Phantom Voice

The rain beating on the hood of the car and the cold November air were calling me closer to sleep. I needed to get off the highway and to a hotel pretty fast. I frantically searched for an exit sign. About twenty minutes later, I spotted that familiar green glow. There was a city called Friarville only 2 miles away. I was a few days early getting to my next job, so one night wouldn’t hurt me.

Driving through Friarville took about two minutes. It was one of those places you see in scary movies, with one street filled with houses and a larger building at the end of the street, on a hill. Not a single light was on in any of the houses, and I was certain that if I drove up to the big house, a man carrying an axe would chop me in two. In my line of work, you always had to expect the worst, but this place actually scared me. I had to get some sleep though, so I drove up the hill, to the only building with lights shining through the rain.

The larger building was the house and business of the local undertaker. According to the shining placard hanging next to his house, his name was Joseph Friar.

This is just my luck. The undertaker of this backwoods town is the richest and the one it’s named after. I bet his family even had that exit sign put out on the highway.

I took the keys out of the ignition, turned off the lights, and prayed for God to help me live through the night as I climbed out of the car and raced to the front porch of Mr. Friar’s domain. The door knocker was a miniature coffin.

I decided to knock with my fist, not wanting much to do with death on a night like this. (more…)