Hide From the Light E-Book

Tirzah M.M. Hawkins

• Herausgeber: Tirzah M.M. Hawkins
• Kategorie: Abenteuer, Thriller, Horror
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2021

Beschreibung

When is it government overreach, and when is it something more sinister? Palaha is willing to go along with forced confessions and mandated antibiotics, but her husband Maksim is critical of the government interference. When their little girl begins to have visions, the family realizes that resistance may be futile.
Hide From the Light is a 5,000-word short story set in modern-day Belarus during Maslenitsa. It contains elements from multiple fun horror genres such as psychological, supernatural, folk, and religious.

Leseprobe

Tirzah M.M. Hawkins

Hide From the Light

Copyright © 2021 by Tirzah M.M. Hawkins

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, scanning, or otherwise without written permission from the publisher. It is illegal to copy this book, post it to a website, or distribute it by any other means without permission.

This novel is entirely a work of fiction. The names, characters and incidents portrayed in it are the work of the author's imagination. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events or localities is entirely coincidental.

Tirzah M.M. Hawkins asserts the moral right to be identified as the author of this work.

Tirzah M.M. Hawkins has no responsibility for the persistence or accuracy of URLs for external or third-party Internet Websites referred to in this publication and does not guarantee that any content on such Websites is, or will remain, accurate or appropriate.

First edition

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Contents

1. Introduction

2. Palaha

3. Maksim

4. Palaha

5. Maksim

6. Palaha

7. Maksim

8. Author Notes:

1

Introduction

I have a side gig where people can pay me to write a short horror story based upon their idea. We both receive non-exclusive rights to publish the story.

As an intro, I’ll tell you what was pitched to me; stay tuned after the story for some author notes about what research went into the story.

The name was to be Hide from the Light. The story was to be set in a small community in Belarus during the time of Lent, Maslenitsa, or Shrovetide. The town practices Eastern Orthodoxy. Polish immigration and “strep” bacteria elements were also to be included. The phrase “Apart from the cross there are no ladders in which we can get to heaven” needed to be said by a minister. Some colorful local phrases to also include were “bury your head in the sand”, “hide in potatoes”, and “circus on the wire”. The characters were to feel fear and paranoia about government control in their lives.

As I read the elements to be included in the story, I knew that something sinister was lacking. I’m a horror author. Where is the “horror” aspect in all this. Well, good thing my imagination knows how to think quickly. Give me your feedback on how well I fulfilled my obligations by connecting with me on Facebook. Search for Tirzah M.M. Hawkins, and you can find my page or reader group.

Without further ado, lets dive in to “Hide From the Light”.

2

Palaha

“Momma, momma.”

My daughter screaming from her room awakes me with a start. I can’t imagine what has caused her so much alarm. My heart pounds in my chest and ears as my feet hit the cold wooden floor, and I race to her side.

Aryna sits upright in bed, her face pale, her eyes wide with terror. “Momma,” she calls out again when she sees me.

I cradle her in my arms hoping to drive her fears from her and stroke her long blonde hair. “What has happened, Aryna? What is wrong my dear?”

“I saw her, momma. I saw Morowa Dziewica.”

It takes me a moment to realize who she could be talking about. Where have I heard that name before? Then I recognize the name of the Polish plague maiden. “Aryna, that is a story told to scare children. It isn’t real. You have been playing with those Polish children again haven’t you. I forbid it if they keep telling stories to scare you.”

“But I saw her momma. Sitting on a Russian man’s shoulders. Her eyes were glowing red, and her hair looked like long straw on her head. She whispered something in his ear, and then pointed at you, momma. I’m afraid they’re going to hurt you.”

“Look at me, child. I’m safe, aren’t I? I think you had too many Maslenitsa treats; the rich food gave you a nightmare. Let’s get you settled back into bed.”

She lays back down, and I tuck the covers around her. Then I sing her a lullaby until she seems settled and asleep. On my way back to bed, I pass Daniley standing in the doorway of his room.

“Is Aryna okay?”

I hug my son, grateful that he cares so much for his little sister. “Yes, Daniley. She is fine. Go back to sleep.”

Maksim is still warm under the covers when I climb back into bed. “Everyone all right, Palaha?” he asks.

“Yes, dear. Just too many sweets for the little one.”

* * *

“That’s the man, momma,” Aryna whispers into my ear as I carry her into church for Sunday morning mass. “That’s the man that Morowa Dziewica sat on.”

“Shhh,” I whisper back hoping that no one hears her.

Sitting in the front pew of the church in a crisp tie and suit is a stranger to our small village. He is clearly Russian in nationality, which makes us all instantly suspicious of him. I’ve never seen him before which makes me wonder how Aryna has seen him before. How was he in her dreams last night?

After saying our prayers, lighting candles, and crossing ourselves, we take our place together as a family standing in a pew about halfway up the short aisle of our little church. Usually, we have about fifty people at service, yet today the place is packed with maybe a hundred or more. Something isn’t right, but I won’t give in to superstition.

Priest Keistur Doǔnar begins his message with, “Apart from the cross there are no ladders in which we can get to heaven.” We all cross ourselves at the mention of the cross. ”We need to cleanse and sacrifice in order to prepare for the Easter feast. Let me remind you all now that Lent begins tomorrow for Clean Monday. I expect each of you to sanctify yourselves through confession this week. The Patriarch has sent us an ambassador, Vladimir Vasiliev, to bless us with his presence for the entirety of Lent.”

“Circus on the wire,” Maksim whispers to me. “Why would the Patriarch send us a Russian? That man doesn’t look as if he is from the church. I say he is a government agent.”

I glance around hoping that no one nearby has heard him. “Be careful Maksim. If what you say is true, we need to be careful.”

As the service progresses, I notice that my dear friend Karalina is absent from mass. Her husband, Tamash, is there with their two young children.

After the service, I approach Tamash in order to inquire about my closest confidant besides my husband.

“Where is Karalina, Tamash? I pray she is well.”

His face reveals concern. “She is at home in bed. Over the Maslenitsa weekend, she came down with a fever and a headache and has had difficulty swallowing.”

“I’m sorry to hear it. I will bring her some soup this afternoon.”

“You are a good friend to her, Palaha.”

I collect my children and husband and hurry home in order to make something that Karalina might be able to eat. I also prepare a meal that her family might eat tomorrow if she is not well enough to cook for them for Clean Monday.

Within a couple of hours of arriving home, I make my way to Tamash and Karalina’s residence.

Karalina’s eyes light up amidst her pale face when I arrive. She reaches out for my hand which I give to her, and I sit by her bedside. “You are as good to me as my sister who moved too far away with her family,” she tells me.

“Well, I do love you like a sister. How are you feeling?”

She swallows with difficulty. “The doctor believes that I have strep throat. He brought me some antibiotics and believes I will be better by tomorrow.”

“I’ll be praying for your swift recovery.”

Tamash is standing nearby. “Let us petition the Lord that it is so. A Russian, Vasiliev, was at mass today. He seemed to be taking attendance and inquired of you, even asking the last time you attended confession. Priest Doǔnar asked everyone to go to confession this week, but I believe the Russian may be keeping track of whether people are going or not.”

I silently plead that my husband does not hear of this. He is distrusting enough of the government and the way they seek to control what we do.