The Cornelius Saga Series (All 15 Books): The Ultimate Adventure-packed Supernatural Thriller Collection

by Tanya R. Taylor

  Ashley looked at her father after biting into one of the tarts. “She’s stressed out again,” she said.

  John didn’t immediately make eye contact, but sighed. “When isn’t she? I’m going upstairs to take a nap. It’s been a rough few days.”

  Ashley cracked a smile.

  “See you later.”

  “Okay, dad.”

  As John went upstairs, Ashley returned to the living room. She stood quietly out of her mother’s view, watching her play the piano. Cindy was clearly now entranced by the music as if each note had been painstakingly produced. It was evident in the way she swayed her head rather wildly from side to side. Ashley likened those movements of hers to a case of possession–completely consumed by something in the chords she could not see and had no desire in the slightest to.

  3

  _________________

  Leaving her mother to her passion, Ashley proceeded up the stairs to her bedroom. She sat on the bed near the window facing north, and looked down at the Cullens’ single storey house. She hoped the people there weren’t too put off by her mother as their last neighbors had been. She vaguely remembered ever playing for any reasonable length of time with any of the neighbor’s kids while growing up because her mother strictly forbade her “keeping company with strange people”. Ashley gave herself a proverbial pat on the back for the times she was able to sneak away and rebel against her mother’s wishes whenever she wasn’t at home. Those were the good days. It turned out she made some pretty decent friends because of it, whom she now freely communicated with and who she knew she could rely on—despite the fact that they were miles apart.

  Her L-shaped computer desk had been pushed against the wall under the window, on the exterior of which stood a tall Paper Birch tree. She imagined the way she was now situated in that house would have been an ideal setting when she was growing up in Colonsboro. She thought of how easy it would’ve been for her to crawl out of her window, make a few steps across the roof and carefully climb down that tree and escape for a few hours with her friends to get in some secret party time. She got up off the bed and sat in front of her computer, then pulled out the top drawer to her right and retrieved a CD. She intended to download a few more songs to it from the internet since she didn’t get to complete the process. She’d been in the middle of transferring some music back in Colonsboro when her mother urged her to finalize her packing for the move. The journey to Mizpah was going to be a long drive.

  As the blue bar slowly stretched across the screen while the first song she selected downloaded, Ashley heard an indistinct shuffle behind her and quickly turned around. Her bedroom was fourteen feet long by thirteen wide with white walls. Pink curtains were tucked neatly to each side of the windows by thin rope-straps. The tiny closet was on the opposite side of where she sat and its bifold door pushed outward, offering adequate view of the interior of the space. As Ashley heard the “ting” that indicated the completion of her download, her attention was shifted back toward the computer—until she could have sworn on her beloved Grandma Ellen’s grave she heard a subtle whisper of her name right on the nape of her neck. Ashley turned abruptly, then eased up from her chair. She could feel the hairs on her arm rise to attention as she stood there for a full ten seconds scanning the room. Again, by witness of the naked eye, she was utterly alone. Logic and reasoning prompted her that in light of that, she should not have heard the distinct whisper in her ear. The initial shuffling could possibly be explained by the activity of a large cockroach or rodent—maybe! But not the voice.

  With her mother’s music still permeating the entire house, she exited the bedroom and headed down the narrow hallway to her parents’ room. A few boxes, filled with mostly her parents’ things, lined the side of the hallway as Cindy refused to bring them into their bedroom until she’d sorted out the two boxes that were already in there. Perfectly organized from stem to stern, clutter aggravated her to no end. In fact, the movers were not permitted to leave the house until they’d put each piece of furniture in its rightful place. Ashley and her father were amazed at how quickly they did so too, considering who was bossing them around. But then, that might make sense as the sooner they’d completed the job, the sooner they’d be able to get the hell out of there. The place had been cleaned from top to bottom by a professional cleaning company before the Morrisons made the trip down there. Cindy had ensured the job was properly overseen by the Manager of Andy’s Cleaning and Janitorial Services, whose cousin had purchased a prime piece of real estate in Colonsboro for a steal—all thanks to Cindy and her savvy maneuvering. Cindy won big, nevertheless, as the agreement set her up for an unusually high percentage of the sale. She told her client she could get the property at a lower price than was advertised and…so said, so done. She’d persuaded her colleague on the other end to convince the seller that facing foreclosure instead of taking less than what the land was worth would’ve been foolhardy. It took a while for them to see the light, but they eventually did, much to Cindy and her client’s satisfaction.

  Approaching her parents’ room, Ashley gently pushed the door in and discovered her father stretched across the bed on his belly, fast asleep. In spite of the music playing, he was clearly undisturbed. In fact, usually after resting his sleepy head on his pillow, there was nothing that could keep him awake. Deep sleep often swept right over him like a tidal wave.

  Ashley quietly pulled the room door shut again and turned to leave. She stood there for a moment, wondering if she’d somehow imagined the faint whisper she’d just minutes before could’ve sworn she’d heard and the breath of someone she’d even felt on her neck.

  Maybe I’m just tired, she thought. Maybe I should be doing precisely what Dad’s doing right now. It must be the stress of the move and having had to leave everything that was familiar.

  She stopped at the bathroom to wash her face before returning to her bedroom. In the back of her mind, she wondered how long her mother would be sitting there at the piano this time. Sometimes, it literally went on for hours, and no one was man or woman enough to disturb her loud solitude.

  Ashley looked around the room again and this time walked over to the closet. She’d already hung all of her casual and church outfits there and had at least a dozen pairs of sneakers neatly lined across the closet floor. She had most colors she could think of—purple ones, yellow, black, white, red, blue, gray, pink. Her plan was to continue to replenish them every eighteen months and give away the old ones to a children’s home. A few slippers and closed-in shoes were seated in a row behind the sneakers. She didn’t care very much for those, although she did wear them from time to time. Ashley loved the sporty look. It sort of became her trademark ever since she was in seventh grade and became athletic. She was on the volleyball, basketball and track teams and had brought home numerous trophies, which had been stacked in a large box for the journey to Mizpah. That box was handled extra carefully as Cindy made sure of it. Ashley used to wonder why Cindy paid such close attention to detail even when it came to decorating their house. It wasn’t like they often had anyone come over even for a visit. She soon realized that nothing Cindy did was for anyone outside of her family. If she did anything which seemed even remotely charitable, there was a hidden benefit somewhere in that for Cindy.

  Somewhat satisfied that she’d probably imagined the whole eerie thing several minutes earlier, Ashley returned to her computer desk again and proceeded to download the next song.

  4

  _________________

  The first night…

  By 10:00 p.m., the Morrison house was in complete darkness. Cool breeze sailed past Ashley’s curtains into her spacious bedroom; moments later, filling the room with a coldness which penetrated her deep sleep.

  Instinctively, she turned from her side to her back, pulling the covers up to her neck, yet exhaustion kept her eyes shut and her mind still at rest. It wasn’t until she heard the whisper of her name again in her ear that her eyes suddenly popped open into bla
ckness above and around her. It couldn’t be—not again! Could she be hearing things? Then she heard the voice again—a soft, feminine voice she did not recognize. It seemed to be coming from the direction of the closet. Immediately, she reached over to the nightstand and switched on the lamp. Sitting up in bed, she felt a chill blanketing her skin even more.

  Wearing nothing more than a thin, cotton nightdress, she got up and slowly made her way over to the closet. The bifold door was still ajar and all she could see were the dozens of shoes lined off neatly inside and clothing hanging from the steel rod. Then, as she went to turn, something caught the corner of her eye and she faced the closet again, focusing downwards towards the rows of shoes, specifically, her sneakers. For a moment, she wondered if her eyes were deceiving her, as slowly, but surely, she saw the tied laces she never unties before taking off her sneakers, simultaneously untie themselves. She gasped; her eyes glued to the action in front of her. Then, one by one, she saw the laces being re-tied into even neater knots than before. Perfect, little knots. Terrified, she screamed, yanked open the bedroom door and ran for her parents’ room. By the time she arrived, her father was attempting to get out of bed as he’d heard her scream and her mother was sitting up.

  “Dad! Mom! There’s something freaky going on in my room!” Ashley exclaimed.

  “What are you talking about, child?” Cindy appeared to be more annoyed than concerned.

  John went to his daughter and held her. “What happened, Ash?”

  “I heard the voice of a woman whisper in my ear while I was asleep! It’s the second time I heard that same voice. I heard it earlier today too. Then, my closet…my sneakers…”

  “What about your sneakers, Ashley?” Cindy got up.

  Ashley looked into her father’s eyes. “The laces were all moving by themselves!”

  “Nonsense!” Cindy abruptly raised her hands.

  “It’s not! I saw the laces being loosed, then tied again and I wasn’t the one who was doing it!”

  “Who was it then?” Cindy’s arms were now folded.

  “It happened all by itself. Honest, Dad! I’m not lying.”

  Not knowing what to make of his daughter’s claims, John walked with her back to her bedroom and Cindy reluctantly trailed behind them.

  John flipped the light switch on and looked around the room. Then, he walked over to the closet and looked at the shoes. “What did you say happened in here?” he asked.

  “My sneakers’ laces were moving as if someone was untying then tying them again. It was freaky, and it’s the truth! I swear!” She glanced at her mother before turning to her father again.

  “You sure you weren’t dreaming?” he asked.

  “I was wide awake and I know what I saw!”

  He moved away from the closet and looked around the room again; even knelt down and checked under the bed for God knows what.

  Standing up again, he arched a brow. “Well, there’s nothing here, Ash. All I can think is maybe you thought you were awake, but were really dreaming. Why don’t you go back to bed and if you want, just for the night, you can keep the lights on?”

  Ashley wasn’t sure what to think or how to respond.

  Cindy sighed. “Let me go back to bed. I can’t afford to lose any sleep. Ashley, go back to bed and get this nonsense out of your mind.”

  She walked out of the room, leaving Ashley and her husband standing there.

  John put his arm around Ashley’s shoulder. “Get some sleep, honey. There’s nothing for you to be afraid of. With the stress of the move, anything is possible, you know?”

  She slowly nodded.

  “I’ll see you in the morning, okay?” He kissed her forehead.

  “Okay, Dad.”

  Thinking that her father’s assumptions might be right, Ashley tried to dismiss what happened and decided to focus on getting back to sleep.

  After flipping off the light switch, she realized the room was not as cold as it was when she’d woken up. She went back to bed, leaving the lamp on, and pulled the covers up to her chest. Taking a deep breath in, she closed her eyes and invited sleep to come her way. The only sound she heard was the quiet buzzing of the standing, oscillating fan on her left.

  After a few minutes, she felt herself drifting off again, when suddenly, right out of the blue, she heard that voice again—nothing but a whisper. But this time, she felt its breath, and even smelled it. It bore the stench of a damp rag or something of the sort. Ashley opened her eyes, instinctively looked to her right and beheld a blonde woman lying next to her. She had long, straight hair and wore a little beige dress with rips throughout. The woman appeared to be looking up toward the ceiling. Then, as if she’d felt Ashley’s horrified stare, she slowly turned and looked her way, exposing a dark, gaping hole where her left eye should’ve been and a right eye swollen shut. Her pasty skin was discolored by something resembling mud and her lips were cracked and slightly bleeding.

  As if plastered to the bed, Ashley released a spine-chilling scream which nearly took the roof off the house.

  Within seconds, John and Cindy had rushed to her room. Cindy promptly switched on the light and to their surprise, Ashley was lying in bed, gazing up toward the ceiling and appeared to be in a state of shock.

  Cindy hurried to her side. “Ashley, what’s the matter?” The girl’s eyes were as wide as a soccer field. John quickly checked the room, then darted out down the stairs to see if there’d been an intruder.

  “Mom!” Ashley whispered loudly, not daring to turn to her right again, but instead shifting her eyes in that direction. Paralyzed by fear, she contemplated seeing the dreadful sight a second time.

  “What? What happened?” Cindy prodded.

  Ashley squeezed her eyes shut just for a moment, then opened them again and said, still in a whisper, “Look at her. She’s lying next to me.”

  Cindy looked at the bed. “Look at who? Who are you talking about? Ashley, are you going insane?”

  “Cindy!” John snarled as he entered the room. “Would you watch what you’re saying to her?”

  Cindy got up suddenly. “You handle her, then, since you’re so good at it! Some people will do anything— anything at all to have their way.” She peered down at Ashley, who’d just mustered the courage to turn her head in the direction she dreaded. “Is this your way of trying to convince your father to return to Colonsboro? Do you miss your friends that much, Ashley? Is that it? Huh?”

  “No!” Ashley sat up. “I saw a woman in my bed, lying right there!” She pointed. “She looked…dead.”

  John shook his head, then combed his fingers through his hair. He looked exhausted. “You saw a woman? In your bed?”

  Slightly trembling, Ashley quickly nodded. “I know how this sounds, Dad, but I’m not crazy and I’m not doing any of this for attention. You’ve gotta believe me!”

  He sat down next to her. “Do you wanna sleep in our room?”

  “Our room?” Cindy grimaced.

  “Yes, our room.” John looked Cindy in the face. It was obvious his patience was wearing thin with her.

  “Yes, Dad,” Ashley replied.

  Cindy walked ahead of them and returned to their bedroom. Ashley brought along her pillow and blanket, and made a bed on the floor of her parents’ room.

  5

  _________________

  Two days later

  Monday morning… 8:20 a.m.

  Spiffily dressed for work and wearing photochromic sunglasses, John Morrison backed out of his driveway. He’d left Cindy upstairs having a bath and Ashley fast asleep. After reversing onto the road, he looked to his right at the Cullens’ house and noticed their screen door adjacent to the driveway was slightly ajar. Desiring to do what he knew his wife would not approve of, he glanced back at his own house, then without another thought, drove straight up onto the Cullens’ driveway. He left the car running as he quickly headed to the door.

  A whiff of fried eggs and bacon welcomed him as he approached the screen. Th
ough he couldn’t see clearly through it, he could hear light rummaging in the kitchen and decided to knock.

  “Who’s there?” He heard a female reply.

  “I’m John Morrison. Your neighbor across the street,” he said as quietly as he could, glancing back again at his house. He wondered for a moment if Cindy was right there watching him through their front window, but quickly dismissed the thought. There’s no way she would’ve finished her bath already. The perfectionist in her usually kept her in the bathtub for a rather long time.

  Sara opened the screen door wider. “Mister Morrison. Good morning! Please come in.”

  John stepped inside.

  “It’s a pleasure to meet you. I’m Sara Cullen.”

  They shook hands.

  Sara noticed John seemed a bit tense or in some sort of a rush.

  “I’m sorry I missed you the other day when you came over,” he said. “I wanted to apologize for my wife’s behavior. She’s a really nice person; just sometimes doesn’t know how to show it.”

  “Think nothing of it. I completely understand.” Sara smiled.

  “We have a seventeen-year-old daughter. Her name’s Ashley. I’m sure you’ll get to meet her really soon.”

  “That’s good to know.”

  Rosie emerged from her bedroom with little Max keenly at her side. The dog had been sleeping in her room ever since he’d become a part of the family after their first Cavapoo, Daniel, passed away.

  “Morning,” she said, not immediately recognizing the man standing near their kitchen door.

  “This is our new neighbor, Pumpkin. Mister Morrison,” Sara told her. She looked at him as Rosie approached. “This is my granddaughter, Rosie.”

  “It’s very nice to meet you, Rosie. I’m sure you and my daughter, Ashley, will hit it off,” John said. “Mrs. Cullen, it’s been a real pleasure meeting you and Rosie, but I have to go now. This is my first day on my new job.”