Chapter 17
It wasn’t my night, thankfully. I wasn’t ready to face Jacob after what I’d done to him with my panic.
After praying on my knees for what felt like hours for forgiveness and a revelatory sign from the Lord of what to do, I climbed into the bed and tucked the covers tight around me.
It seemed He held no answers to the mysteries in this house either.
Silence. All I desired now was silence. Silence from others and from my own mind that hummed without end imagining terrors and accidents, and a never-ending litany of sins that weighed me down. I closed my eyes, desperate for sleep.
At once, the room warmed, the air cocooning around me. I sank in my bed, now gently rocking as if lulling me to sleep. My breathing slowed.
From the top of the stairs, I stared down at the entry glowing golden in the fading sunlight. An unknown odor hit my nostrils, sickening my stomach. This world wasn’t as it should’ve been.
An invisible tug drew me down the staircase. A curious sensation pierced through me—there was something here I needed to find.
I reached the bottom step. The stench of wrongness grew stronger.
On the floor below, splotches of color covered the floorboards as if a clumsy person had dropped paint across it.
I squatted to get a closer look. Each blemish was dark crimson.
I skimmed my fingers across the top of the red stains and my hands drew back sticky and wet.
A rusted tang hit my tongue and I gagged.
Blood.
It dripped down my fingers and across my palm, sizzling with heat as it spread. This blood was fresh.
Leaning over, I heaved but nothing came up. Droplets of blood slid down my arm in streaks.
What had happened here?
A trail of red gore smeared across the entry and disappeared through the doorway. Fear pulsed through my veins. Coming face-to-face with whatever caused this horror scene wouldn’t be wise. But my body moved as if pulled by strings and I shakingly got to my feet.
I followed the scarlet path, my feet sliding more than stepping. I rubbed my hands together trying to clear the blood, but the evidence of this nightmare stayed put. The blood on the floor streaked through the parlor and snaked into the dining room.
The door to Jacob’s study was propped open. Crimson ran in a stream across the threshold.
It took a moment for my eyes to adjust to the darkness, and a moment longer to realize what I saw. I froze.
A pair of boots slick with blood protruded from the doorway.
I screamed, but the sound died in my throat. Panic rose. Invisible hands shoved me forward.
This couldn’t be what I thought it was.
“Help!” I mouthed, my throat not emitting a sound. Dropping to my knees, I fell over the body to examine them for injury, perhaps to aid them. I gasped.
Abby.
Her green eyes stared up at me, wide and glassy. Fiery curls surrounded her head but did little to mask the blood oozing from the back of it. I reached out but stopped short of touching her. What had happened to her? How had she gotten to this room?
I needed to help her, but I also knew it was too late.
Abby was dead.
Blood pooled where I sat, the hem and knees of my nightgown soaking up the liquid, staining the crisp white red.
I scrambled back from the body, but the blood spread wider. The fabric of my nightgown clung to my legs, heavy with the gore. I pressed my back against the wall, but I couldn’t escape. Blood filled the study, lapping at the legs of the broad desk.
I prayed to disappear on the spot. To wake up from this nightmare. The red sea covered my feet now, inching its way up my ankles. What if I drowned in it before I woke up? My hands searched desperately for the doorframe but found no purchase.
Above me, the bookshelf quivered and a book dropped to the floor.
The chaos stilled. Curiosity overtook me and I bent to retrieve the book. Miraculously, the blood dripped off the cover leaving no stain as I lifted it. It was a black book of scripture. It slid from my hands and sank back into the muck, now up to my knees.
I looked down at Abby, her body almost entirely consumed by the rising tide. She leered up through a final patch in the bloodbath like she saw me. My stomach heaved again. My sister wife was dead.
And it didn’t appear the cause was natural.
A hand grabbed me from behind and shook me.
“Hazel, wake up!”
I screamed as I spun around. Jacob stood in front of me, his face barely visible in the low light of the lamp in his hand. The rest of the room was bathed in darkness.
I held up my hands to my face. No blood.
“What happened—”
“You were sleepwalking, Hazel,” Jacob said. “You were screaming.”
“Dreaming, I was dreaming.”
I looked behind him to find an empty floor. There was no sign of Abby or her death, no mark left behind by a sea of gore or trail of crimson, only the same peculiar study I’d seen weeks ago.
“Why were you in my study?” Jacob leaned in closer until his face was only inches from mine, his tone irritated.
“I don’t know.”
“Since this is my room, I can only imagine you were looking for me. Though there’s no need to scream if you want me so badly.”
He chuckled, slithering his hand to my waist. But, as before, my body didn’t warm to his touch.
“I didn’t know where I was.”
“Will you tell me what you saw?”
Jacob’s face shifted in the shadows. Despite the natural urge to obey, I couldn’t form the words on my tongue. I couldn’t tell him.
“It was nothing,” I said, tugging out of his grip. “It was only a silly dream. I hardly remember it.”
Though he held on to his smile, something I’d never seen before smoldered in his eyes.
Jacob studied me as I wobbled back against the wall, searching for my footing. I became too conscious of the loud tick of the clock on the shelf.
“Sometimes the Lord speaks to us in dreams,” said Jacob.
My uneven breath caught in my throat. Could this have been some kind of prophetic vision? Was I being warned of blood to come?
“No, I’m sure it was nothing,” I insisted, though I didn’t believe my own words. That nightmare was most certainly something. Something important. “I’m sorry for waking you,” I added.
“I wasn’t sleeping. Abby …” He trailed off.
Heat spiked up my spine at her name.
Jacob’s voice hinted with an invitation. “I was coming down to read my scriptures when I heard you.”
But I didn’t want to think about Abby or scriptures, or anything else. I slipped toward the door.
“I apologize for interrupting you, but thank you for waking me. I’ll go up to bed now.”
Jacob caught my hand once more.
“I’ll walk you.” His voice was breathy and low.
“Oh no, I’m fine. Fully awake now.”
I edged into the doorway, but he didn’t drop my hand. An invisible current rushed between us. Let go, let go, let go, I begged silently.
“Very well, Hazel. Good night.” With a tug, he drew me against him and pressed his lips to mine. He tasted of salty sweat and forbidden drink.
“Good night,” I said when he broke away.
I stumbled back out the door and broke into a run, not stopping until I threw the lock closed on my own door and slid to the floor.
I didn’t understand what that nightmare meant to tell me. Perhaps it was better I never found out.