserved

Copyright © 2024 by Je’Von Miller

No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted, downloaded, distributed, reverse engineered, or stored in or introduced into any information storage and retrieval system, in any form or by any means, including photocopying and recording, whether electronic or mechanical, now known or hereinafter invented without permission in writing from the publisher.

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A big thanks to all of my friends, family and supporters who have believed in me in the last decade.

- J.M.

BEFORE

An older man.

Scruffed beard, mid-30’s.

His dress shoes echoing through the emptiness of the dimly lit blue corridor as he takes a sip of his freshly made coffee. His watch reads 3:20 p.m.

A man of true intelligence. A gray lab coat of the darkest shade, a black tailored suit and turtleneck to match. The white lights from above gleaming through his rounded opticals. Scruffing his mild beard, he enters a series of numbers on an approaching door. A loud beep emits, and within seconds, the doors open horizontally revealing a darkened corridor down below.

The ambience sounding as if the void of empty space could be heard. Taking another sip of his coffee, he slowly descends downstairs vanishing into the darkness below.

Many familiar sounds coming within earshot.

Screams.

The screams of tortured souls surrounded him whilst calmly descending down into the darkness. The once white lights above, now fading below into a dark, wine-red color.

Someone screaming to the left, begging to be saved. Her nails, bloodied and removed from attempts to break free from her metal prison.

A young man’s head caves in from the blunt trauma of ramming his head into the wall. The bloodstains and lifeless body speaking for itself.

The doctor simply shrugs it off.

A young woman, silent. Her blonde hair covering her face sitting in fetal position, whispering to herself. She speaks of home.

This is her home.

With the end of the stairway finally approaching, he comes to a stop towards another one of the doors. Using only his eye, the door opens automatically. As the door opens, he stares at the banner beside the elevator. A sigh leaving his chest.

Underception Ark Labs, LLC

He sighs as the door slowly opens. Walking inside, the door closes behind him.

The room sounds still. Only the recurring sound of machinery beeping and the ambience of the ominous sounding area. Picking up a clipboard and pen, he sits at his desk. Another day on the job, it seems.

A decent sized motherboard facing the opposite end of the entrance. A small vault containing a woman in her 30’s by appearance and a man in about the same age group.

They float in small water-filled pods only dressed in underwear attire. Facing the two mysterious individuals, he looked down to his name plaque on his desk.

Dr. Peter Quindrow Ghastly

Former Scientist for the International Space Station

He sits with his hands up to his face partially as he looks at documents of unsuccessful experiments. Photographs of adults and their backgrounds filled in a yellow folder.

Looking up at the two floating in their pods, he lowers his paperwork and focuses his attention on them. He stands up and sets up a microphone.

Later, he sets up another microphone near the pod so to better understand the two. With a few taps to the mic, the audio is ready. He was setting up his speakers.

Sitting comfortably in his chair this time, he gives a heavy sigh before sipping his drink.

A loud siren rung as he suddenly presses a button labeled, Awake.

Suddenly, the fluids from one pod, the woman’s, begin to drain moderately until coming to a complete stop and she is lowered to her feet, where she immediately falls over, but given time to wake up and adjust.

Ghastly simply watches and observes.

The woman slowly steps to her feet, stumbling every so often and observes her surroundings. Her eyes are a revealing blue. Her body shaking timidly.

She locks eyes with the doctor. The man himself locks contact, undisturbed. The once loud sound of water being released from the pod now sounding of nothing but the beats of one’s heart. Small beeps and tense silence filled the room.

She spoke. Her voice soft but attempting to be stern.

Where am I? A-and who are you? Her voice soft, but stern. Adjusting to her surroundings, also wanting answers.

The doctor sits still for a moment. But he replies. His voice deep, soothing to the ears but also stern. Calmly, still speaking in a professional manner.

You have been selected to participate in a few … experiments, he says.

Not getting any ideas, are you? she says with a concerned look on her face. Her body being covered as quickly as she could. Ghastly replies, pressing a few buttons, prepping for the next release.

"No, no. Nothing like that. No bodily harm will come to you. If you follow instructions."

Instructions?

Well, before we run into questions, how about we introduce ourselves? My name is Dr. Peter Ghastly. Do you recall who you are?

She is quiet for a few seconds. The two exchange looks before he is finally given an answer.

Lacie. Lacie Biggins.

Well, Miss Biggins, unfortunately, you have been selected prior to your brother here to perform a test. A test of which I will be conducting. If you are successful, then the both of you may leave.

His voice changed into a slightly darker tone.

"However, if you do not pass my tests… well… the source in question will be… removed…."

Her eyes widened partially.

Now. If you could please stay still for me, I’m going to check you for any potential injuries you’ve had in the past for precise—

I DON’T CARE ABOUT YOUR FUCKING TESTS! WHAT ARE WE DOING HERE AND WHAT IS THE PURPOSE OF THIS BULLSHIT?!

The lab goes quiet.

Dead quiet.

The brother awakes in his pod, but he goes unnoticed.

The girl is quietly taking heavy breaths heard through the microphone. The seriousness of Ghastly never leaving his face. He stands up from his seat and slowly approaches Lacie and stares her directly in the eyes. His hands behind his back. He speaks very softly, loudly enough for her to hear. His soulless eyes never leaving hers.

"You two will be run to the ground when I take you to the woods and hunt you down like dogs. You will run through terrain of my choosing and I will test your skill for survival. You disobey me in any way and bullet goes into your skull. Attest me to my word, and you will see firsthand why you will soon be terrified of me."

Ghastly slowly stands up, his eyes never leaving hers as she begins to shake and slowly has difficulty breathing. Pressing the button to release the brother, Lacie begins to scream. The mic disrupts the doctor’s sense of hearing, triggering the alarm and disabling all functions temporarily. The lights frantically flickering on and off. The room begins to violently shake from the increasing sound waves amplified by her screams.

She’s going to bury us alive….

Her brother, meanwhile, wakes conscious as he winces in pain up in a pool of glass as he turns and watches his sister scream for so long, worried of her falling unconscious herself.

The doctor releases his grip from his ears and lowers his hands to waist level, looking to Lacie with intense attention.

Lacie focuses her attention on him and stares him down as she turns to him, knowing this is the moment she shares an intense hate for the doctor.

The room flashing bits of reds, whites, greens, and blues as the entire room nearly falls haywire due to the destruction her vocals caused.

Without hesitation, she charges to him.

A gunshot erupts.

The boy stands, frozen in place as the bullet enters and exits her skull. A thud instantly follows. The alarm still going off in his ears. The constant ringing unphasing to him as he watches blood drain excessively to his new dress shoes.

Adrenaline causes Ghastly to nearly tremble. The gun placed back in his holster as he stares down at her as he walks away from the body.

Her brother, however, takes the sight the worst. He processes in silent horror. His body trembling as the doctor walks away into the darkness, taking no time to process everything that happens.

Clenching onto his sister as tightly as he can, he screams. And screams. Blood soaking his clothes as he cries intensely into her arms.

The alarm stops.

Small occurring beeps and static periodically buzzing throughout the destroyed lab.

The doors closing behind him.

Dr. Ghastly’s voice is heard over the distorted audio.

En… ry Num…

Static erupts from the audio feed as he speaks.

One clear word that soon begins the massacre of New Hampshire’s deadliest killer.

F a i  l u  r e.

Another entry was written in. Before the chaos had ensued.

The audio is difficult to hear, but loud enough to understand. The voice speaks out in a stern tone.

 Curious, but…

…hostile.

"How dark can one human soul be…?

The mental stability to create and pursue actions of nothing but survival instinct at will… or is it simply just a way of saying someone’s gone mad…?

…evil…

What has the human race learned from generations of war and bloodshed?

Nothing.

A foolhardy move we, humans, make as a species.

The willful ability to create and adapt from such a planet in the continuing expansion of our night sky.

We have evolved so much. But yet, we continue to ignore the obvious.

We are all greedy.

We do not care for others if it does not benefit us. We do not care if one stumbles beside us, or if one simply drops an ice cream cone.

To simply put, no one cares, unless the source is involved.

We all have blackened and intrusive intentions. Tell me it’s normal. Tell me what is the last thing you expect to see before death? What’s the deepest shade of nothing you can imagine…? What’s the most blinding void of darkness you caught before you? I think I have the answer…

…vantablack.

A term used for something material that is the deepest shade of black. Below 1.5% in the visible spectrum.

It is an intriguing title….

I’ll take it."

~ Dr. P.Q. Ghastly. ~

Entry #359

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v a n t a b l a c k

=======================

Chapter 1

HOW THE STORY GOES

November 10th, 2020

Concord, New Hampshire

2:38 PM

The alarm rings constantly, never seeming to end. The sun gleaming in on a noticeably messy bedroom. A pair of legs belonging to a younger male sticks out from underneath the blankets. His groggy snores being heard from the other dorm rooms. Soft moans also emanating from underneath the blankets as he shuffles his body about.

s h u t  t h e  f u c— ahh…fuck you..

He mumbles groggily, waving his arm around slowly hitting his alarm before suddenly slithering his arm down, dropping it to the bed.

Slowly sitting up, fixing the blankets off of him, he gazes upon the sunbeams coming in from the windows. The blissful sounds of a nearby neighbor playing their classic ukulele beside the lake.

Nathan himself, fascinated with the sound of music filling his ears.

I never spoke with the old man, but I heard he was really cool. Of course, I never bothered to ask him why he does it every morning, let alone why he has a fuckin’ ukulele. But nevertheless, it never really bothered me. It just always a bliss to hear, and the neighbors didn’t mind at all. Never heard any complaints from anyone.

I walked up to my window to find the old timer looking left and right, and sure enough, there he was. Sitting in an old recliner in front of his house on the sidewalk, just tuning away.

He always knew the right time to wake everyone up. After his song ended, he simply stood up, bowed, and walked right back inside.

With a relaxing sigh, I gave a stretch and closed the window, opening my blinds and starting the day off with a bit of alternative instrumental tunes and a quick meal before work.  

I live alone in kind of a wooded area near town, in a pretty nice house in Concord, New Hampshire. It’s not a bad place. My father is a business owner and my mother is a flight attendant. They gave me the place when I turned 21 and I pretty much took it over from there from savings I stowed from years prior to working. I work in a pretty cool ass bar called "Synthtro." It’s not exactly on the map, it’s pretty discreet and you gotta know some people to get into it. How I got into it is kind of a long stor,y but I’ve been there for a couple years pretty much, and met some close friends of mine along the way.

Ronan, who mostly we call Ramone, is a male model for some magazine company. He keeps his life lowkey, but I don’t blame him for trying to live a normal lifestyle. He’s Italian but though he tries to stay lowkey, you could catch him at any kind of party.

Lucas is the more laidback guy of our group. You could catch him at any kind of convention, tournament, you name it, he was there. I joined him in some of his trips and I’ll admit I can’t wait to see what he’s up to next year.

Heather is the guy-girl of us. But she’s not the stereotypical gamer girl this generation labels them. She actually will kick your ass and embarrass you. She and Lucas