3rd Person/Adult F/Adult M/older F - horror
Description
Vocal Characteristics
Language
EnglishAccents
North American (General) North American (US General American - GenAM)Transcript
Note: Transcripts are generated using speech recognition software and may contain errors.
Maybe it's the rain. Elizabeth Cotton sat uneasily that Sunday afternoon listening to the high winds and heavy rain pelt the windows and roof of the old church. She couldn't figure out why it troubled her. So she generally enjoyed rainfall and the soothing effect it typically had upon her spring was her favorite season when life seemed to blossom almost overnight. After a good drenching rainstorm, even thunderstorms never faced her yet. Something about this particular rainstorm unnerved her greatly. It was as though the heavy drops were intent on assaulting the old church steadfastly pounding against its exterior walls from all sides at once. Peculiar Elizabeth thought, scanning the large stained glass window to her left and then the one on the right. Indeed, the raindrops crashed into the window on the left from the left and the window on the right, from the right perplexing Elizabeth and causing her to frown, how could raindrops fall in two contrasting directions at once, less than 30 ft apart? She looked around the room at the other members of the congregation. They seemed too busy singing to notice. She fought the urge to interrupt the woman beside her. Mrs Adams and ask her opinion. She knew it wouldn't be wise. Mrs Adams had been a dear friend of her mother's though Elizabeth could not recall one single occasion when she'd seen the old woman smile. She was cordial but stern. Elizabeth turned to the man on her left, Scott Monroe. She considered asking him about the unusual rainstorm, but she knew that his wife who was seated to his left would have a fit. She had a choke hold on Scott. Ever since she found out about his extramarital affair. Nine months ago, a loud clap of thunder caused Elizabeth to jump in her seat and cry out in alarm. Several heads turned her way, their disapproving eyes glaring at her, including those of Reverend Sawyer who shook his head in dismay, turning to see Mrs Adams sneering. Elizabeth quietly muttered, sorry. Before joining in the singing, her voice was weak and tremulous as she felt self-conscious by the unwanted attention her outcry had caused. She sang the lyrics robotically. Her mind still focused on the bizarre weather phenomenon. Why didn't anyone else notice it? The song finished and Reverend Sawyer began talking about anger and forgiveness. Elizabeth tuned him out as the rain pounded against the church even heavier louder. She scanned the room. Surely. Someone must have noticed the turbulent storm. The light flickered and she frowned. The last thing she wanted was to lose power. You're being foolish. She told herself still irrational or not her fears persisted. Another clap of thunder caused her to gasp though she suppressed her urge to cry out. Incredibly, no one stirred or seemed to care. Reverend Sawyer spoke on without the slightest pause. Seconds later, the lights went out. It wasn't completely dark as several candles were lit, but they failed to sufficiently illuminate the room. Elizabeth felt her heart begin to race. An eerie silence gripped the room as Reverend Sawyer stopped speaking. Midsentence. Elizabeth turned to Mrs Adams a thin and unconvincing smile upon her face. I hope the lights. Elizabeth gasped loudly, then cowered down within her seat. As she stared up at Mrs Adams in horror, the woman's throat had been cut, her head was tilted back so that the gaping wound was wide open, spilling forth her blood in violent spurts, stunned Elizabeth stared at the ghastly side of the dead woman a moment longer before springing up from her seat to get away. She stepped to her left where she noticed that Scott Monroe was also dead. His head split open at the top of his skull as if chopped open with an ax. Elizabeth looked to Reverend Sawyer for answers for guidance, but it was clear from his outline in the dim room that he was in no position to help. His body was nailed to an inverted cross. Elizabeth could see him writhing in agony. His face contorted in unimaginable pain. Yet he didn't utter any sounds. Elizabeth fought the urge to vomit as she looked around the church at the mangled and mutilated corpses of men, women and Children. Each of them either dead or suffering mere moments away from their demise. She broke the silence with an ear piercing scream. The lights came on in a flash and Elizabeth shielded her eyes with her trembling hands. Could gracious Miss Cotton. What is the matter with you today? Reverend Sawyer asked, are you ill? Mrs Adams turned to her and snapped Elizabeth, still trembling and struggling to catch her breath, slowly spread her fingers and peaked at the annoyed reverend he was alive and well.