The Whisperer (part two)

June 18, 2010
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I stared at the house ahead of me. The house where it was rumored that Christine Lawrence had disappeared in. Good kid, although she always seemed a bit too inquisitive. Her parents panicked when she didn’t show up for two days. They called the police department, and I, being the only willing policeman, volunteered to find the poor girl. And here I am now, at a “haunted” house, too chicken to go inside. As any sensible man knows, there simply are no ghosts or monsters. Those are just stories for the feeble minded to shiver at… yet, the windows are dark, and the glass cracked, and evening is fast approaching… one would’ve thought that stories are not just stories… there is no smoke without a fire…

What am I doing, standing in place like a fool, I chided myself. This is a job that needs to be finished. Alison will be waiting with dinner and the kids with their games.

I stepped forward, and gingerly transferred my weight onto he wooden step. It creaked ominously. I climbed up another step. The wind picked up and tore at my jacket. I climbed up yet another one. The wind hurled itself through the trees, shrieking like a human. This is getting out of hand, I thought, leaped up the remaining steps, and jerked open the door. Quickly, I let myself in. The door slid shut with a creak. It was cold inside, very cold. And deathly still. My heartbeat seemed unnaturally loud. Too loud. I took out my flashlight, and pressed the on/off button. Nothing happened. How is this possible? I had replaced the batteries last night and checked to see if it had worked. I smothered my growing panic. A flashlight was not an absolute necessity, I decided, and turned into the room ahead of me. Hmm. A grand piano. And how beautiful. Alison would love this one. I walked closer to inspect it. I held out a finger to touch it… my neck started prickling. I spun around. Nothing. But… was it just me, or was that stain on this chair new? I leaned closer and touched it with my finger. It felt wet. I brought my finger closer to my eyes. It was dripping with a dark liquid. My heart sprung to my throat and threatened to leap by. It was not just any liquid. It was blood. A slight breeze stirred the damp hairs on my forehead. Something cold touched my back.
“Hello there, who’s fooling with me?” I asked the motionless air in a shaking voice. The silence that followed chilled my soul. I scolded myself for my foolishness. Who could possibly be here? Or was the correct question what could possibly be here?

No, I would forget all this for today, and return tomorrow. It was impossible for me to do any work with my nerves getting out of hand. I stepped toward the door. In that instant, I felt a frosty breath on my ear.
“Leaving so soon?” a voice sounding as if its owner was being choked made me jump. “This can’t be happening, my nerves are getting the better of me,” I muttered to myself, my thudding heart denying these words. I squeezed my eyes shut, willing that when I opened them I would find myself in my home.

“This is no dream…” the voice came again.

My eyes snapped open, and my throat constricted as I glimpsed a dark shadow approaching me.

“S-s-stop these games right now,” I stammered, as I backed away from the shadow, my hands groping for the doorway I came through. What was happening with me? Numerous times, I had faced fanatical criminals without flinching. But now I am cowering at the sight of a mere shadow?

“This is no game,” the whisper engulfed my body and rocked it with tremors of pure terror.

My back slammed against a door. A door that had not existed when I entered this cursed room. My only escape route was cut off. A realization struck me that this was how Christine disappeared. My hand reached impulsively for my flashlight. I flung it at the fast-approaching figure. The flashlight immediately dropped to the floor when it left my hands. The shadow chuckled, a rasping sound that cut my ears. My back was all wet now, and sticky. A liquid had seeped through the fabric of my jacket. A jagged finger reached out and touched my neck. I could not breathe. My last thought was that Alison would be worried when I would not come home. My body crumpled, and all became blank.

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This article has 10 comments. Post your own now!

Blue4 said...
Oct. 24, 2011 at 5:11 pm
Whoever keeps giving me one out of five stars on all my work needs to stop, seriously. FYI, trying to lower other people's ratings does not bring you any higher; just shows what kind of person you are. If you don't have anything to do with your time, it's your problem- not mine. If you don't like what I write, fine, but be so kind as to leave a comment with constructive critisicm, instead of acting like a five year old.
ilovewriting95 This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. said...
Aug. 7, 2010 at 3:24 pm
Great job and I can tell that your story is getting better too. I liked this part better than the first part. Great job!
Blue4 replied...
Aug. 9, 2010 at 10:35 am
Thanks, I agree with you, the first disappearance seems a little fake to me.
ilovewriting95 This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. replied...
Aug. 12, 2010 at 12:49 pm
You're welcome. keep writing... they're good.
Discerning Reader said...
Jul. 17, 2010 at 5:07 pm
Excellent voice and solid writing. I enjoyed this piece a lot..
Blue4 replied...
Jul. 17, 2010 at 7:38 pm
Thanks!! The next part is up!
Diane said...
Jul. 14, 2010 at 6:25 pm
Article was very nicely written.  As I read, I had a clear picture and felt the action and drama while going through all motions.  Descriptions were well captured!  Thank you and keep on wiriting.
Blue4 replied...
Jul. 17, 2010 at 7:37 pm
Thank you very much! The third part is posted!
gymbabe This work has been published in the Teen Ink monthly print magazine. said...
Jun. 23, 2010 at 4:55 pm
This was great, very suspenseful, please write more!
Blue4 replied...
Jun. 24, 2010 at 1:35 pm
Thank you... I'm submitting more!
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