Read Hurt: A Novel (Solitary Tales Series) Online
Authors: Travis Thrasher
Tags: #Spiritual Warfare, #Suspense, #High school, #supernatural, #Solitary Tales
Contents
37. The Terrible Beauty of Being a Teen
51. Hundred-Year-Old Grandmother
64. What Comes Around Goes Around
70. The Memories You Try to Bury
88. The Wheel Goes Round and Round
89. What Is Imagined and What Is Real
90. Question Marks or Bite Marks?
91. A Night of Romance and Mystery
96. Something Else for the Scrapbook
100. Sæglópur (Do You Understand?)
102. The Most Beautiful Song on Your Playlist
110. Something I Should’ve Done
119. The Pretty Picture in Front of You
For Timothy
Reach out and touch faith.
—“Personal Jesus”
by Depeche Mode
Preface
That’s no ordinary dog.
It looks more like a sickly and bloated leopard. It doesn’t quite have thick fur but does have something shaggy hanging off it, like dried leaves or clumps of mud. It’s snarling and growling.
That’s the same dog that attacked me on the Staunch property that one time.
I stop, unsure what to do. Keep walking and just ignore it? Put Kelsey down and try to fight it with … with a Zippo lighter? I’m all out of supernatural stuff in my pockets.
Why couldn’t I have found a magical dagger or something?
There’s a howling from behind me that sounds like a dying wolf.
No. No, don’t let there be more.
The demon dog starts walking toward me. Its open mouth is dripping gray spit. Its eyes are glowing, a disturbing kind of glow, not a majestic kind. I smell a rotten odor.
I back up. One step. Two.
I have to get to those woods.
The dog is coming faster, and I know I have only seconds.
Suddenly I hear the wild wolf sound again, but this time it’s ahead of me.
Then I see something coming out of the woods, rushing toward the demon dog.
It’s a wolf.
No, it’s not a wolf. It’s
the
wolf, the one I’ve seen before. The gray wolf that I saw at the creek and also near the barn after Jocelyn died.
I hear its teeth ripping something apart and then hear the high-pitched wailing of the dog. It’s awful and makes me close my eyes.
Another wolf comes out of the woods and attacks from the other side. And I realize—not all animals around here are possessed or evil.
Especially not these wolves.
I hear gnawing and biting and growling and wailing, and then it seems like the air around us gets sucked in and the lights go out for the moment and I feel a chilling breeze
death
blow past Kelsey and me and then it’s done.
The dog and the smell are gone.
The wolves are sniffing the ground where it was standing and seem as puzzled as I am about the disappearance.
They turn and face me, and I look at them. I want to say thanks or toss them a hamburger or something. I’m not sure what to do.
The gray wolf bolts into the trees and is followed by the darker one. The path ahead is empty now. Empty and safe.
I just hope that it’s not too late for Kelsey.
1. Joyful and Lovely
The first thing I see when I unlock the front door to the cabin and turn on the light is Lily.
I freeze and clutch Midnight a bit too tight.
Lily is dead. I saw her die with my own eyes. I can still close them and picture her body in the woods after the car she was driving took a sharp turn over a mountainside and ejected her. I still feel fortunate I was wearing a seat belt, but when I think of Lily, that word doesn’t come to mind.
Regret is more like it.
I shut my eyes as I hear Mr. Page’s truck backing out of the driveway and heading back home. I know I’m just seeing things. It’s just the stress of having flown back from Chicago with Kelsey and somehow managing to keep the truth from both her and my father. It’s knowing they’ve taken Mom, of knowing she’s not here, of knowing that I’ll open my eyes and Lily won’t be anywhere—
The golden-haired goddess gives me a flirty smile as she stands.
No.
This is not happening. Not now.
It’s too soon.
I just got back to Solitary. We need a little warm-up, folks.
We can’t get the dead girl waving in the opening scene, can we?
“Welcome home, Chris.”
Something about the way she says my name isn’t quite right.
I stop breathing.
Midnight jumps out of my hands and scampers into my mom’s bedroom. She’s probably going under the bed.
I wonder if she can see what I’m seeing.
Lily flips her long curly hair over her shoulder and grins. “I won’t bite. At least not today.”
I have a weird case of déjà vu as I swallow and then shut the door, knowing this is one of those things. I’m still not sure what to call them. Episodes. Visions. Occurrences.
Somehow I’m the chosen one to see faces of the dead like this.
I’ve already been seeing weird things since leaving Chicago. Perhaps these are all signs that tell me I should’ve stayed there. But I had no choice. I had to come back or Mom would be hurt. Or worse.
“Do you want to play a game, Chris?”
There it is again. The thing with the name.
Did she say Chris or Chrissssssss?
I start to back up.
“You still want me, don’t you, my dear little boy?”
She starts to laugh in a weird way I don’t remember ever hearing.
This is just a dream just a bad spooky thing to start my stay back in Scary I mean Solitary, North Carolina.
As she smiles, I see her face suddenly become hard, as if the makeup has dried up and is starting to crack and flake and fall off.
“It’s time to see behind the mask, Chrissie-pooo,” Lily says.
But of course it’s not Lily and I know this and I’m about to open the front door when the lights go off.
I expect a cold, dead hand to touch me, grab me. But instead I hear the shuffling of footsteps upstairs.
My body is shivering. I can’t tell if it’s from the cold January night or from this cold greeting inside.
Suddenly my stereo is blasting upstairs. No, strike that. Uncle Robert’s stereo is blasting. I recognize the song but can’t really think of the title or the group because I’m about to pass out.
I’ve got to get out of here but I know this is just a dream or a vision and it can’t hurt me. Right?
The droning singer upstairs calls out, and I know this is a message. Perhaps this is something I need to know for the battle ahead. Or for the ongoing war.
The song grows louder with each step I take. The light is on, and I know it wasn’t on when I first stepped into the cabin. When I reach the bedroom, I don’t see Lily or the Lily-thing anywhere. I just see the familiar record player turning and a record sleeve on the bed.
I pick it up and see the image of a stone angel lying on her back with one arm outstretched and her other hand covering her face. Above the image is the song title.
“Love Will Tear Us Apart.”
I know the Joy Division song. There’s nothing joyful or lovely about it or the image.
So I wonder why the ghost of Lily wanted to share this joyous song with me as I scan the room and see the outline underneath the blanket on my bed.
Just get out of here do what Midnight did and scramble for the closest dark corner and hide do it Chris come on!
But as the song continues on, I move toward the head of my narrow bed and then pull back the comforter, squinting because I’m unsure what I’ll see.
I jerk back, and the blanket pulls back with me.
The lifeless figure on the bed is not … it’s not human.
For a minute I just stare, wondering if it’s going to move. I’m shaking. The song ends, but I hear the record continuing to turn and the crackling through the speakers.
I’m standing in my room, staring at a mannequin. But this isn’t just any mannequin.
It’s wearing the same thing that
thing
was just wearing. A shirt and a black jacket and jeans.
And the face and the hair actually resemble Lily.
I take a deep breath and walk over and touch it. It’s hard and cold.
My heart is racing.
I shiver as I take in the blank look staring back at me.
I’m back in good old Solitary, and this is how it begins.
Wonderful.