AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“No, I didn’t,” Eloise says, shutting her own door. She turns around, glancing toward the porch, her eyes turning wide. “What the hell?”
I step off the street, narrowing my eyes as I glance toward the house.
“I didn’t light them either,” I mumble, adjusting my shopping bags as I walk up the stairs. The front of the pumpkins are facing the house, so I can’t see them, but something seems off. Something is very off about them.
Our four carved pumpkins are all lit, the small flame reflecting off the side of the house. We just carved them the other night when we decorated the porch, but I have a bad feeling. Something is wrong.
I walk to the door, my eyes glancing at the pumpkins.
Holy. Shit.
“Guys…” I whisper in a shaky voice.
They race up the steps, all of them leaning over my shoulder to glance at the pumpkins.
“What the fuck,” Eloise whispers.
Each pumpkin holds a letter.
K.
I.
L.
L.
“What happened to our pumpkins?” Posie snaps. “I spent a lot of fucking time carving mine,” she lashes, completely forgetting about the actual point.
“That doesn’t matter, Posie,” Vienna growls, nodding toward the pumpkin. “Hewas here.”
She pauses, staring at the pumpkins for a minute. Then her body snaps straight, her eyes narrowed. “I’m tired of this shit. People are dying and this guy is just fucking with us. I’m tired of it!” she screams, looking out onto the street. “Can you hear me, you asshole? I’m done with your bullshit. If you’ve got a problem, come say it to my face!” she shouts at the top of her lungs, her face turning red from exertion, shaking the box in her arm. “We’re not afraid of you.”
My eyes widen. Holy shit, she’s losing her damn mind.
I reach out, gripping her wrist as I pull her toward the front door. Vienna adjusts the box in her arm as she unlocks the door, shoving it open, all of us stepping inside.
Posie’s ear-piercing scream is so loud and sharp that I feel like my insides bleed.
My eyes lift, catching on the body swinging in front of me. My head cranks back, the bags slipping from my arms as I see the rope tied around his neck. His face is purple, all the blood having pooled above. His head lays limply to his side, his neck clearly broken.
The body swings back and forth, limbs loose and heavy as they droop at his sides.
His eyes are open, disgustingly bulging from their sockets from the pressure, the whites completely red and bloodshot.
Large gouges are cut through his flannel, stab marks and so much blood that has turned his blue and gray shirt a darkish red and brown.
He wasn’t just hung. He was slashed and stabbed, and then hung.
As what, a prize? A warning? A threat?
“I think I’m going to be sick,” Vienna gags, dropping the box to the ground, her palm slapping over her mouth as she rushes to the bathroom.
Eloise stares at him beside me, her eyes red, a little shock, a little irritation in her gaze.
“This is the detective who was working on Zane’s case,” she whispers.
My eyes widen, and I turn to her. “What? He’s a detective?” I shriek, my body beginning to tremble. “And he’s in our fucking house?”
