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The State of Sunshine
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Whispers of the Devil Julia and Jack
JuliaI hate this place.As the movers scurry about, hauling boxes and expensive furniture under Jack’s watchful eye, I lounge in a deck chair with a glass of lemonade in one hand, trying not to cry.This whole place is ghastly, no matter where I turn. The landscapers had been out a few weeks earlier and had turned the backyard where I’m currently sitting into a patchwork of sod. Unfortunately, it hadn’t taken, and the grass is now dead and lifeless. Beyond, the yard gives way to mud and marsh. Cypress trees rise up in gnarled fingers, their roots hidden by murky sludge. Insects whine and drone amid the greenish haze.I won’t even let myself think about those dreadful tombstones. Jack’s been arguing with the town for permission to remove the cemetery, but so far, he hasn’t been able to cut through the red tape. I take another sip of lemonade and then press the side of the sweating glass against my forehead. How is it so hot? It’s early November. Even the mountains of snow we had whil
Whispers of the Devil The House
LaylaThere isn’t much that can scare me. Maybe that’s why I became a nurse. Maybe that’s why I didn’t balk at the idea of spending a summer in an entirely creepy, and no doubt haunted, French Colonial style mansion smack dab in the center of a swamp, cypress lined property in Hahnville, Louisiana. I’ve seen scarier places. I’ve walked the haunted halls of hospitals all over the country during my four years of being a travel nurse. I’ve seen things in emergency rooms that would make someone’s nightmares look and sound like child's play. This place doesn’t scare me. Although, maybe it should. Mom’s voice rattles in my ear as she pleads, “Layla, seriously, you can turn around and come home!”“I already signed the paperwork,” I say with a sigh, narrowing my eyes at the gargantuan structure looming in the distant haze of summer. Overhead, cypress trees hang with vines that dust the top of my Toyota 4-Runner, the only major purchase I’ve ever made in my life. Before this moment, I’d b
Whispers of the Devil Aunt Penny
LaylaAunt Penny could be mistaken for a child from a distance. The top of her silver hair barely reaches my sternum as she rests in her bed, and I’m not a tall woman, by any means. She’s definitely not the withered old crone I expected, not with her dainty, childlike features and huge, blue eyes. I’ve never even seen a picture of her before. In truth, I could count on one hand the number of times her name had been brought up in conversation. I’m not sure what I imagined her to look like. All I had to go off were stories about this place and this specific family line. But her brow isn’t perpetually pinched. Her nose isn’t long and gnarled and covered with warts. Her fingernails can’t scratch my eyes out, and I doubt she had a cauldron hidden somewhere in the house where she boiled potions. She doesn’t look like the witch my family made her out to be. It makes me sad, honestly, seeing her lying motionless in the massive four-poster bed. It swallows her tiny body whole, making her l
Whispers of the Devil Haunted
LaylaBailey dumps an assortment of pastries on a serving platter in the humid, sun drenched kitchen. I lean on the counter and take a sip of my iced latte, praying the caffeine will hit my system and thaw the numbness still gripping my body. Whatever happened earlier this morning still has me in somewhat of a trance. I can’t shake the feeling I hadn’t been alone in that upstairs hallway, and especially that I hadn’t been alone in my room. “You’re holding that coffee like it’s a weapon.” Bailey giggles, rolling her eyes as she picks up the platter and sets it on the kitchen table. “Are you okay?”“I didn’t sleep well at all,” I admit, blinking into the unforgiving sunlight. God, it’s hot. It’s not even 8:00 in the morning. and the entire room is already suffocating with heat. I press the plastic cup to my temple and sigh with relief. Bailey watches me curiously for a moment then shrugs. “You should go get some rest, then. You’re the night nurse, remember? You should really be getti
Whispers of the Devil A Figure
LaylaAunt Penny stares ahead, per usual, looking at everything and nothing all at once. I turn a page in the book I’ve been reading aloud to her the past four nights. She recently started a new blood pressure medication that’s supposed to make her feel drowsy, but so far, it’s having the opposite effect. The old woman has been staring into space until 3:00 or 4:00 in the morning the past couple of nights, and I’m running out of ways to keep myself busy. “Don’t!” I say in an exaggerated tone, lifting my voice to imitate the dainty, elegant and high-bred young debutant, the book's heroine. “Please! You know we cannot go any further, Randall. You’ll ruin me!”I swear Aunt Penny’s mouth lifts into a ghost of a smile, her eyes softening and looking far more alive than they had only moments ago. I drop my voice as low as it can go and continue, “You called me a rake once, Juliette…. It’s high time I showed you just how rakish I can be….” I quickly scan the rest of the page and glance up
Whispers of the Devil Bump in the Night
Layla“Have you ever lost your mind entirely before, Curtis?” Curtis, who is currently fighting to get a chainsaw back in working order, looks up at me with a pinched expression. “I don’t believe so, Miss Layla. But you look like you’re fixin’ to lose yours, I reckon.”Well, he’s not wrong. I run my hand over my face, then through my hair, peering at the old handyman from my perch on the back porch. The overcast day is a welcome relief from the heat, and the choked tree line in the distance looks remarkably innocent compared to last night during the storm. “You need sleep,” he says in a fatherly tone that forces my gaze back to his face. “You look like you’ve been dragged to hell, and even hell didn’t want ya and sent you packin’.”“That’s the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me,” I tease, rolling my eyes. “You’re a real southern gentleman, Curtis.”He waves me off with one of his huge, calloused hands. Curtis is average height and portly, but his strength is truly incredible. H
Whispers of the Devil Dalton
DaltonI catch the screaming night nurse by the wrist before she can flee back into the hallway. Her deep blue eyes shine like smooth sapphires, alight with fear. “Someone’s on edge,” I say, letting go of her wrist, hoping my touch is enough to tell her I’m real and not one of the many apparitions who haunt this hellhole.I can almost taste her fear. She gapes at me, looking me up and down. “Who the hell are you?”“Who are you?” I ask, sipping from the coffee Bailey so generously made before taking her leave this evening. “Who am I?” she says, stupidly–if I might add. “Uh, yeah?” I stare down at her, drinking her in. Bouncy, thick blonde hair that would probably touch her lower back if she didn’t keep it piled on the top of her head. Slim shoulders, narrow waist. A great rack I’d like to paint if I could ever get her naked. Her nipples are peaked under her white tank-top, and she isn’t wearing a bra, of course. These night nurses get comfortable, fast, especially when they think the
Whispers of the Devil Dream or Nightmare
LaylaI have a type, I’ll admit. Tall, dark, handsome, and mysterious. Dalton, unfortunately, checks off all of those boxes, even if our introductory conversation took an abrupt turn.He obviously picked up on my irrational fear of the house somehow and decided to spin it to his advantage. I got the sense, during our short time together in the kitchen, that he enjoyed trying to scare me.After my conversation with Curtis, I’d come to the conclusion that the house might just harbor bad memories but not ghosts and ghouls. I’d never outwardly admit that I’m more in tune with the energy of certain places, but after working in hospitals my entire career, I’ve often wondered if the things I’ve seen and heard held weight and weren’t just tricks of my mind.Still, having someone else in the house now makes me feel slightly more secure in my surroundings as I go through my nightly routine with Aunt Penny.She’s not near
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