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Drowned Sorrow
Category:
Horror
Publisher: Llumina Press
ISBN-10: 160594162X
Type: Fiction
Pages: 188
ISBN-13: 9781605941622
Something odd is happening in Moonlight Creek. Why do the shops sell nothing but water? Why do the inhabitants commit eerie murders when it rains? Drowned Sorrow has been called the scariest story of the year, so be careful what you are getting yourself into.
"The female version of Stephen King" - Pedro Chaves, director of Reiki
"Vanessa Morgan has the gift of pacing and spookiness" - Scott Nicholson, author of They Hunger and The Farm
"Increasingly creepy atmosphere" - Monster Librarian
"A good, creepy story" - The Horror Fiction Review
"Drowned Sorrow is creepy. Possibly even crawly. I wouldn't want to sleep in the same room with it" - Self-Publishing Review
"The scariest story of the year" - Sword and Sorcery
"A startling new voice in horror" - Lucky McKee, director of May and The Woods
"An original twist to small-town ghost stories" - Target Audience Magazine
"A racy thriller in the vein of Dean Koontz and John Saul" - Dirk Vandereyken, author of Fates Worse Than Death: Hunter
"One of the creepiest novels ever" - Infonu
Megan Blackwood has just lost her son in a terrible accident. Now she has come to Moonlight Creek with her teenage daughter Jenna, hoping a change of scenery might help to put her life back together.
But something odd is going on in Moonlight Creek.
When rain falls over the village, its inhabitants commit eerie murders, leaving the village deserted with the first rays of sunshine.
Beneath the lake's surface, something watches... and waits... Waits to reveal a tragic past drowned in mystery and fear. One that doesn't bode well for visitors.
By the time Megan realizes that her daughter's life is in danger, it may be too late to escape.
Excerpt
The nausea started around five o'clock in the morning. It wasn't the kind of sickness he'd gotten so used to by now. Kenny had to cope with nausea almost every day since he'd gotten sick, but no matter how bad it was, he had never had the feeling that he was actually dying.
Kenny tried to get out of bed, but even before he had the chance to sit up, a wave of dizziness swept through his body and a dark blur descended over him.
Even looking for his pills on the bedside table was an act that had become to tiring for him. His hands were trembling at such a point that he couldn't get the pills out of their box. He had to lie down again in the middle of his activity, and he laid his head to rest on his pillow, his breath coming in ragged grasps. Exhaustion was spreading through him, draining away the last of his energy. He wasn't certain how many minutes or hours he had still to live.
He caught sight of himself in the mirror on the wardrobe in front of the bed. His complexion was ashen, and his hair, limp with sweat and matted down against his scalp, framed a face he could barely recognize. His eyes seemed to have sunk deep within their sockets, peering out suspiciously from beneath the ridges of his brow.
Earlier this morning, he had felt better, confident that his strenght and health would return to him real soon. But as the hours passed, he'd slowly begun to feel the weakness of the cancer creeping up on him once more and now the disease had come back even more violently than ever before. Now he knew for sure that there wasn't much time left.
Kenny Fisher would die.
Not in some vague, distant future, but probably somewhere in the hours to come. And the rage to beat his cancer was on him again. His fist clenched and he wanted to get back on his feet. He tried to walk towards the door of his hotel room with all the force he could muster. A few minutes later, he tapped at Eva's door. It seemed to take an eternity before she finally opened. From the look on her face, he could tell that she knew why he was there.
"I think it's time to make a few decisions," Kenny said. "I believe it's getting serious."
Eva opened the door for him and Kenny stumbled inside.
"I'm gonna die if I don't do something fast," Kenny said. A violent stab of nausea slashed through him again and he fell onto his hands and knees. He could hardly stand up anymore.
For a moment it seemed that Eva was going to change her mind, but then she nodded. As if in response to Eva's decision, the walls started to leak profusely - not just drops, but heavy rivulets, as if someone had turned on a faucet. And the water crept forward in only one direction and with only one aim in mind.
It crept towards Kenny, onto Kenny, creeping onto his legs, arms and torso as if he were invaded by millions of insects.
"You're going to be fine," Eva assured him. "Believe me, Kenny, you're going to feel better than you've ever felt before in your life."
"Kenny struggled against the water that started to creep into his mouth and into his nose, and for a second, he regretted his decision.
He tried to speak in order to stop the invasion, but the water filled his mouth, his throat, his lungs.
Luckily for him, his nightmare would not last long.
Kenny's struggles grew weaker. He was blacking out. Time began to stretch for him, and he thought he could feel his blood desperately trying to suck oxygen from his lungs. The last thing he felt was a blinding, searing agony as the water moved inside his body and then, finally, an explosion in his chest.
Even before the twitches of his dying body had stopped, every cell started to turn into water. When a few minutes later, his body had become completely liquid, the water crept back up into the walls of the hotel.
Kenny Fisher was part of Moonlight Creek now, part of its water.
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