Shattered
Page 8
“I’m not dead?”
“Somehow you ended up in the bottom flat. A couple of people had gathered outside. One of the guys found you unconscious on the sidewalk, covered in shattered glass. He pulled you away from the inferno. Don’t you remember?”
I remembered everything. I’d seen it all too well.
“What about the old woman?”
“The old lady next door wasn’t in. She had gone to visit a friend she hadn’t seen in a long time. She told me to tell you thanks, whatever that means.”
The nurse returned with a jug of cool water and a couple of painkillers.
“Here you are, dear. I’m afraid visiting time is over, sir,” she said to Liam.
He nodded and gave me a kiss on the forehead.
“Get some rest. I’ll be back first thing in the morning and we’ll get this all sorted out. You’re going to be fine.” He handed me a number of cards. “Oh, I nearly forgot, people sent these for you.”
I took them and sighed. I didn’t want him to go, but I knew he had to and even though I had been out for the past four days, I was still exhausted. I watched Liam walk down the corridor and then turned to the cards.
The first was in a blue envelope. It had a number of coffee stain drops on it and was a bit tatty. I opened it and smiled at the cute puppy holding a “Get Well Soon” balloon on the front. I smiled even harder when I opened it.
TO STACEY,
GET WELL SOON, MRS.!
LOVE, MARTY
The second envelope was pink. I opened it slowly and felt the corners of my lips curl into an even wider smile as I lifted out the little present inside—a necklace. It was exactly the same as the one Hope had given me. I held it in the light, admiring the tiger’s eye encased in the silver clasp. The card said:
DEAREST STACEY,
I THOUGHT YOU COULD DO WITH HAVING ANOTHER ONE OF THESE. I BELIEVE THE OTHER HAS BEEN LOST. FOREVER BE CHARMED IN YOUR LIFE.
LOVE, HOPE
XOXO
Epilogue
I stirred restlessly in my hospital bed, but my eyes were so heavy I couldn’t open them. My head was sore and pounding mercilessly. My throat was scratchy and tasted like smoke. I moaned, breaking the silence of the entire ward. The hospital room had turned cold and goose bumps cascaded over my bruised and battered arms.
I managed to slowly open my eyelids halfway. It was dark, although the blinds on the window hadn’t been closed properly, so the gray moonlight spewed in between the slats. My bones ached and my muscles burned. I reached with one hand for the medication strap on my wrist but stopped short.
At the foot of my bed stood two little boys on either side of a little girl. They were all smiling sweetly. My God, I know them. The little girl giggled.
“It was you…you were all there. You tried to help me,” I whispered to the specters.
They all nodded, grinning happily like children in a toy shop. I smiled back at them instinctively, but my face dropped as I looked beyond them. Dark ooze had started to seep and trickle down the walls. I could taste it—the acrid, metallic scent of blood—as it began cascading faster and more violently, covering the wall and splashing onto the floor.
I turned my gaze toward the window as it began to splinter.
I gasped as the crack spread from the bottom right-hand corner across the entire expanse of the window. I flung my eyes back to the children in time only to see them being sucked through the blood. Their bodies were being twisted gruesomely as they were dragged into the shadows. They each had the look of sheer terror on their faces and their mouths contorted to the shape of silent screaming.
“No, no, no…” I whispered, fumbling for the panic button.
I looked back up and there he stood, looming ominously. He looked more real this time, more tangible. I could make out his face, his clothes, his top hat. I suddenly felt a force pushing me down. I was paralyzed in the hospital bed. Each bone frozen, every muscle tensed to a snapping point. It was as though I had been strapped down with invisible restraints to the gurney, and I began to cry.
* * *
“No more, please, please, no more, no more,” the woman cried into the night.
But the doctor moved toward her smoothly, an evil grin painted on his face. In a single swift motion, he raised his arm in a high arc. The blade glinted in the silvery moonlight.
And then the screaming started once more…
About the Author
C.S. Kane is a purveyor of suspense horror literature. Kane lives in Northern Ireland in a village just outside Belfast. She resides with her husband and their loyal minion, Dexter. After suffering an unexplained and seriously severe brain bleed at the age of twenty-four, Kane subsequently fell out of employment. The shocking experience proved to be a great motivator. Writing has been a constant in Kane’s life and other interests include living life to the full, watching old movies, eating good food and sipping the odd tipple.
Join the Kindle Book Club
THE PREMIER DARK FICTION BOOK CLUB FOR YOUR KINDLE!
* Save 50% off on the cover prices to new DarkFuse releases
* Get 5 free titles when you join for the first time
* Get access to an online members-only community
* Get a lifetime subscription to Horror d'oeuvres
LEARN HOW