#writblr excerpt

The night had brought thick gray clouds that thundered and growled as they rolled over the valley.  Brona listened to them overhead as she stood at her stove, preparing a late supper of stew for herself.  She had worked a busy day in the fields with her sisters, all the while trying to keep a young daughter entertained throughout her labors.  At the end of the day, mother and daughter were both exhausted from a day of chasing one another through the wheat fields.  Little Peggy was in bed now, but Brona had stayed up to bake some sweet bread as a treat in the morning.

Brona moved closer to her cackling fire, turning tired eyes to her dusty ceiling as another clap of thunder shook the homestead.  For once, she was thankful Peggy was such a heavy sleeper.  A warm smile tightened across her lips.  Then just as quickly it faltered as three heavy thumps rattled her door.

Thump.

Thump.

Thump.

Another three fell heavily against her door—then silence.  Sweat beaded at her floured brow, despite Brona standing next to the fire.  Thunder shook the house again, masking the shaking murmur of a voice.

“—ona...” she heard through the door.  “Brona...” the voiced murmured, so loud through the petrifying silence.

She bit her lip, and clapped her hands quietly over her mouth and nose—Brona didn’t trust her quivering breath to keep her hidden.  The door banged against the hinges this time, and she almost feared jumping out of her skin.

“Brona my love...”

Tears trickled from the corners of her eyes.  She didn’t know when she had started crying, but it was hard to smother the sobbing through her fingers now.

“Let me come in...” the voice outside moaned, and it took all of Brona’s breaking willpower to keep from shouting back.

“Let me in...”  Thump.  “Let me in.” Thump.

Brona prayed he would go away—or better yet, that this is was only a nightmare she hadn’t woken from yet.  But it wasn’t, and the man on the other side of her door grew more demanding in his voice and attacks on her door.  However, Brona knew as long as she stayed quiet and unheard, this would end soon.

But then pattering footsteps came from the loft above and a blond head poked over, “Mommy...whose at the door?”  Her child’s voice cut through the silence like a knife, and Brona tried quickly to quiet her half-asleep daughter with her terrified eyes.

“Peggy...” the voice whispered, and she saw the recognition cross her daughter’s face, “Let me in...let me in.”

“Papa?” Young Peggy’s voice pitched with excitement, “Mama, let Papa in!  He’s come home!”

Brona screamed, “Peggy no!”  But it was too late.

A smell of decay wafted through the cracks in the door, and the hinges creaked as it swung open, slamming into the wall with a gust of wind from the storm.  Brona could barely believe her eyes.  Silhouetted by the night was her husband, just as she remembered him.  Dressed in his regalia, he stepped heavily into their home, one foot stomping loudly against their floor—the other dragging.

Brona backed into a table.  “Peggy run...” she cried, but she didn’t hear her daughter budge.

“Peggy run!” She managed enough fear into her last words to scare her daughter into action, and then her former husband was upon her.

Brona remembered being told of his death a fortnight prior, how she had yet to break the awful news to their only daughter—but now she would know.  Peggy would watch as the creature that was once her father tore away her mother’s throat with his gnashing teeth and as he began to devour her face.  Soon more men came crawling into the home smelling like death and also eating her mother.

Peggy ran to her window to escape the noise of bones breaking and the chomping of meat.  She flew open her shutters.  The stench of rot and fire was in the air as the village was in chaos.  The young girl was surrounded by the dying screams of her neighbors, doors splintering, and the failed attempts to fight back these blood thirsty creatures.  They too had been seduced by the voice of their loved ones, not knowing they were letting in a monster.