Whispers in the Night Read Online Free
Author: Brandon Massey
all but forgotten the flies and Odettaâs story about leeches. A loud noise overhead woke her one night. It sounded like a boot clomping on the rooftop.
Danielle opened her eyes, staring at the shadow of the telephone pole outside on her ceiling. Her bedroom always captured the light from the single streetlamp on this end of Tobacco Road. Sometimes her eyes played tricks on her and made her think she could see shadows moving. But shadows donât make noise , Danielle thought.
Kyle would have sprung from bed to get his rifle out of the closet. But Kyle wasnât here, and Danielle didnât know the first thing about the rifle, so she lay there and stared above her. That hadnât sounded like breathing wood or any of the old houseâs other aches and pains. Someone is on the roof. That was plain.
Not a rat. Not a raccoon. Not an owl. The only thing big enough to make that noise was a deer, and sheâd stopped believing in creatures with hooves flying to the roof when she was eight. The clomping sound came again, and this time it was directly above her.
Danielle imagined she saw a large shadow on the ceiling above her, as if something was bleeding through. Imagined , because she couldnât be sure. But it seemed to be more than just the darkness. It was a long, large black space, perfectly still. Waiting. Danielleâs heart galloped, and she couldnât quite catch her breath.
The thing on the rooftop made up its mind about what to do next.
The shadow glided, and Danielle heard three purposeful strides on the rooftop above the mass. The sound was moving away from her bedâ toward the babyâs crib . The baby was still asleep, breathing in slow, heavy bursts. Danielle could hear Lola over the noise.
Too late, Danielle realized what she should have done: She should have jumped up, grabbed the baby, and run out of the room as fast as she could. It wouldnât have hurt to grab her Bible from inside her nightstand drawer while she was at it. But Danielle had done none of that, so she only lay there in helpless horror while a shadow-thing marched toward her baby girl.
As soon as the last clambering step sounded aboveâ CLOMPâ the baby let out a loud gasp.
The rooftop went silent, and the babyâs breathing was normal again. Well, almost. Lolaâs breathing was more shallow than it had been before, more hurried, but it was the steady breath of sleep.
After listening in the dark for five more minutes, feeling muscle cramps from lying so still beneath her blanket, Danielle began to wonder if the horrific sound on the rooftop had been in her imagination. After all, Lola woke up if she sneezed too close to her doorâso wouldnât the baby have heard that racket and started wailing right away? Suddenly, it seemed all too plausible that the sound had been from a raccoon or an owl. Just magnified in the darkness, that was all.
Served her right for letting family too close to her. Just crazy talk and nightmares.
But although she didnât hear another peep from the rooftopâand Lolaâs breathing was as steady as clockwork running only slightly fastâDanielle couldnât get back to sleep that night. She lay awake, listening to her baby breathe.
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The next thing Danielle knew, sunlight was bright in her bedroom.
Lola woke up at six oâclock every morning no matter how late she went to bed, so Danielle hadnât lingered in bed long enough for the sun to get this bright all summer. Danielle looked at her alarm clock: It was ten oâclock! Midmorning. All at once, Danielle remembered the racket on the rooftop and her babyâs little gasp. She fully expected to find Lola dead.
But Lola was sitting up in a corner of the crib, legs folded under her Indian style, patiently waiting. She wasnât whining, cooing, babbling, or whimpering. The baby was just staring and waiting for her to wake up.
Danielle felt a surge of warmth and relief,
Danielle opened her eyes, staring at the shadow of the telephone pole outside on her ceiling. Her bedroom always captured the light from the single streetlamp on this end of Tobacco Road. Sometimes her eyes played tricks on her and made her think she could see shadows moving. But shadows donât make noise , Danielle thought.
Kyle would have sprung from bed to get his rifle out of the closet. But Kyle wasnât here, and Danielle didnât know the first thing about the rifle, so she lay there and stared above her. That hadnât sounded like breathing wood or any of the old houseâs other aches and pains. Someone is on the roof. That was plain.
Not a rat. Not a raccoon. Not an owl. The only thing big enough to make that noise was a deer, and sheâd stopped believing in creatures with hooves flying to the roof when she was eight. The clomping sound came again, and this time it was directly above her.
Danielle imagined she saw a large shadow on the ceiling above her, as if something was bleeding through. Imagined , because she couldnât be sure. But it seemed to be more than just the darkness. It was a long, large black space, perfectly still. Waiting. Danielleâs heart galloped, and she couldnât quite catch her breath.
The thing on the rooftop made up its mind about what to do next.
The shadow glided, and Danielle heard three purposeful strides on the rooftop above the mass. The sound was moving away from her bedâ toward the babyâs crib . The baby was still asleep, breathing in slow, heavy bursts. Danielle could hear Lola over the noise.
Too late, Danielle realized what she should have done: She should have jumped up, grabbed the baby, and run out of the room as fast as she could. It wouldnât have hurt to grab her Bible from inside her nightstand drawer while she was at it. But Danielle had done none of that, so she only lay there in helpless horror while a shadow-thing marched toward her baby girl.
As soon as the last clambering step sounded aboveâ CLOMPâ the baby let out a loud gasp.
The rooftop went silent, and the babyâs breathing was normal again. Well, almost. Lolaâs breathing was more shallow than it had been before, more hurried, but it was the steady breath of sleep.
After listening in the dark for five more minutes, feeling muscle cramps from lying so still beneath her blanket, Danielle began to wonder if the horrific sound on the rooftop had been in her imagination. After all, Lola woke up if she sneezed too close to her doorâso wouldnât the baby have heard that racket and started wailing right away? Suddenly, it seemed all too plausible that the sound had been from a raccoon or an owl. Just magnified in the darkness, that was all.
Served her right for letting family too close to her. Just crazy talk and nightmares.
But although she didnât hear another peep from the rooftopâand Lolaâs breathing was as steady as clockwork running only slightly fastâDanielle couldnât get back to sleep that night. She lay awake, listening to her baby breathe.
Â
Â
The next thing Danielle knew, sunlight was bright in her bedroom.
Lola woke up at six oâclock every morning no matter how late she went to bed, so Danielle hadnât lingered in bed long enough for the sun to get this bright all summer. Danielle looked at her alarm clock: It was ten oâclock! Midmorning. All at once, Danielle remembered the racket on the rooftop and her babyâs little gasp. She fully expected to find Lola dead.
But Lola was sitting up in a corner of the crib, legs folded under her Indian style, patiently waiting. She wasnât whining, cooing, babbling, or whimpering. The baby was just staring and waiting for her to wake up.
Danielle felt a surge of warmth and relief,
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