Hayfield Manor - Chapter One

ONE
Outside the wind was howling, roaring past her bedroom window. There had been a wind advisory issued for the town of Hayfield by the national weather service of winds reaching an excess of 45 to 50 miles per hour. And it sure did seem to come out of nowhere. The bright sunny day that Daphne had enjoyed earlier, laying out on her lawn, texting her friends now seemed to be a distant memory as she stared out her window at the darkening clouds and the leaves being ripped from their stations.
Daphne could hear the howl and it made her skin crawl. Now being eight in the evening her mind drifted back to how the sudden temperature drop from the mid-80's to 50 degrees made her skin prickle and shudder. She wrapped a blanket about herself trying to warm up. She had never heard of such a temperature drop. She wasn't even sure it was possible. But then again things haven't been quite normal lately.
Her dad, Jeff had recently lost his job at the mill and had now spent his days pulling out his hair trying to figure out how he was going to put food in the table for his family. He had his 401k that he could cash in on but considered that as his last resort. Right now his savings account and the life insurance policy from his parents death last year was carrying them afloat. From his estimation he had about three months left before the 401k option became a reality.
As he sat in his study going over his financials on his laptop suddenly the lights flickered signaling time for a change. Shortly following the flicker the screen on his laptop sunddenly went on the fritz. Window after window popped up as it was infected with a virus. He clicked and clicked out of boxes hoping to end the madness but then everything went off at once and the shutters flew open followed by a howling wind.
Jeff stood in the dark heading towards the windows frantically trying to shut them but failing miserably. Pushing back against the wind, Jeff was pelted by flying twigs through the opened window. Finally gaining control by settling his feet like the football player he used to be Jeff finally gained enough strength to latch the windows shut.
As he turned back to his study in the dark everything came back on at full blast. Booming out of his stereo came the newest Adele song, "In The Deep" piercing his ears so forcibly he had to put his hands to his ears to muffle the sound. As he walked to his stereo to turn it down he noticed the damage done to his study and quickly thought, "shit, there goes what savings we had left," and wondered if he had paid the home owners insurance last month.
Letting his mind wander was the last thing he remembered as a shape of a woman with her hair in a bun took shape in front of him. She was wearing an apron and flickered in black and white, like a transmission from a 50's television show. Although not like any show he remembered. This wasn't Mrs. Cleaver from Leave It To Beaver. This woman had sores on her face oozing with a black pus that smelled like rotten meat. The woman flickered again and her head jerked no looking at Jeff who had frozen in his step. Her hands came to her waist and her fingers broke backwards with just her palms now showing. Jeff could hear the cracking of bones and a chill went through him. Bugs of all kinds came crawling out of her ears and her decaying teeth started to fall out followed by oozing drips of blood which landed on the front of her apron and then to the hardwood floor. Jeff could hear the splash of each drop and let his eyes fall to see them forming a puddle.
Only his eyes seemed to be allowed to move as he went back to the face that held his body frozen. A cackle came forth now as her strapped heels scrapped across the floor to him flickering with each step and head cocking from angle to angle. Jeff franticly tried to scream but was only allowed a whisper. His voice was held in a vice grip as she reached him. He stared into her eyes as they went hot white then blood red. So focused on the eyes Jeff failed to see her fingers regain form or the axe that ended his wonder. It came quickly severing his head from his body allowing blood to spurt from his neck and join the puddle of blood she had already begun to make.
His body took take a few steps forward to its intended destination of the radio but then fell to the ground helpless and unable to worry again how he would put food on his table.

by Antonio Grasso, author of The Valley of Candles