He had been inspecting the hospital for four days, speaking with the sick and dying children who had no family to come visit them as they lay in their sterile white beds. He had listened to the ancient nurse and caretaker as she sang to the orphans each night. It was a strange song, soothing but also somehow disturbing. It reached deep inside him, touching the edges of his mind like a faded memory.
And it was strange how his clothes seemed to be one size larger than a few days ago, and how he had developed a persistent cough.
Novel: Occult Adventure
The moon was somewhere high in the sky judging from the silvery haze. Sam was on watch, and he already had arrow to bow when he woke me. I didn’t have to ask what it was; I heard. A multitude of voices whispered in the dark, barely audible over the crackle of the fire. I looked around us, trying to gauge where they were all coming from, but the breeze confused them, sent them rushing around. For a horrible moment I feared we might be surrounded, and I brought out my pistol expecting to be ambushed. But I could hear no crowd of snapping twigs under feet, no myriad of crunching snow. There was only one set of footsteps.
Sam and I both aimed for the source of the noise, for the shadow that materialized at the edge of the firelight. The voices were all coming from that one figure, as if it held an army behind it.
Continue reading “The Fallowing – The Third, Part II”
“Daddy, she’s at the window again.”
I open my eyes to see Arty standing next to my bed. He points to the window behind me and I lift my head to look. There is a dark figure sitting at the window, watching the snow fall outside.
I open my eyes. It was just a dream. Arty isn’t in the room, and the figure at the window…
I roll over. She’s there, sitting at the window. She begins to turn to me.
I open my eyes. Just a dream. But I can feel her eyes on me, watching. I roll over…