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Ghostly Writes Anthology 2016

Page 5

by Claire Plaisted


  Chapter Four

  Silvia and the Beast

  Coffee was brewing. A fire crackled, warming the air. Orange and red light danced off the wood floor in front of the fire. The television was on and muted above it. A pitchman was selling a fancy knife set. The windows were running with perspiration. Cindy was sitting snug on the couch, her laptop resting on her lap. The cursor was blinking, taunting her. Cindy stared at it, her brain blank. A chill ran up Cindy’s spine, and hovered at the nape of her neck. The hair on it stood up. She felt as though she was being watched and looked to the doorway of the kitchen.

  Nothing was there.

  A gust of wind, like a finger tracing her neck. Cindy swatted at the back of her neck as she turned back around. A slither of wind teased her earlobe. She jumped and wheeled around. Her laptop hopped from her lap and smashed against the coffee table where it bounced off and hit the hardwood floor with a stuttering clap and broke into two. Cindy searched, eyes darting wildly about, for some sign of something, anything. Perhaps it was a bug that touched her.

  A fly began buzzing overhead.

  Cindy slapped her hands. “You jumped… over a fucking fly. You stupid…” her words slowed as she found her laptop on the ground split in two. A pain, as though she had been stabbed in the heart. Cold dread radiated through her body, rushing from her head down to her bare toes. With numb fingers she picked up the broken halves, hating herself for not buying a spare on the way to the cabin. Today was for bringing a few things over and letting her emotions go through her writing. She needed to heal, needed to cry, needed to be able to move on. She thought staying the weekend and going about life the way she did in her apartment in Bloomington, Indiana would help her. She needed her laptop. She needed to write.

  “I guess,” Cindy said, as she dropped her laptop in the trash, “I’ll have to buy a new one online and ask Becky to bring it up. Good thing I backed up my files.”

  Cindy stared at her once prized possession lying amongst the garbage for a moment or two before turning her back on it and ambling for the couch in the living room. She jumped out of her skin, her feet actually leaving the ground, as she found her way blocked by a little girl wearing two layers of winter clothing and a winter hat that covered her ears.

  “Oh my god!” Cindy wheeled around, one arm covering her eyes. She kept them covered, chest heaving, ice-cold fear raging through her body. How long she stood there with her arms over her eyes she didn’t know. But when she let them drop it was a little darker outside. The snow wasn’t falling but had packed itself tight against the windows. One or two were blocked completely.

  “Holy shit,” Cindy muttered. “Holy fucking shit.” She looked around, hoping against hope that she wouldn’t see what she thought she saw. And she didn’t. Despite this it took Cindy a long while to get over her scare. In the end she managed to convince herself that she was spooked about being alone in a house with dark memories. She shut off her television, poured a cup of coffee, and sat down at the kitchen table to order a new laptop. She would have to use her cellphone to do it but she didn’t mind. While she waited she would begin her story using the old school method: a pencil and paper.

  “Will I like you?” Cindy muttered to herself, as she stared at an HP All in One enlarged on her smartphones screen. She had just ordered it. It was available for pickup tomorrow and her sister had kindly agreed to pick it up and bring it to her. It would be in the evening however, as Becky had a doctor appointment in the morning. Like a lot of people when they buy something digitally, Cindy couldn’t help staring at her new acquisition. She was pleased, doubtful, happy, and nervous all at the same time. “Going from laptop to All in One is a big change.”

  The sunlight dimmed in the kitchen. The cold grew colder, chilling Cindy. She glanced over her shoulder. Nothing was there. She scolded herself for psyching herself out. She returned to her phone. Outside it began to snow again, thick flakes falling heavily. Cindy switched on the kitchen light, sat back down and got back to work.

  A paragraph had been written. Now Cindy’s pencil hovered over her paper as she thought about where she wanted to go with her story.

  A loud pop like a tire exploding clipped the air.

  Cindy jumped and toppled out of her chair. She scurried to her feet and rushed to the window. “What… the fuck?” The right front tire of her car was deflated. Next to it, lying in the snow, was an axe. Then a man was in front of the window. If you could call him that. He was twice as big, twice as tall as any man she had ever seen before. His face was twisted, scarred, his upper lip gone exposing teeth yellowed and blackened from abuse. Snow flecked his hairy body. He smashed an overlarge hand through the window, shattering it, and gripped Cindy by the neck. She choked and gasped, her hands slapping at those around her neck. Lights popped in front of her eyes as she was pulled through the window. Then she was flung through the air. The wind whistled as she flew. She struck the snow and the air was knocked from her lungs. Cold spread like cancer through her body. Fear engulfed her heart, squeezing it like a vice grip.

  “Come here.” The man growled his words, sounding more like a bear than a man. Cindy scrambled backwards, moaning in pain and fear. She wasn’t moving fast. The man cut a path through the snow with ease. His hand was around her throat and lifting her off the ground. She choked and gasped, hands pulling at those around her throat. Her neck burned like fire. She felt her eyes bulge. She flailed her feet, kicking them in hope of connecting with something. Her booted foot hit something. It must have been the beast’s testicles as he screamed like a wounded bear and let her go. Cindy hit the ground, scrambled awkwardly to her feet, and bolted. Her hands and face were numb. Tunnel vision limited her range of vision. That kept her from seeing the little girl until it was too late. Kept her from seeing the light glinting off her knife until it was flying at her.

  Cindy felt a sharp prick in her neck and grabbed at it. She was stunned to feel a knife there. Then her legs went out. Her feet followed and she hit the snow with a sickening crunch. Her face and fingers twitched. Blood began to pour from her neck, turning the white snow red. Her body began to jerk violently. Then the beast of a man was over her, axe in hand. She watched him, her vision blurred, as he brought it up over his head, his face one large snarl, and lowered it sharply.

  Everything went dark.

 

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