Excerpt: At the End of Church Street by Gregory L. Hall
Enjoy reading an excerpt from AT THE END OF CHURCH STREET by Gregory L. Hall.
AT THE END OF CHURCH STREET
by Gregory L. Hall
I watch the rain reflect off the streets of this city. My city. My home in a long line of homes. It rains every day here in Orlando. Like clockwork. Barely drizzle now, it’s not enough to affect the number of tourists walking around downtown.
Orlando is a strange place. Every city in the world has its own personality, good or bad. But not Orlando. The Little Town that wants to be a Big City. It lacks personality because its existence is based solely on catering to tourists coming in from all corners of the Earth. Tourists who blend into one faceless, nameless crowd.
I guess that’s why she stands out. She’s not a tourist. And although no one in this moving mass of people notices her, I do…
***
The small, frail girl stood invisible by the payphone. Soaked and dirty, she had obviously been living on the streets for some time now. Not the first homeless or lost child in this city. She pushed the long strands of dark hair from her face as she dug in the pockets of her cut-off jeans. Four quarters. A nickel. Three pennies… Penny. Enough for one last call. Maybe Penny would talk to her this time. She was fully aware of how badly her hand shook as she pushed in the last numbers.
Two rings book-ended a long pause and then: “Hello?”
Her throat went dry. No response escaped.
“Hello? Who is this? Rebecca, is that you?”
Tears flooded her eyes, blurring her vision for a moment. She wiped them away and hung up the phone. It was ungraceful. She looked around, expecting to see someone in the surrounding crowd laughing or staring. Maybe looking away as they shook their head in pity, avoiding eye contact so they would not have to be involved. She expected to see something. Anything. But, all she found was nothing. Not a soul knew she existed. She was truly invisible.
Her throat constricted, catching her off guard as the pain came forth in another flood of tears. She tried to stifle the sobs but knew it was a losing battle. Not here, she thought. Not like this, with all these people. This was not the place where she could do what she knew she had to do. If she was invisible, let it stay that way. Let them find me long after I’m gone.
As she headed back to the darkness of her alley ‘home,’ surrendering to its cold and heartless embrace, a pale teenager looked up from the reflection of city lights off rain-splattered streets. His long black coat was out of place in the warm spring night. But, no one noticed. He was truly invisible as he silently followed the girl into the shadows.
***
The sounds of the city continued—bad bar bands mutilating Jimmy Buffett or the latest Top 40 song; a horse and carriage clomping on the cobblestone streets at a grotesque cost per ride; drunken, happy tourists coming off their afternoon buzz, loudly segueing into another wild night of bar hopping—all interrupted by the sounds of screams and a chainsaw.
At the end of the street, a small group burst out of a haunted house attraction, spilling onto the sidewalk with laughter. In the doorway, an actor dressed as Leatherface waved a chainsaw in the air, taunting the long line of patrons waiting for their turn to face the terror inside. He gave a final swing at the fallen group, receiving one more scream before disappearing back into the flashing lights and smoke behind him.
Adam stared at the victims with a slight smile, revealing pearl-white fangs. His dark blue eyes widened as he stroked his hairless chin. He loved being the street barker for the House of Horror. Every night filled him with a rush of energy. There were times he couldn’t believe he actually got paid for dressing up and playing outside host to the endless stream of people pouring through their gate. Most were folks looking to test their bravery. Some were true horror fans, who couldn’t leave Orlando without paying their respects. But, to Adam, everyone was the same. Fans he could entertain just by being himself.
He swirled his stylish black cape out into the night air and raised his prop walking cane. He stood dominating his surroundings, this despite his thin build and barely twenty-something age. He turned his head and quickly selected a visibly nervous woman in line to focus upon. He stared unblinking through the back of her head. The woman unconsciously moved backwards and slid behind the safety of her husband’s wide frame. The crowd laughed at her reaction, and Adam felt the surge of power once again.
“Good mourning, Milady. Welcome to the House of Horror! Do you have your organ donor card with you?”
She let out a squeal and squirmed further behind her spouse. The crowd rejoiced in her fear. Adam continued boring a hole through the husband’s round body, so as not to break eye contact with his victim. True to form, the woman peeked up over her husband’s shoulder to see him still staring. She let out a scream and buried her face in his Mickey Mouse T-shirt. Not even in the attraction yet, Adam thought, and I have her scared out of her wits.
He threw his head back and let out a villainous laugh, mocking the terror awaiting them inside. It echoed past the rooftops of the surrounding buildings.
BOOK INFO
At The End Of Church Street
By Gregory L. Hall
Fiery Seas Publishing
October 4, 2016
YA Dark Fantasy / Horror
Homeless, Rebecca finds a family of lost souls just like her- The Vampires of Orlando. Reborn, she revels in the lifestyle of ‘no rules’. Love whoever you want. Seek whatever high you wish. Live forever young. Every night’s an adventure-hunting down tourists, challenging local police, screaming to the world vampires really do exist. It’s Neverland.
Until the first murder.
There’s someone else hiding in the shadows. Goths are found beheaded, with wooden stakes pounded into their chests. The hunters have become the hunted. As the bodies pile up, Rebecca and the Family are forced to ask who do you turn to, who can you trust, when the only person who believes you’re an actual vampire is a vampire killer?
AMAZON ~~~ BARNES & NOBLE ~~~ KOBO ~~~ iBOOKS
Gregory L Hall has a long history in comedy, theatre and improv. He is a national Telly Award winner and creator of the Baltimore Comedy Fest, which supported Autism Awareness. Many fans know Greg best as the host/producer of the popular live radio show The Funky Werepig.
As a writer his work has appeared over the decade in various publications, anthologies and a short story collection. His novels rarely stick to one genre, ranging from comedy and romance to intense thrillers and horror. His biggest claim to fame is he was once hugged by Pat Morita, Mr. Miyagi of The Karate Kid. We should pause an extra moment to realize how awesome that is.
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