Daughters of Silence

by R. L. Stine

  Jenna smiled at her friend. “You really are a twit. Now, let’s see what this really says.”

  She scraped at the crusted dirt with her thumbnail. It flaked away easily, leaving the inscription bare.

  “‘They are not dead,’” she read, running her finger along the carved letters. “‘They live eternally in our hearts.’”

  Hallie giggled. That started Jenna laughing, too, and soon they were gasping for breath.

  “Can you believe we were such chickens?” Hallie asked.

  Jenna had to take several breaths before she could answer. “They are not dead,” she repeated in a hollow, spooky tone.

  Hallie burst into another fit of giggling. Jenna started laughing again, too. She laughed so hard, she felt her sides ache and tears well up in the corner of her eyes.

  “Oh, that was good,” Hallie gasped. “You should have seen the look on your face, Jenna.”

  “The look on my face?” Jenna gasped. “You looked pale as a—”

  “Don’t say it!” Hallie gasped. “If I start laughing again, I don’t think I’ll be able to stop.”

  “Me, either.”

  Jenna looked up at the angel. She suddenly felt her mirth drain away, replaced by a frigid chill. The statue’s gaze seemed fixed upon her, its clawlike hands ready to stretch out and snatch her up.

  Jenna took a stumbling step backward, away from the mausoleum. Time to go, she thought. She looked over at Hallie. Her friend stood in front of the door. Her hand rested on the ornate wrought-iron door latch.

  “Hey, it’s unlocked,” Hallie exclaimed, her voice quivering with excitement. “Let’s go in!”

  Jenna wiped her damp hands on her gown. Sudden dread gripped her stomach with cold, clammy fingers. “In … there?”

  “Why not?”

  “It’s a grave, Hallie.”

  “All the better.” Hallie shot her a look. “Unless you want to admit there’s a reason to be afraid?”

  Jenna lifted her chin defiantly. “Of course not!”

  “Then let’s go.”

  Hallie turned the latch and gave the door a push. It swung open soundlessly. Jenna blinked in surprise. She’d expected the hinges to squeak from disuse. Strange.

  She peered over Hallie’s shoulder. Dark shadows filled the crypt, shifting and swirling like thick, black smoke. Jenna coughed as she breathed in the musty, damp air. It smelled stale. Unpleasant. Her stomach lurched uneasily as she caught another scent, a sickly sweet, rotten odor.

  Jenna’s heart pounded double-time. She did not want to go in there.

  “Here’s a candle,” Hallie said, reaching up to a tiny shelf just outside the door. “And I’ve got matches right here in my pocket.”

  Hallie struck the match on the marble door frame, and Jenna blinked against the flare of light. Holding the candle, Hallie stepped into the mausoleum.

  Jenna wasn’t about to let her friend go in alone. Still, her feet felt suddenly glued to her place outside. Don’t be silly, she told herself firmly.

  “Hallie?” she called. Her friend did not answer. Jenna peered into the shadows and spotted the flickering light of Hallie’s small candle.

  The breeze swirled against her back. The smell of decay grew stronger. She coughed and covered her mouth with her hand.

  An odd feeling tugged at her awareness. She felt as if someone were calling to her. But not with words. She had a sudden urge to look up.

  She didn’t want to. But that odd feeling nagged at her, tipping her head back before she could stop herself.

  Jenna gazed up.

  Her breath went in, but it didn’t go out again. Instead, it stayed there, hot and hurting, while her heart tried to beat its way right out of her chest.

  The angel was watching her.

  Its eyes had no irises, no pupils. But it saw her. Jenna could feel its menacing stare.

  For a moment, she thought she heard the sound of ruffling feathers, then saw those marble wings quiver ever so slightly.

  About to take flight.

  About to swoop down and snatch her up.

  With a gasp, she turned to run.

  “Jenna!” Hallie cried as she rushed out of the mausoleum.

  Jenna ignored her. All she wanted to do was run and run and run and never come back. But Hallie soon caught up with her, grabbed her by the arm, and dragged her to a stop.

  “What’s wrong with you?” Hallie demanded. “What happened?”

  Too frightened to speak, Jenna pointed at the angel. To her astonishment, its eyes were closed.

  Hallie frowned. “What about the angel?”

  “It… looked at me.”

  “That’s impossible,” Hallie said.

  “It looked at me,” Jenna insisted. “Its eyes were open and it looked at me!”

  Hallie stared at her as if she’d lost her mind. “Jenna, it’s a statue. It can’t open its eyes.”

  Jenna shook her head. She couldn’t believe this. It had seemed so real, so terribly real. “I … suppose not,” she muttered. “But I was so sure.”

  “You’re letting your imagination run away with you,” Hallie told her. Sudden mischief sparkled in her eyes. “Now this is a first. Sensible Jenna, getting so spooked that you thought a marble angel opened its eyes and looked at you.”

  “Its eyes were open before. I swear it,” Jenna insisted. “Big, bulging eyes,” she added with a sudden shiver. “Didn’t you notice before?”

  “No, I guess I didn’t,” Hallie replied. “And I guess I didn’t notice that it was ready to fly down from its perch … and get you!” Hallie cried, swooping at Jenna with her arms outstretched like wings.

  Jenna laughed and fended Hallie off. She felt glad that the other girl’s silliness had chased away her heart-stopping terror.

  “Come on, let’s see the inside of the mausoleum, and then we’ll go,” Hallie suggested. “Then, when people in town start their wild Fear stories, we can tell them how we walked straight into that crypt and came out again.”

  Jenna tried to ignore the shudder that raced up her spine. She’d let her imagination run away with her once. She wasn’t going to let it happen again. Gritting her teeth, she forced herself to look up at the angel. Its eyes remained closed. It didn’t look back at her.

  Of course. It was a statue, after all. Only a statue.

  She took a deep breath and followed Hallie into the crypt, feeling only the faintest twitch of dread as she walked under the angel.

  Hallie’s candle sent yellow light dancing around the room. The walls, floor, and even the single bench in the center were carved from black marble. The soft sound of their breathing bounced back at them from the stone.

  “Where are they?” Hallie whispered, stopping just inside the door.

  Jenna could see that two bronze squares had been set in the far wall of the crypt to mark the resting place of the Fear girls. Dampness had turned the metal blue-green.

  “Those plaques say something,” she replied as curiosity overtook her misgivings.

  She took the candle from Hallie and raised it high as she walked closer to the plaques. The smell of decayed flowers grew stronger. Finally, she could see the lettering.

  Julia Fear. Hannah Fear. The names had been etched deeply into the bronze, as though someone had wanted to make sure they’d never disappear. Poor girls, Jenna thought. They’d been so young. That terrible story about them couldn’t be true.

  “I wonder what really happened to you,” she murmured. “Poor Hannah. Poor Julia.”

  Some impulse made her lay her palm on the plaque marking Julia’s grave. She hadn’t planned to do that. But the urge had been too strong to ignore, and she’d moved before she realized what she was doing.

  The metal felt warm. Warm as … her own skin. Strange, when the rest of the crypt felt so chilly and damp.

  Startled by a faint rustling sound behind her, Jenna whirled around.

  A tall, thin figure filled the doorway. Dressed all in white. Shadows hid its face. As
it took a slow, single step forward, the breeze billowed in the fabric of its long, flowing gown.

  Jenna’s legs went numb.

  Unaware, Hallie stood unmoving. Behind her, the apparition seemed to float on the wind.

  “Hallie!” Jenna whispered.

  “What is it now?” the other girl impatiently replied.

  Jenna opened her mouth to speak. But all that came out was a strangled, choking sound. She raised her trembling hand and pointed.

  “Behind you!” she croaked.

  Hallie stared at her for a moment, then turned. Jenna saw the candle drop from her hand. The light sputtered out, plunging the vault into total darkness.

  Jenna heard her friend’s deep, rasping gasp.

  Then an earsplitting scream.

  Chapter

  3

  “How dare you!” the apparition growled in the pitch-black gloom.

  Silhouetted by the moonlight, Jenna watched breathlessly as the apparition slowly raised long, bony arms, its clawlike hands stretching out from the shadows to grab her.

  Jenna squeezed her eyes shut and clung to Hallie’s trembling body. The angel, she thought. I desecrated the graves it protected, and now it’s come for me.

  “Look at me!” the apparition demanded. Jenna slowly opened her eyes. In the silvery moonglow, Jenna could see the phantom pointing directly at her. A wild gust of wind swept into the crypt and the apparition’s long, unbound hair swirled around its head.

  She stared at the long, skeletal finger, expecting lightning to stab out and burn her to ash. Hallie clung to her and whimpered. She pressed her face against Jenna’s arm.

  “What are you doing in here?” the apparition demanded.

  Jenna picked up her head and tried to speak. But each time she looked directly at the looming figure, her body convulsed with a violent chill. She fought against the sensation. Tried to shake it off. No use.

  Jenna glanced up at the mysterious figure and her teeth chattered in her mouth. Bone-penetrating cold pierced her body with a thousand icy needles. She hugged herself and dropped to the floor, crouched in a cramped, shivering ball. Beside her, Hallie looked as if she felt the same.

  “I asked you a question!” the raspy voice shrieked, echoing off the stone walls. “Wicked, wicked girls!”

  “W-we just wanted to see—” Jenna managed to mumble.

  “How dare you!” the ghostly figure screamed. “How dare you disturb my daughters’ resting place!”

  My daughters? This was no apparition. No sinister, avenging angel, Jenna realized.

  Only one person could be standing in the doorway.

  Angelica Fear.

  Jenna dared to peer at Angelica Fear. She quickly scuttled to her feet. Then reached down and pulled Hallie up.

  Oh, no! They were in big trouble now. Jenna glanced at Hallie. But the other girl just stood with her hand over her mouth and her eyes round with fear. Obviously, Jenna would have to handle any explanations.

  “Ma’am,” she whispered. “Mrs. Fear—”

  “Light your candle,” the woman ordered. “I want to see your faces. Vile little vandals. I want to look into the eyes of girls who would desecrate the graves of my darling daughters.”

  Jenna bent and grabbed the candle off the floor. Quickly, Hallie scrabbled in her pocket for a match, then relit the flame. Jenna’s hand shook just a little as she turned toward Mrs. Fear. But the woman’s face remained in shadow.

  “We didn’t mean any disrespect, ma’am,” Jenna assured her. “We didn’t damage anything. We were only curious.”

  “Curious?” Angelica asked. “About what?”

  Jenna felt her cheeks grow hot with embarrassment. “We, ah, heard some stories—”

  “Ah, yes,” Angelica groaned. “I’ve heard the awful things they say about my daughters. My poor girls,” she sniffed. “Nobody knows how they suffered.” She sighed. “Still suffer,” she whispered, covering her eyes with a thin, pale hand.

  Silence settled over the crypt. Jenna didn’t dare speak. She could hear only Angelica Fear’s sighs and Hallie’s quick shallow breaths.

  Suddenly, Angelica Fear dropped her hand and pinned Jenna with a penetrating stare. “And who in the world are you?” she demanded in an icy tone.

  “I’m Jenna Hanson. This is my friend, Hallie Sheridan.” Taking a deep breath, she went on. “Hallie’s family just moved to Shadyside, and I came to spend the summer with them. We’re best friends. Actually, we’re as close as sisters—”

  Angelica stepped into the crypt, and Jenna finally got a good look at her. Her black hair shimmered with the iridescent sheen of a raven’s feathers. A thick lock of white hair, startling in contrast, caught the candlelight in a silver gleam. Her cheekbones were high and sharp, her cheeks hollow. Below swooping black brows, hard, green eyes glittered like emeralds.

  Jenna thought she was very beautiful. But something about her looks struck Jenna as peculiar. Unsettling.

  “Sisters,” Angelica mused. “Yes.”

  Jenna waited for her to say something else. But she didn’t. The silence stretched uncomfortably.

  “There’s no good excuse for us trespassing, Mrs. Fear,” Jenna said. “All we can do is apologize. And promise never to do it again.”

  Angelica’s eyelids drifted closed for a moment. Then she opened them, her gaze boring straight into Jenna. Jenna told herself they were ordinary eyes, belonging to an ordinary woman. But here in her daughters’ crypt, Angelica’s eyes looked like clear, hard glass. And as violent and cruel as a green-tinged tornado sky.

  Then she blinked, and the violence and cruelty vanished. As though it had never been. Jenna wondered if she’d even seen it at all.

  “Your apology is accepted,” Angelica quietly replied. “But now that I’ve found you here, you must stay and talk for a while. You must tell me a little more about yourselves, Jenna and Hallie.”

  “I’m sorry, Mrs. Fear, but I don’t think we can—” Hallie spluttered.

  “Of course you can. You must!” At Angelica’s sharp interruption every muscle in Jenna’s body tensed into a hard knot. Jenna barely drew a breath as she watched Angelica push a strand of jet-black hair off her face. Heavy jewels on her thin fingers flashed in the candlelight.

  “You see, I come here whenever I feel lonely,” Angelica softly murmured. “It comforts me to visit with my daughters …”

  “Ma’am—” Jenna began.

  “These stories they tell about my girls …” Angelica continued as though Jenna hadn’t spoken at all. “They’re not true, girls. You must not believe them,” she insisted with a sharp shake of her head. “Once the rumors got started, there was nothing we could do to stop them. Perhaps it’s the name. ‘Fear’ tends to create a certain response in people. It’s only natural, I suppose …” Her raspy voice trailed off.

  She gazed at the far wall, looking lost in thought. Jenna wondered if she had forgotten them. Maybe they could sneak out. She glanced at Hallie over her shoulder. Let’s get out of here! she mouthed silently.

  Hallie nodded. They started edging toward the door.

  Then Angelica pinned them with a hard stare. All the vagueness in her eyes vanished like smoke. Meeting that gaze was like being pierced with a sharp stick. Jenna felt frozen in her tracks.

  Still watching them, Angelica Fear strolled to the plaque marking Hannah’s grave. Her fingers looked so pale to Jenna that they almost seemed translucent as she laid them on the bronze.

  “They said such terrible things about my girls,” she murmured. “How could anyone think that one of my girls could have killed the other? My girls loved each other. I tried not to listen to those monstrous stories. I tried not to care.”

  Angelica dropped her hand to her side. The wind swirled into the crypt. The candle flame danced and flickered. For a moment, Angelica Fear’s eyes looked as deep and black as the night sky. Jenna’s skin crawled with a sudden, powerful dread.

  Then the breeze died, and the light settled to a s
teady glow. Angelica glanced warmly at Jenna.

  “I’m glad you girls came here tonight after all,” she confided. “It’s been so long since Julia and Hannah had visitors their own age. I’m sure they enjoyed it.”

  Jenna’s mouth dropped open. What a strange thing to say!

  Get away, she thought. Now. Get away from this woman as fast as you can. Losing her daughters has driven her mad.

  “Uh, thanks,” Jenna muttered, giving Hallie a nudge toward the door. “We’d better get going. Hallie’s parents are surely wondering where we are.”

  “Wait,” Angelica called.

  Reluctantly, Jenna turned. Angelica stood in deep shadows now. Jenna could only see the ghostly gleam of her white clothing.

  “You must come visit me at home sometime,” she said. “We get terribly lonely, Simon and I. No one seems to be brave enough to call on the Fears. You girls, however, seem to have more courage than most. Please come. It would be so nice to have two girls around the house again. I do miss the laughter.”

  “Good night, Mrs. Fear,” Jenna mumbled in answer.

  She tugged at Hallie’s arm and pulled her toward the doorway. Once outside, they started running. Jenna ran until her breathing rasped and her pulse beat like a hammer in her ears. She didn’t look behind her until she passed the cemetery gates. Then she dared a single glance over her shoulder to make sure only Hallie was following her.

  “Stop,” Hallie panted, grabbing Jenna’s arm. “I can’t run anymore.”

  Jenna allowed herself to be pulled to a stop. She propped her hands on her knees and gasped for breath.

  “Can you believe this?” Hallie asked.

  “No,” Jenna replied. “What a strange woman.”

  ♦ ♦ ♦

  When bedtime came, Hallie lit a candle and led Jenna upstairs. The flickering circle of light surrounded them, moving up the stairs with them.

  “Now, don’t you girls spend the whole night talking,” Mrs. Sheridan called from downstairs.

  “We won’t, Mother,” Hallie replied. Dropping her voice to a whisper, she added, “Just most of it.”

  Her bedroom was tucked up beneath the eaves. Pretty, daisy-printed paper covered the walls. The curtains matched the yellow daisies, and yellow, green and white quilts covered the two narrow beds.