Whispers by Kristin Dearborn

Author:Kristin Dearborn
Language: eng
Format: mobi
Tags: author, Science, Horror, writer, mythos, cthulu, Literary, Fiction, Lovecraft
Publisher: Lovecraft eZine Press
Published: 2016-11-28T22:00:00+00:00

11 – ALMOST HEAVEN

She sounded foolish, saying it out loud, but it’s what they were. Aliens. And they wanted her to go with them, past the edges of the solar system, back to their place.

Questions stampeded across Neveah’s face. She looked like she didn’t want to believe it, but felt compelled to. The proof lay dead at her feet, after all. She finally decided on a question. “Why are they here?”

“There are metals on earth they can’t get where they’re from.”

“How do you know that?”

“They’ve told me.”

Neveah took a step back.

We need your help. Someone like you. Someone to study our folklore, to chronicle it, document it for us. Our culture is changing, and soon no one will remember the old ways. It was supposed to be nice to be needed. But they’d told her how they traveled, and she wasn’t willing to make that step.

“Why are they harassing you?”

“I know too much about them. They don’t like it when we get too curious.”

“What did you do?”

“I think the last straw came when I recorded them—you’ve heard them, they sound like bugs, buzzing. I recorded it on my phone and sent it to a folklorist down in Massachusetts.”

“What did he say?”

“I don’t think she believes me. I think she thinks I’m crazy.” And why wouldn’t she? Sarah’s letters—she didn’t trust email, and the phone didn’t work out here anymore—had grown more and more bizarre over the past few months. She knew how she sounded, she wasn’t stupid. She imagined herself, six months ago, receiving letters like the ones she’d sent Dr. Leary. Except... She’d grown up in these woods. She knew things weren’t quite as they seemed or should be. She knew there had always been an “other” type of feeling here. It was part of the reason she hadn’t wanted to leave. Like her own private Bigfoot.

Now, every day, she thought more and more about going to be with her daughter. Cassie’d told her to come to California, told her she’d like the climate and the people and the Pacific. Maybe she was right.

She thought of Cassie, then stole a glance at Neveah, a juxtaposition of angles and curves. Sharp elbows and knees, soft hips and breasts.

Sarah looked back at the thing on the ground, disgusted with herself. She’d been under siege almost a month, though. This creature wasn’t new or novel any more, it was routine. They came every night, the aliens or their human lackeys. One night Asa Gardner had nearly made it into her house, and she hadn’t had her shotgun loaded. She’d managed to hit him with it before he grabbed her and dragged her out, but damn, had he been close. She’d almost been outside with him. And what then?

She had an idea, though she didn’t know the mechanics—and she hoped to never know them.

“What are you going to do?”

“Leave,” Sarah said, though it came out as more of a question. “I don’t want to. I’ve lived here all my life. I grew up here.

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