The Whisperer (Nightmare Hall) by Diane Hoh

Author:Diane Hoh [Hoh, Diane]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781453250860
Publisher: Open Road Media
Published: 2012-03-27T07:00:00+00:00

Chapter 11

HOW COULD HE DO this to her?

She had done what he’d told her. She hadn’t wanted to, and it had turned out even worse than she’d expected, but she had done it.

But he hadn’t kept his promise.

And you really thought he would?

Shea slid the cassette free and turned off the VCR.

“You should never hang up on me.”

The whisper caught Shea off guard. There was no one else in the lounge.

“It makes me mad,” the voice continued. “It’s really very rude.”

The whispered words seemed to be coming from directly in front of her. From … the cabinet?

Shea bent at the waist, reached out and tugged on the brass door handles directly beneath the TV shelf. The doors remained firmly in place.

He had to be in there. There was no other place.

He had guessed that she would come directly to the lounge to watch the tape. And he’d been waiting for her.

“You broke your promise!” she hissed. “I did what you said. It was stupid and cruel, but I did it. Now Bethany’s in the hospital. She could have died. And I still don’t have that videotape.”

“You would have it if you hadn’t exhibited such atrocious manners last night.”

“Tandy was in the room!” Shea cried. “I couldn’t talk.”

“No excuses, please. Actually, it’s Tandy I wish to discuss with you.”

“What?” Shea stared at the cabinet. “I don’t want to discuss anything with you. I just want that tape!”

“Sorry. Not just yet. You blew your chance when you had it. Now you’re going to have to prove to me all over again how much you want it.”

Furious, Shea grabbed the door handles on the cabinet again and yanked with all her might. In vain. They didn’t give an inch.

“Do you know the story of Samson and Delilah, Shea?”

“Yes!” she snapped, glancing over her shoulder to make sure the room was still empty. It was. How long before someone came in and saw her talking to the TV cabinet … “Delilah chopped off all of Samson’s hair and robbed him of his strength. What does that have to do with anything?”

“Well, I’ll tell you,” the whisperer answered slyly. “It’s that roommate of yours. Tandy is so vain. Disgustingly so. Always tossing around that hair of hers.”

“She’s not that bad,” Shea said loyally, even as an image of Tandy combing and brushing and blow-drying and braiding and tossing the waist-long hair danced before her eyes.

Ignoring her, the whisperer continued. “You’re going to teach Tandy a lesson in humility. You’re going to play Delilah to her Samson.”

Voices sounded faintly in the distance. Were they approaching the lounge? “What are you talking about?” Shea asked quickly.

The whisper became harsh, with an edge to it. “By tomorrow morning, Tandy had better have only a few inches of hair left on her head, or that videotape will be in the hands of the police by noon.”

Shea gasped. “You want me to cut off her hair? Why? That’s crazy!”

“Don’t you dare call me crazy! I told you, she needs to be taught a lesson.

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