[[THE ANNOTATED DIARY OF KEZIAH MORGAN (PUBLISHED WITH THE COOPERATION AND PERMISSION OF THE DARE COUNTY SHERIFF’S OFFICE AND MORGAN FAMILY) -EDITORS]]
I wondered if normal families had hangovers this bad after a funeral ceremony. The ones that drink a lot probably, but that’s from after the funeral I assume. This was just the funeral itself and I felt like the inside of my skin had been scraped clean.
“Did you visit the grave?” Lilith was washing some ash off of her face in the kitchen sink. I was sitting on the counter next to her smoking out the window.
“Yup.”
“Was it defaced?”1
“Yup.”
“Ingrates.”
“Fuckin’ yup.” Alicia left as soon as she shook off the funeral, had to go open the Charenton in town. I had a few bookings to get to over the next couple weeks, and Lilith was probably gonna fuck off the face of the earth for another six months. Nothing like a death in the family to remind everyone how little they feel like being around each other.
But that was fine. Alicia and Lilith could do whatever they were gonna do. I was getting back to work.
–
1- Grace Connelly had ability. She had wide eyed trust. Traits that can be taken advantage of by others. Someone with ability can be useful. Someone with wide eyed trust can be manipulated. When Grace Connelly joined the Holy Hermetic Revival in her youth, she spent a good many years being both useful to and manipulated by them. Grace Morgan had power. Power frightens people. And Grace Morgan had a lot of power. Not the sort of power that you lord over others, that puts money in your bank account or names streets after you. That was the sort of power Urbain Archer2 had. Grace Morgan had the sort of power that buries you in a mortsafe and makes people not even want your name said. People in our part of the Kill Devil Hills wouldn’t even refer to her as Grace Morgan. Because they were afraid of Grace Morgan. Grace Connelly made them feel good and did things on others’ terms. They wanted Grace Connelly, faith healer of the Holy Hermetic Revival. But Grace Connelly met Llewyn Morgan, and Llewyn Morgan saw the revivalists for what they were. They were glorified snake handlers and religious carnies that lucked into something real. They lucked into Grace Connelly. Llewyn Morgan didn’t free Grace Connelly, neither of them would stoop so low as to give him credit for that. She unlocked and opened her own door. But Llewyn Morgan was a light shining through the keyhole of the dark room the revivalists had her in. To hear the two of them tell it, he certainly swept her off her feet, but Grace Morgan was her own deliverance. Grace Morgan saw how Grace Connelly was being used, and the entirety of our childhood was under the shadow of her telling them all, with a smile, that all of that was over. People in the church may have hated Llewyn Morgan, but their fear of Grace Morgan ran much deeper.
–
2- [[As with many of the significant individuals in play at this point in the timeline, there is surprisingly little official material or media on Urbain Archer. There was a mention in some document of a radio interview he’d done in Kill Devil Hills, but no recording of said interview exists, aside from a silent, mostly degraded film clip -ED]]
A man wandered through a desert.
No path but the trail of his own footsteps behind him.
He saw a glimmering object in the distance, and found it to be a lamp.
He laughed and rubbed the lamp
But he found it to really be magic
A genie came out and offered him a wish.
He wished to live forever.
The genie nodded and with a snap of his fingers the man burst into flames and died.
His story is passed down and told to this day.
Did he not get what he wanted after all?
You’re looking to get to know our sisters better.
Wonderful!
You come on up to the house and knock on the door. Our sisters are not fun, but they will certainly entertain. You’re invited in. You were expected.
The first thing you notice about the inside of the house is the smell of matches.
You follow our sisters through the front hall and down the corridor. It’s lined with doors, all locked. None of them are for you.
At the end is the door for you, and it opens to a small library. Every book looks mostly the same, with a different name on the spine.
Our sisters tell them they will leave you to it, whatever “it” is, and let you alone in the library. You open a book and start to read.
“You’re looking to get to know our sisters better.
Wonderful!
You come on up to the house and knock on the door. Our sisters are not fun, but they will certainly entertain. You’re invited in. You were expected.”
You set it down and open another that begins the same way. As you look through more books, you begin to notice the differences. Some are more worn and faded, or are newer, fewer creases on the spine. Some of them are longer, some shorter. The binding may be uniform, but the more you look at the books, the more the differences become obvious.
As you pour through the library you notice that something in you tells you to stop before you get past the beginning.
Then you find the book with your name on it.
You pull the book away from the others quickly, so you can’t tell if it’s longer or shorter.
It starts the same as all the others, and you feel that cold feeling in the pit of your stomach when you start to turn the page. You read about yourself and the library, and you feel your pulse throbbing in your ears when you read about yourself finding your book.
That’s when you feel eyes. You turn and see the door standing open, and our sisters have come back.
The book goes back on the shelf.
Our sisters invite you to finish, but no. You came to learn more about them.
They smile.
You know, you just don’t want it to be true. So you can’t read on.
You just hope what you already know isn’t true.
You close the book.
You close your eyes.
And you waste a wish.
lich house 