The Widow in the Woods: Part 12

If you missed the first part of The Widow in the Woods, you can find it here.

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

Part 6

Part 7

Part 8

Part 9

Part 10

Part 11

Before we get into today’s story, I have some exciting news: the entire book The Widow in the Woods is finished and now available on Amazon!

What you have been reading here is my first draft. The paperback and Kindle versions have been fleshed out to contain 247 pages, 22 chapters and an epilogue (that you can only get in the published book) of where some of the characters end up a year later. If you have enjoyed the story so far, I hope you will grab your copy today and help me push it to a #1 new release!

Now, onto today’s story…

Lexie and Grace were on their third round of dominoes when Christopher rejoined them in the parlor. He flung himself down on the sofa next to Lexie.

“Get me some water,” he ordered her.

Dutifully, she got up and went to fill a glass for him.

“Why is it so damned hot in here?” he asked Grace petulantly, blinking his eyes rapidly. “Close those curtains – this room is too bright. Are you trying to kill Ricky with your little sauna in here?”

Grace got up and closed the curtains. She was beginning to have a sneaking suspicion of what Lexie had done. When the girl re-entered the room, Grace looked at her inquiringly.

Lexie’s small smile was that of a cat with canary feathers sticking out of the corner of its mouth as she handed the glass to Christopher.

…

Suddenly, Christopher felt terrible. The sun seemed to be beating down on him relentlessly. He felt like he did that time he’d visited Death Valley on a road trip, with the high temperatures, unrelentingly light, and an arid environment that made his very skin feel dry.

He needed some water and he’d be fine.

He forced himself not to stagger as he re-entered the parlor and demanded refreshment. He didn’t want to let on like he was getting sick. He couldn’t show weakness.

Greedily, he snatched the glass from Lexie’s hands.

He took a thirsty gulp then nearly spat the drink out. It felt like razor blades slicing his throat as it went down. Yet he was so unbelievably thirsty. Even with the curtains closed, the bright light was blinding him and he had no idea how the old woman had lit the room up like this.

He leaned his head back against the couch and closed his eyes, blocking out the harsh glare for a moment so he could function. Was this a migraine, he wondered to himself.

He was so hot, so thirsty, and his eyes hurt.

He was coming down with something. Maybe it was the virus that had sent Lexie and Luke running back and forth to the outhouse.

Luke. His brother. He’d loved him.

Had Beth killed Luke? He imagined the scene Lexie had described, pictured Beth’s long red hair covering her face as she straddled Luke, pressing a pillow down, suffocating her. He was startled when, in his imagined scene, Beth turned her face to him and smiled. As she smiled, the skin vanished from her beautiful face, and all that was left was a gruesome skull, still smiling widely.

Abruptly, he shook himself from his reverie. That made his head pound even more.

He’d make her pay, he vowed. As soon as he took a quick nap. He tried again to drink some water but it was so painful he stopped at the first sip.

Lost in his strange reverie, he didn’t notice when Lexie and Grace quietly exited the room.

…

“What did you give him?” Grace hissed in a whisper when they got into the kitchen.

Lexie, still not accustomed to talking, pointed to the honeyed concoction Grace had made.

“It probably should’ve sat for another day, but it seems to be working,” Grace mused. “We have to figure out where to put him, so his brothers don’t see what’s happened. He won’t be able to walk much longer and he’s too heavy for us to carry. Also, I don’t really feel like digging him a hole.”

Sudden inspiration struck. She knew exactly what she would do. It would be rather karmic, considering how much of his life he’d spent terrorizing people with no repercussions.

In the meantime, Grace put some water on to boil. She would prepare some tea to intensify the effects that Christopher was experiencing.

“I suppose I can’t persuade you to stay safely behind?” she asked Lexie.

As expected, Lexie firmly shook her head no. There was something different in the girl’s eyes now. She had the look of a warrior instead of a victim.

She needed to do this.

…

An hour had passed, during which Christopher had all manner of terrifying dreams. Monsters…skulls with the skin peeled away…the ghosts of all those he had killed since the world turned upside down. The visions haunted him…terrified him…he couldn’t seem to awaken from the hellish nightmare world that held him captive. He wanted to scream but his throat and mouth were so parched he could barely get out a sound.

When the old lady shook him gently, he opened his eyes just a slit to keep the thrice-damned light from blinding him. “What?” he croaked.

“I have something for you.”

The old woman’s voice seemed to be coming from far away. She had made Rick better, so she would help him.  He took a sip from the cup she held to his lips, swallowing the fruity sweet concoction despite the pain it had caused. Even though the beverage had cooled to room temperature, it felt to him like it was still boiling, heating up his mouth and throat and coursing through his veins like thick molten lava. He was burning from the inside out, he thought frantically.

Dark had fallen yet the single beeswax candle on the mantle seemed brighter than the surface of the sun. Any time he looked directly at it, he felt like he was going blind.

Grace placed a cool, damp cloth on his head. It was imperative that he wake up enough to walk with them. When he seemed somewhat soothed, she told him, “I know where Beth is.”

Her voice sounded so sweet to his ears that he felt an unfamiliar pang of regret for what he had done to her. He couldn’t remember what it was, but he knew he didn’t deserve her kindness.

If his eyes hadn’t felt bone dry, tears would have spilled out of them. As it was, he felt the unfamiliar pressure of them and blinked rapidly to clear his eyes. Yet, he still couldn’t see properly.

He would apologize later.

As Christopher began to drift off again, Grace continued to wipe his face with cool water. “Come on,” she urged softly. “Don’t you want to take care of Beth? She killed your brother.”

Right.

Beth was the enemy now.

Christopher struggled to sit up, but everything was painful. Lexie and Grace each took a side and helped him to his feet. He wasn’t really walking, but staggering along, his surroundings passing him in a blur. He couldn’t identify whether he was inside or outside.

Slowly, the trio made their way to a path that he hadn’t known was there. “She’s up here,” Grace’s voice surrounded him. She sounded like an angel. She was helping him get his revenge. She even seemed to glow as the sun went down.

As Lexie pulled the branches aside, clearing the way for him, Grace’s sweet voice told him to see the light ahead. It twinkled in the trees, beckoning dimly, and seemed so very far away. The sound of the wind through the trees was haunting now, and he shuddered as he wondered if the spirits of those he had harmed were following him from his nightmares into this realm.

Grace had a drink for him in her apron pocket, in an old travel mug with a lid. Lexie held an actual star in her hand.

Painstakingly, he put one foot in front of the other. Walking took all his concentration, and he could hear nothing but the wind screaming through the tops of the trees.

…

It felt as though took forever for the two women to lead Christopher up the mountainside to the old root cellar. The lantern Lexie held lit their way as they slowly climbed up the path. By the time they arrived there, darkness had fully encompassed them.

“How did Lexie get a star in her hand?” Christopher asked, his voice filled with trepidation.

Lexie looked confused.

“He’s hallucinating,” Grace informed her. “It won’t be long now, but the hallucinations will get stronger first.”

Finally, they made it to the clearing outside of the old root cellar where Beth was entombed. Grace dropped down on a fallen tree, gasping and tired. Christopher’s knees buckled without her support, and he barely caught himself with his hands before his face hit the ground. Lexie was the only one who seemed not to be exhausted by the climb. In fact, she seemed exhilarated.

She had her voice back.

She took the drink from Grace’s pocket. “Just a little bit more,” she urged, giving him another sip of the sweetened concoction. “Are you ready to see Beth? To pay her back for killing Luke?”

…

Christopher nodded, though he couldn’t quite summon up the same level of rage he’d felt before. He was so hot. So thirsty. It was hard to see in the darkness but the lantern on the stump by the storage unit was far too bright. It reminded him of one of those flashlights that the cops had shone in people’s eyes to blind them and keep them from fighting back effectively.

Beth.

He would make her pay.

He staggered to his feet and swayed as he tried to get his balance. Lexie had thrown open the door of the root cellar while he’d been resting and a strange smell he couldn’t quite recognize emanated from it.

…

“She’s in here,” Lexie told him invitingly. Christopher stumbled across the forest floor, weaving and wobbling his way to the shipping container. He put his hand on the wall beside the door and stopped to catch his breath. Lexie put the lantern inside. She wanted him to be able to see what awaited him. She handed him the toxic drink.

“It’s time. Go get revenge. Do it for Luke.”

Unsteadily, he put one foot into the container. It felt damp and stick, but before he could figure out what the wetness was, he felt a sharp push from behind. As he stumbled in, the door slammed shut behind him.

“What the hell?” he muttered, confused. Everything seemed to spin in slow motion, and it was difficult to focus with the brightness of the lantern.

Lexie’s voice came to him and sounded far, far away. “You were right, Christopher. Neither one of us will forget this night.”

Why was she laughing? The laughter went on and on, mocking him. But where was it coming from.

He sat down on a crate so that he could figure things out.

And then he saw a horrific sight. It was Beth. Her face was frozen in a shriek, her skin was burned and raw looking. She was very still.

Then, as he watched in horror, the skin melted away from her face leaving only her grinning skull as she got up off the floor and came toward him, reaching for him with a bony hand.

“Beth, no!!!” he screamed, his normally baritone voice shrill with fear. “I’m sorry! I’m sorry!”

…

Grace jumped when she heard the screams begin behind the locked door of the old root cellar. They were like the screams in a horror movie, getting ever louder and more frightened as Christopher began to lose his voice. He was babbling – prayers, apologies, pleas for mercy.

There would be no mercy for him.

“Is there any chance Beth is still alive?” Lexie asked.

“None,” Grace replied firmly. “It’s all in his head and no less than he deserves after terrorizing others his entire life.”

She and Lexie linked arms and went back down the hill. She couldn’t tell if the screams were quieter because of the distance or because Christopher had lost his voice.

By the time they reached the bottom and pulled aside the branches to exit the path, the forest was silent except for the regular nighttime symphony of cicadas, wind through the leaves, and owls calling out their eternal question.

CONTINUE READING HERE…

About Daisy

Daisy Luther is a coffee-swigging, adventure-seeking, globe-trotting blogger. She is the founder and publisher of three websites.  1) The Organic Prepper, which is about current events, preparedness, self-reliance, and the pursuit of liberty; 2)  The Frugalite, a website with thrifty tips and solutions to help people get a handle on their personal finances without feeling deprived; and 3) PreppersDailyNews.com, an aggregate site where you can find links to all the most important news for those who wish to be prepared. Her work is widely republished across alternative media and she has appeared in many interviews.

Daisy is the best-selling author of 5 traditionally published books, 12 self-published books, and runs a small digital publishing company with PDF guides, printables, and courses at SelfRelianceand Survival.com You can find her on Facebook, Pinterest, Gab, MeWe, Parler, Instagram, and Twitter.