Whispers From The Dark Read Online Free

creatures.  And the longer the water survives the summer sun, the stronger the beasts seem to get.
    I think they want to escape from the puddles and I think that if they have enough time, that if it wasn’t for that wonderful jolly old sun, they just might manage to do it.    
    But I’m getting nervous.
    Summer’s ending, the days are growing cooler.
    Next week’s weather forecast calls for rain every day.
     

 
     
     
     
     
     
     
    THE DARK
     
    “You don’t care at all if there’s nothing after we die?”  Bill asked with disbelief.
    Robert shrugged.  “Not worth thinking about.”  He cracked open another beer, his tenth of the evening.  His words were starting to slur somewhat now.
    “I mean like it was before you were born.  Nothingness.  Thinking about that doesn’t bother you at all?”
    “I don’t think about.  It’s easier that way.”
    “You’re a lucky fucker, then.”
    “I think most people don’t think about it, man.  Hell, you just started worrying about it so much since…”  Robert’s voice trailed off.
    “Since my Mom died,” Bill finished for him, nodding.  “I know.”
    It was true.  One week after his mother died of cancer it had started.  He’d been watching an old horror movie and started imagining himself as the teenager who was being murdered.  Religion had always been hard for him to swallow; heaven and hell and reincarnation all seemed like wishful thinking.
    It was far more likely that there was nothing.  Pure darkness; no consciousness or awareness.  Trying to wrap his mind around what that would be like, Bill had thrown himself into the grip of one hell of a panic attack.
    “Maybe that’s why you don’t give a shit,” Bill said.  “You’ve never lost anybody.”
    Robert shook his head.  “Nope.  That's not it at all.  I’m just more concerned with living my life than I am with dying.”
    “Afterlife or no?”
    “Look: It’s fifty-fifty.  It’ll be great if there is something.  I hope there is, for that matter,” Robert said.
    “And if there isn’t?  If it’s just blackness…nothingness?”  Bill queried.
    Robert took a long pull of his beer and turned the question around in his mind for a moment before answering.  “It won’t matter.  I mean… if it’s nothing, we won’t know.  Hell, it’s probably not that bad once you’re in it.  Darkness, I mean.  At least we don’t have to work and pay taxes.”
    Bill rose from his seat, shaking his head.  “I wish it was that easy for me.  I gotta piss, then we’re gonna finish this conversation.”  He made his way down the hallway and into the bathroom.
    As he stood over the toilet Bill fought hard to push the thoughts of death from his mind.  Talking about it was fine, but whenever he was alone he inevitably ended up trying to envision what it would be like to vanish into nothingness.  He turned his attention to the Rolling Stone cover in the floor, reading the headlines to occupy his mind until he was finished.
    He returned to the room to find Robert slumped over on the arm of the sofa, a thin ribbon of drool glistening in the corner of his mouth and his beer still in his hand.
    Bill shook his head and chuckled.  “So much for finishing the goddamn conversation.”
    Grabbing another beer from the fridge, Bill switched off the overhead lights and sat down behind the computer in the corner of the living area of his small rental house.
    He began to mindlessly surf through news sites, eyes flittering across the various bad news headlines and celebrity gossip stories before settling on a fluff piece about a beagle named Ringo who had woken up its owners in time for them to escape the fire that had engulfed their home.
    “Ringo was his name-o,” Bill whispered.
    Behind him, Robert started to snore softly.
    Bill started scanning the headlines again when an instant messaging window popped up onto the computer screen, the dinging sound that accompanied it startling