Chain Letter
An eerie email lands in your inbox. The subject line is simple. The message is a dire warning—forward it or face a terrible fate.
Most people would delete it, a reflex born of endless spam.
But what if this time, the warning was real?
In Stephen Simpson's Chain Letter, a seemingly innocent act of hitting delete unleashes a deadly curse.
This is the chilling reality for Marlene, whose untimely death is just the beginning.
Her daughter Lisa and daughter-in-law Adèle refuse to accept a simple explanation, plunging them into a desperate investigation. Their search for answers uncovers a terrifying secret: a connection to an ancient high priestess, a cursed heritage site, and a supernatural force that is using modern technology to hunt its victims.
Will they break the chain, or will they be its next link?
Chain Letter is a heart-pounding journey into the intersection of technology and the supernatural. If you're a fan of young adult horror that makes you think twice about your digital life, this is one book you won't be able to put down.
You’ll receive your eBook instantly after purchase (PDF + ePub formats included) with instructions for reading on any device—even Kindle!
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Book Details
Imprint : Fiction for the Soul Books
eBook ISBN : 9781393540809
Paperback ISBN : 9781393446910
First Published Date : 30 August 2010
Language : English
Pages : 120
Words : 20,304
Reading Age : 14 years and older
Format : ePub & PDF (you own the files)
Read on : Kindle, Apple, Android devices, Google Play Books, Nook, Kobo eReaders, Computers.
Delivery Time and Method : Downloads will be emailed immediately upon purchase.
Keywords : Young Adult Fiction, Paranormal Occult Supernatural, Young Adult Mysteries, Young Adult Thrillers, Young Adult Suspense, Young Adult Supernatural, Young Adult Horror, Young Adult Science Fiction
Read an excerpt
LONG AGO
Sparks, like bright orange fireflies spiral into the sinister darkness of the night sky, as if funnelled up by an unseen hand from the huge fire in the centre of the imposing mud huts build around it.
The ridges of the mountain surrounding these huts are darkly silhouetted against the black heavens. The heavy drumming and moaning of many voices echo up into the sky and then outwards into the night.
There are no other sounds, no night birds, no crickets, no frogs - they have all hushed their nightly serenades on this night where the moon hangs colossal, round and white in the sky, floating just above the horizon.
The thunderous, continuous rhythm of the drumming stops abruptly as if gulped down by an unnoticed mouth.
A woman walks into the circle. She is tall, pale, and beautiful. The moon reflects off her ebony black hair hanging down to her waist. As she lifts her long, elegant arms up into the air, she screams a blood-curdling scream.
Her face distorts as she screams, turning her once beautiful features into a nightmarish, misshapen façade. Her eyes are deep and black, and reflected within them are the deepest recesses of torment and misery.
She wears a loincloth made from the skin of a leopard around her hips. Her naked breasts sway with her every movement. Around her neck hangs a necklace of leopard's teeth, tightly strung together, representing protection.
Every living being in that circle, around that fire, falls immediately, their bodies flat against the ground. You can taste the fear, thick as peanut butter stuck to your palette.
The fire reflects and dances a frenzied dance in her eyes, making them sparkle with malevolence. She smiles in anticipation for what she knows is coming. Shivering and gyrating, foam coming from her mouth, her eyes roll backwards in their sockets, and she starts to mumble the same incoherent string of words repeatedly.
Six men walk into the circle carrying a wooden board. Their faces are turned downward, their expression and facial features hidden. The glow from the fire shimmers off their brown bodies, glistening with oil.
On the wooden board lays a girl of fifteen. She is dressed in nothing. Her hair is plait with the feathers of many coloured birds. Her face is painted with the warm blood of chickens. She is terrified and frightened.
Her moaning is now the only sound in this hushed space, surrounded by the imposing mud huts. She knows her fate and she has seen many girls go before her, the monthly ritual that feeds their god, a god with an unquenchable thirst for human blood. Her ankles and wrists are dripping with blood from where she fought against the ropes that bind her.