About This Book
Captive of Darkness
Lillith was young, strangely pretty, and different. The townspeople called her a witch because she lived in the ominous, walled mansion known as Clarke House. Her aunt, with whom she shared the shadowy darkness of Clarke House, called her other things. — Litllith was little more than a slave to the old woman who had raised her, held to her by an unspeakable bond. she knew fear her every waking moment, terror every night, yet she did not know herself. Then one day something so horrifying happened that she was forced to seek the truth. But in a house shrouded in nightmarish deceits, the innocent and the curious were damned ...
Night of Horror
"Lillith! Open the door, child!"
Aunt Veeva's voice was far off. "There's no one there," I called. "There's just the rain ... the vines ... and ..."
There it was, half hidden in the shadows of the trellis. It had heard my voice. It was coming forward.
Pressed against the pane, the flesh of its nose almost covering one square and two enormous eyes peering in from those above, was the demon. Her face was wild, streaked with rain. Matted hair stuck to her skin like that of something drowned. She had truly come from beyond the earth's sphere.
"Lillith, let me in!"
I was lost ...
