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Blog Serial – Janeil Harricharan

Blog Serial

Author’s Note: This was supposed to be a short episode for the end of the month, but actually ended up being just as long as a regular blog serial installment. So I apologize for not have the additional illustrations that would go along with such a lengthy piece. That aside, please do enjoy!

It was one of those odd times that Heather had actually experienced. Usually she was late, stumbling into the kitchen sloppily dressed. But this particular morning she actually had woken up in time with the rest of the household. The air was cooler, having sent her sleeping deeply the previous night. The daylight had changed and now resembled early in the afternoon. Her whole body knew that a change of season was upon them.

Today’s tasks were a bit mundane, mostly with clearing fallow grass from the back garden. There might be an errand into the inner town for Elizabeth, but only time would tell. At least she was able to take Fluff up and about.

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Hi everyone,

Finally wrapped up the production early this morning! You are now free to listen to the drama to your heart’s content. Go ahead and visit the project page below.

Likewise, if your heart so desires to tote this MP3 around with you for your phone when you’re bundled in for the evening, you may download a high-quality, 320kbps version of the drama by signing up to my mailing list! Not only will you receive the MP3, you’ll also get a special-edited eBook edition of my short horror novella, The Haunting of Rotherwood as well.

The Screaming Well: Audio Drama

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Hello readers!

Despite my ongoing situation of getting full-time employment in the IT/graphic design/game development field, I still plod away at my projects at some pace or the other. Some faster than others, some frequently hitting the back burner for weeks at a time.

This is one of those projects that went a bit slower, but thankfully was short so it wouldn’t take more than 6 months to complete. >.>;;

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Heather tromped down the steps, finally finished with her last task of folding linens. The weather was a little warmer to her disliking, and she could hear a bustle of activity from the shop. Her arms were weary, glad to finally take a small break.

“Chores, chores, chores. I wish I’d get something else to do,” she muttered.

It had been over a month since the attempted kidnapping had taken place. The abductor was quickly caught, and a hastily gathered group of men had managed to hunt down the large creature that they had squared off against. A search had also taken place for the man who had sold her Pipp, being cited as the one responsible for the other creature as well.

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Despite a week passing, Heather still couldn’t forget the words said to her at Elizabeth’s doorstep. She kept a wide berth away from McCally at all times just to be on the safe side. This was mostly in public; Heather never knew what the woman could do to her, so it was better to stay safe than sorry.

Pipp was still being lively as ever. He hadn’t grown a whole lot and would probably be in trouble if he got into a scuffle with a cat. However a small change start to set in. Pipp seemed more calculating and reactive to those around him. It was like he was thinking a lot, able to mirror off the moods of the people around him. He could tell if they were happy, sad or frustrated and react accordingly.

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Little did Heather know what good food and a night’s sleep could do to someone. Or something.

The next morning had barely passed when shrilling but quiet screeches woke up everyone in the house. Pipp was up and about, head sticking above the top of his box trying to get out.

More food and water were given, and Pipp “began” his day. Despite his small size, he pattered behind most everyone like a duck, not letting anyone out of sight. He was a bundle of energy, rapid thumping audible as he ran across the floor. Janus discovered that he would “chase” a ball if given, playing tag with the toy becoming a regular activity.

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West Hills. Why did it have to be West Hills?

Heather trudged down the dirt and gravel path that led out of the main section of Ellowwood. A twenty-pound bag of wheat was in her arms, having been tasked to deliver it to an elderly couple out on the west side of town.

And not just west town, West Hills. Outside the town charter, maybe half a mile towards the heavy forest and where the island ended. Where more weird stuff lived, causing her imagination to freak out about what she could randomly encounter. It didn’t matter if it was late afternoon and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky; the area still carried the same kind of connotations to it.

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Heather stood at the outside of the blacksmith’s shop, her thoughts a total mess. She had elected to wait outside, letting Janus return the rope they had borrowed. The last thing she wanted to do was to explain to someone what had happened. And she knew that the friendly blacksmith would ask her questions of what she actually did with the rope.

The door creaked open, Janus coming out down the steps.

“Did he take it?”

Janus nodded. He looked a bit somber himself, as if the joy had been wiped from his face. That look alone made Heather’s heart ache, hanging her head as she shuffled along behind him.

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Heather could hear Janus making his way down the hole. She waited pensively, feeling quite alone. How far had Janus gone in? Would he be all right? What was making the glow?

She wished he could’ve taken a lantern with him. Heather didn’t doubt that he had a source of light to go by, but it would’ve put her mind in ease. Her mind was overthinking what could happen or lie in wait.

She paced back and forth a little, listening the best she could. After a moment she looked up back at the hole.

“How are you doing? Are you all right?”

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“What do we do now?” Heather asked softly. The question was mostly to herself.

“What do you mean? You’re the one who wanted to come out here.” Janus’ voice had a bit of scolding in his voice.

Heather’s cheeks flushed. “Just…thinking out loud to myself, I suppose.”

She straightened her posture a bit and went forward, coming to the edge of the well. It had aged, covered with a bit of moss and lichens. The mouth was six feet across, cobblestone cemented together. Heather gripped the mouth, looking over.

The well went down a ways, but she could make out a puddle reflecting light out on the bottom. The walls also seemed to narrow but didn’t match up with the dirt that was barely visible.

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