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Hunted
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Whispers of the Devil Swamp
BaileySomething sinister is watching me from across the swamp.I stand in the window of Robert’s bedroom, squinting out into the oppressive darkness, but there’s nothing much for me to see. The emergent structure of the nearly finished house juts out over the tops of the cypress trees like the horns of some monstrous beast. Beyond, the swamp lies swathed in humid shadow, as still and silent as the graves that sink ever deeper into the putrid muck.Whatever waits for me in the marsh, it doesn’t show itself. Not tonight, at least.I shiver and draw the blinds, blotting out the night beyond the window.Beside me, Robert doesn’t stir. He’s been asleep for about half an hour now after receiving another dose of pain medication. Hopefully, he’ll slumber through the night. I’ve already cleaned and bandaged his wound, so there’s not much for me to do now other than check in on him periodically. I decide to head downstairs to the kitchen and make a cup of coffee to help keep me awake throughou
Whispers of the Devil All Fall Down
TannerI don’t believe in ghosts.At least, that’s what I tell myself as I linger in the backyard of the old Gregory place. The swamp stretches out before me, the ancient cypress trees cloaked in green haze beneath the overcast sky. From where I stand with the house rearing up behind me, I can almost taste the fetid stench of the mire. It’s the smell of decay and rotting things, a primal scent that sets my nerves on fire.It reeks of danger and death.But is there something more out there, lurking amidst the sunken tombstones? My mind drifts back to the figure I followed into the swamp and the face I saw in the mirror, and I have my answer.“Stay the fuck away from us,” I mutter. Even though my voice is low, I have a feeling that the thing in the marsh will hear me anyway.I turn away then and traverse across the brittle lawn back toward the house.The structure is very nearly finished. The new materials of the exterior are pristine, though I know that nature will render them dull and
Whispers of the Devil Make It Go Away
Bailey“Holy shit!” I whisper.I’m sitting at one of the computers in the Hahnville Public Library, which doubles as the town’s historical records center. After arguing with Tanner this morning, I’m now determined to find something, anything, to explain the things we’ve been experiencing. With the article that’s currently on the screen in front of me, I think I may have just hit the jackpot.Twenty-seven murders have been connected to the property in the better part of the last century.I’m no expert in homicide statistics, but I’d bet good money that that number is way higher than the average.As I skim the cramped text of the article, which is published on a sleek-looking true crime website, a pattern starts to emerge. Most of the victims were men from out of town. The vast majority of suspects were women, and all but six of the alleged murderers ended up in psychiatric facilities. The others had committed suicide before the police could catch up with them. All of the people involve
Whispers of the Devil Something’s Out There
TannerThree stories is a hell of a long way down.I’m standing at the window Henri fell from, my feet planted where his must have been less than twenty-four hours before. I imagine the pressure of two hands on my shoulder blades, of the sudden weightlessness as gravity takes hold. Had Henri been afraid while he was falling? Or had been too surprised to even realize what was happening? What would it feel like to fly for just a moment?Why don’t you try it and see?The thought scratches at the edge of my brain, and before I can even process it, one of my hands reaches out toward the closed frame of the window.“Tyler?” a voice calls from the room behind me.I jolt, the sudden sound tugging me back from the window. My mind races as I realize what I had been doing, and I try to keep the fear off my face as I turn to the speaker.Jack, the new owner of the Gregory place, is standing in the doorway with his arms crossed. Anger radiates off him in sour waves, and I can’t help but judge him
Whispers of the Devil Visions of Evil
BaileyThis can’t be real.My heart thuds against my ribs as my eyes dart around the familiar space. Everything is the same as it was before the fire. The wallpaper, lovingly restored by Dalton, is fresh and vibrant. The surface of the dining room table gleams as though it’s just been polished. Warm yellow light spills down from the chandelier, the crystal beads clinking delicately amidst a backdrop of suffocating silence.It’s Miss Penny’s dining room at the old Gregory place.Logically, I know I can’t really be here. Here doesn’t even exist anymore. I watched the flames consume the house, tearing at the old wooden frame with a thousand grasping fingers. The heat was unbearable, and I coughed for weeks afterward from breathing in so much smoke.So how am I here?The last thing I remember is going to sleep after coming home from my night shift. So this must be a dream. There’s nothing else it can be. And yet…I stare at the table, which should be burned to a crisp along with the rest
Whispers of the Devil Chat with the Devil
Tanner“You want a hand with that, boss?”I glance up from the section of wall I’m measuring in the kitchen and smile thinly at Jose. “Nah, I’ve got it,” I tell him. “Thanks though.”“If you’re sure.” The foreman shrugs. His eyes flicker to the window and the setting sun beyond. “Do you at least want some company? Being alone in this place in the dark would give me the creeps.”“I’ll be fine,” I assure Jose with confidence that I don’t quite feel. In truth, I would rather not be here at all, let alone after nightfall, but the contract is on the line. I can’t afford for Jack to come up for a surprise visit and find the kitchen wall still scratched up. He’d probably fire me on the spot.The foreman doesn’t seem quite convinced, but still he turns to leave. “Just call me if shit gets weird,” he throws over his shoulder. “See ya on Monday!”“Later,” I toss back.I lean against the wall and listen as Jose bustles out of the house, crunches across the gravel driveway, and gets in his truck.
Whispers of the Devil That's Not Tanner
BaileyTanner didn’t come home last night.It’s evident as soon as I step through the front door after my night shift at the Wilson’s. At barely past 6:00 in the morning, I should hear him snoring away or bustling in the kitchen getting breakfast ready, but my ears are met only with silence.“Tanner?” I call, even though I know in my bones that there’s nobody here to answer.Unease creeps beneath my skin as I hang up my purse on the hook beside the door and kick off my shoes. There’s still no movement in the depths of our home, and as I wander from room to room, I realize that nothing’s changed since I left the night before. The bed’s in disarray, the sheets tangled and the comforter crumpled halfway onto the floor. The dishes in the sink are untouched, food in the fridge uneaten. Emptiness hangs in the air, vacant and suffocating.Where could he be?I stop in the doorway to the bedroom. Even my phone is still on the bedside table, plugged into the outlet. After it kept playing that h
Whispers of the Devil Memories Gone
TannerWhat the fuck happened last night?I’m lying in bed–alone. There’s a terrible taste in my mouth, like I’ve been sucking up swamp water through a straw. My head is pounding, and when I try to open my eyes, my left lid won’t budge. Every muscle in my body aches as though I went toe-to-toe with a semi-truck and lost.Groaning, I roll out of bed in spite of my body’s protests. I’m so thirsty. All I can think of is downing a nice, cool glass of water.I stumble into the bathroom, half-blind, and after one glance in the mirror, it’s immediately apparent why I can’t see properly. One of my eyes is bruised and blackened, the lid entirely swollen shut. When I press my fingertips to my cheekbone, I wince in pain.“What the fuck?” I mutter, squinting at my reflection. The shiner isn’t the only injury I have. There’s blood caked around my mouth and down my chin, and my lip is split. Below that, mottled purple bruises creep over the skin of my neck and collarbone.I feel like I’ve been in
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