The Reek of Death
Daine laughed as her long legs carried her ahead of Jonathon. She dashed up the hill and rolled down the other side . Her laughter rang around the grassy outcropping as she lay at the bottom of the rise. Jonathon reached the bottom seconds after her, his laughter joining hers.
She suddenly turned her eyes accusing, "Did you let me win because I'm a noble and you're our farm boy?" He shook his head in a solemn no. He absolutely adored Daine but she needn't know that. A clop of horse hooves on cobblestones brought him to reality.
"Lets go see who it is," Daine suggested, grabbing his hand and pulling him up. As they breached the opposing hill, they could just make out the police carriage turning off toward Daine's mansion.
Daine's eyes widened and she tore off toward her home, Jonathon tagging along. They did not notice the small black spider crawling amongst the leaves.
Cutting across the fields, they made it to the mansion before the carriage. As they entered the main hall, Daine stared with horror at her dead father. She looked quickly away from the bullet-hole in his chest. She began to weep softly. Jonathan could only stand by her side in shock. They both turned quickly toward the sound of maniacal cackling and only a quick reaction saved Daine as she jumped to the side as a bullet ricocheted off the expensive flooring.
Daine's mother stood at the doorway, a demonic gleam in her eyes. Her once fine hair was in disarray, a rifle in her hands. She charged at Daine laughing all the time.
Jonathon yelled her name to try and break the spell, as Daine sprinted away. Her mother continued toward them and then stopped, her body sagged, and she dropped to the floor. She gave one last shudder and was gone. Only then, did they notice a swollen bump bleeding sluggishly on her arm.
The police arrived seconds later. Daine sobbed and Jonathon tried to comfort her. As the police carried out the bodies, no one noticed the small black spider spiraling down on a length of web.
The chief came toward them muttering about devils. His flame-red hair and mustached marked him as Irish. He straightened and said, "Young Lacabe, you'd best stay at our house until we can get word to your kin. You too, Porter."
Daine stood, wiped her eyes and curtsied, her head nodding a silent yes.
In the following days other bizarre reports were heard. Strange things were happening all over the town.
The mayor shot himself. The butcher killed a man before dying himself. Three police officers were killed trying to restrain the blacksmith. The police chief's wife hung herself. Several local beggars died suddenly after running through town shouting terrible things. All the victims had the bump.
The day after the chief's wife's suicide, Daine could take no more. She awoke early in the morning, shook Jonathon awake and told him they had to leave, to go anywhere.
They gathered just a few things and ran. They ran away from the reek of death every where. Away from the pain. Away from the sorrow. Away from the wailing. Just away.
As they ran neither of them noticed the small black spider sitting on Daine's haversack laughing at the world.