Short Story Excerpt - Whispers From Hell

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This story was based on actual experiences I had once upon a time. The more fantastic happenings in this story are obviously fictitious, but the unusual sounds, sense of being watched, and nightmares were all real experiences for me in a house I once owned. Looking back, I’m not sure how much of that was my own overactive imagination. Probably most of it. But it did inspire me to write this story.

What is it About?

Melvin Andrews becomes the sole owner and resident of a house that had unnerved him from the first moment he'd laid eyes upon it. As he tries to identify the malevolent spirit haunting him, he realizes that his is not the first soul this entity has preyed upon. Can he defeat this ancient evil, or will he succumb to the Whispers From Hell?

A Brief Excerpt:

     Just dip your fingers into it, Melvin. That’s the only way you’ll really know what it is, that evil voice whispers.

     I can hear that malevolent grin the way you might hear someone smiling during a telephone call. I think observing that evil thing’s twisted pleasure is the only thing that kept me from obeying.

     Hm? No, I didn’t touch it.

     Because I can see something to my left. I can only see it out of the corner of my eye, but it always grabbed my attention instantly. It’s brick, about twenty feet long, and it sticks out about eight or nine feet from the cement wall. There are five arched doorways -no doors- on its face. The structure stands about five feet high -the same height as the slab- and hot, acrid air blows from the doorways with enough force to scald my face. The doorways are three feet wide, each of them, and obstructed by a cement slab protruding from the center of each threshold. These slabs are different. These slabs have no bases, no legs. It looks as though they hover in the air. From time to time, one of the slabs draws back through its respective doorway.

     What’s that?

     Yes, there are items on those slabs, but I have the good sense never to look. All I can say for certain is that, once a slab is drawn back, the contents are cooked to incineration. The sound it makes is very much like that of bacon frying in hot oil.

     Believe me, I understand. It’s a good deal more revolting to experience it, though. Shall I give you a moment, my friend?

     If you insist…

     There is something else about that part of the basement. It isn’t something I see with my eyes or hear with my ears. It’s more like something I sense with my soul and it’s just as real as the evidence I gathered with my other senses. That is to say that I trusted it without question.

     What is it I know so undeniably?

     Simply that this area -the brick ovens in particular- are the source of my home’s evil. An evil of the purest form, born there within those ovens. I don’t know why, but it lingers there in that basement. Perhaps it simply awaits fresh victims.

     I don’t know if you really understood this before, but let me be clear now. That evil speaks to me throughout these dreams. I here its whispers, but I can never quite make out its words. I did know the message was far from pleasant.

     How do I know this? Still, you hold onto that skepticism? Good for you, my friend. It may save your soul.

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Experience all nine stories in Whispers From Hell: An Anthology of Horror & the Supernatural.

Follow these links to get your ebook or paperback copy:

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Nook link coming soon!



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