No Ghouls Allowed by Victoria Laurie Read Free Book Online

rescue. It was then that I opened my eyes, but what I saw stopped my breathing
     all over again.

Chapter 2
    With effort I managed to get myself into a sitting position, and take in a few more
     breaths. I blinked and rubbed my eyes to be sure I was seeing what I thought I was
     seeing, but the scene in front of me remained.
    “What the hell?” I whispered as I looked warily around. “Heath?”
    There was no reply.
    “Gilley?”
    Again, no one answered.
    My brow broke out into a cold sweat and I drew my knees in close, continuing to look
     all around, stunned by what I saw. “I must’ve passed out,” I told myself. And yet
     I felt certain I would’ve remembered that sinking feeling that happens right before
     you pass out, like the whole world is receding from you until you let go into darkness.
    There’d been none of that. Just an effort to take a breath, followed by full consciousness
     in an entirely different place.
    It appeared that I was in a hallway that was dimly lit by the glow of the moon. How
     it’d gone from late afternoon to middle of the night was only one part of the puzzle.
     The hallway I recognized by its configuration and the wallpaper. A strip of it next
     to me was aglow with moonlight, and there were the telltale bluebirds, hurrying to
     build a nest, one with a bit of string and another with a small twig in their respective
     beaks. The pattern had fascinated me as a child and it was one I’d spent a lot of
     time studying during the lonely days of my mother’s long illness when I’d been sent
     to spend time with my maternal grandparents.
    I reached out to touch the wallpaper, and it felt real enough. Shakily I got to my
     feet and leaned against the wall. “Heath?” I tried again. “Gilley?”
    This time my call was answered by a noise from behind a closed door at the end of
     the hallway. I felt another cold chill go through me and I shuddered. The sound had
     been human—I was sure of it—but it hadn’t belonged to any voice I recognized.
    As my heart hammered in my chest, I crept forward, feeling like a cliché right out
     of a B horror movie. I got to the door and hesitated. This had been my mother’s bedroom
     when she’d been little. I used to sleep in it when I spent the night, but I hadn’t
     been in it, or the house really, since my grandparents had passed away nearly a dozen
     years ago.
    I rested my palm on the door handle, unable to control the shivering of my limbs.
     I felt cold and scared and very much like I had when I was nine and knew that my mother
     was never going to get better.
    For a second I entertained the idea of turning around and dashing down the stairs
     and out of the house, but then that noise came again from the bedroom, and this time
     it was more distinct. It sounded like a child in distress.
    Taking a deep breath, I gripped the handle firmly and turned it. As I entered the
     room, I saw the most terrible sight.
    Hovering three feet in the air above the bed was a skinny little girl with long dark
     hair, a pale complexion, and the most terrified expression on her face. She was dangling
     above the bed like a rag doll, held up by an unseen force, but she seemed to be clutching
     at her throat, as if an invisible hand held her by the neck.
    I took a step forward to help her, but then her eyes shifted to me and I came up short,
     stunned to my core. The little girl was unmistakable.
    She was me. Eight-year-old me.
    I stood there for several heartbeats too shocked to move. And then the much younger
     version of myself stopped clutching at the invisible force holding her and she actually
     reached her small hand out to me.
    I reacted out of instinct. I ran to her with outstretched arms, and as I got to her,
     whatever was holding her by the throat suddenly let go. She fell into my arms and
     I wasted no time turning tail and running out of the room. Cradling her protectively,
     I rushed down the stairs and right out the front door.
    I didn’t stop