The 2017 Halloween Story is ready for your reading pleasure. This terrifying tale is brought to you by the hard work of twelve authors, an editor, and our incredible moderators. This unique project is not your typical collaborative effort; no discussion about the direction of the story took place, therefore every author had the freedom to chose the path for the story. Each author was given a strict deadline of two days, and the resulting story is epic! From this day forth, I will be posting one new chapter each day (excluding weekends), which means that you will be seeing the final chapter on Halloween day. I invite you to enjoy the story as it rolls out, and if you feel inclined, please leave a kind word for the authors in the Kudos for Writers thread.
Chapter 1:
by Tery
It began with the voices. They began after the bathroom remodel, something Tim and Allison Sparks had recently finished. It had been the first big project in their large mid-century Hacienda-style home. Having had to put it off for two years after buying the house, they had been thankful to finish under budget and on time. Their vision of a spa getaway in the Master bath had been accomplished, though they had to settle on some things. Not the garden tub, though. Allison had been adamant about that.
Where they did find a bargain was on the tile. Tim had found a local potter who made traditional terra cotta tiles. He made tile for the walls, the shower and tub and the floor. They had a slight ashy hue to them but they were beautiful, with a bright yellow and blue pattern on the accent tiles. Once in place, they made the bathroom look like a Sedona spa.
Allison was breaking in her luxurious tub the night they'd finished the new bathroom. With a good book and a glass of good syrah, she immersed herself in the hot water with a satisfied sigh. She was so lost in her book that she barely registered the voices at first, assuming that Tim had the TV on too loud. By the time she realized that the voices were in the bathroom (with her), they had grown in both number and volume. She glanced at the stereo set into the wall opposite the tub but it was off. The window was closed so it wasn't coming from outside. The hair on her neck prickled as she realized there was no normal source for the voices.
"Tim? Can you come here for a minute?"
"Whatcha need, Babe -- more wine?" He entered the room carrying the remainder of the bottle. "Time for a refill?"
"That's really thoughtful of you but, no." She hesitated with a nervous giggle, "Can you hear voices or am I loony tunes?"
"Voices?" Tim sat on the edge of the tub. "Like what, the radio?"
"No. The stereo isn't on. Just be quiet and listen."
"I'd rather climb in that tub with you," he teasingly let his hand move downward.
"I'm serious, Tim!"
"So am I, Ally."
"Tim!"
He sighed and took his hand away. "Okay, what am I listening for?"
"Whispers. I can't hear them very clearly, can't figure out what they're saying, if anything. At first it was only a couple, then..." She shrugged. "Just see if you can hear them, too, so I'll know that I'm not crazy."
"Okay, okay." He closed his eyes and listened.
At first, he didn't hear anything but Allison's anxious breathing. Then he heard it -- a soft whisper. He couldn't make out anything specific, just a gentle susurration. Then he began to hear words...
-- fire --
-- oven --
-- ashes --
-- three --
... but nothing made sense. The voices grew louder and more joined in...
-- tiles --
-- wrong --
... and then there was a chorus of voices. And they sounded angry. And they were loud.
-- STOP --
Allison's wine glass shattered suddenly, the pieces flying into her bath-warmed skin. She screamed in terror and pain. Tim hurried for a towel, wrapping her in it and helping her out of the now-bloody bath water. He sat her on the lid of the commode, trying to pick glass shards out of her skin with trembling fingers, soothing her terrified sobs. He found himself barely able to hold his own back.
"Tim," she whimpered, "What was that?"
"I don't know, Babe. I don't know."
Below them, unnoticed, the tiles changed color: terra cotta to gray to red.
Chapter 1:
by Tery
It began with the voices. They began after the bathroom remodel, something Tim and Allison Sparks had recently finished. It had been the first big project in their large mid-century Hacienda-style home. Having had to put it off for two years after buying the house, they had been thankful to finish under budget and on time. Their vision of a spa getaway in the Master bath had been accomplished, though they had to settle on some things. Not the garden tub, though. Allison had been adamant about that.
Where they did find a bargain was on the tile. Tim had found a local potter who made traditional terra cotta tiles. He made tile for the walls, the shower and tub and the floor. They had a slight ashy hue to them but they were beautiful, with a bright yellow and blue pattern on the accent tiles. Once in place, they made the bathroom look like a Sedona spa.
Allison was breaking in her luxurious tub the night they'd finished the new bathroom. With a good book and a glass of good syrah, she immersed herself in the hot water with a satisfied sigh. She was so lost in her book that she barely registered the voices at first, assuming that Tim had the TV on too loud. By the time she realized that the voices were in the bathroom (with her), they had grown in both number and volume. She glanced at the stereo set into the wall opposite the tub but it was off. The window was closed so it wasn't coming from outside. The hair on her neck prickled as she realized there was no normal source for the voices.
"Tim? Can you come here for a minute?"
"Whatcha need, Babe -- more wine?" He entered the room carrying the remainder of the bottle. "Time for a refill?"
"That's really thoughtful of you but, no." She hesitated with a nervous giggle, "Can you hear voices or am I loony tunes?"
"Voices?" Tim sat on the edge of the tub. "Like what, the radio?"
"No. The stereo isn't on. Just be quiet and listen."
"I'd rather climb in that tub with you," he teasingly let his hand move downward.
"I'm serious, Tim!"
"So am I, Ally."
"Tim!"
He sighed and took his hand away. "Okay, what am I listening for?"
"Whispers. I can't hear them very clearly, can't figure out what they're saying, if anything. At first it was only a couple, then..." She shrugged. "Just see if you can hear them, too, so I'll know that I'm not crazy."
"Okay, okay." He closed his eyes and listened.
At first, he didn't hear anything but Allison's anxious breathing. Then he heard it -- a soft whisper. He couldn't make out anything specific, just a gentle susurration. Then he began to hear words...
-- fire --
-- oven --
-- ashes --
-- three --
... but nothing made sense. The voices grew louder and more joined in...
-- tiles --
-- wrong --
... and then there was a chorus of voices. And they sounded angry. And they were loud.
-- STOP --
Allison's wine glass shattered suddenly, the pieces flying into her bath-warmed skin. She screamed in terror and pain. Tim hurried for a towel, wrapping her in it and helping her out of the now-bloody bath water. He sat her on the lid of the commode, trying to pick glass shards out of her skin with trembling fingers, soothing her terrified sobs. He found himself barely able to hold his own back.
"Tim," she whimpered, "What was that?"
"I don't know, Babe. I don't know."
Below them, unnoticed, the tiles changed color: terra cotta to gray to red.