The Crying House - Softcover

Osborn, Jillian

Softcover

ISBN 10: 1462000037 ISBN 13: 9781462000036

Verlag: iUniverse, 2011

Inhaltsangabe

In 1945, Tristian and Josie OBrien settle into a perfect haven located in the ancestry town of Roscrea, Irelandunaware that their new home hides a dark and disheartening secret. Five years later, as the once clouded truth of the homes past begins to reveal itself, the OBriens suddenly find themselves witnessing shocking visions of past atrocities. As the couple is plagued by horrifying apparitions that reenact the terrifying struggles and frightening abuse that once took place in their house, their fear begins to grow as they soon realize that the supernatural forces will stop at nothing to achieve total control. A ghostly raven repeatedly scrapes its beak against the window in the dark of the night; a ghostly man stalks a filthy wench while sounds of breaking glass echoes throughout the walls; and a candle bursts, sending hot wax everywhere. The OBriens are living an ethereal nightmare. When they launch an investigation into the fate of the original owners, they rapidly discover that the spirits of the dead will never rest until they receive help from the living.

Über diesen Titel

Über die Autorin bzw. den Autor

Jillian Osborn was raised in Indiana, just outside of Chicago, where she still resides today. She enjoys dabbling in metaphysics and is a fan of folklore and mythology.

Auszug. © Genehmigter Nachdruck. Alle Rechte vorbehalten.

The Crying House

By Jillian Osborn

iUniverse, Inc.

Copyright © 2011 Jillian Osborn
All right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4620-0003-6

Chapter One

Roscrea, Ireland, the 9th of July, 1900.

Nighttide shade had fallen upon the ancestry town of Roscrea. The air was fresh and the breeze was pleasant. But not a single soul had been out to adore the splendid weather. All the folks were comfortably tucked within their beds and sleeping soundly. It was a peaceful hush that rest within the streets of this sleepy town.

Upon the breath of drafting air way in the sky, soared a solo bird of ebon quills and copper eyes. It descended lower upon the homes in soaring flight, then found its placement within a tree and peered its eyes.

Across its way, the feathered flyer spied a window illumed with light. As it sat upon its restful limb of embellished leaves, the stationed creature found itself within the view of a verbal fight.

It was then Aidan's eyes glared as he raged forth in anger. "Ciara, ye never do anything right. You always mess things up. Look at the bed. I've told ye before. I want those sheets tucked in and me pillows fluffed. I don't know why I ever married you. Ye can't follow directions. You belong outside like a dog, ye stupid wench." His voice carried through the house.

"I'm sorry. Please, Aidan. Please stop your yelling," his frightened wife cried.

"Did I tell you to talk? You're pathetic. Look at you. If ye wanted to cry, I'd give ye something to cry about." Aidan put his hands upon Ciara's shoulders and began shaking her violently. Trying to look away, Ciara continued to squall. "Louder, you wench. I want to hear ye scream. Look at me. Damn it. I said look at me." The fear in her eyes excited him more. "Oh, what? Are ye frightened?"

Tears streamed down Ciara's face as she wailed uncontrollably. Aidan violently slammed his frightened wife against a wall, then leaned into her and began laughing. "You're good for nothing. You'd be better off dead, ye God damn bitch," he roared to her face.

"Please, Aidan, stop," she begged of him.

"What is it? Ye can't handle the truth?" He shoved her, and Ciara tumbled in sluggard motion. Catching her by the back of the head, he jerked her toward him.

"You're hurting me," she cried in pain.

Aidan snickered at her remark. "Oh, come now. Ye didn't feel a thing. But know best. I'll make you." Aidan slapped her forcefully upon the jaw, her cheek now stained within the print of his hand.

An unpleasant squawk arose from outside the window, followed by a violent session of lengthened rappings, as though something impatiently awaited entrance. The squawking continued as it grew louder and louder.

"Damn raven," Aidan yelled in violent anger. He'd thrown Ciara into the corner of a dresser where she'd fallen limply to the floor. Walking over to the window, Aidan shouted at the bird, "Get out of here, damn you." Aidan threw his hands up to scare the bird away, but the raven just sat there tapping at the glass. Aidan continued to shout, "Go on, shoo." He raised the window as the raven flew to a nearby tree.

Its eyes glowed in the dark like burning flames. Looking in on Aidan, the raven continued to squawk. A heavy fog filled the air, accompanied by a rainy mist, and in the distance Aidan heard a woman singing a mournful song. The haunting melody came from the sky and seemed to float on air. Goosebumps covered Aidan's body as shivers ran down his spine, forcing his hairs to stand tall.

The raven squawked, then took off from the tree limb toward the house. Aidan hurried to close the window as the bird yet again began to rap. "Go away," he shouted. The raven beckoned him, but Aidan backed away. Looking down, Aidan saw Ciara unconscious on the floor. Turning her over, he saw the small scratch upon her forehead encased in a large bump. "Wake up. Damn it. Wake up," Aidan shouted, all the while shaking her repeatedly.

He gazed around the room quickly when spotting the small pearl of blood tainting their dresser. Looking back upon his wife, he saw her head continued to swell. At the window the raven still sat rapping. Fear overtook Aidan as he frightfully stared in its eyes. Alongside, a ghostly candle floated in air with its bright flame piercing in through the window.

Aidan laid Ciara upon the bed, then hurried to the window in desperation. In his promptness to close the curtains, Aidan became horrified by the lingering bird and eerie candle that awaited him. In the midst he heard the haunting melody of a ghostly tune refrained within the saddened aria of a lone violin. Sensing it, Aidan began to shake within his skin. Reaching forth his hands quickly, he tugged back the curtains. He then retreated to the bed where his injured wife reposed in sleep.

Ciara was still unconscious, but breathing. Shaken, Aidan balled up within a chair where he sat staring at Ciara until falling asleep. A few hours later Aidan awoke. Glancing at his pocket watch, he noticed it was two-twenty. The room seemed quiet and still. Rising from his seat, Aidan walked steadily toward the window. Peering out from behind the security of the curtains, Aidan no longer perceived the bird nor ghostly candle which had once hovered there. He'd taken a quick sigh of relief just before an unknown sighting would catch the full awareness of his wandering eye.

Drifting through the darkened sky, a strange object glided throughout the fog while shifting in and out of perception. As the unseen object grew closer, a rush of unyielding cries emanated through the air. Aidan looked on, horrified by what he was now seeing.

A creepy black carriage sailed through the night sky with its ghostly master, led loyally by a pair of shadowy horses. Two candles floated away from the carriage, lighting the way. Aidan realized it was a death omen, rightfully acknowledged in Irish lore as the banshee. As with all fatalities, she'd been called upon for collection. Her mournful singing sonorously increased as her carriage approached the dead house.

Floored with shock, Aidan fell to his knees in flabbergasted disbelief while attentively watching his wife's resurrection. Ciara's translucent soul pulled slowly from its quiescent body, detaching itself from Ciara's lifeless shell. Sitting poised within the bed, Ciara quietly floated away from the room and into an adjacent hallway. Guided by the banshee's tune, Ciara followed the haunting melody into the stairwell where she was hypnotically lured toward her home's fore door.

Racing to the bedroom window, Aidan rushed to peer into the fog and mist. There he beheld the banshee's carriage in full sight as it patiently awaited Ciara's arrival. Floating through the corridor, out into the dampened lawn, Ciara roamed the sunless night. Awaiting her entrance, the carriage door creaked open like a rusted gate. And from within its murky depths, a frail, aged, hag-like matron dismounted slowly as she descended disclosure.

Standing beneath the blowing rain, her grey cloak blustered against the swaggered winds, unveiling the gothic dress her body was fashioned within. Her clothes were seemingly tarnished like vintage rags through decades of wear, while musty odors filled and escaped into the stagnant atmosphere. Her long hair was thick, straight, and silver. Her eyes captured the alabaster nakedness of a blanketed snow. And among her hands were elongated nails stretching afar from ossified fingers. Perched atop her left shoulder sat the raven in silent observation.

Extending her right hand, the banshee softly summoned Ciara. "Come, my child. We...

Details zur Ausgabe

• Verlag: iUniverse
• Erscheinungsdatum: 2011
• Sprache: Englisch
• ISBN 10: 1462000037
• ISBN 13: 9781462000036
• Einband: Taschenbuch
• Anzahl der Seiten: 312
• Kontakt zum Hersteller: Nicht verfügbar
• Verantwortliche Person: KreGa Onlinehandel GmbH; 4950000000000; info@krega-onlinehandel.de; ; Birkenweg 31; Brakel; 33034; Deutschland