Category: Horror Type: Fiction
Copyright: June 8, 2007
In the small town of Seminole, Oklahoma you'd never expect the horrific things that could happen there... or the truth behind many of the lands oldest families. Here you can read the Prologue and First Chapter.
This book is the first in what will become a series. Written by myself and my partner Amber Rendon. Please let us know what you think. Thank you for your time.
Excerpt
PROLOGUE
She'd waited almost too long. The thunder sounded like the sharp report of gunfire from the east and she flinched as though she could feel the shrapnel penetrate her skin. For hours now she'd been trying to sleep, but between the thunder in the distance and the shrill shrieks of laughter coming from her mother's room she was unable to find the peace she needed to help her drift off. Finally, she rose and began the laborious task of pushing her bed to the other side of the room just as the clouds burst open and the first few drops of rain began. Dropping back down on her bed she listened with bated breath, waiting for the water to start its slow drip upon the floor where her bed had just been. Maybe the sound would be the needed antidote to her insomnia.
Missy Jackson wasn't an ugly girl, though it seemed she tried too hard to hide the ugliness she felt inside as well as out. At the painful age of thirteen she'd began to dye her bright red hair, often in rainbow hues that could not be bought at the local beauty supply stores. Instead, she figured out that packs of 'Kool-Aid' worked just as well and were far cheaper at only ten cents apiece. Her current color of choice was 'wild cherry'. She had vibrant hazel eyes that seemed to look right through you; her mother often said her mouth was heart-shaped like Bernadette Peters which led Missy to believe she had a Kewpie Doll's face. In her opinion it wasn't that flattering a thought. Her father had left a long time ago and she lived in a half dilapidated, five room house just on the edge of town. She'd realized from the first day of high school at Old Neptune that she'd never be head cheerleader or homecoming queen.
The thunder came again and as if to punctuate the sound she heard her mothers witchy screech from across the hall. Groaning she tugged the pillow from beneath her head and brought it over her face, curling it around to cover both ears. She almost hoped she'd succeed in suffocating herself and end her teenage suffering once and for all. At the age of seventeen she'd already endured most of her high school years, and often times wished her mother had done the right thing when she'd been born. She felt she should have been put into a burlap sack, weighted down with cement bricks and tossed into the river like some unwanted puppy. After all, her mother was nothing more than a bitch in heat it seemed, dragging up every man she could find that would give her the time of day. This new one was no different, she'd met him in the Red Dog Saloon about three days ago, that meant his welcome was almost worn out and he'd soon decide he'd had enough, either that or her mother would grow bored with her new toy and move on to the next.
In pseudo silence she waited until she was at the point where air was almost completely depleted before she slowly brought the pillow up and turned her head to look over and up at the leak in her ceiling. She could see the incandescent illumination of each drop when the lightning flashed and had just enough time to watch its descent before it disappeared again into the darkness. It wasn't long before she felt hypnotized and her eyes grew heavy, it seemed there was no other sound at all, and then... he was there. Jerked from her reverie, she struggled to sit upright on the bed and twisted her entire body until she was Indian style upon the covers and waited for the next lightning strike to be sure she was not seeing things. It came, and as it did the one she saw lifted his head to gaze at her with amusement in his eyes and an impossibly leery grin upon his lips. She had not heard him enter, there was no way he could have gotten in without her door making a sound upon hinges that had not been oiled in far too many years to count.
Fear as thick as mud ran through her veins and her adrenaline kicked in as she stood quickly and began to fumble with a dresser drawer to find a flashlight. Once again her mother had failed to pay the electric bill on her meager earnings working at the Red Dog. About the time her hand closed upon the stem of her flashlight and her thumb found the button, she felt strong arms go around her and a warm breath upon her ear. "Shhh... don't make a sound now, I'm not here to hurt ya." Missy closed her eyes; the voice was like velvet and had a slight twang to it. She hadn't even seen his face good enough to know what he looked like, but she could tell that no one could own a voice like that and not have the looks to match. "Wh... who are you... what the hell do you want?" Her own voice shook as she spoke, but she had one arm pulled slightly forward and bent ready to land an elbow to his ribs if he said the wrong thing or made a wrong move. Though she may have been enjoying the feel of his arms embracing her a little too much she was not about to just give in and let him have his way with her if that's what he was after.
"I'm Jesse's brother... Juno." He paused and Missy shook her head feeling his lips rub against her temple. "Who the fuck is Jesse? I don't know a Jesse." Instantly she felt the release of his arms from around her and he was laughing as he backed a few paces away. "Damn that's sad; you don't even know the names of the men your mommy brings home to fuck." Anger rushed through her like a hot flame and she turned hurling the flashlight at the place she thought he may be standing. "Fuck you! Why the hell are you in my room? If you think I'm about to give you what my stupid cunt mother is giving your brother in there you're wrong! That's not me." Still shaking she lowered herself onto the edge of her bed but kept at the ready in case he came at her again. "Hell no... I was bored as hell sitting outside, then it started to rain I thought I'd come in and try and hurry him up. Looks like he's going to be at it all night though." There was a flare as he struck a match and lit a cigarette, then she heard footsteps and soon felt a weight pressing on the bed at her side. Glancing over about the time another streak lit the sky she saw his face and felt her stomach turn a flip. "Sorry, I just didn't hear you come in and..." Her words seemed to fall off into silence as she smelled the smoke from his cigarette and the craving hit her hard. "You got another one of those?"
Juno handed her the pack and his book of matches. "So what's up with the lights? I mean, I know there's a storm and all but I saw lights on in the house just a few feet away." Missy lit up and took a long drag from the Marlboro handing the pack back to him. "Yeah, my mom didn't pay the bill again." Juno shook his head and laughed. "So you must be Missy Sue... your mom mentioned you when we came in tonight." She was up and in motion then, pacing across her floor. "Don't call me that, only she calls me that and I fucking hate it." He held up his hands as though warding off her anger. "Sorry, sorry, what you wanna be called then?" Turning to face him she stared where she assumed his face to be. "Missy... just Missy." For a long moment there was an awkward silence that hung between them like some heavy blanket, then Juno spoke up again and she could have sworn she saw his eyes light up, the color a hot, coal, red. "I got the keys to Jesse's truck... wanna go for a ride?"
CHAPTER ONE
The small group gathered beneath a dark and angry sky, collectively bearing an umbrella of sorrow for the man that had touched them both individually and as a pack. They were a family of friends brought together by a destiny that had been their communal cross to bear since birth. The dawn had marched dutifully across the land, conveying a somber gift of drizzle for the lost and loved one. Somewhere along the horizon, the sun lazily climbed from bed and began its inevitable ascent. Bright and cheerful streaks of sunshine were subdued by a thick fog, which kindly screened the poignant party from those warm rays.
Presently no one said a word of the passing or of the obvious agony the deceased had suffered. His body had been mutilated. Muscles were shredded and bone snapped clean in half like twigs beneath the powerful bite of a mad dog. For this reason they all shared one very common and uneasy reflection. By the law of breeding, Ashler Morris was due his father’s position as pack alpha. Traditionally, a new alpha’s reign was marked with celebration and joy but no such festivities were employed today. There was only anger and suspicion, both flamed to dizzying heights by Ashler’s palpable absence among the pack. It was his duty to address them about his father’s death and advise them on the suddenly uncertain future.
From most, he was given no additional sympathy for his personal and profound loss, which was unique to him alone. From most, he was afforded only blame and debt, both increasing tenfold with each silent minute that passed without an appearance. A simple symphony was conducted by nature. Birds called and leaves were rustled underfoot. Silent prayers gave way to final good-byes before the fragile peace was broken. In the distance a noise echoed, both ominous and wretched as the wind elevated its tone. Ashler Morris howled long and hard. Whether out of grief or triumph, no one among the pack could be positively sure.
The sound ended abruptly and to it was tethered a mixture of sorrow and penance for what he'd done. He sat alone atop a hill shrouded with shrubbery, hidden except to those few whose keen eyes would cut through the brush to see him there. His maw still hung slightly open as he panted in an effort to cool his burning body. He could not bring himself to be among them, nor could he have told them the truth of how his father had come to his end. His lungs ached with each breath he took and his ribs still felt as though they were struggling to break through his skin. He had to rest, he was sure the marks would be there for a few days and he'd have to stay away until they healed where no evidence of the fight would be left for prying eyes to see. Only three turned to see him as the mournful sound ended, his aunt, uncle, and his sister.... Sera.
His gaze caught hers for a long moment, the eyes of the wolf mirroring those that were supremely human, before he turned away to break through the brush and find a place to lie down. Realization came with a sudden gust of winter wind and he snuffed the ground beginning to dig a hole for added warmth. He couldn't stay gone for long; in truth even a few days would be too much. He'd had a responsibility even before his father's death, and that responsibility was his younger sibling. Even though Sera had loved him, their father had become more and more enthralled with his secret life and less interested in raising his children. When Ashler had found out what he'd been doing with all his time, he'd seen no other way to save the pack but to finish it once and for all. Would they ever understand? None of them knew David Morris like his son did, there was not a single one that could see the truth behind those eyes that were adept at hiding his true thoughts.
The fact was David Morris had always been more concerned with making a fast buck than he had the welfare of the pack. For years now he'd had a profound gambling problem that had caused him to begin abusing drugs as well as alcohol. There were so many times that Ashler had to divert Sera's attention from their father, unwilling to allow her view of him to be marred by the truth. Ashler cared about the pack, and though he'd done things he was not proud of, even though he'd acted out time and again in his teenage years... he was grown now. Ashler Morris was a man at twenty three years of age. Still... there was a part of him that didn't think he was ready for this. He wasn't at all sure that he'd be able to lead; the only thing he knew for sure was that he'd done the only thing he could to ensure their safety.
He'd wait, at least until they'd buried him. It was the way of the Morris family to bury their own and no one in the small town of Seminole, Oklahoma begrudged them their wishes. It didn't really seem odd that they were so close, as many of the farming families in the area were much the same. For over thirty eight years now they had owned and farmed the land known as the Morris Ranch, they produced their own food as well as sold to markets to make a living. They bred horses and grew some of the best crops for miles around. It wasn't the running of the farm that Ashler was worried about as he'd been doing most of the work since he was old enough to drive a tractor.... it was taking over his father's place as alpha of the pack that bothered him most. Almost all of his family thought him too young and inexperienced to lead, and though he'd readily have given the opportunity over to his uncle, he knew the man wouldn't take it if for no other reason that respect for his brother. Ashler's worse fear was that they'd accuse him of murdering his father out of ambition. He finished digging his hole, paws now dirty with silt. Huffing loudly he settled in, the multiple hues of his coat melding in with the terrain, and closed his eyes.
WEIRD RHODY is a short story collection featuring five strange tales all set in Rhode Island and written by five Rhode Island authors. The anthology is a tribute to H.P. Lovecraft, the Ocean State's famed author of pulp horror.
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