Page 1 of The Silence of Hell

Prologue.

Chatter

Chatter stared down at the text message in his hand. Clio had clearly lost the plot; he was not buying that at all. He didn’t give a shit it was Isla’s birthday, or that she was desperate for one. Let another brother buy it.

Chatter did not do dolls!Fuck that. He’d rather roll around naked in honey near a bear cave.

No way was he hitting a toy store.

Chatter yanked his phone out and pulled up a shopping site. He scrolled through until he found what he needed and then hit buy. If Isla wanted that damnable thing, Clio and Chance could get it. If it came anywhere near him, Chatter would burn their house down.

Fuckin’ dolls.

???

Chatter looked on as Isla opened her presents, babbling happily away. He had his arms folded and was ignoring the looks from his brothers. They were all hanging on to see if he’d bought the possessed item.

Let them, he thought. He’d got Isla something so much cooler.

Isla opened his present next and squealed when she saw the size of it. She tore into the paper and looked confused.

Clio sat up straight and leaned over. Her jaw dropped, and she stared at Chatter.

“A remote-control dump truck?” Clio gasped.

“Yup.”

“That’s a boy’s toy!” Clio hissed.

“No, it ain’t. Girls can play with them, too. Isla come to Uncle Chatter,” he said.

Isla’s bottom lip trembled. “I wanted a Baby Peach Doll.”

“No, you didn’t. Do you know what dolls were made for?” Chatter asked.

“Chatter, don’t you dare!” Clio squealed.

“Chatter!” Chance thundered, but Isla had inched forward and shook her head.

“They were created to hold the spirits of dead people, their ghosts. You don’t want dolls. They are evil things. Now this,” Chatter shook the dump truck, “is fun.”

“Dead people?” Isla demanded, her eyes opening wide.

“Yup. Get rid of all yours. They’re bad, honey,” Chatter confirmed.

“How could you?” Clio exclaimed as her three girls turned to face her with horror on their faces.

Chatter unwrapped the truck as Clio and Chance tried to undo the damage. Chatter didn’t care. No dolls in this clubhouse!

“Look,” he said, settling Isla on his lap and ignoring his laughing and horrified brothers. Little girls were wailing across the room about bad dolls and ghosts coming for them. As far as Chatter was concerned, he’d done his job and educated them.

He showed Isla how to steer the dumb truck and pointed at Levi, who was building a house of cards.

“Ram it into that,” he whispered.

Isla steered it forward and crashed it into the table. Levi’s cards fell just as he placed the last one. He turned with a yell, and Isla began laughing.

Chatter grinned at the scowl Levi levelled at him. His job was done!

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