The tears that had been welling behind Arielle’s eyes suddenly evaporated and were immediately replaced by fury.
She stepped past Martin and grabbed the woman by the arm.
“What the fuck did you say?”
Spit dribbled from Arielle’s lip, but she refused to wipe it away. She squeezed the woman’s triceps so hard that her fingers started to ache.
“What did you say?”
The woman failed to acknowledge either Arielle’s words or her grasp. Instead, her expression twisted into a sneer. Her face, which before might have before been described as cute if pointy, was suddenly all angles and shadows; hideous.
“Filius obcisor.” The woman’s voice was barely a whisper now.
“No, not that. What else did you say?”
The shock that had gripped Martin suddenly thawed. Apparently realizing that the bizarre situation was about to reach a head, he leaned over and tried to separate the two women. It took him three tries to pry Arielle’s fingers from the woman’s arm.
“Let go, Arielle,” he grumbled.
Arielle ignored him.
“What did you say?” she repeated between gritted teeth.
None the malice she laced her words with seemed to matter; the stupid fucking words—Filius obcisor—that the woman uttered were some sort of anti-venom.
“Arielle, let’s get out of here.”
Martin tried to turn her, but Arielle held her ground.
Did she really say what I think she did?
She couldn’t let it go… the only person who had ever said that to her had been—
“Filius obcisor!”
“What did you say to me, you fucking bitch?”
“Woah! Arielle, calm down. Let’s just get out of here.”
She felt Martin’s hands grab her by the shoulders and attempt to guide her toward the door. This time she let him; if she didn’t, she knew that Martin would eventually just pick her up and haul her out of there, whether she wanted to leave or not.
“Filius obcisor!”
The strange words sounded as if they were coming at her in stereo now, and Arielle managed with great effort to tear her eyes from the psycho with the black hair. The other two women that had been in the church when they had arrived were now staring at her, their own lips twisted in matching sneers.
“Filius obcisor!” all three women shouted in unison.
What the fuck?
Arielle didn’t know if she said the words, if Martin had, or if she just thought them.
But they had never been more appropriate.
What the FUCK?!
The woman in the pews stepped into the aisle and her rosary, clutched so desperately only moments earlier, fell to the ground in a clatter, unwanted, useless.
“Filius obcisor!” she hissed.
The third woman was still standing in the glow of the stained glass, but now her head was facing forward and her eyes were not trained on Martin, who had succeeded in getting them both within a few feet of the large wooden door, but on her.
In her.
“Filius obcisor! Filius obcisor! Filius obcisor!!!”
To continue reading, grab your copy of MOTHER today!
Other Books by Patrick Logan
The Haunted Series
Book 1: Shallow Graves
Book 2: The Seventh Ward
Book 3: Seaforth Prison
Insatiable Series
Book 1: Skin
Book 2: Crackers
Book 3: Flesh
Book 4: Parasite
Book 5: Stitches (Winter 2016)
Family Values Trilogy
Witch
Mother
Father
Daughter (Winter 2016)
Short Stories
System Update
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Not all houses are made of brick and stone...
Robert Watts is having the worst day of his entire life: first he's laid off, then he finds out that his wife is having an affair... with his boss no less. And that's only the beginning.
Before the month is out, Robert finds himself alone to raise his daughter with no money, no job, and a house that is minutes from being repossessed. Just when he hits rock bottom, a strange visitor arrives at the doorstep of his soon to be foreclosed house with a letter from an Aunt he didn't know existed.
The offer is simple: look after Aunt Ruth during her dying days, and in return Robert will be bequeathed the Harlop Estate in which she currently resides. It's a no brainer and Robert jumps at the opportunity, equally motivated by the prospect of financial security as he is for a fresh start.
Problem is, it only takes a few nights in the Harlop Estate before he begins to question Aunt Ruth's claims that they are the home's only inhabitants...
It's the scratching he hears during the night, the voices that he can barely make out over the constant rain, and then there's the girl with the rat...
With their house foreclosed and their bank accounts liquidated, Robert and his daughter Amy desperately need a place to live. But the question Robert soon finds himself struggling with is whether living in the Harlop Estate is worth it... and if he can survive until Aunt Ruth passes to collect his inheritance.
Grab your copy today!
This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents in this book are either entirely imaginary or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual people, living or dead, or of places, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Copyright © Patrick Logan 2016
Cover design: Ebook Launch (www.ebooklaunch.com)
Interior design: © Patrick Logan 2016
Editing: Main Line Editing (www.mainlineediting.com)
All rights reserved.
This book, or parts thereof, cannot be reproduced, scanned, or disseminated in any print or electronic form.
Second Edition: October, 2016
Witch Page 13
