Total pages in book: 76
Estimated words: 71312 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 71312 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 357(@200wpm)___ 285(@250wpm)___ 238(@300wpm)
I dream that I’m back at my house, where Hunter is keeping watch for the familiar who takes on the shape of a wolf. The house is silent except for the ticking of a grandfather clock. It’s in the foyer, up against the grand staircase. I walk in rhythm with the ticking of the clock, going past it and up the stairs. When I get to the landing and open my bedroom door, I step into the room we’re all in now.
Bright sunlight streams through, and the sweet smell of peppermint mixes with the stench of gasoline and cigarettes. My chest hurts when I inhale, and I pat the pockets of my overalls, feeling for a cigarette. I can’t light it in here, though.
Because it’s not my room.
Key jingle and my heavy boots thud on the floor, taking a few more steps into the room. I look around and am filled with anger when I see a pentagram made from twigs hanging on the wall. Suddenly, I’m pushed backward and am no longer seeing things from his point of view.
He turns, face too blurry to make out his features, and screaming echoes around me. My eyes fly open and I’m back in my bed. I’m unable to move. I try to open my mouth so I can scream for Ethan, but nothing will come out. Then a single scream rings out around me, bringing relief that’s short-lived.
Because I’m not the one screaming.
Another scream sounds, right in my ear. And then another. They’re deafening and terrifying and something bad is going to happen, I know it. Ethan sits up, quickly rolling over to shake me.
“Hey,” he says and then leans back, mouth opening wider than it should. A high-pitched scream comes from his mouth and his head lulls back before his entire body starts shaking.
“Ethan!” I’m able to yell. “Ethan!” He’s seizing in front of me and the screams get louder and louder but I still can’t get my body to move. A weight is pressing down on me, suffocating me and hurting my chest. I inhale only to choke and the smell of burning flesh fills my nostrils, making me sick.
Ethan slumps to the side and I desperately try again to reach him. He’s going to fall and whack his head on the nightstand and I’ll still be here, stuck to the bed, forced to watch him bleed to death on the floor. A pained groan comes from deep inside Ethan and I scream for him again.
“Ethan! Help, someone help!”
The floor creaks and heavy boots clomp on the floor. The smell of gasoline is strong again, along with something else. It’s a familiar scent, very unpleasant, but familiar.
“No,” I say through gritted teeth and know if I can just get one part of my body to move, I’ll break this hold and will be able to get up and run out of here. Tears stream down my eyes as I watch Ethan’s body continue to tremble. His brown eyes are wide, looking right at me in horror, silently begging for help that I can’t give. He starts to go still and the light dims in his eyes.
And then I wake up, eyes flying open. I’m on the air mattress with my head against Ethan’s warm skin. I sit up fast, needing to see him.
“You okay?” He pushes my hair back from my face. His question makes everyone else look at me and I swallow down the lump of fear that’s making its way up my throat. What the fuck kind of dream was that?
“Yeah,” I say shakily. “I’m fine.” If a spirit is trying to freak me out and make me go away, they’re going to have to try a whole lot harder than that. Freaky-ass dreams are incredibly disturbing and make it hard to fall back asleep. But it’s just a dream and ghosts don’t have the Freddie Krueger ability to harm us in dreams.
But the darkness I felt…the pure unfiltered rage at the sight of a pentagram…I thought we were dealing with three human spirits with the worst of them being a deranged serial killer. After what I just saw, paired with the intense emotions, I wouldn’t be surprised to find out this house isn’t haunted, but it’s possessed.
Chapter
Eighteen
I’m really regretting not bringing Hunter. It makes sense to have someone stay at the house and keep an eye on the horses because a familiar roaming around the street while avoiding me at the same time is weird as fuck, but right now I could really use my ability to mentally communicate with him as well as someone who can move about just as freely as the spirits that haunt this place.
Yawning, I push off the mattress and reach for another bag of popcorn. I can’t reach it so I telekinetically pull it to me. A loud bang sounds as soon as the bag slides into my grasp, making everyone but Ethan jump.