Chapter Ten - The Call
Belinda, still in her trance, walked around her house. She wore a velvety black dress covered in her parents’ blood, still fresh and wet. She stopped by a window and blindly watched outside. She felt as if she was waiting for something but didn’t know what.
Pin was in her arms, her eyes blacked out just like Belinda’s; her darkened frown was now a smile. The doll’s pale porcelain skin had black veins running from the top of her head down to her toes. Like thorned vines in midwinter.
The air felt thick, like melted iron filling Belinda’s lungs. Her whole childhood had been wiped out; memories of her starting kindergarten and the first time she discovered her thirst for blood were all gone. She had become a vessel of revenge and discord; her life had served its purpose.
To avenge Savannah, a woman she’s never truly met but someone embedded in her DNA.
It was all going back to when she was younger and discovered the old viscous blood in Pin’s necklace.
Without giving it much thought, she felt drawn to its malignant power, and like a firefly to a lamp, she had poured its contents into her mouth.
The whispers in the air were no longer part of a dream; they were real now. They were loud and they were fierce, like the waves of the ocean crashing into each other. She was the foam that carried the power of vengeance.
“Come to me, child,” the whispers grew louder and stronger. “Come to me.”
Belinda tried to follow the voices, but she was unsure of where they were coming from. From behind her, the front door of her house opened on its own. A weak squeak drew her attention. She listened. She followed.
After stepping out her front door, a sudden sadness threatened to fill her heart.
She looked back, trying to fight back the overwhelming power that had taken hold of her.
But it was stronger than she was; she turned forward and began to walk down the dark, narrow street.
The sky was darker than the silence between the stars, holding the secrets of what had long since turned into whispers.
She continued to follow the voices, like a worker bee returning to the beehive where the queen waited for her subordinates, the queen’s minions. Other noises alerted Belinda’s subconscious, trying to make out what else lurked in the dark night streets.
To her right, across the street, other kids like her walked in the same direction.
To her left, another group of teens moved similarly.
Lighting struck the cloudless sky, lighting up the street for a brief second.
In that moment of light, all the kids who had been called appeared to walk the same street quietly, some far behind her, others ahead, each following the same dark path.
Like Belinda, every one of those teens also held dolls. Some looked different from the others; Belinda could see the blood trails everyone left behind. She also noticed the broken-neck crow flying among the kids, emphasizing the sinister path. The whispers demanded she keep going on her path.
Once she got closer to the street, she could see the other kids gathering at the mansion’s gates.
It was now clear where she needed to go; the mansion’s darkness was so intense that it seemed to create light.
Like a beacon, a lighthouse calling out to its castaways.
As she drew nearer, the voices grew louder but fewer in number.
When she reached the gates, she realized that there was only one voice behind the whispers. Savannah’s.
“Come, gather, my children,” the voice called out. Belinda’s ears rang, but she paid no attention. The tall gates, covered in vines and weeds, screeched loudly as they opened. Rusted with old barriers that seemed to scream out the souls of the lost.
They were home at last.
Continue reading the Nightmares on Lull Lane shared world novellas with Don't Look Back by Raelynn Harper