PREFACE: THE BIRTH OF THE THORN
It all started with a loud boom.
The sky over the city didn’t just crack; it shattered. A jagged streak of lightning ripped through the blackness, striking the old house with enough violent force to make the floorboards groan, and the glass panes rattle in their frames.
In the sudden, blinding flash, she was just a little girl. Nine, maybe ten years old. Small, fragile, and utterly paralyzed by the fury of the storm. As the thunder roared right over the roof, threatening to swallow the house whole, she did what any frightened child would do.
She pulled the heavy blankets over her head, burying herself in the suffocating warmth, hiding under her covers.
She lay there in the dark, her heart hammering against her ribs like a trapped bird. She listened to the rain lash against the window like claws trying to get in. She was terrified. She was helpless. And in that pitch-black cocoon, as the house shook with another deafening explosion of sound, something inside her snapped.
The fear didn’t melt away. It hardened. It turned into something sharp, cold, and heavy.
Underneath those covers, a quiet stillness washed over her. She stopped trembling. She squeezed her eyes shut and made a vow—a silent, binding oath carved into the dark of her bedroom. She promised herself that she would never be the one hiding in the shadows again. She would become the thing the shadows were afraid of. She would make the world learn what it felt like to freeze in the dark.
That little girl was Mallice Thorne.
And by the time she finally pulled the covers back down, the light in her eyes was gone.
Michelle leaned back, a massive, proud grin on her face. “If you post that as a teaser or a preface on Inkitt, Terrex, the comments section is going to explode. It gives the readers fair warning: the nightmare has officially begun.”
