Read Online Pretty When She Kills by Rhiannon Frater - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Rhiannon Frater
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mouth. The woman’s chest was a ruin of flesh and long ropey, fleshy strands of intestine lay on the ground. Blood splattered the woman’s face and arms and her eyes were wide with terror.
“Help me, please!” the woman sobbed. “Please, Samantha.”
Overcoming her repulsion and fear, Samantha held out her hand to touch the woman’s shoulder. Just as her fingers could touch the jogger’s arm, the woman vanished in a swirl of mist.
“What the hell?”
Samantha stared at the empty spot on the jogging path as several runners sprinted past her. There was no sign of the woman who had cried out for help. No blood, nothing.
Samantha scurried out from under the bridge and ran toward the nearest rest station. Trembling from terror, she hugged herself as she leaned against a streetlamp, trying to compose herself. What she had seen had been horrifying, but what was even more frightening was that the woman--the apparition--had called her by name.
Chapter 7
Samuel Vezorak was in a good mood all things considered. The family was drinking all his beer and had devoured most of the barbecue he had cooked up earlier in the day, but he had a good buzz going and he could ignore the barbecue sauce smeared all over his leather sofa.
Outside, the radio was pumping out old country classics into the warm summer air. The porch was crowded with family, kids were in the yard chasing after each other, dogs begged for scraps and attention, and the menfolk swilled down beer while they told tall tales.
Samuel was hitting the buffet table one last time. Though he was leaner than a blade of grass, he could eat any man under the table. His wife, Kelly Ann, had made some of her killer potato salad and he heaped a mountain of it on his plate next to some barbecue chicken and brisket.
“Looks like trouble,” Kelly Ann muttered, entering the kitchen of their double-wide trailer. Her long blond hair was plaited into a braid down her back and her cheeks were rosy from the heat. She guided their youngest, John, to the sink to wash off a mixture of grease, dirt, and sauce from the six-year-old’s face.
Samuel had two sets of children. The first set was Samuel Raymond Vezorak, Jr., who went by Ray, Damon, Amaliya, and Rachel from his deceased wife Marlena. Ray and Damon worked with him and lived in the trailers on either side of his with their wives and kids. Rachel had died of cancer when she was very young. Amaliya was...gone. The second set was with his second wife, Kelly Ann. John and Betsey were his pride and joy.
“John, what were you doing out there?” Samuel asked, cocking his head to gaze down at the little tow-head.
John giggled in response.
“Not talking about him, Samuel. Out there. I think it’s another one of those reporters.” Kelly Ann gestured out the window.
“Dammit. Not another one,” Samuel growled.
Mae, his mother in law (and previous sister in law when he had been married to Marlena), carried Betsey into the kitchen. The four-year-old was just as messy as her brother.
“They’re looking for Amaliya, you know,” Mae said. “That girl’s trouble. Pure and simple.”
“Amaliya is dead,” John said, scrunching his face as his mother wiped at it with a kitchen towel. “She wented to heaven.”
“Yes, your sister Amaliya is an angel now looking down on you when you sleep, taking care of you,” Kelly Ann said with a forced smile. She gave her mother a warning look and started to clean Betsey’s face, too.
“Yeah, of course,” Mae said, rolling her eyes, her head turned so the kids couldn’t see.
Mae was drunk and ready to fight, but Samuel shut her down with a stern look. Kelly Ann looked up nervously. They did not discuss Amaliya’s visit from beyond the grave in front of the children. Samuel would never forget the way his daughter’s eyes had glowed red as she casually tossed him and her brother Damon around like they were toys. Mae and Kelly Ann were convinced she had been
“Help me, please!” the woman sobbed. “Please, Samantha.”
Overcoming her repulsion and fear, Samantha held out her hand to touch the woman’s shoulder. Just as her fingers could touch the jogger’s arm, the woman vanished in a swirl of mist.
“What the hell?”
Samantha stared at the empty spot on the jogging path as several runners sprinted past her. There was no sign of the woman who had cried out for help. No blood, nothing.
Samantha scurried out from under the bridge and ran toward the nearest rest station. Trembling from terror, she hugged herself as she leaned against a streetlamp, trying to compose herself. What she had seen had been horrifying, but what was even more frightening was that the woman--the apparition--had called her by name.
Chapter 7
Samuel Vezorak was in a good mood all things considered. The family was drinking all his beer and had devoured most of the barbecue he had cooked up earlier in the day, but he had a good buzz going and he could ignore the barbecue sauce smeared all over his leather sofa.
Outside, the radio was pumping out old country classics into the warm summer air. The porch was crowded with family, kids were in the yard chasing after each other, dogs begged for scraps and attention, and the menfolk swilled down beer while they told tall tales.
Samuel was hitting the buffet table one last time. Though he was leaner than a blade of grass, he could eat any man under the table. His wife, Kelly Ann, had made some of her killer potato salad and he heaped a mountain of it on his plate next to some barbecue chicken and brisket.
“Looks like trouble,” Kelly Ann muttered, entering the kitchen of their double-wide trailer. Her long blond hair was plaited into a braid down her back and her cheeks were rosy from the heat. She guided their youngest, John, to the sink to wash off a mixture of grease, dirt, and sauce from the six-year-old’s face.
Samuel had two sets of children. The first set was Samuel Raymond Vezorak, Jr., who went by Ray, Damon, Amaliya, and Rachel from his deceased wife Marlena. Ray and Damon worked with him and lived in the trailers on either side of his with their wives and kids. Rachel had died of cancer when she was very young. Amaliya was...gone. The second set was with his second wife, Kelly Ann. John and Betsey were his pride and joy.
“John, what were you doing out there?” Samuel asked, cocking his head to gaze down at the little tow-head.
John giggled in response.
“Not talking about him, Samuel. Out there. I think it’s another one of those reporters.” Kelly Ann gestured out the window.
“Dammit. Not another one,” Samuel growled.
Mae, his mother in law (and previous sister in law when he had been married to Marlena), carried Betsey into the kitchen. The four-year-old was just as messy as her brother.
“They’re looking for Amaliya, you know,” Mae said. “That girl’s trouble. Pure and simple.”
“Amaliya is dead,” John said, scrunching his face as his mother wiped at it with a kitchen towel. “She wented to heaven.”
“Yes, your sister Amaliya is an angel now looking down on you when you sleep, taking care of you,” Kelly Ann said with a forced smile. She gave her mother a warning look and started to clean Betsey’s face, too.
“Yeah, of course,” Mae said, rolling her eyes, her head turned so the kids couldn’t see.
Mae was drunk and ready to fight, but Samuel shut her down with a stern look. Kelly Ann looked up nervously. They did not discuss Amaliya’s visit from beyond the grave in front of the children. Samuel would never forget the way his daughter’s eyes had glowed red as she casually tossed him and her brother Damon around like they were toys. Mae and Kelly Ann were convinced she had been
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