The Haunting Of Quenby Mansion: Book 0 by J.S. Donovan

Author:J.S. Donovan
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: horror, haunting, horror fiction, hauntings, haunting tales, horror dark, haunting ghost, horror curse, horror creepy
Publisher: Roger Hayden

Chapter Seven

Gunner

Evelyn checked the cartridge of the shotgun. One shot had been fired. The second gun told the same story.

Evelyn and Terrence sat in quiet for a moment, overwhelmed by the mansion’s silence. Outside, trees swayed calmly in the wind. The unmowed grass spotted with dandelions, weeds, and other wildflowers bent as if bowing to the high sun.

Without a word, Terrence grabbed one of the guns and unloaded the shells within. By the time he finished, ammo was spilling from his palm onto the painted white floor. He trembled slightly and started on the next gun, getting frustrated when one of the bullets jammed in the chamber. Evelyn put her hand on his thigh to calm him. Terrence tensed up.

“I don’t know what the hell we did last night,” Terrence said with a trembling voice. “But I’m not going to take any chances.”

“We need to stay levelheaded,” Evelyn said.

Terrence shook his head, ignoring her words. “I’m getting rid of these guns.”

Before Evelyn could say a word, her husband was choking a shotgun in each hand and his pajama pockets were packed with ammo. Evelyn followed his march out the door. They walked out into the expansive backyard and far beyond the cotton field. Morning dew wetted their feet in their open toe slippers. Evelyn chewed her nails as she walked. Her other hand clenched a shovel. Terrence never asked her to pick it up, but Evelyn took the initiative. Sleepwalking with a high-powered weapon was not something she’d ever want to do again. Terrence dug a shallow hole, wrapped the weapons, and tossed them in. While Evelyn kicked the dirt over the shotguns, Terrence buried the ammo half an acre away, swaddling them in a towel before placing them in the hole.

After throwing their dirty clothes into the wash and showering, they put on their day clothes, sat on the walnut-colored sofa with green and gold floral upholstery in the living room, booted up their portable Wi-Fi hotspot, and opened their laptops. For a good hour, they browsed the local news in search of murders or gun crimes committed the night before. She found articles regarding an upcoming farmers market special and other small local events. There was nothing about murder or shots heard in the night. Evelyn didn’t count her blessings. The day was still young.

“Maybe we’ll never know what happened,” Terrence said, his dark eyes glued on the computer screen. “Maybe it’s for the better.”

Evelyn nodded. In most cases, she’d want to know all the gritty details, but something about what happened last night made her stomach churn. She was hoping she’d have some recollection, but that hadn’t happened for the other blackouts, and she knew that it wouldn’t happen for this one.

“Life goes on,” Terrence said, talking to himself more than Evelyn. “We move on. No need to talk about it. We’ll get some medication, clean the house, and hit the road back to Detroit. Simple.”

“We can’t go back,” Evelyn said, watching the news anchor with unblinking eyes.

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