The Eyes Of A Fetch 201-220

The Eyes Of A Fetch (Excerpt 220) Proof

Lyla is doing a good job at covering up her fear as not to worry her dear friend. However, she is scared to death that something is lurking here in her home, something that wishes to do her harm. Several miles away in the cottage, both Crispin and Quinn stand face to face in the living room and an argument begins.

“What have you done, Quinn?” asks Crispin as he grabs Quinn’s arm with considerable force. Crispin has not raised his voice but his tone is forceful and demanding and his hold is solid. “I gave you proof.” Quinn says smugly. “Proof? Proof of what?” says Crispin with aggression, his voice becoming potent. He stands there, holding Quinn’s arm as he tightens his free hand into a fist. It is all he can do to hold back from hitting the elderly man in the face. The fact that Quinn does not seem intimidated angers Crispin even more.

“Lyla is afraid of you, I told you she would be, and if you don’t back off she will be piecing it all together very soon. She will remember everything, the good with the bad, and I don’t believe the outcome will be in your favor.” States Quinn as he stands his ground. He tightens his eyes into tiny slits.

Excerpt 220

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The Eyes Of A Fetch (Excerpt 219) Agreeable

“Did you see something or someone in the house, Lyla?” asks Marcus; again, he glances over at Destry. Lyla thinks to herself that this must be how Marnie feels. Everyone looking at her in a strange way as they glance around making eye contact as if saying yes, she is crazy as a loon.

“No, no, not at all. I’m sorry you guys, it’s just that Marnie has been out of sorts, acting a little strange, and she has wandered in a couple of times since I’ve been back. That’s all.” Replies Lyla as if this were no big deal. “Maybe we should stay with you tonight.” States Destry as she looks to Marcus for approval.

“No, no, I’m fine. Really.” Lyla says, as she shakes her head no. “You two head back to the loft and get settled in. We can hook up tomorrow.” She looks at Marcus and since they have known each other for many years, all it takes is one quick glance and he understands her completely.

“Okay Destry, that’s our queue to scoot out of here.” He says as he stands up. Destry stays put and just looks at him shocked that he is so agreeable. “Seriously, she’s good to go.” Marcus reaches out to Destry and she takes his hand as she stands up next to him. “You call me if you need anything, even if you just need some company, okay?” says Marcus intently to Lyla. He then slips his arm around Destry.

“Aye aye cap’n!” states Lyla as she continues to stay seated on the settee. She raises her hand and playfully salutes Marcus. “Now get out of here so I can tidy up and get to bed.”

Excerpt 219

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The Eyes Of A Fetch (Excerpt 218) A Little Dazed

Before she fainted, Lyla remembers seeing green eyes, but whom or what was the thing that attacked her? Did she actually see a black brooding form transform into a man? On the other hand, is her tired mind simply playing tricks on her? Is she going mad like Marnie?

“But. . .?” questions Marcus in a long drawn out way. “What?” Lyla says as if confused.

“You said you found Smokey in the small nook, but. . . and then your voice trailed off.” He pauses for a second or two for her to respond but she does not. “Maybe we should get you to a doctor, you may have a concussion.” Marcus states as he looks at the side of her head for a bump. Reaching up, he softly lifts small sections of hair away from her scalp.

“No, I think I’m okay, just a little dazed. I don’t know what happened; I think I just over did it today.” Lyla slaps Marcus’ hand away from her head and he laughs.

“Well that proves she is perfectly fine, she’s got the fight back in her.” Marcus laughs as he hands Lyla a glass of water. “By the way, after we got you settled here I had to practically search the entire house for Smokey, but we found her.”

“Was anyone in the house?” questions Lyla then she quickly realizes how odd that must sound. “I mean, Smokey hadn’t gotten out or anything, right?” Destry looks at Marcus as they both find Lyla’s questioning to be strange.

Excerpt 218

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The Eyes Of A Fetch (Excerpt 217) Last Memory

“I thought I heard talking, you okay Lyla?” Destry asks as she enters the sunroom with a fresh washcloth in hand. Lyla opens her eyes and smiles as Destry switches out the cloths.

“Sorry. You two should be unpacking and resting up instead of looking after me.” Lyla says as she slowly sits up. “What time is it?”

“Nine o’clock.” Replies Marcus. We got in an hour ago but after numerous tries at trying to reach you by phone, we decided something must be wrong. Sure enough, we found you out cold.” Marcus says as he brushes a few strands of hair away from Lyla’s face.

“What happened?” asks Destry as she takes a seat on a nearby chair.

“I’m. . . I’m not really sure.” Replies Lyla as she tries to remember what led up to her last memory. “I remember finding Smokey in the small nook in the kitchen, but. . .” and that is when she recalls the black mass surrounding her as it pulled the air out of her lungs.

Excerpt 217

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The Eyes Of A Fetch (Excerpt 216) Bruised

The gentle rainstorm has now become more aggressive and loud as it moves across the area. Straight away, the dull brown grass of the lawn begins to transform into a bright healthy green color. The heaviness of the rainwater causes springs wide array of blooms to hang heavy on their stems as everything becomes saturated. Large beads of water cling to the leaves of the trees and plants until the droplets grow too weighty and fall with a splash onto rain soaked surfaces below. Along the streets of the town, wind chimes ring and tinkle as the breeze blows in from the southwest bringing with it warmer temperatures.

Lying on her back, Lyla hears the shift in the wind as her chimes respond with a joyful clanking sound. Her forehead feels cold and she reaches up touching a damp washcloth. She then hears a familiar voice.

“Are you okay?” questions Marcus as he leans over her. He grabs her hand to keep her from removing the cloth from her forehead. “What?” replies Lyla in a weak manner. “Can you open your eyes?” questions Marcus with much concern in his voice. “I think you passed out.”

“Marcus?” says Lyla as she opens her eyes and tries to sit up. “Oh no you don’t, not so fast.” He replies. He holds her hand in his while trying to keep her in a relaxed position. Without much of a fight, she lies back on the settee and closes her eyes again. That is when the pain sets in, her head is pounding fiercely and her shoulder feels bruised as it pulsates with each heartbeat.

“I think you took quite a beating,” states Marcus. “I’ll have to take that up with your kitchen floor. That nasty booger got the better of you!” This statement makes Lyla laugh and then wince with pain as her head throbs even more. “Sorry, didn’t mean to inflict more pain.”

“Ouch, I know.” She says softly.

Excerpt 216

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The Eyes Of A Fetch (Excerpt 215) Made Of Stone

Lyla knows this oppressive mass is the same obscurity that tormented her while in Madrid. She is experiencing a similar intensity of fear, but even more so now. This is terrifying, exhausting, and she feels as if the very soul of her being is fading from her body. “Is this how I’m going to die?” she thinks to herself.

Suddenly before her eyes, this mass of black churning smoke begins to pull together and it forms into the shape of a man. Gradually, two eyes begin to appear and glare at her with hate and anger. Little by little, the clarity of them increases with intensity, as they become a piercing and intense green color.

Lyla wants to scream with all her might but the air does not come. Her lungs feel as if they are made of stone and any sound she attempts to make is unavailable and void. She knows she can no longer fight this horrifying presence and her body grows limp.

The last thing she hears is a loud hiss from Smokey followed by a deafening shattering sound that fills her head. Sharp pain radiates in her left shoulder as her body falls hard against the cold kitchen floor.

Excerpt 215

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The Eyes Of A Fetch (Excerpt 214) Compression

“Oh you poor little girl!” Lyla states as she picks her cat up. “Are you okay?” She holds Smokey close and takes her over to the cabinet where she keeps the cat food.  “How did you end up in there?” She questions as she begins to open a can of food. She quickly glances back at the little door that is standing open.

Smokey did not just find her way in; someone must have put her in there but whom? No one is here other than herself, but then again, she has been asleep. Could someone have entered her home while she was napping? Did Marnie come back and somehow manage to get inside?

The little pantry is open about four inches and for such a small area, it appears very dark and mysterious. Lyla halfway expects a creepy little troll to step out of it. While Smokey is eating, Lyla walks over to the small space and once again hesitates to look inside. Slowly she peers in through the cracked door but immediately pulls back. She feels as if she must work fast to keep something from escaping. Slamming the door, she quickly latches it shut.

Lyla turns and stands up when engulfing her instantly, is a dark shadowy mist that generates immediate fear. It consumes the entire nook where she is standing. This shock causes her to inhale rapidly and with great pain building in her chest, she finds she is unable to exhale.

A crushing intensity surrounds her body as she realizes she is holding her breath but she so desperately wants to breathe. Now adding to the pain is a thickening compression in her throat as if strong hands are squeezing her violently around the neck choking her last breath away.

Excerpt 214

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The Eyes Of A Fetch (Excerpt 213) Scratching

On her way across the expansive foyer to the kitchen, Lyla calls out for Smokey. Usually this tubby cat is within earshot and always ready to eat on demand but this time she does not come running.

“Smokey!” says Lyla loudly but again there is no response except for a strange scratching sound. “Smokey?” She questions as she enters the kitchen through the swinging door. There it is again, an abrasive cutting noise. It sounds like it is coming from the area of the little door that leads to the attic. Lyla flips the kitchen light on brightening the room and again she calls out. Finally, there is a response. “Meow!” pleads Smokey from inside the little cubical.

“Oh my gosh!” Lyla says as she hurriedly runs to the little door. “How did you get in there?” She quickly pulls the screwdriver out of the latch and Smokey dashes out of the dark space in a rush.

Excerpt 213

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The Eyes Of A Fetch (Excerpt 212) Eyes Upon Her

By now, it is growing dark outside and the house seems to be closing in on Lyla. She feels stifled in some way as if she cannot freely do as she pleases. Trapped is too strong a word but there is something, something that is not right. She is hopeful that the rain does not delay Marcus’ flight; it is not as if she was going to see him or Destry tonight anyhow, but she certainly does not want them to have an extended trip due to the weather. She wishes he were here to talk to, he has always been the one to turn to for support, no matter the reason.

Lyla stands there in the middle of the dining room vulnerable to the now overwhelming feeling of eyes upon her. As she looks around at the darkening area, her thoughts go to Marnie with her extreme mood swings. Lately, she goes from somewhat acceptable behavior to paranoid and delusional. In addition, what did she mean about bringing death to their town? What is she referring to? Penny? How could she even say such a horrible thing? Penny’s death was the result of a terrible storm. It was an accidental death and nothing more.

Excerpt 212

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The Eyes Of A Fetch (Excerpt 211) Strange Images

Lyla rolls the blanket back into a pillow like ball and leaves the living room. As soon as she steps into the foyer, she feels as if someone is in the dining room to her right. Turning, she looks at the painting hanging over the fireplace and it instantly makes her feel sad.

“What is up with you?” she walks toward it. “Why do you make me feel blue?” she asks as if talking to a person, she then shakes her head. “Okay, I’m acting like a crazy person again. Now I’m talking to artwork.” She steps up on the hearth and touches the dark wooden frame of the painting. With a sudden rush, she feels dizzy and as she turns around, she finds the dining room full of people. Music is playing and she can hear laughter throughout the room spilling out into the foyer. The entire place smells of rich vanilla candles and fresh rain.

As she looks out at the crowd, there is an enormous crashing sound of thunder. It causes the entire house to shake as it rumbles for what seems to be an extended amount of time. With another bright flash of lightning, the house grows dim and the power goes out leaving clusters of candles glowing throughout. Lyla blinks from the burst and as she opens her eyes, she finds herself alone in the center of the room. As she glances at the window, another strike of lightning hits very close by followed with thunder that is louder than the rumbles before. Still, this is nowhere near the intensity of what she just felt in her vision.

“Why do I keep seeing these strange images?” she asks herself.

Excerpt 211

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