Daddy’s Little Girl E-Book

Robert Jeschonek

• Herausgeber: Pie Press
• Kategorie: Abenteuer, Thriller, Horror
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2019

Beschreibung

Ever since the Voices started, little Bonnie can't sleep anymore. Every night, they whisper through the walls of her room, casting a dark spell over someone in her family...preparing them for a rampage of gruesome murder. What if the only way for Bonnie to save her family is to destroy someone she loves? And what if the secret of the Voices is even deadlier and more terrifying than she can imagine? Don't miss this story by award-winning writer Robert Jeschonek, a master of shocking horror that really packs a punch.

Leseprobe

Daddy’s Little Girl

A Horror Story

Robert Jeschonek

Contents

Also by Robert Jeschonek

Daddy’s Little Girl

About the Author

Special Preview: Bloodliner

DADDY’S LITTLE GIRL

Copyright © 2023 by Robert Jeschonek

http://bobscribe.com/

Cover Art Copyright © 2023 by Ben Baldwin

www.benbaldwin.co.uk

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places and incidents either are products of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events or locales or persons, living or dead, is entirely coincidental.

A Pie Press book

Published by Pie Press Publishing

411 Chancellor Street

Johnstown, Pennsylvania 15904

www.piepresspublishing.com

Also by Robert Jeschonek

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Bloodliner

Dolphin Knight

Heaven Bent

Six Fantasy Stories Volume One

Six Superhero Stories Volume One

The Return of Alice

Daddy’s Little Girl

There they were again.

The Voices. Muffled, whispered, rhythmic, they rose and fell from somewhere beyond the bedroom wall. Unable to ignore them, unable to make out what they were saying, thirteen-year-old Bonnie Stasko shivered between the sheets of her bed and listened.

It was one‑thirty in the morning. In five hours, Bonnie would have to get ready for school; her eyes would be red, and she would feel incredibly tired, and she would probably fall asleep during her first‑period class...but she certainly couldn't go to sleep now. Sleep was impossible, as it had been for the past week, as it had been every night since the Voices had started.

Every night, they came at the same time. Every night, they came from the same place: the room next‑door, where her little sister slept.

Her little sister, Jenny, who was only five years old.

None of the Voices belonged to Jenny; Bonnie could tell that much, though she couldn't tell what they were saying. None of the Voices belonged to her parents, either. At first, that's what Bonnie had thought--that the Voices were those of her parents. On the second night, that theory had been squelched: Bonnie had gotten out of bed and gone to the room next‑door, and there had been no one in the room except Jenny. That second night of the Voices, Bonnie had then gone to her parents' room, and she had seen them both sleeping soundly in their bed.

Then, she had run back to her own room and thrown the door shut and turned on all the lights. She had buried herself in her bedsheets and blankets and quivered, her eyes wide as Easter eggs.

Whose Voices were they? What were they saying? What did they have to do with her sister?

The more she asked herself these questions, the more frightened she became.

Though it was warm that summer night, Bonnie clutched a sheet, a blanket and a quilt to her chin. She stared through the shadows at the opposite wall of her room, with the ducks in raincoats wallpaper. For months, she had griped about that wallpaper, telling her parents she was much too old for it; now, the thirteen‑year‑old didn't care about the ducks. All she worried about were the Voices.

The only light in her room came from a dim night‑light plugged into an electrical socket beside her bed. It wasn't enough to make her feel safe; all it did was cast weird shadows on her ceiling, shadows which she couldn't help imagining were the shifting, dark source of the Voices. She wanted all the lights on now, but she didn't dare turn them on. Her parents had already scolded her three times for leaving her lights on all night.

The Voices were still whispering now, rustling beyond the wall behind the head of Bonnie's bed. Involuntarily, she strained to hear them, tried to pick out some of the words they were uttering in the darkness. They eluded her, though, sifting just below the limits of clarity. Sometimes, they seemed to grow the tiniest bit louder, and Bonnie thought she could almost grasp a word...but then they would drift out of reach again, back into their unintelligible murmur.

Soon, Bonnie knew, they would start to fade away. As if they were growing fainter with distance, the Voices would fade and finally cease, the way they always did. Bonnie would be left in silence again, a stony silence broken only by her own rapid breathing.

A whimper fluttered from her throat as she cringed against her pillow, wondering what the Voices were saying. If only she could understand them, pinch out a word or a sentence, she might know what was happening, what threat she faced. If she could just fish out a little bit, she might be able to convince her mother or father that the menace was real.

She had told them both already, after the third night, but they hadn't believed her. Too many times before, they had rushed in when she was screaming, only to find that she was scared of imaginary monsters in her closet or under her bed or outside her window. “Bad dreams,” they'd told her with gentle smiles on their faces. “You're just having bad dreams.”

If there was one thing Bonnie knew about the Voices, it was that they were definitely not a bad dream. She didn't know what they were, but she knew they weren't nightmares. She wished that was all they were.

Glancing at the big red numbers that glowed on the face of her digital clock, Bonnie saw it was 1:39. In a minute, just a minute, the Voices would be gone, and she would cry and wait for sunrise. The Voices were always on time, never showing up early or leaving late, never lingering past 1:40 a.m.

Wincing, holding her breath, she leaned her head back and tried to hear what the Voices were saying. As always, she couldn't tell what words were spoken, or if there were any words at all. As always, the Voices slowly began to fade out.

And then, suddenly, she could hear them clearly.

All at once, she could hear them without any trouble, as if they were speaking from right behind the bed's headboard. There were several of them; though she couldn't tell the exact number, she could hear every word they said.

“Good girl,” they said in unison, sounding pleased. “Good girl,” they repeated distinctly, sluicing through the wall as if it wasn't even there.

Bonnie jolted from her pillow and scrambled away from the headboard. Terrified that the Voices had somehow entered her room, she flung herself to the foot of the bed and leaped to the floor.

“Good girl,” the Voices said again as Bonnie ran to the far corner of her room. “Good girl!” they said emphatically as she sank to her knees and sobbed.