The remains

Chapter 70

With Franny’s help, I managed to get back up onto my feet. As the fresh dirt fell off of me, I stood wobbly, out of balance. I spit out dirt and the skeletal remains of the long departed. I tried to spit out the taste of death.

But it was impossible.

Even to Franny I must have appeared a strange and desperate sight with my filthy clothing, cuts and bruises, and dirt-matted hair. Outside the house now you could hear the sound of thunder. Reaching out to me, Franny tried to brush off some of the dirt from my arms and face.

I grabbed hold of his hand and kissed it. I felt my lips on his hand. I smelled his skin, listened to his breaths. He averted his eyes and stared at the dirt floor.

Not three feet away, Whalen’s body occupied a trench meant for me. An open grave. His head was bleeding. Not a muscle in his body moved. Now I knew for certain that the monster was finally dead.

Cry, cry, cry…

But what if he wasn’t dead? What if he was alive still?

Behind me, Michael’s body hung upside-down from the ceiling, a blood pool directly below him staining the dirt floor, soaking it.

I wanted to go to him. Franny somehow knew this.

“No, Rebecca. NO! NO! NO!”

He put his arm around me, lifting me up off my feet. As I burst into tears, he carried me across the floor, up the stairs, out of the house and into the woods.