Synopsis
It isn’t
always what’s in the dark that you should be afraid of…
When Chrys
asks her brother, Spencer, for help to clean a foreclosed house for the bank,
neither expects their lives to be on the line.
It’s supposed to be a simple Sunday; take pictures…clean out the
house…collect the cash. Chrys and
Spencer are plunged into a fight for their lives when the house reveals
unspeakable horrors.
…sometimes
things in the light are even more deadly.
Exerpt
“Ah, Chrys.”
The hairs on her
arms felt electrified at just the way her brother said her name. He was already moving forward.
Spencer felt drawn
to walk around these inside walls. There
had to be a door or something. There had
to be a reason for them to be there. He
said, “This is a concrete room. The
walls don’t go up.”
“What?”
“They don’t go all
the way to the ceiling.”
“What? Why?”
The light from
Spencer’s cellphone didn’t reach around the corner as he moved toward it. Shadows were cast and danced. Why was there a room like this inside the
house? Every horror movie popped through
his head. Pennywise the Clown liked
basements. Zombies often got locked in
them. Freddie
Kruger. Jason. In
his head he saw all of them turning the corner from the far side or maybe
crawling along the top of it waiting for the next time he looked up.
“What are you
doing?” Chrys pointed the flashlight on
her brother.
He jumped. The
phone almost fell from his hand.
“You shouldn’t go
over there, Spence. We should just
go.” All of her courage had instantly
left. The only feeling she had at that
moment was that they should get out of there.
“I’ve taken pictures. We should
just go.” Her brother was in the grey
shadows and she stood under the light bulb.
She realized her body was trembling.
She looked back toward the family room at the stairs. All she heard was the fan blowing and
turning. She should have locked the
front door. Somebody could be coming
down those stairs right now and they wouldn’t know it. They would be trapped.
“There’s a
ladder.” Spencer stood at the far
corner. The short wall made a ninety
degree turn. It was indeed a square room
right underneath the kitchen.
“Spence, come
back.” Chrys watched him disappear
around the corner. She looked out to the
family room again. Her head spun to look at the tiny window high
on the wall and covered on the outside by the tall grass. Could
someone be watching? She knew her
thoughts and fears were irrational.
“I’m just going to
see what’s on top.”
“Forget it. I have enough pictures.” She wanted to get out of there.
The closer he got
to the ladder,
made of rough-cut two by fours,
the more Spencer smelled something foul.
It wasn’t that bad from where he stood.
Was this a compost thing?
Something in his head said he had to continue. He grabbed the top of the ladder and pulled
himself up with his phone leading the way.
The dark shadows covered everything behind him. The phone sent light over the top. All that was up there was a small skimming
net with a metal handle. There was also
a square block nailed to a larger square on the top just a foot in front of
him.
He took another
step up. Spencer said, “There’s a trap
door up here.”
“Shit. If I give you the camera can you get
pictures?” Chrys forgot
about her fears and followed the path her brother had taken.
Spencer grabbed
hold of the block and jerked upward on the trap door. The whole square jumped out of the hole. The foul stench was instantly stronger. The smell encircled him like a cloud rising from
the cube. It was a mixture of rotting
meat and garbage. If it was a compost then
it shouldn’t still smell after a year of sitting there. Did
people really have composts in their houses?
If they did, did they make them with cinderblock walls? How would they
get the stuff out?
He couldn’t see right down
through the open hole. At the angle he
was looking all he saw was his light shining off something. He had to get a better look.
“I think there’s
water in there.”
“What?” Chrys checked behind her. There was nothing there. Her stomach churned. The hairs
on her arms still stood up. Her breaths came quickly. She turned the corner and pointed the
light. There was the ladder her brother
had talked about. She brought the light
up until she saw Spencer’s hiking boots.
“Why don’t you come down?”
“In a second.” He pulled himself forward. He had to know how much water was inside this
concrete box. This tomb, he thought. He
put his cellphone flashlight in his palm and reached inside. There was something in the water.
His eyes went
wide. Spencer saw the hands appear out
of the black. Fingers encircled his
wrist. The phone fell from his
grasp. His weight slipped forward. There was nothing in front of his eyes but
darkness.
“Spencer? Fuck, Spencer.”
About Author
Lorne Oliver's greatest joys are his daughter and son. Watching them grow and become young adults is an adventure in itself.
His writing journey started when he was 10 and the school librarian challenged him to publish something and come back to her. The first time he had something published in an anthology she was there at the book launch.
In the past few years Lorne has lived in several areas of Canada. All of this as fueled the ideas and the world of Spencer and Chrys.
Lorne shares his life with long time partner and wife, Brandi. She challenges him constantly.
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