In Memoriam

By Brent Abell

Andi Winters never had an easy life; each moment of her existence has been an exercise in heartache and pain.

When a night of passion results in pregnancy, Andi must make the hardest decision she's ever had to make. What she doesn’t realize is the consequences of her decision could prove dire for the town of White Creek.

Strange visions plague her, making it hard for her to concentrate and heal. What she doesn’t know, what she couldn’t have known is that something evil had escaped the town's cursed ground and it’s hungry...

“Brent Abell shows a deft hand at crafting verbiage that locks the reader in while increasing their heart rate and is quite comfortable creeping people out with a smaller word count, as In Memoriam so effortlessly portrays.”
-Jason Darrick, co-author of The Carnival 13

• Language: English
• Publisher: Brent Thomas Abell
• Release date: Mar 20, 2014
• ISBN: 9781310493935

Brent Abell

Brent Abell resides in Southern Indiana with his wife, sons, and a pug who is a descendant of the Elder Gods. He has been published in multiple anthologies and eZines, took part in the collaborative novella, The Carnival 13, and has completed his first full novel. He is currently working on his next novel and novella. You can hang out with him for some rum, a cigar, and all the latest news at http://brentabell.wordpress.com.

Book preview

In Memoriam

Brent Abell

SAD House Press

In Memoriam

Copyright © 2012 Brent Abell

SAD House Press

Smashwords Edition

Second Edition

All rights reserved

Edited by SAD House Press

Cover Design © SAD House Press

All characters and events appearing in this work are fictitious. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

License Notes

This eBook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This eBook may not be resold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for the recipient. Thank you for respecting the hard work of these authors.

Acknowledgements

First and most importantly, I want to thank my wife, sons, and our pug. I can never repay you guys for those nights I locked myself away behind my computer to finish this tale and every other story that has come out of my brain over the last three years.

A huge shout out is also due to all the publishers I’ve worked with and all the authors I’ve drank with, become friends with, and received advice from. Armand Rosamilia, thanks for giving the book its first break and I’ll always be grateful for your friendship during the process and beyond. I also have to thank Julianne Snow for helping with this version. Her help and support has been invaluable, and I also am glad to have become her friend during this and our other projects together.

Special thanks to my parents for letting me have the freedom to read what I wanted when I was a kid and for letting me stay up to watch Tales From the Crypt, Amazing Stories, and Tales From the Dark Side. Those shows helped me get through some rough patches and gave me the dark mindset to follow my dream to become an author.

Lastly, I want to thank you, the readers out there. Here we are on our journey together and I hope we can take this ride together for a long time. Thank you for putting enough faith in me to give this book a try and I hope you enjoy it.

—Brent

In Memoriam

Acknowlegements

Foreword

Prologue

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Epilogue

About the Author

Foreword

What you hold in your hands, either on paper or on your electronic book reader thingy, is my last say on In Memoriam. The journey of the book has been well documented—how it grew from short story, to novella, to this definitive edition has always been a fun ride.

Why revisit the book again?

Simple, I found I still had a few more things to say with the story.

At the moment, I’m working on a novel-length piece where White Creek finally takes center stage. I’ve been laying some groundwork for the town in a few stories in the past few months and I needed to go back and make a few adjustments in the text here. There is nothing really major added. I wrote Kim Koning’s death scene (her name was drawn for that honor during the Coffin Hop Blog Tour 2013), added a short piece about the disgraced Father Dunhill and the power he commands, and there is a new part of the epilogue where Father Maxwell Channing has to deal with the fallout caused by Andi Winters.

Overall, the book hasn’t changed, but the new bits will pay off later… trust me!

Now you can relax, grab a drink, and take a journey to White Creek where the secrets once thought buried and forgotten are beginning to find their way back to the surface…

Prologue

Ashley Smith heard the crashes in the kitchen below her and realized time had run out. Curled up beside the bed, she tightened her arms and pulled her knees up to her chest. One hand reached down and slipped into her denim pocket. Trembling, she pulled out a tattered picture and ran her fingertips lovingly over it. Ashley’s lips moved in silent prayer, hoping an answer would find her before it did.

The atmosphere in the house changed. The air grew denser and Ashley struggled to breathe. Downstairs, the windows rattled and the house quaked like it was caught up in the middle of a tornado. Two years of running, two years of staying one step ahead of it. She stared longingly at the faded picture again, the act bringing back brief twinges of guilt and grief for everything she held dear.

The thing had taken everything from her and still it wanted more, but she knew it would hound her until its calling was fulfilled. She watched friends and family die. She’d lived in constant fear, afraid of the shadows and the nights alone on the road. Ashley kept moving because she knew if she stopped, it would come and when it did she would pay her price. Ashley now knew she’d overstayed her welcome here. The loving old couple who took her in was torn apart, laying in crimson pools in the hallway downstairs, her curse claiming more innocent lives.

The rumbling beneath her ceased and the house grew still again.

Oh God, please make it go away, she pleaded in a hushed voice.

The lights flickered and the air particles felt charged like before a storm. Lifting her head, Ashley gazed at the ceiling light. The bulb’s light pulsated with energy, growing dark and then bright again. Something thumped on the stairway. The light brightened like the sun and then exploded with a pop that showered her in glass. Screaming, she jumped to her feet and ran to the door.

The crashing on the stairs sped to the top and slammed the door. Something outside pounded on the wood and she threw all she had at the door to hold it shut. The door bucked and the frame vibrated from the onslaught. Something slammed against the wood again—the frame splintered.

Still she held on.

Ashley took a deep breath and exhaled. It formed a mist in the dropping temperature. Shivering, she braced herself against the door harder. Gooseflesh ran up her arms and the frigid air in the room made the beads of sweat on her head freeze, the drops stopping in mid-air before shattering when they crashed onto the floor.

She could sense the hate and rage aimed at her and it was only separated by a piece of wood. Slowly, she stood up and grabbed the doorknob. Twisting it, she threw the door open and raised her hands in the air knowing her time was about to expire.

It paused at the sight of her welcoming it. Roaring, it rushed into the room and wrapped her up in its clutches. The tendrils dug into her flesh and her nerve endings tingled and throbbed. Looking at her arm, the color of her skin faded. She opened her mouth to scream, but the void surrounding her silenced her cries and ate the exquisite sound of her pain. The black mist consumed her and Ashley’s world went dark in its embrace. At first she was thankful she’d found peace, until she saw the truth revealed as the thing devoured her.

1

The silence in the cab broke as the radio crackled with news of the Vineyard Church’s protests outside