It took some time for the noise to register as a cellphone, let alone Chelsea’s own. The haze of many shots of tequila and amazing food blended with the dark hotel room. Only her dog, Bentley, warm at her feet, felt familiar. For a woman used to living out of her car, the single room just big enough for the bed seemed vast and empty.
So she wandered out to the kitchen.
“How is this any different from what our parents did?”
“I asked Andy the same thing. And he reminded me that your parents didn’t go as a team. We are. We also know that La Llorona is a phantasm, which your parents didn’t.”
Chelsea licked her lips. “And this isn’t a ghost?”
“Oh, who knows, really.” Andy sighed. “I’m not a biologist or cryptozoologist, I just read the stuff they put out. And the team in West Virginia studying teleporters right now says that teleporters and phantasms are two different things, and neither are ghosts.”
Well, hello, my little nun.
“The legends say she’s the ghost of a woman who killed her own children. But the hands that drowned my mom were solid and real.”
This is a series of short stories, detailing the adventures of Chelsea Childling. You can start with her origin story or pick something from the index.*** The barest slit of a moon opened the sky above her as Chelsea pulled off the highway. The last week of practice had imprinted the route firmly in her mind. Which was […]
Chelsea settled against her car, bottle of beer in hand, and watched the sun head for the horizon as she waited. Out here in the desert, it was quite the production. While some trees had been planted around town, this was big sky country. Different from her beloved South Dakota, but still breathtaking.
The setting sun reddened the mountains in the distance as Chelsea raced down the open road. The gas pedal wasn’t quite flat against the floor, but she was ready to speed up if need be.
This is a series of short stories, detailing the adventures of Chelsea Childling. You can start with her origin story or pick something from the index.*** Beer and fists flowed around her, but Chelsea barely noticed. Oklahoma City’s haunt could have been anywhere. Small, dirty, and full of the usual brawls; it felt like home. […]
Words That Burn Like Fire 