Lucifer'Spawn- Chapter 2

Here's chapter 2 :) this chapter is SCARY so please don't read it if you can't handle horror novels (this is going to be a lot like Steven King novels).  Enjoy!

I met him outside and he lifted me into the front seat of his truck before setting my wheelchair in the truck bed.  Oddly, I enjoyed chores on the farm.  They made me feel useful for once.  However, most people were shocked that my grandparents even allowed me outdoors, let alone doing hard labor.

“How can you let her around horses?” their snarky church friends would sometimes ask, pretending I wasn’t there.  “What if an animal spooks and kicks her chair?”

Gramps would chuckle and shake his head and Memaw would straighten up a bit and stick her nose in the air.

“What we do with our granddaughter is none of your business.  We haven’t had an accident yet, and I don’t believe we ever will.  Isabelle isn’t stupid, and neither are our animals.”

The ladies would put their heads down a bit and occasionally murmur something to one another, but they were obviously too embarrassed to make any more rude comments.  My heart would always swell with pride when they stuck up for me like that.   It made me feel normal.

“We’ve got to repaint the barn, tend the animals…” I started to zone out as he talked.  I already knew what the chores were.  “I’ll have you pick the berry bushes first, then take care of the animals, okay?” He tossed me a couple of buckets to collect them.

I nodded, absentmindedly fingering the necklace around my neck with my free hand.  He parked and lifted me back into my chair and I headed off towards the bushes.  I had to follow the little path carefully to avoid hitting a rock and toppling over.  I was starting to notice how tired I was, my arms getting achy as I worked to get up the gentle slope of the hill where all the bushes were.  I had trouble falling asleep last night, and the nightmare didn’t help.

Once at the top, I paused for a second to catch my breath before I plucked the ripe little berries one by one, pausing occasionally to pop one in my mouth.  Birds and insects had eaten about a quarter of the berries, but there was still plenty to pick.  I could feel myself getting drowsy, but I needed to at least fill one of the buckets before I took a break.  I emptied one bush and moved on to the next, noticing that staying awake was a struggle.  The next thing I knew, I had turned around and started rolling quickly down the hill.  I made my way back up the path past the barn and towards the chicken coop.

I was watching myself quickly wheel down the little path, practically racing to the chicken coop.  Normally, I rarely go in the coop as the chicken poop gets in my wheels and it’s awful to clean out, but I fumbled with the lock until the door opened up.  Do it, a small voice seemed to whisper in my ear.  I paused slightly before I suddenly stood up and walked into the coop.  I had never walked in my life, being born a paraplegic, but I watched as I simply got up and walked into the coop before reaching into the hen house and grabbing a big, fat hen.  The poor chicken squawked and flapped desperately, causing the other hens to stir and sending white feathers flying but calmly I reached out and snapped both of its wings.  The hen screamed and scratched but I seemed not to notice, bending over and biting its throat.

I woke up in my chair, drooling slightly, both berry buckets in my lap.  I looked around and realized that I was still on the hill and must’ve just dozed off while working. Just a freaky dream.  I finished emptying the bushes and I started down the hill carefully.  When I got to the barn, I set the buckets down outside and grabbed the grooming tools hanging on their hooks next to the tools.  I had just made my way over to one of the horses when Gramps cursed loudly, causing me to nearly drop all the brushes.

“Gramps?  What happened?” I shouted, following his voice as he continued to shout and curse.

“Something killed one of the chickens,” he exclaimed angrily when I found him at the coop.

Gingerly he held the chicken by its foot.  Its withered body appeared to have several broken bones and small splatters of blood covered both it and the ground.  Its tongue hung out almost comically and flies were already swarming around it.

“Memaw’s gonna be furious,” I murmured.

Secretly, I wondered if I had had some kind of premonition, but I told myself that would be absurd, it was clearly just a coincidence.  For all I knew this chicken could’ve been killed before we even got here.

“Damn right she will be.”

“Do you want me to go back to the house and tell her?” I asked.

“No, I’ll go tell her.  Clean up the blood.  The smell will make the other hens nervous,” he advised.

Grabbing the broom, I began to sweep the dirt over the dime sized drops of blood, feeling a bit squeamish.  Thinking about the chicken gave me a bad taste in my mouth.  I let the other chickens back into the yard when I was done, watching them cluck happily over the fresh grain Gramps had already thrown down for them before I went back to the barn.

I couldn’t stop thinking about the hen’s face as I worked, its half-open half-closed eyes seeming to glare at me upside down.  I shuddered, imagining the brutal struggle between the chicken and its murderer.  The chicken must have fought back hard, poor thing.  I grimaced, but tried to focus on the horse I was grooming.  I vigorously rubbed the curry comb along its flank, lifting up dust.  I inhaled on accident, making me cough hard.

My eyes began to water and I realized something was caught in my throat that was making me gag and cough even more.  I wretched and coughed hard, hoping to get rid of the object when I suddenly lurched forward in my chair and vomited a sea of blood…and feathers.  The horse whinnied and stomped its feet nervously to avoid the puddle.  Horrified and disgusted, I immediately felt light-headed.

“Oh God,” I whispered, tears beginning to stream down my face.  “What did I do?”

That’s all I remembered before blacking out.  When I woke up, I was in the hospital, in a thin blue gown.  I had a room all to myself, which made me feel relieved that I didn’t have to worry about a roommate.  I had an IV in my left arm and I was hooked up to a heart monitor.  I noticed Gramps and Memaw sleeping in the big blue armchairs next to my bed.

“Gramps?  Memaw?” my voice was soft and rather cracked.

They both stirred and Memaw quickly rushed over to my side when she saw that I was awake.

“We’re right here Isabelle,” she whispered.

“Where am I?  What happened?”

“You’re in the hospital,” Gramps explained.  “After you got ill you passed out from blood loss.  We’re still not sure what caused you to vomit blood; the doctors needed to wait until you were awake to run tests.”

“How long have I been out?”

“Around 12 hours.  It’s nearly one in the morning.”

I was starting to remember it; the coughing, the vomiting, the feathers.  The feathers.  Tears welled up in my eyes as I suddenly remembered my daydream and the feathers that came up.  My heart began to pound hard and the heart monitor’s beeps sped up.

“I have something to tell you,” I stuttered.  They looked at me eagerly, and I took a deep breath.  “I saw chicken feathers when I threw up.  And-“  I paused, not sure how to say the next sentence.  And I’m pretty sure I killed the chicken in some strange, impossible way.

“We know.  We’re trying to figure that out too.”

Memaw gave me a reassuring pat on my hand.

       

“Do you remember much of what happened?”

       

“Well no, just that I was brushing one of the horses when the dust caused me to cough really hard…” I trailed off, remembering the hideous coughing fit that ensued.

A blonde nurse knocked on the door and then came in.

“I see you’re awake now, Isabelle,” she said, smiling sweetly.  “I’m just going to ask you a few questions.  How old are you, Isabelle?” she asked, pulling out her clipboard and a pen.

“I’m 17.”

“Any dizziness or lightheadedness right now?  Any fatigue?”

I sighed.  “No.”

“Good, good.” Scribble scribble.  “Care to tell me what happened this afternoon?”

I quickly explained what had happened.  She looked up from her clipboard, one eyebrow raised in disbelief.

“That’s it?  Nothing else happened?” I shook my head.  “And you don’t know where the blood came from?” I shook my head again, feeling irritated.

“Well, I guess I’ll call in Dr. Reynolds and have him-“

“Actually, can it wait until tomorrow?  I’m exhausted,” I gave her an apologetic smile.

“I don’t see how, when you’ve been out cold for the past twelve hours, silly!” she said.  She talked to me like I was stupid.  “But since the tests require you to be awake, we might as well wait until morning.”

“Thanks.”

She closed the door and flounced off.

“Are you staying the night here?” I asked Memaw and Gramps.  Being in the hospital made me nervous, and while I didn’t want to admit it, they made me feel safer.

“Of course.  We’re not leaving you here alone overnight!” Memaw reassured me.

I breathed a sigh of relief, adjusting myself in my bed so that my left arm wouldn’t get tangled up in the IV tube.  “Goodnight then.”

“Goodnight.”

I relaxed a bit, sinking into the warm sheets and letting the low beeping of the heart monitor lull me into sleep.