The Dark Spirits Beneath by Kason Laufenberg (lightweight ebook reader txt) 📕

out what might be buried beneath. All the while, poor Hillary could be heard from the tree line, still whimpering and looking on at her master anxiously, though not daring to set foot into the light, herself.

Down, down...

Is this ever going to end?

Maybe I actually am going crazy.

But as the hole deepened further, she seemed only to come to the dawning realization that, truly, nothing seemed to be there. Nothing, but dirt, and more dirt, until...

The girl froze, as her fingertips grazed something. Something that definitely wasn't just more dirt. Something that was solid, though soft. Her heart leaped into her throat, and the blood in her veins instantly ran icy cold, as slowly, methodically, she resumed in brushing away the soil from this one exposed part of the hole, the part that was directly beneath her frozen feet. All the while, as she worked, the terror-stricken girl never once broke her trembling gaze on the spot. Cautiously, she looked on in horror, as inch by inch, the fear, and her dark suspicions were sadly confirmed.

She held her breath, as the black soil eventually gave way, to reveal something the girl didn't even want to see. To reveal a modeled gray nose, followed by a pair of delicate, purple lips, full, ashy cheeks, and a pair of sunken, closed eyelids with long, swooping lashes. He could have been asleep if she hadn't known better. Too frightened to speak, too frightened to scream, all the terrified girl could seem to do was take all of it in. To stare in horror at her macabre discovery. The discovery of a corpse. A child. A young boy, no older than herself. Freshly buried, though with plenty of time to decompose to the point of being void of any remaining living humanity.

I know who that is, don't I?

Blinking to her senses, the girl moved to plant a trembling hand on the ground next to the grizzly find, making a motion to slowly rise to her feet and figure out what to do next, or just to remember how to scream again. Or maybe just run home. Back to her mother's overly cautious arms. Something--anything!

Unfortunately, she never got the chance to do any of that. As suddenly, the eyes of the rotting corpse boy blinked open, revealing a milky, glassy gaze. He turned his head sternly to face hers, staring at his discoverer with dead, cold eyes. His hand shot out of the dirt that had buried the remains of his body, gripping the girl's planted arm in an instant, with enough force that she found herself unable to free herself, though not for lack of trying. From somewhere behind her, she could hear the sound of Hillary, barking and growling frantically, as all the terrified girl could do was watch in horror at this nightmare scape unfolding before her unblinking eyes.

This decomposing corpse, this boy... he seemed to be struggling to say something now, with deadly importance, though no sound was escaping his lips. The increasingly frantic girl had no idea what he was trying to say, nor did she care. Not right now. She could feel the torrents of frightened tears streaming down her own pale cheeks, as at this moment, all she desperately wanted to do was run away. To forget about these woods, and never come back. And as her failed attempts at escape never ceased, her eyes remained locked, never breaking from that of the dead child.

She watched on, as those silent pleas slowly, eventually grew into an airy, violently desperate whisper. But the girl still didn't care, and continued to sob in absolute terror, all the while, still pulling in vain to wrench her arm back from the macabre vision before her. Even though now she could make out what the terrible visage was saying. Clear as day. It was... repeating. Repeating the same words, over and over again:

"Help me... Layla... Help me..."

And that was finally enough. Through pained pleas in response, and fits of still frantically trying to free herself, the girl finally found the words to scream out, "No! No, go away! Stop it! Stop it, please! Leave me alone!! "Leave me alone!!!"

Chapter 1

The Chilling Dream

"Layla, calm down... I just asked if you could help with the digging for a bit!"

The familiar voice of James successfully snapped Layla out of the chilling dream. Out of her nightmare trance, as her head shot up with a sudden start. No longer asleep and face down on the red composition notebook lying across her lap. No longer had that of a child lost in the woods.

That was so long ago.

Why do I still keep having that dream?

"What... Don't tell me you fell asleep again," James continued to berate her, unphased by her obvious confusion, as Layla strained to regain her mental faculties.

"What... no... I was just..." she stammered, her thumb tracing the lines of the Saint Christopher medallion, hanging on the gritty chain around her neck. Slowly blinking her way back into reality. Taking on the task of struggling to look as if she was simply resuming her place, amid the messily jotted notes, though she knew her effort would undoubtedly be in vain. The only thing on the page, after all, were mostly cutesy little doodles of cacti and Kokopellis. Layla grimaced and scrambled to cover those up as well.

Wincing a bit against the blinding afternoon sunlight, Layla could feel beads of sweat continuing to form at her temples. She could taste the dust in the air surrounding her and the rest of the archaeological dig site, as she brushed a thin layer of it off the top of her notebook page.

And though most of the sounds of wildlife might have been particularly scarce at the moment, what could be heard was the faint, tinny sound of music, rising above the din. It was a familiar song by Vertical Horizon, one of her mom's old favorites, playing from a Bluetooth speaker linked to Layla's phone, and her