Cryer's Cross
Page 15
Kendall clears her throat. “Whatever happened to the boy in the story? Piere?” she asks.
Hector pulls himself from his thoughts and glances at old Mr. Greenwood, who frowns mightily at the fire. “He made it,” Hector says softly. “He did himself proud.”
When the wooden desktop collapses in on itself and shudders in the ashes, Kendall feels a rush of cold escape her lungs and hears a faint drawn-out scream.
But then it’s gone again.
WE
We feel the heat, and for a moment, We believe! Life is back. But this heat is intense, not gentle. Not submissive but searing. Painful.
We moan, scream, Our face cracking like gunfire. . like a whip. Thirty-five, one hundred. One hundred! ONE HUNDRED!
The fire consumes Our wooden host. It burns, breaks, explodes. Releases Our remaining souls to travel to Our final resting places.
Or.
To find new places to hide.
And wait.
Touch me.
FB2 document info
Document ID: ooofbtools-2011-5-11-15-24-42-355
Document version: 1
Document creation date: 11.05.2011
Created using: ExportToFB21, FictionBook Editor Release 2.6 software
Document authors :
ed hurdee
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