The Damned Place by Chris Miller

Author:Chris Miller [Miller, Chris]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Fiction, Horror, Thrillers, Suspense, Domestic, Fantasy, Urban, Paranormal
ISBN: 9781946874146
Google: JU_TDwAAQBAJ
Publisher: Black Bed Sheets Books
Published: 2020-02-27T23:00:00+00:00

Chapter 37

March 24th, 1906

I believe Mother has discovered that Daddy and I are building the trail. She seems more agitated than normal and I dare not approach her again. Not after seeing Cloris and hearing of their mad plan.

I made one attempt to tell Daddy about what I know, but I couldn’t bring myself to do it. What would Daddy think? He’d think me mad is what he would think. As mad as Mother. I couldn’t do it. He speaks to no-one but me now, and then only when we are working. The children have said he’s not spoken to them in many weeks now. This saddens my heart. They need their father and I am but a poor substitute for such a role. But Daddy seems so detached these days. I’m not sure why. Sometimes I think perhaps it is because of his great sadness at the loss of the woman he once knew—my mother—who now has little resemblance to what he married.

Ah, Mother. She has, in fact, spoken to the children, but there is no nurture in her voice when she does. She hasn’t referred to them by name, only, only...well, such horrible names. Richard is now ‘cock-licker’ and Evangeline is ‘little whore’. I’ve never raised my hand to a woman, and don’t mean to, but I damn near struck Mother when she spoke to Evangeline that way. Such hate in her! Evangeline is a fine young woman, and she deserves Mother’s respect and love.

But those days are over now, I presume. No surprise there. Normalcy has transformed into this strange nightmare now, and when I think of times past, back East, when things were good and we were happy, it’s as though I’m looking at the memories of someone else.

I find myself thinking of Cloris and Mother often, despite the terror I felt that day in the bedroom. They still palaver. I hear them sometimes, when Daddy and the children are out working or playing. But I dare not go back in there. My sanity won’t stand it.

Perhaps I’ve a deficient spine, and if so, so be it. Cloris is real. I must accept that. But the Glutton? Certainly, that is a fiction. It simply must be.

Right?

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