15 Amityville Horrible Read Online Free PDF

outfit, she’d been dead nearly a century.
    “You can’t be hurt,” I said instead. “Tell me what you see and I’ll—”
    “He’s coming! Hide!”
    She darted through a closed door. I ran to it and turned the knob. It wouldn’t open. I threw my shoulder against it, a move I’d seen Jeremy and other werewolves do all the time, one that works far better if you have super-strength. Pain slammed through my shoulder. The door didn’t budge.
    On the other side, the girl screamed. I twisted the knob again and shoved the door. It flew open so suddenly I stumbled through, tripping, my heels flying from my hand and clattering to the cement floor.
    The girl screamed again. I looked up to see her crouching in the shadows, the room lit only by the light from the hall. I patted the wall for a light switch but couldn’t find one.
    I started forward. “It’s okay. Whatever you’re seeing, it isn’t real. You’re—”
    She screamed and fell back as blood blossomed on her beaded dress. A jagged hole appeared, blood seeping through. Then another one, as if an invisible knife stabbed her. I raced over, but there was nothing I could do. I couldn’t see what was attacking her. I couldn’t fight it. I couldn’t drag her to safety.
    I tried reaching out, but of course my hands just passed through her. All I could do was stand there, babbling that it wasn’t real, she would be okay. The knife kept plunging in until the whole front of her dress was shredded and bloody. Then, finally, she dropped to the floor, and the blows stopped.
    I stood there, breathing hard, shaking as I stared at her crumpled body, waiting for it to fade. Instead, her arms twitched. Then one reached out, clawing at the concrete.
    “Help…me…” she whispered.
    “If you can hear me, it’s okay,” I said. “Just hold on. It’ll all be over in a second.”
    She lifted her blood-freckled face. Her dark eyes met mine. “Why didn’t you help me?”
    “I can’t,” I said, crouching. “I’m so sorry. I don’t know what’s going on, but you’re…you’re out of your time. Whatever happened to you it was very long ago—”
    She reached for my foot, hand passing through it. Then she looked up at me with her tear- and blood-streaked face. “Stop him. Please stop him.”
    She disappeared. I took a deep breath. Then I felt a draft behind me, a sudden whoosh of air, and I spun to see the door closing. I raced toward it, but it slammed shut, plunging the room into darkness.
     
    …
     
    I didn’t give up on the door for a while. It hadn’t wanted to open earlier, so I told myself it was just jammed again. As for how it slammed shut, well, I’d felt a draft, hadn’t I? That or the foundation was crooked and the door swung shut because of that. When it comes to anything potentially paranormal in origin, I’m the worst skeptic, always searching for natural answers. That may seem perverse, but knowing the supernatural exists makes it too easy to jump on paranormal explanations. It’s like people who religiously watch ghost shows and interpret every creaking board and groaning pipe as a sign that the dead walk among us.
     
    So I kept yanking on the door. The handle refused to even turn. Next I searched for that missing light switch. The room was pitch dark without even a sliver of light coming under the door. I systematically felt my way along all the walls. Still no switch.
    Finally, I did what some might argue I should have done when the door first shut. I took out my cell phone. Admittedly, the faint glow of the screen did help and I used that for another round of the tiny room, but saw no light switch or pull cord hanging overhead.
    As for using the phone to actually call someone, that might be the obvious solution to my predicament, but I wanted to be absolutely certain I couldn’t get myself free first. Getting locked in an inn basement was not going to help my reputation at all.
    But the door wasn’t opening, and the light was staying