Vanessa MacNeil
Stories (2)
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The Agreement. Content Warning.
"I don't believe," Roland said aloud to the empty room. "Not any more." The study was dark, the computer long since turned off for the night and the only light came from the crack beneath the door. Roland sat at the desk listening to the ticking of the wall clock, waiting. A cold bead of sweat ran down between his shoulder blades and he shivered, then shook his head slowly. This was ridiculous, he told himself. He hadn't had the nightmares in years and wouldn't have thought of them at all today if he hadn't come across the note in his mother's attic as he was emptying it out. It was discoloured, chewed upon by rats or whatever other denizens lurked behind the paneling in the old house, but it still carried the message in untidy childish scrawl: Give me more time. Even the black crayon had begun to fade.
By Vanessa MacNeilabout a year ago in Fiction
The Price
At 1:37 pm the doorbell rang. She was late, which was already enough to rile me up after she was so adamant about getting the appointment right away. She had sounded young over the phone and her desperation had been palpable, making my own heart race in panic as she spoke so I agreed to see her. Something told me I shouldn't, but I told that part of me to shut the hell up and let me make some money.
By Vanessa MacNeil4 years ago in Fiction
