In the eerie, enigmatic town of Lost Grove, where secrets whispered among the rustling pines are as thick as the fog rolling in from the sea, the discovery of Sarah Elizabeth Grahams' lifeless corpse on the windswept beach is but the first note in a haunting symphony of mysteries.
Sergeant Seth Wolfe, the town's tenacious lawman, penetrates the cryptic and labyrinthine secrets veiled beneath the town's murky facade. Suspects multiply like whispers in a haunted forest, but each lead unravels, and the mysteries of the case deepen.
Local teenagers are driven to answer the riddle of their friend's vanished brother and expose the sinister secrets an affluent local institute harbor. Bringing their disturbing findings to Seth, he discovers eerie parallels between their quest and his case.
As Seth dives deeper into the abyss of darkness gripping Lost Grove, a chilling web of malevolence begins to tighten its grip, ensnaring them all in a nightmarish dance that will test the limits of their resolve.
In the eerie, enigmatic town of Lost Grove, where secrets whispered among the rustling pines are as thick as the fog rolling in from the sea, the discovery of Sarah Elizabeth Grahams' lifeless corpse on the windswept beach is but the first note in a haunting symphony of mysteries.
Sergeant Seth Wolfe, the town's tenacious lawman, penetrates the cryptic and labyrinthine secrets veiled beneath the town's murky facade. Suspects multiply like whispers in a haunted forest, but each lead unravels, and the mysteries of the case deepen.
Local teenagers are driven to answer the riddle of their friend's vanished brother and expose the sinister secrets an affluent local institute harbor. Bringing their disturbing findings to Seth, he discovers eerie parallels between their quest and his case.
As Seth dives deeper into the abyss of darkness gripping Lost Grove, a chilling web of malevolence begins to tighten its grip, ensnaring them all in a nightmarish dance that will test the limits of their resolve.
The scent wafting down the stony shore into her sensitive nostrils alerted Mary to the human body ahead. Unlike the peculiar sea creature that had washed ashore the last time they’d had a massive storm during a full moon, a human body had a particular essence that clung to the back of her throat. It was both pleasing and gag-inducing. Involuntarily, Mary’s feet slowed from a steady gallop to a walk. The pressure in her teeth tightened, a stinging pain along her gums that came with the odor of flesh. A pressing urge to move away overcame her because of the overwhelming aura of death clinging to that base level of pleasure. She should move away from the frail, pale body lying on the beach. Her stomach clenched in spasms of hunger. Instead, Mary pressed onward.
The sound of her running shoes pressing down upon the pebbles and sand rattled in her ears with each crunch of granules, the sliding screech of rock on rock. Like the commotion of an orchestra behind the curtain waiting to play, the noise became distinct before she pushed it away. The massive driftwood tree, also washed ashore during the last storm, was now surrounded by smaller chunks of wood and seaweed. The body lay in the shallow bowl of sand, like some peculiar funeral bed against the driftwood headboard.
Mary’s feet came to a stop six meters from the corpse. The grey-blue of dawn painted the world in a dreamy haze. It was her favorite time, her favorite color, that intangibly transparent yet cloudy blue. Her gaze danced out to the waves at sea. Their languid roll to shore like the Dr. Jekyll to the Mr. Hyde waves that had crashed ashore two nights ago. Mary had stood on the beach that night, her long dark blonde hair whipping her face and neck, hoping for a rogue wave and wishing the tide would pull her below. The cravings came hard and fast these days. They overwhelmed her to the point she lost reason. Mary longed to end them. Skin drenched and rain-lashed, she hadn’t felt the cold or the sting that night. Not the way others would.
She played her tongue over the elongated eyeteeth, touching the tender flesh surrounding them. The carrion smell of the young woman now lying before her drew them out. Mary moved closer, lazy steps. No one else was on the beach, and no one would be for hours. And the dunes formed a natural barrier from the road. Any passing car would be too far away to notice Mary, let alone the beautiful corpse now at her feet.
“Odd,” she started, “how the shade of dawn now paints your decomposing flesh.”
The top layer of the body’s skin was dull porcelain. Her auburn hair lacked the brilliance it emitted when she was alive. Her eyes were milky and vacant, lips a mauve blue.
Mary tilted her head, examining the corpse. “Sarah Elizabeth, what did you get yourself into?”
Sarah’s body appeared freshly washed, no dirt, debris, bruises, or foreign bodies sullying her beautiful form. The position of her arms, legs, and head made it seem like she had posed for an angelic painting and then simply died. The barest sign of footprints showed in the sand, but the residual winds from the storm masked them to the point that Mary wouldn’t say she could recognize them as male or female. Her gaze returned to Sarah Elizabeth, naked and blue.
“The breeze, the breath of God, is still,” Mary whispered, reciting the macabre Edgar Allan Poe poem that sprung to mind.
“And the mist upon the hill
Shadowy, shadowy, yet unbroken,
Is a symbol and a token.
How it hangs upon the trees,
A mystery of mysteries,” Mary recited.
The gravel crackled under the toes of her shoes as she bent easily over the body. A lithe grace that came from miles of running and hours on a yoga mat, exertions that abated cravings Mary could not satisfy. When she was younger, specialists said she had a form of pica, the desire to eat objects or substances that were not edible. Her eating habits had caused forms of anemia, and her desire for iron, or rather blood and raw meat, were “unsavory” habits her parents desired she abandon. Mary had always known her affliction was more than a diagnosis modern doctors could conceptualize.
The scent of the recently deceased young woman grew more intense. Mary’s nostrils flared—a tantalizing sweet smell. The fragrance of death began wrapping Sarah Elizabeth in a cloak of decay, shifting a prehistoric, animalistic button inside Mary’s brain. She swallowed forcefully. The desire to chew on something made the freshly dead flesh look like a raw cut of prime beef. Instead, she crouched and took up a nice flat stone from near the body. Mary placed it on her tongue, savoring the weight of it, the salty brine and metallic cool that pooled in her mouth.
Thankful for the momentary release the stone provided, Mary righted her body, standing once more over Sarah Elizabeth. Mary pushed the rock into her cheek like a piece of hard candy.
“What to do with you?” she asked herself.
Mary had known Sarah since the child was born. Now Mary knew her in death. She tilted her head back, observed the steel-blue sky, then pivoted her body to look toward town. Lost Grove was quiet and still in the early hours of the morning. Calling the police station would click over to the answering service. Mary was in no mood to deal with a switchboard operator who would ask her fifty questions.
“Time to get up, Chief Richards,” she said, deciding.
Mary loped down the beach, her feet carrying her smoothly across the stony shore toward town. She’d weave through the quaint Victorian homes and stop at a modern ranch-style house on Bluff Street. Chief of Police Bill Richards and his wife would startle awake to a loud banging on their door. He would find a note pinned under a small, smooth stone, Mary’s saliva already drying on the surface of it. The note would tell him to search Mourner’s Beach for Sarah Elizabeth’s body. At the bottom, in fine print, “Hint: she’s by the pile of driftwood.”
A note is left on the Sherif’s door reporting a dead body on an eerie beach which sets in motion an investigation that links several intriguing characters to a harrowing medical facility – The Orbriallis Institute – in the small, fictional town of Lost Grove. Part One follows the beginning stages of the investigation and introduces a string of loveable characters: Sergeant Seth Wolfe, the town’s witch Story Palmer, ‘vampire’ Mary Germaine, high schoolers Noble, Anya and the Graff twins, and, of course, the deceased herself – Sarah Elizabeth Grahams. As Sarah’s death is investigated, readers are thrust into the lives of wholesome, multi-faceted and irrevocably connected characters, but are not shown so much as to end the story in one book. This is a series so expect more mystery to come in The Orbriallis Institute, Lost Grove: Part Two.
The opening scenes are so vividly described that they invite readers into a blue-grey, foggy world of utter horror, mystery and uncertainty. The unnatural, hair-raising atmosphere sets a biting tone and just enough information is given to indicate that something is not quite right which builds up the suspense. Retrospective chapters are used as flashbacks to connect the past and present events which offers a unique and thrilling touch to the storyline’s structure.
Lost Grove’s narrative jumps between individual characters’ viewpoints that put small pieces of the larger puzzle in place, slowly connecting them and their oddities to the murder investigation and/or the bewildering Orbiallis Institute. This structure allows for more detailed, complex characters.
For example, Sarah Elizabeth’s storyline is so comprehensive that she becomes a main character who draws the reader in and leaves them wanting justice for her death. This made for an exciting and enjoyable journey through the investigation that other mainstream detective novels have yet to achieve. To this end, Zang and Knudsen have created a collection of outstanding characters that readers have yet to discover fully but can’t wait to follow in Part Two.
Despite a riveting storyline, some dialogue felt forced and over-written particularly in scenes involving the teenagers and between Seth and Sherif Richards. Additionally, some small but clear typos (Anya’s name was spelled “Anaya” on page 400) should have been caught in the editing process which lost this book a star.
The overall storyline sets the scene for a captivating world with endless possibilities and that gives off Stephen King horror story-like vibes. This is of particular interest to fans of horrors, thrillers, mysteries and the supernatural. If you are looking for an ending to this story, I suggest you wait for Part Two as Part One will leave you wondering if there is a link between The Orbriallis Institute and the abnormal collection of characters, what happened in Seth’s traumatic past and just who is this ‘Green Man’.