The Unwanted (Black Water Tales Book 2) by Jean Nicole Rivers Page A
Authors: Jean Nicole Rivers
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frolicking in merriment. Up and down each side of the building she searched for children that were not there.
Blaire listened closely, and she could still hear the game, but it was not outside as she originally thought, it was inside, right here inside of her classroom. Blaire swung her pencil between her fingers nervously as she scanned the room allowing her ears to lead the way. They homed in on the vent in the floor along the wall. The soft singing of the children grew faint, but it was coming from inside of the vent, as she was sure of that. Blaire got down on her knees and peered into the blackness.
“Hello,” Blaire called into the vent. She jumped at the giddy laughter that responded, and suddenly there was a scattering sound, as if a group of people were discovered in a secret hiding place, who then ran for cover. A sound rose up through the opening and into her ears. It was the desperate, undecipherable whispers of hundreds of little voices all moving about, intertwining in and out of one another like snakes in mating. She put her ear closer, trying to make out the words.
There’s suffering in the pavement?
What were they saying? Blaire thought to herself .
Growing louder in each new moment, they all but peaked into a schizophrenic static that felt like it was inside of Blaire, choking up her ability to reason. She felt something moving closer to her and heard whispers that were not just senseless jabbering, but were providing, something tangible, a ladder for something terrible that was crawling toward her, up from the bowels of the building, through the dark vent on the backs of the wicked whispers. The evil was moving quickly up out of the darkness like electricity through a wire, and Blaire couldn’t tear herself away.
There’s suffering in the pavement. The jumbled whispers were closer now. There’s suffering in the pavement. Closer . There’s suffering in the pavement. Here it comes. THERE’S SOMETHING IN THE BASEMENT! It screamed and the words were clear now . JUMP! It belched.
Blaire was startled into movement by the growl that raged out of the vent and tried to eat her in one huge bite. She pushed herself back so harshly that the pencil slipped from her hand, and she watched in slow motion as it rolled and bounced down into the vent making a light plop, which told Blaire that it lay just beneath the grates.
“Hey,” Travis called popping his head into the room. “You okay?” he asked when he saw her on the floor.
“Yes, I’m fine. I just dropped my pencil in the vent, and I was trying to get it out,” Blaire explained nervously, and Travis’ expression of concern seemed to dissipate.
“…and I heard voices in the vent.” She sat up to get a better look at his reaction.
“Voices?” Travis eyed her strangely. “What kind of voices?”
“Of children, whispering and playing, and then someone yelled.” She felt confident that he would hear the voices too if he listened. Travis came over and got down on the floor with her, and they both pressed their ears to the vent, their faces less than a foot from one another, listening carefully.
Nothing.
“I heard something, I swear,” Blaire whispered.
Travis shrugged as he lifted himself from the floor. “You probably did. As a matter of fact, I think I heard voices from the vent in my office yesterday now that you mention it. These vents in these old buildings carry sound from room to room. The sound probably came from another room where the children were playing or talking.”
“Of course,”Blaire thought to herself, adding out loud, “Travis, you’re a genius.”
“I know. You ready to shop?”
“Sure, just let me get my pencil, resources are scarce around here.” Blaire said as she noticed that the corner of the vent was not screwed in completely.
“All right, I’ll meet you out front.” Travis disappeared into the hall.
Blaire lifted the corner of the grate and dug her small hand inside. It moved about in the
Blaire listened closely, and she could still hear the game, but it was not outside as she originally thought, it was inside, right here inside of her classroom. Blaire swung her pencil between her fingers nervously as she scanned the room allowing her ears to lead the way. They homed in on the vent in the floor along the wall. The soft singing of the children grew faint, but it was coming from inside of the vent, as she was sure of that. Blaire got down on her knees and peered into the blackness.
“Hello,” Blaire called into the vent. She jumped at the giddy laughter that responded, and suddenly there was a scattering sound, as if a group of people were discovered in a secret hiding place, who then ran for cover. A sound rose up through the opening and into her ears. It was the desperate, undecipherable whispers of hundreds of little voices all moving about, intertwining in and out of one another like snakes in mating. She put her ear closer, trying to make out the words.
There’s suffering in the pavement?
What were they saying? Blaire thought to herself .
Growing louder in each new moment, they all but peaked into a schizophrenic static that felt like it was inside of Blaire, choking up her ability to reason. She felt something moving closer to her and heard whispers that were not just senseless jabbering, but were providing, something tangible, a ladder for something terrible that was crawling toward her, up from the bowels of the building, through the dark vent on the backs of the wicked whispers. The evil was moving quickly up out of the darkness like electricity through a wire, and Blaire couldn’t tear herself away.
There’s suffering in the pavement. The jumbled whispers were closer now. There’s suffering in the pavement. Closer . There’s suffering in the pavement. Here it comes. THERE’S SOMETHING IN THE BASEMENT! It screamed and the words were clear now . JUMP! It belched.
Blaire was startled into movement by the growl that raged out of the vent and tried to eat her in one huge bite. She pushed herself back so harshly that the pencil slipped from her hand, and she watched in slow motion as it rolled and bounced down into the vent making a light plop, which told Blaire that it lay just beneath the grates.
“Hey,” Travis called popping his head into the room. “You okay?” he asked when he saw her on the floor.
“Yes, I’m fine. I just dropped my pencil in the vent, and I was trying to get it out,” Blaire explained nervously, and Travis’ expression of concern seemed to dissipate.
“…and I heard voices in the vent.” She sat up to get a better look at his reaction.
“Voices?” Travis eyed her strangely. “What kind of voices?”
“Of children, whispering and playing, and then someone yelled.” She felt confident that he would hear the voices too if he listened. Travis came over and got down on the floor with her, and they both pressed their ears to the vent, their faces less than a foot from one another, listening carefully.
Nothing.
“I heard something, I swear,” Blaire whispered.
Travis shrugged as he lifted himself from the floor. “You probably did. As a matter of fact, I think I heard voices from the vent in my office yesterday now that you mention it. These vents in these old buildings carry sound from room to room. The sound probably came from another room where the children were playing or talking.”
“Of course,”Blaire thought to herself, adding out loud, “Travis, you’re a genius.”
“I know. You ready to shop?”
“Sure, just let me get my pencil, resources are scarce around here.” Blaire said as she noticed that the corner of the vent was not screwed in completely.
“All right, I’ll meet you out front.” Travis disappeared into the hall.
Blaire lifted the corner of the grate and dug her small hand inside. It moved about in the
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