[Bryceton Series: Tortured Souls]

-CHAPTER ONE-

Icy cold sweat rolls down my thin smooth face as the darkness clings tightly onto me. I gasp for air as I sit up in my old queen sized bed as the nightmare plays lively in my head as I fight back the images of his still body lying on the living room floor. Though as usaul, the more I fight back the horrid picture the more it haunts me, as if in an odd way it is teasing me or playing some odd and twisted game with me. Silently I wipe my face with my thin lenghty hands as the sounds of house ring out at me, growing louder by the second it seems. Once again the picture of his thick body lying there while I walk in screams at me behind my eyes and I squeeze my eyes close, hoping they would just go away.

Loosing the battle with the images in my head I slowly swin my lean lengthy legs over the side of the bed as I read the digital clock that luminates three in the morning. I sigh as I think of all I have to do today and yet know I won't be able to go back to sleep, leaving me to work with four hours of sleep. An hour more than usaul since the incident had occured only two weeks ago. I stand still in place as the dark room seems to spin around me as the images play tricks in my mind. Slowly I fall into what I have been taught growing up, counting on prayer, of which I have lacked since the horrid incident. I pray to myself for the sight of my uncle lying on the floor to vanish from my dreams and from my head, that I will be strong enough to move on with my life.

Closing my weak prayer I glance over to my right at my cousin who sleeps silently in his single bed. His sheets are tossled around him as he rolls from his right side to his back in his sleep. I watch him sleep filled with my own love and affection toward him, the one that has been there for me through all of this, as he has been throughout all my life. Slowly I shift in place and slowly walk to the door and slowly open it, making sure it don't squeek to awaken my cousin. Slipping out of my caved in room, I quickly close the door behind me and walk into the living room where more darkness invades, taking over the old house. Through the darkness I move through the known living room across the old oak desk that sits against the wall, that seperates the two hallways. Passing the old desk I quickly turn left into the larger of the two halls.

In the second hall I slowly stand in the middle of the hall where a closed door sits to my left and an open door sits to my right. Without thought I abrupty turn to my left and carefully open the door as if afraid that I'd awaken someone. Thick darkness lingers in the old bed room, an almost evil darkness that sends chills racing down my spine as more pictures lividly play in my mind, of that dreadful day. Slowly I move my right arm up as the horrid day's painful memory grabs ahold of me, making everything seem so heavy and forceful. Slowly I flip on the lights from the light switch to my right as numbness grabs ahold of me. In the lighted room I take a look around the large room that once belonged to my uncle, to the uncle that was more my dad than anything, who was so loving and caring. He was always there for me until I had went home early that day to find him spread on the living room floor covered in his own blood, a horrid expression on his face. He is no longer here for me and I feel so lost and worthless without him.

Numbly I step ahead near his sliding light brown wooden door closet that holds his clothes, a dark brown chesnut dresser sits on the other side of the closet, entrapped in the corner. A small window lies a couple of inches from the corner of the room, where a small ray of light from the bright moon beams in through the thin laced curtains. A foot from the window lies a small desk with a large mirror in front of it, the wooding matching the dark chesnut dresser; the desk where he spent so many nights at writing in his journal or in a current story that he loved to write. Against the right wall lies his large thick queen sized bed that remains covered in his thick off white comforter that he loved so much. Besides his bed lies the matching dark chesnut wood night stand that holds more pictures like the dresser holds, within it's drawer his small Bible remains nested neatly in there along with a small notebook that he had scribbled ideas in.

I stand only a couple of feet from his old bed, my feet feeling numb, almost as if my bare feet has somehow grown attached to the old polished light brown wooding floor. Slowly I force myself to walk to the bed where I sit down upon the left half of the bed, slowly running my callused hand over his loved comforter. Memories flood through my head of all the times I had come running to him from a bad dream where he would sit in his bed holding me, comforting me until my tears stopped and my breathing calmed back down to normal. He would then would gently tuck me into bed besides him, watching me until I fell back asleep.

Quickly that day's events display themself behind my eyes like a horrid picture show that continues over and over. The room seems to darken through the light as tears reach my eyes at the realization that he really is gone, that he isn't coming back. I feel myself go weak suddenly and without thought I lie my head on his soft feather pillow, smelling his aroma from his pillow. Tears swell up in my eyes rolling down onto the pillow as I allow them to do so, not caring any more if Luke were to walk in and see me crying like a baby. Through the haze of my tears I look up at the pictures on his night stand, two of them. Both of them was of my uncle before I was born, with his wife and child, both of whom died before I was born. Jesse's eyes shine with pride and love for his wife and child, as well as his love for life. Jesse loved life, but most of all he loved his children, even the ones his wife didn't bear; Luke, Daisy, and I. He loved us as if we were his own, placing us in front of anything else that mattered to him. And now he is no longer here.

Feeling my body begin to tremble in my tears I try to force myself under control, afterall I am now twenty-one years old. I can never remember seeing Luke cry, he didn't even have a tear in his eyes on the day of his funeral, even though I know he was very pained by loosing his uncle, his father. But I haven't even stopped crying since I had walked in and saw him lying on the floor in his own pool of blood, the most blood I have ever seen in my whole life! The memory of that nightmarish moment displays itself clearly in my head, taunting me with the fear that had arose when I walked into the living room that day.

Darkness slowly fades in as tears still continue to flood down my cheeks, my body trembling horribly as the flashback continues to flash in my head. Darkness that I don't welcome, even though I need the sleep, but sleep means that the nightmare will come back and I'll awake once again covered in icy cold sweat and yelling, perhaps bringing everyone's attention. Though no matter how hard I fight against sleep, sleep over takes me and I no longer can feel the trembling of my body or the thudding of my heart or my fight for air.

[Fanfic Character Biographies]

Here is one of my character's biography:

Kristian Marie Duke (Kristy)-

Kristy is currently twenty-six years old and is five feet and four inches tall with green-blue eyes that are soft and gentle, along with loving and caring. She has thick, soft, and long strawberry blond hair that she pulls the sides up into a large barrette usaully, her thick hair is naturally curly at the ends of the hair, large curls. She has a soft tan complexion. She was born on July 18, 1975 to Jeremiah and Jayne Duke, who divorced when she was three years old and then moved to Knoxville, TNN from Hazzard County; so Jayne could marry a rich lawyer who she has two boys to; everyone being protective of Kristy since she is the only girl or sister. She returned to Hazzard every weekend to see her dad until he disappeared from Hazzard in attempt to run out on his second wife.

She married Trevor Hodges, her long time boyfriend, after finding out she was pregnant. Once married Trevor began abusing her over trivial stuff, though she was too afraid to leave him...while fighting to protect Jamie Lynn...her first daughter. Three years later she found that she was pregnant and a couple months later after Trevor abusing her so bad that she was scared for her unborn baby's life, she bravely walked out on him, taking Jamie with him. She later delivered him the divorce papers, restraining him any visitation to thier children. Though after a year he returned wishing for vegence toward her, only to be stopped by Garrett Duke, where they both ran off to Hazzard County, to start a new life.

Kristy is Bo's half sister whose life revolves around her children: Jamie Lynn Duke and Shayne (Shay) Micheal Duke, her one main reason for awakening every morning. She now is a secetary for Boss Hogg and enjoys her job, even though Hogg pushes her hard for everything that is asked for. Kristy owns a 2000 black 4x4 Silverado truck with tinted windows that William, her step-dad bought her for her birthday, that she has named Silver Bullet.

Kristy is a very caring and loving person, who gives her best at everything she does. She has a can-do attitude and dislikes negative attitude. She is willing to help anyone in need of any help or just to be there to listen whenever anyone needs to talk to someone. She is determined to do the right thing and has a slight temper that she holds back on most occasions. She is willing to work hard to achieve a positive out come, she is strong willed. She knows what she wants and is willing to work for it.

Kristy enjoys spending time with her family, trying to get reaquinted with Jesse and Daisy as well as trying to get to know her brother that she thought was dead, Bo. Her hobbies are: reading, helping others, spending time with family, cooking and cleaning, playing baseball, and writing.

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How's that for a biography? Hope y'all like it...if so I can write one for Garrett and Tobias.