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The Soul of Stones
The Soul of Stones
The Soul of Stones
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The Soul of Stones

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In a remote valley that was the site of the largest mass suicide in history, wealthy local playboy, Michel Gloster, invests the last of his inheritance making a B-movie horror flick that will capitalize on all the free publicity caused by the infamous tragic event. He's assembled a small film crew, even charmed two promising actors into slumming this film as a personal favor to him. It seems their venture can't go wrong. Yet as the first day on the set passes into night, Michel can't shake the feeling that they're not alone in the valley nor in the ancient house that resides there. Add in some magic mushrooms and he's fascinated and convinced there's something ineffable there — a mystery, an elusive emotion, a belonging...

Unfortunately, if you get too close to something bad, don't be surprised when it notices you back.

LanguageEnglish
PublisherCJ Sellers
Release dateOct 18, 2013
ISBN9781301538720
The Soul of Stones
Author

CJ Sellers

Cynthia Jean (C.J.) Sellers spent her early childhood in Toledo, Ohio, USA, a place like so many in The Rust Belt around the Great Lakes, that suffered disintegration of their vital core due to a dependency on manufacturing, first during the Great Depression and again after a production shift to China and the southeastern US.Her family--forced to choose between layoff and continued employment in a new area of the country--left behind the nucleus of several generations rooted in the Toledo area, to relocate to the wilderness of rural Virginia.This isolation from roots and family support, friends and community, combined with pressures from corporate culture, led her parents to a meltdown that ended in divorce. CJ later lost her closest family members to illnesses of the brain.Loss of identity/self, family, and place were the impetus for CJ's decision to lampoon the dynamics of society and family gone off the rails through means of the horror genre.That said, no family history plays out in her fiction, no characters literally resemble any persons living or deceased. Situations presented are metaphors for how life feels at times of great emotional disturbance and loss--normal life warps into the surreal.

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    The Soul of Stones - CJ Sellers

    The Soul of Stones

    By C.J. Sellers

    Copyright © 2013 C.J. Sellers

    ***

    Smashwords Edition, License Notes

    This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then please return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

    ***

    This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents are products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locations, organizations, or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

    ***

    Visit the official C.J. Sellers website at http://cynthiajsellers.com

    Table of Contents

    The Soul of Stones

    by C.J.Sellers

    1. Christened

    Map

    2. Ground Zero

    3. His Leading Lady

    4. The Man

    5. Subordinated

    6. Gossip

    7. Their Scream Queen

    8. The Supporting Cast

    9. Off-Script

    10. The Advent of Darker Times

    11. Baptism

    12. Food Shortage

    13. Secrets

    14. Reparations

    15. Epiphany

    16. Wheat vs. Chaff

    17. No One Will Leave

    18. Heaven, Inside

    Thanks for Reading

    About the Author

    Christened

    At Ffynnon Gwynnedd, North Carolina, USA on June 15th, 2017

    "O Oysters," said the Carpenter,

    "You've had a pleasant run!

    Shall we be trotting home again?'

    But answer came there none —

    And this was scarcely odd, because

    They'd eaten every one.

    ~Lewis Carroll, The Walrus and The Carpenter

    Hells Yes, yelled Marcus Poole-the-gaffer out the door to no one in particular. This place is awesome! Woo-hoo! Then to himself, Is it safe to film in here though?

    The abandoned house was otherwise empty, as the rest of the indie film crew of Demon Snog were still outside or were just arriving.

    The twins — Terry and Trudy were sorting and dropping off equipment at the side of the road in front of the house.

    Neils and his wife, Jessica were parking their shared Rec-V at the rented ranch at the western end of the valley. The ranch was about a mile and a half downslope.

    Javier and Stevo were scouting out the location, careful not to trample down the weeds — it all had to stay just like so.

    In here, in the relative darkness with Poole, a carving on wood wall trim — some sort of winged monster — captured his attention.

    One of the generators he was carrying slipped from his hand. The floor and rafters shook and Poole felt instant dread — the equipment was durable but the house? Not so sure. The ensuing shock to the flooring vaulted a noxious cloud of microscopic who-knows-what, crumbled plaster, and dusty rodent remains into the gloom around him.

    Fuck meee, Poole muttered, covering his mouth with the worn heavy metal t-shirt, exposing a slightly hairy but not tremendous beer-gut.

    That’s just great, Poole added. Not too confident about this floor. Then, remembering no one heard that, he yelled over his shoulder this time, I say we’re gonna have to reinforce this floor!

    Someone tall and thin peered in the door — a dark silhouette against the backdrop of hazy summer daylight.

    Hey Mick, Poole yelled over his shoulder again, distracted by a chunk of crumbling ceiling plaster now hanging from the ceiling by what looked very like a few long strands of human hair. Eew. What the fuck?

    Hey what, replied Michel, startling Poole.

    Holy shit, I about pissed myself, Poole chuckled. He was already unnerved just by standing six feet inside the infamous house even with the door open in broad daylight. Night filming was going to be interesting. Know if there’s a basement? I was sayin’ we might want to reinforce this floor before we bring too much in.

    No idea, Michel smiled that smile that charmed everyone but Poole. But you’re welcome to take a look.

    Poole merely stared at Michel blankly for a second too long on purpose, then mumbled something unintelligible and took the equipment back out to his parked van.

    Michel wasn’t an over-the-top smartass but sometimes couldn’t resist a little poke at what’s eating you and that bugged Poole, who called him Mick instead of Michel. They had a prickly relationship, in general.

    A strikingly attractive woman, Fi, Michel called her, avoided collision with Poole as he lurched off in a huff. Fiona snuggled up under Michel’s arm and peered inside. Her expression evinced both fascination and disgust. She didn’t comment on the rot and rodent smell; instead said cheerfully, I don’t think there’s a single window left unbroken in this house. The reason was obvious — rocks lay around on the abandoned antique furnishings.

    The walls and foundation are still in good shape, she added, but it looks like vandals pitched rocks at the roof and knocked off some shingles. Now it’s a full-blown hole in the roof.

    Saw it. That explains the fast weather decay of the ceiling. Not sure we should bother to fix that. Fast? How long ago was this place abandoned?

    Not long. The owners disappeared in 2013, Michel replied, But a real estate agent told me when I inquired back then, that a small trust was left to maintain it. When it dried up, it was repo’d by the bank a year later. That was two years ago, maybe? The serious inquiries had already stopped coming once the press moved from the horror story on so I got it cheap.

    Looks like the kids stayed outside at least, Fiona remarked. Look at those wall carvings, oh my gosh, they’re amazing. That’s gonna look great on film, she gushed. It’ll add a weird authenticity. I’m so excited! What a creepy location! She gave him a supportive squeeze around the waist.

    He gazed around the room at the weird asymmetry and strange carvings. I saw this place once as a kid but never got this close even then. The whole valley always gave me the creeps. I’ve been wanting to make a film here ever since. Seriously, I asked for a camcorder for my birthday. Started making home movies with some other kids. You knew I grew up around here, right?

    She smiled and shook her head again no. He knew she was holding back something but he ignored that look on her face. Experience told him that engaging it would likely segue into relationship drama. It never devolved into argument between them but he had an aversion to talking about relationships in the abstract. So he changed the subject.

    Michel was never shy about stepping up to a podium. He might have made a decent teacher if there had been one subject in particular that fascinated him. He could never settle on just one that he favored enough to build a career around it. Fortunately, his dilettantish knowledge-base combined with charm and good looks made him an entertaining orator and that assisted him in any entrepreneurial endeavor.

    This place was already notorious among the locals, he said, leading Fiona away from her darkening mood. It was more famous for its urban legends here than it is from the videos and news. A lot of people moved away after the catastrophe but the ones that stayed won’t set foot in this valley now. Just kids get up to that sort of thing. The horror stories have probably gotten so big, it all defies belief for the kids. I’m surprised they didn’t come in the house though. I mean, stupid is stupid but there’s all kinds and reasons. Seems like one of them would trespass on a dare and leave his mark with spraypaint or a broken mirror or something. It’s been several years and it doesn’t look like anyone’s even stepped a foot in here before us. But anyway, we really lucked out, didn’t we? The way it’s stayed just as it was the day the owners walked away... Except for the weather damage and rodents, it’s like a time capsule. Look at all this weird old stuff and did you get a close look at the carvings on the walls?

    Fiona broke away and went in. She walked gracefully across the living room and the floor seemed fine under her weight. Peering closely at some wood carvings, Oh my gosh, she said in a whisper.

    Michel sneaked up on her from the left so that he cast no tell-tale shadow and spooked her loudly, Boo! Then ran his hands under her blouse. She glanced out the door at the people congregating near and slapped his hands away. Michel laughed and turned back toward the walls.

    It’s monsters and shit, he said, still channeling his inner adolescent. Whoever did all this was insane. That’s so cool.

    I’m guessing the floor is probably not water-damaged since it’s only been neglected a few years, it’s probably dry-rot or termites, worsened by sudden exposure to moisture, remarked Fiona.

    Michel smiled appreciatively but

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