Work In Progress: Screechers, Chapter 8

Echo searches for Nina

For a long time, Echo did nothing but breathe and listen. She could hear nothing beyond the dim howl of screechers, and even that was dampened in this cellar.

Echo knew she ought to retreat into the darkness, leave the entrance behind, but she couldn’t see—she had no idea what was around her. For all she knew, there was nothing there but empty air.

After a millennia of holding her breath, of no footsteps or gun shots, a new panic set in.

Darkness, thick and complete, heaved at her. Clawing closer with each heartbeat, it stole her breath and squeezed in from all directions.

And rapture seed. The smell was so thick, it filled her stomach. It filled her ears with Mother’s screams—You were at that filthy bar again! Screechers take you, Lorin! It filled her eyes with Arin’s papery skin. His black, exploded pupils. There was only hate in this smell. Only hate and death and grief.

Echo lowered to her haunches and curled in on herself. She just had to wait it out. She could do that—she had to do t…