The Storyteller, Volume VIII

Martha Whittington

 FormatISBN Price  
This Book is Available Electronic Book (E-book Instructions)9781425916503 $ 4.95
This Book is Available Paperback (6x9)9781425916497 $ 19.70

Martha Whittington invites readers to take a break from the doldrums of daily routine and delve into a world where ordinary lives are blindsided by the bizarre.

 

The Storyteller provides a feast of paranormal delights that satisfy the imagination through every intriguing tale, delving into the lives or a colorful variety of people who suddenly find themselves in unsettling situations.

 

Throughout The Storyteller, Whittington waves a macabre tapestry of drama, suspense and fast-paced action. From the dangers of the Egyptian desert to the cold streets of New York, she takes readers on a thrilling journey along the knife-edge between this world and the unknown. A captivating read for the fans of the disturbingly weird.

 

The Storyteller delivers thrills and chills at teach turn of the page.

 

Martha Whittington was born and raised in Monterrey, Mexico; at 21 years old she decided to ‘go see the world’; thus beginning an incredible tour around the world that lasted for a few years. She graduated from College majoring in Organizational Communication and has a Degree specializing in Public Relations.

 

She comes from a family of published writers; at a very young age Martha began writing short stories that made it to international Poetry and Short Novel contests.

 

Writing has always been a fun and loving hobby to her. She currently resides in the US.

Fragment taken from the story “The Fennigan Case”

The Storyteller, Volume VIII

 

 

 

“Andy…?” Jim’s voice softened some; he could see both men were somewhat distressed, but did not quite understand why.

 

Andrew looked back at the camera and seemed focused again. He said as he held his mike in front of his face, “Yeah, I’m here.… Listen, Jim, this place is somehow changing … It’s hard to explain how.… We are having problems with the air up here; it’s somehow thicker … hmm … thicker to breathe. And the temperature seems to have dropped some, too.… I don’t see any vents for a central AC but I do feel the cold air coming from somewhere around here…. Oh, Chuck says he feels it, too. Look, Jim, if you give us a chance we will wrap up the story as we go downstairs.… It would be more professional, I guess.… Tell us when.… Oh God! This place is so strange.… I could swear that the walls move.… It’s the wallpaper … the shapes …when the light hits the motifs, I could swear they move.… I’m sorry; don’t pay attention to what I just said. I guess I’m a little tired, that’s all. All in all, this place is very impressive. Just … just let us know when we are on and I will do the rest….”

 

“Okay, are you sure you guys are all right…?” Jim asked, somewhat concerned. He looked at Adam and Bryan and both men shook their shoulders in silence; no one could tell what was really going on over at the Fennigan mansion.

 

Andrew just nodded; he didn’t speak; his smile was long gone. Chuck did not seem to be in better shape; the camera shook as he breathed heavily and the last shots had been a little sloppy. It wasn’t like Chuck to do that, not at all.

 

Jim looked at Bryan again; Bryan shook his head as if saying, “Hey, don’t look at me; it’s your call.”

 

“Hi, I’m.… My name is Andrew … Wallace and we are live at the Fennigan mansion.… For those of you who have stayed with us for these past few minutes, we would like to let you folks know that we were unable to establish contact with the owners of this place … or any of the guests who might have attended a party that obviously … that obviously did not take place tonight … and … here … we are walking to where the staircase is … so we can go down. As you can see, folks, the eccentricity of this place is astonishing.… And so is the whole environment here…. Oh, Chuck, there’s no staircase over this end….” Andy turned to the camera; Chuck was about to stumble into him. Andrew said in a rather nervous voice —knowing all too well they were transmitting live, “We need to go back down this same corridor; it’s got to be on the other end.… Yes, yes … I know we came up from this very end.… I know.… Oh … sorry, folks, we are a little distracted here tonight. We have been experiencing equipment failure … and…. Did you hear that, Chuck? Hello? Anybody home? Hello…? I think whoever lives here must be having a lot of fun with us; they seem to be such pranksters…. Okay, we are sorry, Mr. and Mrs. Fennigan; we should have called before coming over. Hello? Can you hear me? Ah, but since you opened the door from the inside … well, we thought.… Okay, never mind. We are wrapping up this story now for you, friends and neighbors.… Oh my god! Where is the staircase…? Chuck, did we pass it already? Uh … what was that? Jim, listen: we can’t find the staircase.… Can you send someone over here to find us, please…?” Andrew said after a few moments. He seemed very disoriented.

 

“We can’t find the staircase!” Andrew repeated.

 

“What do you mean you can’t find the staircase?” Jim demanded, “It’s not that big a place; go back in your tracks, damn it! We are live here, Andrew!” Jim spoke to the mike with clenched teeth.

 

Andrew tuned around and stared at the darkness, as if he had just heard something again. There was steam coming out of his mouth and nose; it seemed to be freezing in there. Jim cussed and told Bryan to cut the signal and send it back to the studio at once.

 

Transmission to folks in town was cut off; no explanation was given.

 

“Andy, can you hear me? What the fuck is going on there? Stop fooling around! Andrew!”

 

Andrew seemed distracted —scared— looking around him everywhere; he was not interested in the place and its decorations anymore. He stared blankly into the camera, which was slightly sideways. Chuck was in bad shape, too.

 

Bryan told Jim, “Jim, we are back with the studio.… Our phone lines have been hammered for the last five minutes.… Viewers want to know what’s going on. What do we tell them?”

 

Jim was not listening to Bryan.

 

Andrew looked at the camera and said, “Jim…. It’s freezing in this place.… Chuck can’t hold the camera much longer. We are going to turn it off … just for a while.… That new battery Chuck just put in about five minutes ago is already halfway gone … and it’s so cold in here…. The noises around us won’t stop.… There’s someone somewhere around here … laughing.…”

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