Something’s not quite right about the neighborhood of Woodland Heights. Five years ago six children disappeared in this suburban heaven. When Laura Wagner moves into a house that had been vacant for most of those five years, this something comes alive. Laura Wagner, divorced mother of two, addicted to alcohol and Valium, sees nothing wrong with her life; she sees nothing much at all. She gets by as well as she can, aided by the solace of her drugs and whiskey, until the day she backs into a police car in the parking lot of her favorite bar and is sentenced to involuntary rehabilitation treatments. Returning home clean and sober is an eye-opening experience. The spirit dwelling in her house reveals its true, evil nature and begins to prey upon her, her friends, even her children, avid to spread its message of death and despair. Laura must learn to control her inner demons before she can subdue these outside forces threatening to break free. She must learn how to distinguish hallucinations from reality, learn how to stop the spirit that requires her death and the deaths of her loved ones.
Laura
lay immersed in the water, her body inert and limp, her mind drifting
slowly. She was aware of the feel of the water, the scent of the
candles and bath oil, but made no connection between these senses and
reality. She knew that the words spinning in her head were the only
reality.
Better off dead, better off dead, the words lost their meaning in the repetition, like a child's sing-song chant.
Child,
children...the words kicked off warning signals, but her mind, aided by
Valium and an unnatural languor, floated past them and replayed the
events of the day, then the events of the past few years. Dismally she
viewed her life, solitary now and doomed to be forever. She saw all her
mistakes magnified; she saw all of the chances she'd lost, the
opportunities she'd never pursued. Will it ever get better, she
wondered, will it ever stop?
Easy enough to stop, her mind advised.
And the chant continued - better off dead, better off dead. The walls pulsed with the words in her head.
Detached
and disinterested, she watched her arm reach out of the water and find
the razor she used for her legs. Her father's old safety razor, its
stainless steel sparkled in the candlelight, glinted coldly on the
water's surface. Laura turned it over and over in her hand. This too
had no reality.
A new refrain was added, silently, internally, but somehow it echoed through the empty house.
Do it, Laura, do it.
Her
fingers moved of their own volition, removing the double-edged blade
from its holder. Vaguely she could remember replacing it recently.
When had it been? Was it only yesterday? No matter, she knew it would
be sharp, not dulled by hair or skin.
Do it, Laura.
There would be no pain, it would not be real.
Do it, Laura, nothing is real.
Yes, her mind answered and the voices that were no part of her agreed.
No pain, no problems. It will be over soon, all be over soon. Do it, Laura, it will be easy, easy enough to stop.
"Yes," she whispered over the cooling water.
"Yes," she whispered and watched, uncaring, unfeeling, as her fingers deftly slit her wrists open to the bone.
Yes, the voices sighed.
The
water darkened, the room darkened. Before blackness descended she saw
the blade drift, gently and silently, to rest on the bottom of the tub.
Karen E. Taylor is the author of the popular Vampire Legacy series, CELLAR (a ghost novel,) numerous short stories, and a collection which earned her a Bram Stoker Award nomination. She is currently working on a new urban fantasy series, along with other projects she is too superstitious to mention.
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