The Tidings - [Ghost Huntress 0.5 - A Christmas Novella] Read Online Free PDF Page B

clock so distinctly when it sits in the front hallway downstairs?
    I scramble out of my bed and move to the window seat nearby. I ball my hands up and gently rub my fists into my eye sockets to jostle myself awake. I swear, as I peer out the window, there is frost and snow on the panes. It couldn’t be, though. The forecast didn’t call for any sort of Winter Wonderland for our holiday celebration.
    Something outside doesn’t appear normal, though. The moon is full and shining brightly up above, however it’s not casting a shadow on my lawn. Instead, creepy, swirling tendrils of fog surround my house, slithering up the sides and beckoning to me with vaporous fingers. I wrap my arms around myself against the chill that crosses my skin. My flannel pjs aren’t doing much to help keep me warm.
    “Then get back under the covers, dumb ass,” I say to myself.
    Following my own lead, I dive back under the comforter and tug it up tightly to my chin, dislodging Eleanor and Natalie who are sound asleep at the foot of my bed. They grunt little cat sounds out at me, but return to their napping.
    Thoughts of a bathroom run or even a sip of water fade away as I try to go back to sleep. I flip onto my side and pull my knees against my chest, nestling under the blankets to try and get warm. Then, the weirdest thing happens.
    The grandfather clock chimes again.
    Bong-bong-bong-bong-bong-bong-bong-bong-bong-bong-bong-bong.
    Twelve? Again?
    “It’s already rung twelve times.”
    What’s going on? That clock is an antique, but it’s never broken, or messed up the hour like this.
    Then, everything flashes white bright.
    I jerk my arm up to cover my face, bracing for whatever onslaught has hit. My entire room is bathed in a near-blinding spotlight pointed directly into my eyes. Dust particles dance in the air as the intense light beams on me. I swat around with my hands, as if that’s going to do any good.
    It’s not.
    “Give me a break!” I shout, to who or whom, I don’t know.
    Wham! Bam!
    The light disappears and I hear my bedroom door creak open.
    Slowly….
    Slowly….
    Slowly….
    “Who’s there? Mom? Dad? Kaitlin?”
    “It’s none of them.” The voice is indistinguishable as male or female to my ears.
    A peculiar figure enters my room. It’s not a kid, but it’s not an adult either. It’s just this white, floaty, ethereal thing. It’s as though I need a prescription for contacts or glasses; everything around me is blurred and distorted as I try to distinguish who or what this is at the foot of my bed.
    “Who are you?” I demand.
    “You know me, Kendall,” the voice says, very childlike.
    Before me, the image begins to sharpen. The straggly mess of hair suddenly smooths into stylish golden curls pinned back with glittery diamond-like combs that shimmer and shine. The wrinkled and gray complexion becomes ivory and young and vibrant. Blue eyes, like freshly mined sapphires, twinkle beneath gorgeous dark eyelashes. The figure’s hands traverse up its front as if taking note of the flowing white robe with gold brocade trim. Bare feet with a perfect French pedicure show from underneath the garment, toe rings sparkling on each foot. The robe is belted with ropes of what appear to be pure, spun gold from a fairy tale. A knot of white roses, blue orchids, and baby’s breath are bunched in the figure’s right hand. Finally, a gorgeous, glitzy crown of mountain-peaked rhinestones appears on the head of the apparition.
    If I weren’t so jealous of the jewels and bling this specter was cloaked in, I might be doing everything in my power to jump out the window to get away from this creature.
    “Wh-wh-who are you?”
    The faceless spirit says nothing. It only laughs. Not even a laugh, but a giggle.
    Then it hits me. Maybe the convo in the cemetery wasn’t in my mind.
    “Are you the first visiting spirit Farah told me about earlier tonight?”
    “That I am,” the voice says. She says.
    She. It’s a she.
    My furious