The Hill Has Eyes Franklin の小説・ストーリー

“Don’t they?” “No.” I looked up at him. “All that matters is Evangeline. Keeping her stable. Keeping her alive as long as possible. Getting the heir we need.” Franklin studied me carefully. “You’re allowed to feel things.” “Does Evangeline smell different to you?” I asked abruptly. He frowned. “What?” “Her scent. Have you noticed anything strange?” “No,” he said slowly. “She smelled normal this morning. Why?” Because to me she smelled like rot. Like sickness.

I walked onto the grass, my legs feeling shaky but the fog in my brain finally starting to lift. I headed toward the stone bench near the fountain, Franklin trailing three paces behind me. He was watching me like a hawk, but his posture was slightly less rigid. "You've been with them a long time, haven't you?" I asked, sitting down and letting the cold stone seep through my jeans. "The Hales." "Twelve years, miss," he said, standing with his hands clasped behind his back. "And is this how it always goes? He decides he wants something, and he just... buys the world until there's nothing left but him?"

When his wrinkled eyelids peeled back, there was no white left in his eyes. His eye sockets were packed with clusters of tiny red eyeballs. As he finished swallowing the last of the bloody intestine, a slit opened in one of the deep creases on his face. An eye stared out from within it. Then another, and another. Each one was crammed with writhing red eyeballs. A black lamb wandered into the yard. The moment it saw Frank, it tried to flee. It never got the chance. Frank grabbed the lamb by the head and tore the top of its skull clean off.

Franklin watched from several feet away. A slow smile crossed his face. “So…” “You finally made it.” James didn’t return the smile. “You’ve been leading us here from the beginning.” “I’ve been waiting.” Franklin corrected. “There is a difference.” Darrien’s eyes narrowed. “We’re done playing games.” “So am I.” Franklin replied calmly. “For twenty-eight years I’ve watched people protect secrets they never understood.” His gaze settled on Charlotte. “They’ve told you just enough to fear me.” Charlotte’s expression hardened.

“You have until tomorrow morning. Vote with us, or lose everything you pretend to care about.” Franklin stood up slowly, his legs shaking. He looked at me with pure hatred burning in his eyes. “I hope you burn in hell,” he spat. I smiled, calm and cold. “I’ve already been there, Franklin. Your turn is coming.” He stared at me, eyes wide and glassy. “You are a monster,” he whispered, voice trembling. I tilted my head slightly, studying him like a wounded animal. “No. I am the woman cleaning up the mess your precious Ethan created.

Beautiful and expressive eyes. - End of Flashback- Franklin made a promised to catch her killers

What was it he had inside that attracted so many flies and that smelled so bad? She found out soon. She didn't even have to untie the bag as it wasn't tied. All she did was open the bag, took a peek inside and her stomach dropped. She was going to be sick. She knew it. Clutching her stomach, the slices of bacon she'd eaten earlier didn't stop pouring out even as the image didn't leave her head. Oh, God. What had she seen? Why did she have to see something so awful? The image would stuck forever. An image of a headless Bruno —her neighbor's dog that's been missing for a week— lying in a pollen bag at the side of her window.

Her soft and pink lips trembled as tears leaked out of her closed eyes. Her eyelashes were long and made her green eyes look breathtakingly beautiful. Now that her eyes were snapped closed, Andreas had the urge to see them again. Those were definitely the most gorgeous green color he had ever seen. It was weird, how he felt something for this little sacrificial lamb of his. She was just a child and yet she was evoking foreign emotions in him. He had never felt this way, before. As soon as he realized what he was here for, he gritted his teeth and pushed his gun against her set skin, brushing it and almost breaking it. He was quick to snap out of his thoughts.

Then, with quiet understanding, she said: “Oh.” At that, Richard Franklin felt a shiver ice through him. He merged off 20 and took the exit a little too fast, jaw muscles working. The bizarre scene below them came into view again as they descended the spiraling ramp: there and gone, visible and gone once more. “This thing didn’t do much good, did it?” He made a last attempt, toying with the Yankee Candle air freshener looped over the rearview mirror, twirling it for her. “I still smell that skunk in here.” Finally, mercifully, the sinkhole site and whatever brand of nightmare occurring there disappeared behind them, fading back into the surrounding cornfields as he motored away.