Fairydale a dark gothic.., p.1
Fairydale: A Dark Gothic Fantasy Romance, page 1
No Part of this publication may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photography, recording, or any information storage and retrieval system without the prior written consent from the publisher and author, except in the instance of quotes for reviews.
No part of this book may be uploaded without the permission of the publisher and author, nor be otherwise circulated in any form of binding or cover other than that in which it is originally published.
This is a work of fiction and any resemblance to persons, living or dead, or places, actual events or locales is purely coincidental. The characters and names are products of the author's imagination and used fictitiously.
Fairydale
Copyright © Veronica Lancet 2022
Cover by: Ever After Cover Designs
Edited by: Alex M.
Beta Read by: Oana D, Jennifer SF, Saba A, Samantha R.
Contents
Playlist
Preface
Prologue
Part One
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven
Chapter Eight
Chapter Nine
Part Two
Chapter Ten
Chapter Eleven
Chapter Twelve
Chapter Thirteen
Chapter Fourteen
Chapter Fifteen
Chapter Sixteen
Chapter Seventeen
Chapter Eighteen
Chapter Nineteen
Chapter Twenty
Chapter Twenty-One
Chapter Twenty-Two
Part Three
Chapter Twenty-Three
Chapter Twenty-Four
Chapter Twenty-Five
Chapter Twenty-Six
Chapter Twenty-Seven
Chapter Twenty-Eight
Chapter Twenty-Nine
Chapter Thirty
Chapter Thirty-One
Epilogue
Playlist
Check out the playlist of Spotify HERE!
Preface
Dear Reader,
Fairydale is a mix of gothic, horror, fantasy, and paranormal fiction with a dash of history, but at its core it's simply a love story. It's quite possibly my favorite story that I've written, and I hope you will enjoy it as much as I did writing it.
Before proceeding, there are a few disclaimers to address.
This is a long journey and if you're not a fan of complex narrative threads, lengthy books or slow burns, then this might not be the book for you.
This is also not the book to skim, or you may find yourself lost in a sea of information, which is, at times, purposefully misleading.
Though the story contains alternating historical timelines, due to the nature of the topic at hand, this does not attempt to be a piece of authentic historical fiction. I've tried to make those section digestible as possible while still keeping some historical realism.
The story can get quite dark and emotional at times, so I urge you to check the content warnings carefully before proceeding.
I hope you enjoy it and please do not spoil the story for others!
Content Warnings: blood (gore), blood play & period play, death, derogatory terms, discrimination, drugs, graphic torture, graphic violence, graphic sexual situations (humanoid & non-humanoid), incestuous situations, infertility, kidnapping, murder, rape, weapons, PTSD, suicide.
This eBook is exclusively available on Amazon. If you are accessing it anywhere else, know that it is an illegally obtained copy and it is very damaging to the author.
Prologue
The sun was setting and Lizette still could not bring herself to go back home. Not when her family would take one look at her and guess what had happened.
It hadn't been her fault—she was aware of that much. But she didn't think her family would agree. Certainly not her mother, who could barely stand the sight of her most days. If she knew, she would only have one more reason to hate her—potentially one more reason to send her away.
She was alone in the forest at night, a rather dangerous place to be in if you were female, but Lizette had already suffered the worst a woman could suffer. Even now, that place between her legs would not stop bleeding, no matter how much she tried to wipe it away with the material of her tattered sweater.
As she made her way towards the waterfall deep in the forest, her only thought was to wash away any trace of him off her body.
The sound of the water slowly reached her ears. Her cheeks were red, her tears already dried up. Yet as she came upon the waterfall, she couldn't help herself from crying anew.
She gently removed her clothing, careful of her wounds which still pained her a great deal. Neatly folding her dress on the ground, she neared the river bank as she dipped her toes into the water. The first chill caught her unawares, but then that's what she got for attempting to bathe in a river at the beginning of December.
Yet she still had one hidden weapon in her arsenal.
Rubbing her palms together, she willed the heat from her body to spread to the water in the river, making it the temperature she desired.
Lizette might not be as powerful as her mother, but she did have this one ability she was proud of—the ability to heat things up. Unfortunately, even that hadn't been enough to stop his attack.
When the water had warmed enough, Lizette submerged her entire body, scrubbing at her skin and wishing she could remove her memories as easily as she could his scent.
She spent moments on end in the river, dreading the fact that she would have to face reality when she was done.
Slowly, she got out of the water and for a moment simply stood on the river bank next to her dress, unable to bring herself to put on the garment again. Luckily, due to her ability, she could keep herself warm without the need for clothing.
Yet as she stood there contemplating her life, she noted a colorful butterfly flying close to the surface of the water.
She didn't know how any butterfly could survive a winter there, but she was too taken by the beautiful scene to question such a sighting.
The butterfly seemed to have a clear purpose as it headed straight for her, batting its brilliantly blue wings as it stopped right in front of her eyes. Before she realized what it meant to do, it went lower, settling on her lower stomach.
"What are you doing?"
She found the strength to smile anew as she thought herself so lucky that the beautiful butterfly had come to her.
"Of course you wouldn't answer back," she chided herself as she released a weary sigh.
As she stared at the butterfly, it suddenly turned with its head towards her, almost as if it understood her. Yet that was not the strangest thing.
In the blink of an eye, the butterfly slowly melted into her skin until nothing remained of its beautiful form.
Startled, Lizette stood up. She was afraid she might have harmed it with her abilities.
One day, she would realize that she hadn't killed the butterfly.
She'd given it life.
Part One
Chapter One
"Miss O'Sullivan, Miss O'Sullivan!
Turning my head in the direction of the voice calling my name, my mouth tugs up in a wide grin as I notice Stevie, one of my pupils, rush towards me.
"It's for you, Miss O'Sullivan!" He stops by my side, huffing out a breath as he extends a thick brown envelope. "Mrs. Jennings said it's for you."
My brows furrow in confusion. But as I accept the envelope, I confirm that it has my name scribbled at the top in immaculate penmanship.
Miss Darcy O'Sullivan.
More odd is the fact that there is no sender, nor a return address.
"Thank you, Stevie. Why don't you go back to the others. Lunch will be served soon," I smile at him as I ruffle his thick locks.
His lips spread into a huge smile as he grabs my waist in a tight hug, whispering a muffled I love you, Miss O'Sullivan, before he dashes away, his cheeks already tinged with red.
Shaking my head at his little stunt, I place the envelope under my arm as I head back to my room in the staff quarters.
Saint Russell Boarding School is one of the top boarding schools in the country, and though a requirement of my position had been to live on its premises, I'd been more than happy to do so considering the generous remuneration.
Reaching the hallway, I walk down to the third door before I knock carefully three times.
I share my room with Allison, another teacher who'd joined at the same time I did. I'd been extremely lucky to share the room with only one other person.
As a young child, I'd always slept in the same room with my mother, and after her death when I was ten years old, I was entrusted to an orphanage. There, the rooms could have eight or ten people at a time. Compared to that, the lodgings at Saint Russell are spectacular.
"Come in," Allison calls out in a groggy voice.
I push the door open, and Allison shuffles in her bed in an attempt to get up.
"No," I immediately call out. "Don't move on my account."
"It seems that every day you see me only in bed," Allison adds dryly, her mouth quirking up.
"It's not your fault you caught the flu. In fact," I say as I put the envelope on my bed before going over to hers. Placing my hand on
her forehead, I brush it across her skin, checking her temperature.
"You're not boiling anymore," I say, noting her chapped lips. Turning to the bed table, I pour her some water and hand her the glass. "Now you just need to hydrate yourself and you'll be as good as new."
"What would I do without you?" She smiles, shaking her head. "You should have applied for the nurse position, not the English teacher one. Everyone knows by now that you have a healing touch."
"You know I couldn't have," I flush lightly at her praise. "I didn't have the qualifications for that."
I'd been lucky enough that the sisters at the orphanage I grew up in had sponsored my training as a teacher, and upon finishing my course, they'd successfully placed me with Saint Russell.
Without them I would have never gotten where I am today and I am eternally grateful for everything they've done for me—particularly Sister Mary and Sister Anne. From the beginning they'd been my biggest champions, helping me succeed when the odds had been stacked against me.
"I can't imagine anyone being better than you. My fever didn't go down with all the medicine the doctor gave me, but it went away after that tea you made."
"Just lucky, I guess," I smile, smoothing her blanket around the edges.
I'd always been drawn to medicine and the art of healing, and at one point I might have entertained the thought of pursuing a career in it. But I couldn't have refused the sisters' offer knowing how hard they had looked out for me over the years. So I'd simply continued with teaching. As much as I enjoy preparing teas and tinctures, I love spending time with the kids and teaching them about the wonders of literature.
Any way I look at it, I can't help but feel like I've been continuously blessed with good fortune.
"What's that?" Allison points to the envelope.
"Oh, I forgot about it. I got mail," I quip enthusiastically. Except for the sisters, I don't have anyone who would send me anything, so my best estimate is that it's a package from them.
"I'm jealous. Those nuns of yours treat you better than my own mother treats me," Allison grumbles, but I know it's not with ill intent.
Sister Mary always sends me fabrics to make myself some clothes, while Sister Anne makes sure to send me a new book every month. It's their way of letting me know I'm always in their thoughts. In return, I make sure to send them tinctures I make with local plants.
"They are lovely, aren't they?" I sigh absentmindedly. Despite being orphaned so young, I consider myself incredibly lucky. I have a job and people who care about me. I have a roof over my head, a place to sleep and warm food in my belly. Regardless of how you look at my situation, it's far above average—certainly more than a lot of people can boast about.
Perhaps that is why I am reluctant to confess that there is something missing.
I love and am loved in return, yet there is a gaping hole in my heart that seemingly bleeds invisible blood.
It's something I've lived with my entire life—this sense of missing something integral to my being. But it's also something I've never admitted to anyone else. To do so would make me seem ungrateful, and that is the last thing I am.
I am just...restless.
Straining a smile, I take a seat on my bed as I open a drawer and rummage for a paper cutter. Carefully slicing the top of the envelope, I sneak my hand inside to pull the contents.
My eyes widen as I spot three different smaller envelopes—one very thick, and two other slim ones—together with a jewelry case.
"Is it the nuns?" Allison probes.
I shake my head slowly, blinking as I take in the contents. Once more, I turn the envelope around searching for the sender but there is none. Even the smaller ones are blank.
"Who is it then?"
"I don't know," I answer softly.
Curiosity gets the best of me as I open the thick envelope first, a gasp making its way past my lips as I see the green hue of the notes. And upon pulling them out, I'm shocked to see wads of cash unlike I've ever beheld in my life.
"Darcy, that's..."
"Who would send me so much money?" I whisper. My body is frozen in shock as I can't take my eyes off the money.
Allison is quicker than me as she comes to my side, taking a seat on the bed and counting the money.
"It's one thousand," she whispers, the awe in her voice mirroring my own. "One thousand dollars, Darcy. It's a quarter of what we make in a year."
"But how..."
"Check the letters," she points to the other two.
Using the paper cutter, I open the first envelope, fishing a neatly folded letter out of it and what looks to be a train ticket.
"So? What does it say?" Allison asks impatiently as my eyes scan the contents of the letter.
"It's from Mr. Vaughan. A lawyer," I mutter, unable to believe my eyes. "He claims he's writing on behalf of my biological father, Leo Pierce, who..." I swallow uncomfortably. "Recently passed away."
"Your biological father?" She frowns.
I'd already told her that I never knew who my father was. My mother had never revealed that information, and on the off-chance I asked about him, she would tell me he wasn't a good man.
"There's more," I whisper as I wet my lips. "He requests my presence at Leo Pierce's funeral, which will take place in three days, and for the reading of the will since I am included in it. But for that he wants me to come to my father's hometown—Fairydale."
"Fairydale," she frowns. "I've never heard of it."
"Apparently it's somewhere in Massachusetts," I say as I look at the train ticket.
It's labeled Boston-Fairydale, with a flexible date range of August 28th to August 31st.
"And he gave you a thousand dollars for what? It doesn't make sense," she comments.
"He says it's to make sure I have everything I need until I reach Fairydale."
And that's not everything.
Mr. Vaughan relates that I have other family members—two half-siblings. But going by their ages...
I barely stifle the gasp at the realization that not only am I illegitimate, but also most likely the product of an affair. And his wife will be there.
No, I couldn't possibly go knowing I would be unwelcome.
But as I read on, Mr. Vaughan assures me of the opposite.
"The family wishes to make your acquaintance as soon as possible," I read out loud.
"So you're going?" Allison asks, startling me from my daze. "You need to. If he gave you a thousand dollars for everything you need, then who knows what's in that will."
"I don't know..." I murmur, uncertainty clawing at me.
Once I finish the letter, I read it again. Something uncomfortable tugs at my chest, but I do not know what.
A thousand questions go through my mind at once.
Why now?
My father never bothered to contact me while he was still alive, so why would he go through the trouble of leaving me anything in his will?
But more than anything, how did this Mr. Vaughan track me to Saint Russell? How could he have known where I live unless...
"He must have known all along where I was," I whisper, blinking to chase away the sudden moisture coating my lashes.
My father, this Leo Pierce, must have known where I was all this time. And even knowing that, he left me to be raised by strangers, all alone in the world.
The realization leaves me reeling.
Instead of joy at finding out I have additional family, or that I may stand to inherit some good money, all I feel is unease.
Yet once that train of thought starts, nothing can stop it.
The money for my teaching course. My placement at Saint Russell. Was it all a farce, too? Were the sisters in on this as well?
I'd always wondered why me. Why was it that only I had been blessed to have so many things paid for when others could only dream of the same.
At the time, I'd thought I showed most promise, and it had been an entirely merit-based process. Now...the doubts are clamoring.
Allison takes the letter from my hand, quickly reading it from beginning to end.
"He's saying it's mandatory for you to go for the reading of the will," she points to the word mandatory in the letter—a word I'd skipped over as I was digesting everything.
"And if I don't?"
"Maybe they won't be able to read it? What if it's a condition for everyone to be there before they read it?"
