The Christmas Bell by L.A. Detwiler

Author:L.A. Detwiler
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: horror, Christmas horror, paranormal horror, horror fiction, horror suspense, smalltown horror, horror supernatural, horror ghost
Publisher: L.A. Detwiler
Published: 2020-11-09T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Fifteen

Candace

The funeral wouldn’t be until after the holidays because the police were still investigating. The town was in an uproar over the murder of Rosalie, and Marian had been questioned ad nauseum about the discovery. Candace lay in bed, sickened with grief and angered that they’d been entwined in it.

What the police didn’t know was that they’d never find the killer unless they looked to the supernatural realm. But Candance, Marian, Anne, and Eva knew the truth. Most of all, they knew that most likely, they were next on the list of victims. They were all about to become cold cases that would never be solved.

Candace had heard ghost stories growing up. She’d watched The Blair Witch Project with her friends, screaming nonsensically and giggling. But ghosts weren’t real, and they certainly didn’t kill people. Even now, it seemed ludicrous to believe. Believe it they did, though. Because Rachel had made her presence known. She was out for revenge.

But for what?

They’d tried prying the information out of Grandma Anne, but her lucidity was fading. Perhaps from the stress of the situation, or perhaps from the other unseen monster that was taking her away, piece by piece—her dementia. Still, they didn’t know any more than they had when Candace had naively unboxed that hellish Christmas bell.

It really didn’t matter, though, that they were in the dark about Rachel’s motives, Candace thought as she pulled herself out of bed to wander to the kitchen for more coffee. Even if they knew Rachel’s agenda, how would they stop her? How could they calm a being whom they didn’t even begin to understand?

Candace’s mother sat at the table, weary and pale. No one had slept at all, between the police investigation, the horrors of the death, and the fear that Rachel would come for them.

There’d been a few rustlings last night—footsteps, whispers, and blinking lights on the tree. But overall, it had been quiet, calm. Candace dared to hope that maybe Rachel was done—she’d slaughtered her victim. Maybe this was the end. Deep down, though, the words Marian had heard echoed.

They were next. It wasn’t over. Perhaps it was even worse that Rachel hadn’t come last night, that the house had been silent and peaceful. The anticipation was always worse than the actual deed, after all.

A soft rapping on the door interrupted Candace’s stilted words she was about to spew at her mother.

“I’ll get it,” Candace replied, weary and terrified to open the door and see what new horrors awaited them.

When the door creaked open, her eyes landed on Eva, but it took her a moment to process it all. Usually tidy and streamlined in appearance, Eva wore pajama pants, a bath robe, and bags under her eyes. Her hair was in a frizzy bun, and she looked even paler than yesterday. It made sense. Rosalie and Eva had, of course, stayed close friends even after Candace was long gone. Candace automatically wrapped her friend in a hug, leading the weeping woman into the kitchen as Marian stood to greet her.

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