Ancient Enemy by Tiffany A. O'Brien

Author:Tiffany A. O'Brien [O’Brien, Tiffany A.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: BookBaby

THIRTY-TWO

She wasn’t sure what she’d heard, but something woke her. Bruce lay on his back beside her, snoring heartily. Janet closed her eyes, and was about to fall back to sleep when something thumped somewhere in the darkness outside their bedroom door.

“Bruce!” she whispered urgently, shaking his shoulder. He didn’t stir. He slept peacefully, happily snoring away. “Bruce!” This time she smacked his arm, but he didn’t move and his snoring went on unabated. She heard another thump and brought her hand down hard on his chest, but it didn’t wake him up.

The sound repeated several more times in succession, sending her heart into her throat. Clinging to Bruce, she willed him to come awake, but he wouldn’t – or couldn’t – wake up. A few minutes of silence passed, and then the thumping began again. It seemed louder now, more insistent – something really seemed to be trying hard to get her attention.

In the dark, she got out of bed and crept to the door. She could see clearly despite the blackness, and opening the door a crack, she saw only the empty hallway outside. Another round of thumping allowed her to pinpoint the source of the noise: It seemed to be coming from Mark’s room.

Unaware that she’d moved, Janet found herself in front of his door. The house was quiet now, as if whatever had summoned her knew she was there. The door before her suddenly opened and she knew she hadn’t touched it, but it was already open and already too late.

As her eyes fell on the horror behind the door, a wave of panic tore through her. She instinctively tried to rush toward her son, but was stopped just inside the doorway. Two hands slammed into her chest and shoved her forcefully backward. Losing her balance, she went down, landing hard on her tailbone. Wincing from the pain, she bit back a yelp, inhaling sharply through her teeth instead.

She remained on the floor for a minute, stunned by the fall as much as by the sight before her. Mark was suspended upside-down above his bed, his back to the door, the restraints cast aside on the floor. It was as though someone had tied his feet together and hung him from the ceiling fan, but an eerie glow allowed Janet to see that there was nothing holding him in place. Try as she might, she couldn’t find the source of the sickly greenish-yellow light that was forcing her to see everything in perfect detail. As she got to her feet, her son’s body began to turn around. Unable to move or to think, she stood gaping at the impossible and horrifying scene before her: Her son dangling in the air like a puppet with tangled strings, his arms crossed on his chest as though he lay in a coffin. The sight tore at her heart, and every nerve in her body was telling her to rush to help him, but she couldn’t move. It wouldn’t let her, and she was made to watch impotently as the thing that was once her son glared down at her.

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