Eric Watson: Look For a Sky of Blue

1.2K 111 29

It was now morning, but the sun was still missing. Birds flew beneath heavy-leaden clouds, forming abridged crosses with their wings. They gathered and swarmed, trying to find a safe place to fly to. Eric looked up at them, hoping they would find that safe place. It would give him hope, but with the absence of light, that hope was overshadowed by fear.

The power outage in the town made his visit to the hospital with Tiffany, Justin, Christina and Carmen longer than they wanted. He was sleep-deprived, hungry, and still in pain from the wounds inflicted upon him in his most recent adventures. He rested on his knees, praying. His eyes remained relentless against blinking, and he stared straight at the gravestone in front of him.

Willa Anderson. Beloved wife and mother. Shenae's mother.

Eric stretched his arm to touch it. Some of it had decayed badly over the years, but the writing was still perfectly legible. This was the woman he had killed, and ever since he remembered that moment he pushed her, it hadn't stopped haunting him. Almost every minute flashed by with her name in his head. Willa. You killed Willa. Killer.

The cuts and scrapes covering his body were mostly due to his recently deceased girlfriend, and here he cried for her. Shenae had no grave; her body a pile of ash now in the basement of a cabin he cared not to return to. The moment she died replayed in his head as he prayed for her. He prayed for her soul. She tried to kill him, yet he understood.

His hand tumbled to the grass and dirt around the grave. Eric wasn't sure he could hold himself together for much longer. So much death, so little time. And now, complete darkness in Lakefield View, and he knew that death was still on the horizon.

Shenae's face flashed through his thoughts. He tried to think of genuine moments they had spent together as a couple, of all the times they'd went on date nights and had passionate sex after. Now everything was tainted with her deception. Her confession of hate towards him only deepened Eric's depression. He found it difficult to think of anything else.

It wasn't pitch black in the town of gloom, but rather a constant state of dusk. The sun was somewhere behind the clouds, and nothing came through, but it brightened the clouds a little, allowing some vision without the constant need of a flashlight.

The streets remained deserted, and businesses refused to open without their power. Some generators worked, but they wouldn't last. Eric's mind wandered to the Pandora Café. He could open for a few hours; the back-up generator would allow power enough for the coffee machine he was sure would desperately be needed by the residents. If the café was the only place open, then he was sure to get good business.

Upon leaving the hospital a few hours before, the five friends promised to meet at the café at 8am. He looked at his watch. The time was fast approaching.

Eric struggled to stand. The bones in his knees made an awful cracking sound as he stretched. Rubbing the dirt off his jeans, he took one last look at the grave, and promised to never return.

The graveyard was empty, as expected. He anticipated the appearance of the grounds keeper, Peter. Then he remembered the despicable things he did to Tiffany, and was relieved that he was dead.

The patter of wings was the only other sound Eric could hear. A gradual gust of wind began to pick up once he reached the huge iron gates of the graveyard. It almost felt like the burial ground did not want Eric to leave.

A chill flowed through him as he exited. He looked back, though he could only see so far before complete darkness engulfed his line of vision. He was crazy for visiting the graveyard during the town's latest problem, but he knew he had to close that chapter of his life for his own sanity.

Rise of the Ripper (Abyssal Sanctuary #3)Read this story for FREE!