the phone call making her imagine things, she knew, but that smile did not look human.
The Thorton home was a cookie cutter box nestled into street after street of other cookie cutter boxes. No dilapidated house loomed upon a scary hill. The neighborhood could not have been more than ten years old. Yet Martha felt an ancient darkness here. Something beyond time and human understanding.
"You ready? You look out of it." Jeff slammed the van door.
"We won't need the gear," Martha said, still staring at the quaint little house in the quaint little neighborhood that held unimaginable evil. "You should go. I'll take a cab back."
Jeff rattled with something and huffed. "If you think it's something that bad there's no way I'm going. Evidence. We need it."
He walked to her side and placed a hand on her shoulder. She clutched it. She did not want to do this by herself but she also did not want to put anyone into unnecessary danger. "I can't convince you to go?"
"Not a chance," Jeff said.
"Thank you." They walked together to the house and whatever abomination dwelled there.
Jeff pressed the doorbell and movement erupted behind the windows. Dark eyes stared out at them, black as coal. Jeff jumped back and knocked into Martha sending her back into the porch railing. She rebounded forward and fell to her knees. Pain shot from her kidneys throughout the rest of her body in pulses.
There came laughter from the other side of the door, dark and choppy, and eerily similar to a dog coughing.
Martha's stomach plummeted. "Jeff. Go."
"Shit! I am so sorry." He rushed to Martha's side and offered a hand. "Are you okay?"
She waved him away. "It's worse than I thought. This is incredibly dangerous. The laughter. You need to go. Now."
Jeff looked around at the seemingly innocuous surroundings. "If it's really that bad you're coming with me."
Martha pushed herself to her feet. "She needs my help."
"Then I'm helping too."
For the second time today Martha was thankful she hired a stubborn ass for an assistant. She rooted in her pockets and withdrew a black stone, polished to patent leather sheen. "It's volcanic," she said, testing the weight of it in her hand. "Pompeii."
Jeff cocked his eyebrows. "Mount Vesuvius?"
Martha nodded and handed the stone to Jeff. "Funny enough, the thing's a good luck charm. You hang onto it for me, will you?"
"Sure but-"
Martha held up her hand. "Are you ready?"
Jeff shoved the stone in his pocket then nodded.
"Once more into the breech," Martha said.
The door opened at their approach.
Despite the heat of the day the inside of the Thorton home was cold, dark, and damp. It was as if the whole house had been pulled up from the Earth and settled here inconspicuous amongst the endless streets of unsuspecting homes that held their unsuspecting residents.
"Angie?" Martha padded to the stairs and placed a trembling hand on the banister. "Miss Thorton?" Martha could sense Jeff's nervous but excited energy behind her and the brooding hatred that grew the closer Jeff got to the stairs. "You need to stay down here."
"You know that isn't going to happen."
Jeff stood close enough that Martha could feel his breath on her neck, damp, hot, and hurried. She mustered courage. As much for herself as for her partner, and stepped onto the first step. "Angie Thorton?"
"I apologize. I'm not feeling very well today." Angie's voice was faint and raspy, like it had to crawl and scrape to make it out of her throat. "I am afraid you'll need to come up here. I can't make it down."
Martha did not want to find out what trap the monster had laid for her up there. "If you can make it to the stairs at least, Jeff and I can help you down. We really need you here Angie."
"I am afraid that is not possible. Maybe you can help me out of bed." The voice came louder this time. No longer so feeble. There was a mocking undertone.
"We can't do that. Angie, if you can hear me, we're going to get you out of this." Whatever was in her was
The Thorton home was a cookie cutter box nestled into street after street of other cookie cutter boxes. No dilapidated house loomed upon a scary hill. The neighborhood could not have been more than ten years old. Yet Martha felt an ancient darkness here. Something beyond time and human understanding.
"You ready? You look out of it." Jeff slammed the van door.
"We won't need the gear," Martha said, still staring at the quaint little house in the quaint little neighborhood that held unimaginable evil. "You should go. I'll take a cab back."
Jeff rattled with something and huffed. "If you think it's something that bad there's no way I'm going. Evidence. We need it."
He walked to her side and placed a hand on her shoulder. She clutched it. She did not want to do this by herself but she also did not want to put anyone into unnecessary danger. "I can't convince you to go?"
"Not a chance," Jeff said.
"Thank you." They walked together to the house and whatever abomination dwelled there.
Jeff pressed the doorbell and movement erupted behind the windows. Dark eyes stared out at them, black as coal. Jeff jumped back and knocked into Martha sending her back into the porch railing. She rebounded forward and fell to her knees. Pain shot from her kidneys throughout the rest of her body in pulses.
There came laughter from the other side of the door, dark and choppy, and eerily similar to a dog coughing.
Martha's stomach plummeted. "Jeff. Go."
"Shit! I am so sorry." He rushed to Martha's side and offered a hand. "Are you okay?"
She waved him away. "It's worse than I thought. This is incredibly dangerous. The laughter. You need to go. Now."
Jeff looked around at the seemingly innocuous surroundings. "If it's really that bad you're coming with me."
Martha pushed herself to her feet. "She needs my help."
"Then I'm helping too."
For the second time today Martha was thankful she hired a stubborn ass for an assistant. She rooted in her pockets and withdrew a black stone, polished to patent leather sheen. "It's volcanic," she said, testing the weight of it in her hand. "Pompeii."
Jeff cocked his eyebrows. "Mount Vesuvius?"
Martha nodded and handed the stone to Jeff. "Funny enough, the thing's a good luck charm. You hang onto it for me, will you?"
"Sure but-"
Martha held up her hand. "Are you ready?"
Jeff shoved the stone in his pocket then nodded.
"Once more into the breech," Martha said.
The door opened at their approach.
Despite the heat of the day the inside of the Thorton home was cold, dark, and damp. It was as if the whole house had been pulled up from the Earth and settled here inconspicuous amongst the endless streets of unsuspecting homes that held their unsuspecting residents.
"Angie?" Martha padded to the stairs and placed a trembling hand on the banister. "Miss Thorton?" Martha could sense Jeff's nervous but excited energy behind her and the brooding hatred that grew the closer Jeff got to the stairs. "You need to stay down here."
"You know that isn't going to happen."
Jeff stood close enough that Martha could feel his breath on her neck, damp, hot, and hurried. She mustered courage. As much for herself as for her partner, and stepped onto the first step. "Angie Thorton?"
"I apologize. I'm not feeling very well today." Angie's voice was faint and raspy, like it had to crawl and scrape to make it out of her throat. "I am afraid you'll need to come up here. I can't make it down."
Martha did not want to find out what trap the monster had laid for her up there. "If you can make it to the stairs at least, Jeff and I can help you down. We really need you here Angie."
"I am afraid that is not possible. Maybe you can help me out of bed." The voice came louder this time. No longer so feeble. There was a mocking undertone.
"We can't do that. Angie, if you can hear me, we're going to get you out of this." Whatever was in her was
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