Silence in the Woods (Monsters in the Green Mountains Book 1) by J.P. Choquette

Author:J.P. Choquette [Choquette, J.P.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Scared E Cat Books
Published: 2019-04-09T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter Twelve

Allan Warning

Saturday, September 8, 1917

Shiny Creek Trail

Allan woke with a start. He remembered two things immediately: the monster he’d seen in the darkness and that Deidre was gone. He shook his head slowly, tried to clear away the cobwebby stickiness in his mind.

The cave was quiet. Allan inventoried his body, testing hands, feet, legs, and arms, turning his neck and his head, which pounded. Then he let out a breath. A sense of hopelessness and despair pressed against him.

He’d failed.

You are worthless. The voice sidled up beside him, its whisper harsher, more grating than before.

Allan put his hands over his ears, then tried to get up. He stumbled, sank back down, and tried again. The second time he made it, raised himself on spongy legs and leaned against a large boulder nearby.

You couldn’t even do the most simple of tasks. Punish her for what she did to you. She made you a laughing stock, Allan. You really are pitiful, aren’t you?

Allan felt the same shame from childhood, hot, sticky, and sickening. He shook his head, tried to clear it. He’d had her here, right here in his arms. Had the knife…but then that beast had come out of nowhere, had tossed Allan as though he were a rag doll.

It’s because you’re weak, Allan. Again, the voice slithered through his mind. So weak… it trailed off, its whisper ending in a sigh. His parents had done that. Sighed over Allan. Never would he measure up to his golden sister, especially after her death. Then she and the baby were immortalized, living forever in a perfect memory in his parents’ minds. Not to mention the minds of their family and friends…always there, a silent, accusing reminder of his inadequacy.

And then like a moving picture, Allan could see the past playing out behind his eyelids. Like Charlie Chaplin, the images danced across his mind. From childhood mistakes and disappointments to ways, he’d failed or disappointed or not been up to par as an adult. He heard the hushed voices when he entered a room; the pointed glances when he’d made a mistake in some new way; goals he’d set that had been thwarted. Allan could see the raised eyebrows and low murmurs about the “poor Warnings.” And he felt the weight of it all like a physical pressure. It drove him to his knees. His head dropped into his hands, a sob rose in his throat.

Why not end it all?

The voice whispered, its voice loud—so loud—in Allan’s ears. Why not free yourself?

He felt exhausted suddenly. So tired that it was an effort to even kneel. He shrank into himself, his body curling into a fetal position on the hard stones of the cave’s floor.

Worthless. The voice hissed.

Pathetic.

Silence for a moment. Allan could hear the strange grating sound he’d heard earlier. It was closer now. Very close.

You can stop the pain.

Allan shook his head.

You can be free, Allan.

He stood again, leaned on the big boulder.

Look. The voice commanded and Allan knew he should look upward.

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