The Vengeful Vampire (13 page)

Her chest heaved from the exertion and she took a moment to catch her breath. Only one room remained unchecked, the spare bedroom—the one Jackson used as an office. The room was tiny, barely big enough for his desk and a set of shelves. Serenity never went in there. Jackson had made it clear—if he ever found out she’d been in his office, he would make her pay. Fear that he’d set up some kind of trap stopped her from going in when he went out.

Even now, with Jackson dead, the idea of going in scared her. He’d trained her well.

With a shaking hand, she pushed open the door. The standby light on his PC glowed, a mountain of paper balanced beside the monitor.

His book,
she thought with a pang of uneasy regret.
He’ll never finish it now.

She wondered if anyone else had seen the manuscript, if he’d been in touch with anyone about publishing the book. Someone might notice his sudden lack of communication.

The uneasiness did a summersault in the pit of her stomach. What if someone reported him missing? How well would she hold up if the police came asking questions?

Serenity turned her attention back to the office. Stacks of men’s magazines were piled on the floor and several cups of old coffee stood congealing beside them. Crushed, empty beer cans piled high in the trash. Wafts of stale alcohol and feet washed over her.

This was what remained of her husband; this disgusting little room.

Sick to her stomach again, she backed out of the office and gently shut the door behind her. She would have to deal with his things at some point but not now.

Somehow, Sebastian had done this for her. He’d fulfilled his promise and made Jackson disappear. Her earlier thoughts about telling the police had been quashed. She didn’t know how Sebastian had managed everything so perfectly but she would never be able to fool the police into thinking she had done the cleanup alone. Now it wasn’t just her freedom on the line, but Sebastian’s as well.

A spark of hope flared up again. Didn’t doing this for her prove he cared?

What now?

Still shaken and terrified, the words ran over and over in her mind, like a foreign language she needed to practice but didn’t quite understand.

I killed Jackson. I killed Jackson. I killed Jackson.

The moments before she murdered him replayed in her mind. She hadn’t been aware of her actions; she simply reacted. Serenity remembered Jackson laughing at the thought of her trying to leave. After that, everything was a blur.

She compared herself to Jackson; how, after beating her, he would tell her he hadn’t meant it, hadn’t known what he was doing.
‘I don’t know what came over me,’
he would plead.
‘Why do you push me to do these things?’

Serenity could use all of those lines now. For the first time, she could put herself in Jackson’s shoes and she hated it.

The thought brought her tears back, but she forced herself to stop, worried they smacked of self-pity. Tears were another one of Jackson’s favorite hands to play. Had she really become like him?

What to do now? Continue as if nothing had happened?

Half an hour ago, she thought herself unable to eat again. Now her stomach churned, overly hungry and a little sickly. With the sensation came an intense craving for a cup of hot, sweet coffee.

Could she make breakfast in the room where she’d committed murder? The idea felt as crazy as the killing, but she found she could do it. Going back to the scene of the crime, she filled up the kettle with water from the tap and switched it on. She didn’t stop shaking, however, and kept glancing back at the spot where she’d last seen her husband.

Serenity tried to pile coffee into her cup, but her hands shook so badly the brown granules spilled over the countertop. She lifted the kettle and boiling water followed the granules, that too spilling over the counter. Not noticing the amount she put into the mug, she dumped full spoons of sugar into the murky brown liquid.

Taking her too sweet, too strong coffee into the living room, she curled up on the couch and tucked her bare feet beneath her. Out of habit, she reached for her necklace. Her fingers found nothing but skin. Of course, Jackson had broken it. The memory speared her with pain and she quickly snatched her hand away from her throat, pushing away the recollection to preserve her sanity.

For several hours, long after her coffee had grown cold in her hands, Serenity stared into space, lost in the river of thoughts and memories swelling around her, threatening to pull her under.

~*~

Click the link to purchase
Alone
for only $0.99. The second in the ‘Serenity Series’,
Buried
, is due for release in October, 2011.

Also by Marissa Farrar:

Where the Dead Live
available to buy for only $0.99.

What would you do if, while taking a late night shortcut through the woods, the trees started whispering your name? Would you convince yourself the voices were only your imagination or would you run?

What would you do if your child told you they saw faces in the walls? Would you believe them or put it down to only being a case of a child’s night terrors?

What would you do if strange termite mounds started to appear in your greenhouse? Would you call the exterminator or wonder if something unnatural was responsible for the weird constructions?

From horror and paranormal author, Marissa Farrar, comes a collection of haunting, horrifying and surprising short stories.

About the Author:

Marissa Farrar is a multi-published horror and paranormal author. She was born in Devon, England, loves to travel and has lived in both Australia and Spain. She now resides in Devon with her husband, two children, a crazy Spanish rescue dog and four hens. She has a degree in Zoology, but her true love has always been writing.

Her dark take on a vampire romance,
Alone
, was first published in 2009 and has now been re-launched by Red Hot Publishing. The sequel to
Alone
is scheduled for an October 2011 release.

Her short stories have been accepted for a number of anthologies including,
Their Dark Masters,
Red Skies Press,
Masters of Horror: Damned If You Don’t,
Triskaideka Books; and
2013: The Aftermath,
Pill Hill Press. Her own collection of paranormal short stories,
Where the Dead Live
, is also available.

If you want to know more about Marissa, then please visit her website at
www.marissa-farrar.blogspot.com
. You can also find her at her facebook page,
www.facebook.com/marissa.farrar.author
or follow her on twitter @marissafarrar.

She loves to hear from readers and can be emailed at [email protected].

Table of Contents

The Vengeful Vampire

Chapter One