Read Online Haunted Shadows 1: Sickness Behind Young Eyes by Jack Lewis - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Jack Lewis
Tags: Literature & Fiction, Horror, British, Genre Fiction, Religion & Spirituality, Ghosts, Occult, Ghosts & Haunted Houses
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it.”
“What about the other room?” asked
Jeremiah.
Peter gave his wife a strange look.
It lasted less than a second, short enough that I wondered if I had actually
seen it. Jeremiah prodded my side with his finger. I looked at him, and he
arched his eyebrows toward the other bedroom.
“Could we take a look at the spare
room?” I said.
Peter stopped. “Don’t you want to see
the master bedroom?”
“Well the spare room would be mine,
so I’m more interested in that. Plus sometimes my … cousin will come up to
stay, so I want to see if it would be big enough for us to share.”
Wow, I could really bullshit when I
put my mind to it.
Sharon stood against a dresser next
to the landing wall. She leant back and knocked a vase. It tipped and
threatened to fall, but she reached out and steadied it.
“How old’s your cousin?” she said.
I knew what I had to say, but I
didn’t want to say it. The couple obviously had a reason for hiding their
truth. Jeremiah prodded me again, this time so hard his finger dug in my side.
I winced and stepped back.
“Watch it,” I said.
“Sorry love,” said Jeremiah. He
smiled at Sharon. “I’m a clumsy bastard.”
I looked at Sharon. “My cousin is
seven,” I said.
There was a silence in the landing.
The only sound was the whistling of the wind as it blew through the attic above
us. It sounded like an enormous cavity that sucked in the wind and threw it
around. I looked at the ceiling and saw the entryway, but it had been boarded
up and painted over, as if someone had tried to hide it.
Pete followed my eyes and saw what I
looked at. He flinched, and then his face straightened.
“This house is no place for
children,” he said.
“What do you mean by that?” said
Jeremiah.
Peter’s face looked stern, and his
cheeks flushed red. Sharon answered for him.
“It’s not really big enough” she
said, her words not sounding completely true.
I coughed, and the back of my throat
burned. “Not to intrude, but do we think we could take a look round on our own?
Get a feel for the place?”
Sharon looked at Peter as if asking
permission to accept. He looked up and his eyes glazed in thought. He grabbed
his wife’s arm and pointed her toward the stairs.
“We’ll be downstairs,” he said. Then,
trying to add warmth to his tone but failing, he added: “We’ll be waiting.”
They turned and walked down the
stairs. As their footsteps trailed away and then sounded on the carpet
downstairs, Jeremiah walked to the spare room doorway. I stopped before
following him. For some reason, I wanted to delay for every second before
entering the room.
“Did you see the attic hatch?” I
said, and pointed at the ceiling.
He looked up. “Of course. Did you
think you saw something I didn’t?”
“Jesus. Do you ever get tired of
this?”
If he heard me speak, he didn’t show
it. “Someone’s done a rough job covering it up.”
With that he pushed open the spare
room door and stepped inside. I stayed in the landing. The room was dark and
looked featureless from here, and the doorway seemed like an enormous wide-open
mouth. I felt a sensation in my chest, as if something were pushing me away. It
felt like my body was telling me not to enter the room.
Pull yourself together, I thought.
I followed Jeremiah into the room. As
soon as I stepped inside I felt a deep chill, as if my bones were freezing and
would start to crack if I stayed too long. The walls and ceiling were cloaked
in shadow, and it was so chilly that I thought I saw icicles hanging from the
roof. It was an all-consuming cold, like the onset of winter.
Jeremiah walked over to the window,
reached for it and pulled it shut.
“Not ones for home comforts, are
they?” he said.
I put my hand on the wall next to the
door and felt for the light switch. I pressed it in, but the lightbulb
“What about the other room?” asked
Jeremiah.
Peter gave his wife a strange look.
It lasted less than a second, short enough that I wondered if I had actually
seen it. Jeremiah prodded my side with his finger. I looked at him, and he
arched his eyebrows toward the other bedroom.
“Could we take a look at the spare
room?” I said.
Peter stopped. “Don’t you want to see
the master bedroom?”
“Well the spare room would be mine,
so I’m more interested in that. Plus sometimes my … cousin will come up to
stay, so I want to see if it would be big enough for us to share.”
Wow, I could really bullshit when I
put my mind to it.
Sharon stood against a dresser next
to the landing wall. She leant back and knocked a vase. It tipped and
threatened to fall, but she reached out and steadied it.
“How old’s your cousin?” she said.
I knew what I had to say, but I
didn’t want to say it. The couple obviously had a reason for hiding their
truth. Jeremiah prodded me again, this time so hard his finger dug in my side.
I winced and stepped back.
“Watch it,” I said.
“Sorry love,” said Jeremiah. He
smiled at Sharon. “I’m a clumsy bastard.”
I looked at Sharon. “My cousin is
seven,” I said.
There was a silence in the landing.
The only sound was the whistling of the wind as it blew through the attic above
us. It sounded like an enormous cavity that sucked in the wind and threw it
around. I looked at the ceiling and saw the entryway, but it had been boarded
up and painted over, as if someone had tried to hide it.
Pete followed my eyes and saw what I
looked at. He flinched, and then his face straightened.
“This house is no place for
children,” he said.
“What do you mean by that?” said
Jeremiah.
Peter’s face looked stern, and his
cheeks flushed red. Sharon answered for him.
“It’s not really big enough” she
said, her words not sounding completely true.
I coughed, and the back of my throat
burned. “Not to intrude, but do we think we could take a look round on our own?
Get a feel for the place?”
Sharon looked at Peter as if asking
permission to accept. He looked up and his eyes glazed in thought. He grabbed
his wife’s arm and pointed her toward the stairs.
“We’ll be downstairs,” he said. Then,
trying to add warmth to his tone but failing, he added: “We’ll be waiting.”
They turned and walked down the
stairs. As their footsteps trailed away and then sounded on the carpet
downstairs, Jeremiah walked to the spare room doorway. I stopped before
following him. For some reason, I wanted to delay for every second before
entering the room.
“Did you see the attic hatch?” I
said, and pointed at the ceiling.
He looked up. “Of course. Did you
think you saw something I didn’t?”
“Jesus. Do you ever get tired of
this?”
If he heard me speak, he didn’t show
it. “Someone’s done a rough job covering it up.”
With that he pushed open the spare
room door and stepped inside. I stayed in the landing. The room was dark and
looked featureless from here, and the doorway seemed like an enormous wide-open
mouth. I felt a sensation in my chest, as if something were pushing me away. It
felt like my body was telling me not to enter the room.
Pull yourself together, I thought.
I followed Jeremiah into the room. As
soon as I stepped inside I felt a deep chill, as if my bones were freezing and
would start to crack if I stayed too long. The walls and ceiling were cloaked
in shadow, and it was so chilly that I thought I saw icicles hanging from the
roof. It was an all-consuming cold, like the onset of winter.
Jeremiah walked over to the window,
reached for it and pulled it shut.
“Not ones for home comforts, are
they?” he said.
I put my hand on the wall next to the
door and felt for the light switch. I pressed it in, but the lightbulb
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