Homecoming (Small Novel)

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic

Chapter 4 (v.1)

Submitted: May 06, 2013

Reads: 58

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Submitted: May 06, 2013



Chapter 4: An unfortunate accident


It was late on Wednesday night when Mrs Burns got a phone call. Panic immediately struck her because she had never received calls this late and without her husband around she couldn’t help but feel powerless. “Hello Mrs Burns?” She tried to reply but her mouth was dry and the words struck her like a foreign language she didn’t understand. Moments passed which acted like hours as she finally drew the words from her lips, “Yes, Mrs Burns speaking?” Yet another moment of silence before the voice started up again. “I’m afraid there has been an unfortunate accident regarding your son Thomas Burns.” Suddenly it was like her legs had turned to heavy steel as a thousand different scenes played over in her mind, she knew she shouldn’t have let her husband take her son out shooting. The anger boiled over as she gathered the strength to reply to the man. “What happened to my son?! Is he alive?” She didn’t want the answer to the question but then again she did. She closed her eyes and awaited the man to reply to her request. “Your son is fine ma’am it’s your husband unfortunately he has taken a critical gunshot to the front of his skull, he died instantly at the scene, I’m terribly sorry for your lose ma’am.” Her husband, it took a moment for her to collect the information she just received. How did her husband get shot? She wrote down the address of the place where she was required to go and confirm the body.

She arrived at the new grove morgue around midnight where two police officers were waiting for her. “Follow us ma’am if you please.” Lights slowly lit up the long silent corridor as the sound of footsteps echoed loudly. The room brought a cold chill to her spine, she hadn’t been given the chance to see her son yet but here she was about to possibly see her dead husband. The white sheet masking the horrors beneath had a dark red stain around the facial area of the body. The police officer grasped the sheet and slowly pulled it away from the already smelling flesh. The site of her husband lying there lifeless was not the reason why poor Mrs Burns gaged, but the graphical and gruesome way on which he had left the world. A large messy entry point on the head indicated that the bullet had entered from an angle which clearly was displayed on the demented head of the man. The wound had been wiped clean but even in its cleanest off moments the horror would be there to haunt her for life. “Take me to my son.” The tears had formed a steady drip on her red face. A slight relief came over the widow as the breeze from the cold air pressed against her face. There sat little innocent Tom Burns from the distance the widow glared at her blood covered son, and Thomas Burns just sat there with a cheeky but horrific Grin plastered across his face.

© Copyright 2017 Gerry Fedele. All rights reserved.


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