Page 53 of When Death Whispers

She sounds close.

Too close.

But it feels like I’m sinking away from her at the same time. Like she’s receding… or I am.

I’m being pulled under.

And I can’t stop it

Everything goes black, and in the final flicker of thought, I don’t think about monsters.

I think about Parker’s laugh.

The way her smile looked just minutes ago.

And how I never got to make good on the promise I made to myself to see that as often as possible.

21

One second we’re laughing—reallylaughing, the kind that makes your sides hurt and your eyes water—and the next, there’s a knock at the door, nearly startling me out of my skin. I automatically get up to search for a towel to wipe up the tea I spilled as Hudson heads for the front door, muttering something about getting the groceries.

I smile to myself as I clean up the mess. My cheeks are still flushed from whatever silly romcom line that had us both wheezing with laughter.

Then I hear it.

Acrack.Athud.A muffledcurse.

And then nothing.

“Hudson?” I call, the smile dying on my lips.

No answer.

My feet are already moving before my brain catches up. “Hudson?” I call again, louder, stepping into the entry hall. But everything is quiet. Too quiet.

The door is cracked.

And cold dread slips through me like a blade.

I push the door open, and the pale, early morning light spills across the porch—but it’s too early, barely reaching the steps. The shadows haven’t retreated yet. They cling to the corners, to the warped slats of wood. Everywhere.

And there—just at the edge of the light—Hudson is sprawled like a ragdoll, one leg sunk clean through a board, his body half-slumped across the porch.

The grocery bags sit untouched at the bottom of the steps, still in perfect rows.

“H-Hudson—” I choke out, already lunging forward.

I hit my knees beside him, trying to lift him up. His eyes are open—but vacant. Distant. Like he’s here and not here all at once.

And then I see the shadows. They’re all over him, wrapping around his legs, slithering up his chest, spilling into his mouth like they’re stealing his very breath.

“No,” I whisper, voice trembling. “No no no, shit.”

I try pulling him up by his arms, bracing my feet against the porch, straining—but he’s too heavy. The shadows pull back like a riptide, dragging his body down. His leg is still caught, and I can’t get enough leverage.

“Come on, comeon—” I grit my teeth, straining as hard as I can, but he’s not budging.

The light isn’t strong enough out here—the shadows are winning.

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