The Visitor (She Waits in Darkness #2)

It took the better part of a whole day to reach the house, and when I did, I was surprised by what I saw.

The house itself was immaculate. And it was the only thing to be seen for miles around, a huge white mansion with gables on either side, looking out onto the barren marshland that surrounded it.

I had heard through rumor that the Mistress of the house had money still, but not nearly the fortune her Father had left her. She had been able to keep the house up. But as the people in the surrounding township left, the swamps reclaimed everything.

All was overgrown. Except the house. There was a bridge that spanned from the edge of the road to the front door.

A man was waiting there for me. He stopped the coach and introduced himself to me. He said his name was Hitchins. And he was a servant to the Lady. As he fussed with helping me with my bags (which were few, but I had the impression he wanted to appear busy) I told him my name.

“Robert Grant,” he rolled the name on his tongue. “It is very nice to meet you sir, but I apologize, because I was not given your name. I was only told that you’d be here at the appointed time, and as I was told, you made it just in time.”

I was taken back by that.

“Well, I am who the Lady called for, but how do you know I am the right person? I mean, without having a name already?”

An expression flashed across Hitchens face, quickly replaced by a placid coldness.

“The Lady said you’d be here. And besides that, no one travels this road uninvited.”

Copyright, Lori Titus 2009

We Speak of Such Things (Part One)

 

Despite the door that separates me from them, I hear their words clearly.

“It’s a ritual,” Jeb says.

“Have you seen it first hand?” the young man asks. He is new to our household and his voice always stands out against the other, more familiar tones. I cannot remember his name.

“One does not work in this household so long without seeing it.”

The young servant exhaled, a sort of gasp that turned into a nervous laugh.

“I’ve heard stories, but….I never believed them. It sounds like madness.”

Jeb’s reply was swift, but low, so that I nearly had to strain to hear.

“Unholy is what it is. You’ll do well to not speak of such things. Here. Or anywhere.”

Jeb cleared his throat then, as if to signal the end of this discussion.

“A visitor will be coming up tonight. You’re to meet him by the gate. Be gracious. We’ve got a room for him upstairs already.”

The two men moved down the hall, and then their voices were lost to me.

I wait, alone in the darkness, with only the light from my fireplace.

I move slightly, my fingertips out before me. When I raise my hands to the fire, I can feel the warmth surge through my skin.

I wait, for the visitor whose carriage is already on its way up through the wilderness.

 

 

Copyright, Lori Titus 2009

The Others (Prologue)

This is the Book of The Others.

We are those that are not human, that share your world with you.

The beings you don’t believe in. The ones that live in the shadows.

We came from you.

But we are not the same.

If you enter, there’s no going back.

You may regret learning our secrets.

But you want to know ….

 

 

 

Copyright, 2009 Lori Titus