Ghost of Sleepy River Part Eight

Ghost of Sleepy River Part Eight

When she brought out the sandwich, things didn't get much better.

In fact, he figured, with how horrible this night had already been, life could only get worse.

Carrying the sandwich with a small paper towel folded underneath it, she handed it to him and sat across from him.

"I'm so happy to be seeing you again, Robert. It's been far too long. You should have visited more often."

"Um...", he gulped. "This can't be real."

"What are you talking about? Of course this is real. Are you sure you're okay?"

Just then, Tom began to stir on the couch, groaning. His head really did look terrible. His eyes opened, red and fuzzy. He poked his tongue out, feeling around his lips, as if they should also be bloody. Confused, Robert looked up to his grandmother, but the space was gone.

Empty.

"What the - " Tom sat up as Robert spewed out the last sentence, rubbing the back of his hair. Smears of blood came away with it.

"What's happening?" he asked, his voice thick and groggy.

"I have no idea, but I think we really need to get out of here as soon as we can. This place is whacked, or else we are." Standing, Robert paused, realizing he had forgotten about the knocking at the door. Only silence now. The night kept getting weirder and weirder.

"You have blood on your back."

"What?" A short chill ran through Robert. "What?"

He felt with his hand, coming away as smeared as Tom's was.

Both of the men were now standing, staring at each other with startled expressions. Neither moved for what seemed like a minute flat. The only noise was the small ticking of an old clock nearby.

"Yeah, I think you're right. Getting out of here would be a good idea," Tom said, his hands trembling.

They both started walking to the door.

Note: This is just one part of nine. Be sure to read them all in consecutive order for the complete story. Search for Ghost of Sleepy River.

Continue on to Part Nine