A Strange There After by Missy Fleming

was
with the possibility of embarrassing Jason in front of his peers.
Their acceptance of me, a simple southern girl, mattered. Did those
feelings live residually in Catherine? Hard to imagine narcissistic
Catherine stressing out about being accepted, but she already
freaked out about the reporters.
    “One of her biggest obsessions has always
been fitting in. As much as she fought her marriage to Jennings, I
heard stories of the parties they threw, I’m assuming before he
started beating her. Acquaintances told me about how she adapted,
taking on this new persona, all to be accepted with her husband’s
business associates. Trust me, she is thinking the exact same thing
now. In order to fit into this modern world, she will latch onto
Jason and what he can offer her. It’s her way of surviving.”
    My fists clenched in response. I hated the
idea of anyone using Jason for their own personal gain. This woman
really had no redeeming qualities. Then I remembered how Jackson
talked about her, the trace of respect in his voice.
    “I can’t picture someone as good as you
loving a woman as narcissistic as her,” I chided.
    “I cling to my memories because they are all
I have.”
    An awkward pause settled between us, and I
realized the day had faded. Dusk crept across the city, and with it
came a familiar sensation. She was here, the female entity. Sure
enough, a black shadow materialized from the far corner where it
had before and swooshed toward us, aiming directly at me. In the
writhing darkness of the mass, I caught quick glimpses of the
hideous face. The woman’s twisted features were contorted in what I
could have sworn was laughter. Fear rooted me in place, the sense
of dread and hopelessness threatening to eat me alive from the
inside.
    At the last second, I heard Jackson shout,
yanking me out of the way. From the corner of my eye, I saw the
shadow swerve and burrow itself into the tree. I made to turn and
run, but a deep, guttural groan emitted from the majestic oak.
Then, the thick trunk moved, the branches flexing and stretching,
creaking as if waking up from a long slumber.
    “Oh my God,” Jackson murmured.
    My brain, sluggish with shock from the
mind-blowing image in front of me, wasted a few seconds to register
what was happening. She possessed the tree. The thought barely
formed before I felt Jackson tugging on me, trying to get us to
safety.
    But we didn’t move fast enough.
     

 
    Chapter
Twelve
     
    A branch swung down, capturing me around the
waist in a hard, unforgiving grip. It shouldn’t be able to do that.
I wasn’t real! The simple fact didn’t seem to matter as it swept me
off my feet and into the air. The rough bark cut into my skin, and
I gave up trying to figure out how it was possible. All around me,
the leaves rustled, and the wood creaked. A muffled laugh joined
in, the sinister chuckle echoing through my head.
    I was lifted high into the upper branches,
any view of the ground obscured, then whipped about and slammed
into the hard trunk. It stunned me, rattling my bones and jarring
my spine. Another branch came at me, slinking around my ankles.
More leaves shot forward, slapping me across the face. My skin
split open, producing a dribble of warm liquid that meant I was
bleeding. Amazed, I touched the wound. Sure enough, my fingers came
away sticky and red.
    Try all you want. You will never leave dis
place.
    The feminine voice slithered through my
conscious, filling me with frigid cold. My bindings tightened, and
I cried out in pain. Every single part of me hurt and, amidst all
the agony, I realized it was the most sensation I felt since
becoming a ghost. Here, being squeezed by a vindictive tree, I was
more alive than I had been in days—apart from being in my body last
night. All part of this nasty woman’s plan, I bet.
    Something hard and unyielding snaked around
my chest, then again, encircling my neck. Panic hit me full force
as my air supply cut off. Even that shouldn’t have