What The Shadows Know--The Vision of the Missing Girl, Pt.2 Ep. 9
Serialized Clean Supernatural Suspense Thriller
After being haunted by creeping shadows and disturbing visions, she accepts that she was marked at birth—cursed. But when she encounters a cryptic stranger, his riddles penetrate through the heavy veil of darkness and confusion.
In a world of magic and self-help, the brightest light reveals the blackest shadow once a possessed stalker starts hunting Beth and her family. Hell’s fury appears in both the flesh and the unseen realm, where trust is blurred, and deception is a matter of life or death. In an epic showdown to escape the entities seeking to destroy her, Beth must embrace a mysterious and ancient truth. One that will shatter everything she’s ever known.
Watch Beth’s slow burn from fringe to faith—terrorized to triumph—haunted to healed. For fans of novels by Frank Peretti and Colleen Coble. Expect a bumpy but redemptive ride—eventually.
Previous, from the last episode:
“Are you a Psychic?” A different reporter barged into her thoughts, her attention returning to the courthouse steps.
She scanned the group of press correspondents. Some took notes or adjusted their microphones to get closer to the podium. While others stared with faces turned up and waited. Journalists from major media outlets jostled for position to hear her answer.
Maybe Beth was a freak.
Unhinged.
And now everyone would know it.
But the police had found Amelia. Just as Beth had described it. And on a Friday before midnight, no less.
“A psychic? I wouldn’t say that,” Beth said, responding to the reporter. She didn’t accept that description for herself. That sounded too much like a career—a highly polished methodology or honed skill.
Yet her dreams and visions had happened more by chance than by craft.
Beth squinted as the blazing sun emerged from behind the clouds, baking the ground as it seemed to sizzle under her feet. Her cotton shirt stuck to her back as a swampy Georgia breeze blew across it.
The loud, insistent shouts from the throng of people clamored for her attention. Their equipment strained in the muggy heat, emitting a chemical smell of hot plastic and scorched rubber.
One reporter raised his voice, “Is your sister a psychic, too?”
Beth and Lily rarely talked anymore. Ever since they had gotten married, their lives had diverged in two different directions. It’d been years since their whole family was together. They only stayed connected through their mom, who provided news and updates.
“You would have to ask her,” Beth responded.
Beth searched the crowd again for her husband, ready for the interview to be over. But River was nowhere to be found.
“Ok, that’s enough questions. We’ll let you know what we find,” the police chief said.
Beth released her grip on the podium, stepping away as the Chief took her place. Blood rushed back into her fingers as if prickly pins were needling them.
The sonic weight of the crowd’s attention shifted to the Chief. He ended the press conference as the roaring onslaught of voices grew into a loud chant of “who’s” and “how’s”.
Another officer led Beth under the court porch with its stately white columns. Retreating from the crowd, her legs trembled in relief. The battering ram of voices became a unison of muted noise with no discernible words as they moved further away.
They slipped through a side door, down a hall, to a lower-level staircase, before exiting. Parked away from prying eyes, she saw her husband in the car, engine on, ready to drive off.
The officer ensured she was safely transferred, then rushed back to the building, without saying a word. Beth didn’t mind the officer’s quick departure.
Her brain felt numb as she melted into the seat. Adjusting the a/c vents, she blasted the cold air on her.
River barked the tires as he zipped off in typical fashion. Within a couple of minutes, they merged onto a busy road crammed with after-work traffic. Instead of slowing down, River sped up, jerking the car into the oncoming lane. The angry blare of horns echoed in protest.
He glared at the road. “You should’ve said ‘yes’,” he said, before swerving into the fast lane. “That you are a psychic.”
“I don’t feel like one.”
He glanced at her, “You missed an opportunity, Beth.”
“What opportunity?”
“Talk shows will pay us big bucks,” he answered. “Think of it.”
“I hate talk shows,” she said, gripping the door handle while he weaved through the traffic.
River kept scolding her, but Beth stared out the window. Eventually, the traffic gave way to patches of Loblolly pines and pecan trees. She yearned for sleep. Her mind had shut down, turning River’s words into a meaningless buzz.
Beth longed to curl up in her bed. Bury herself under her covers.
Their marriage was already hanging by a thread. They’d been friends since they were young teenagers. Among her many boyfriends, River had provided an escape from her father.
But then her father died.
At least when he was alive, her mom and sister needed each other. Once her father left, that need died with him. Their relationship splintered like an axe slicing through firewood.
Beth and Lily had grown accustomed to finding distractions away from home. Not much changed after her father was gone.
One of Beth’s escapes came in the form of meeting River at the bookstore to read what he called “New Age”. After one of her breakups, sitting at a table with books piled up in front of them, he’d told her how his mom believed in an astral “river,” and that’s where he got his name. From that moment, a spark was born.
They had jumped into a relationship, moving fast, as did most of Beth’s relationships.
Beth avoided too much solitude. She stayed busy with friends, work, music, writing, or the constant droning of a TV.
Anything to replace silence.
River’s mystique made him different than her other boyfriends. It felt like a sign, so they married.
But the mystery and New Age connection wore off. Beth lost interest. And his overbearing tactics to sway her to accept his spoon-fed guidance had pushed her further away.
Eventually, they lived like roommates. Any attraction she once had for him vanished.
She realized it’d been mostly physical anyway. But now she felt nothing except bitter resentment.
She had one consolation.
At least he didn’t hit her.
——///——
Months had passed since the police found Amelia.
Reporters and crowds now camped outside Beth’s suburban home south of Atlanta, instead of the courthouse steps.
When she peeked outside, she’d see the same charismatic reporter being the center of attention among his peers. With finely groomed hair and animated gestures, they gathered around him like moths to a handsome flame. Even from inside her walls, she could hear their laughter from something he’d said.
Another reporter, much older than the first, held a small notepad and pencil. Quiet and observant, he stood away from the prying collection of people. He scanned up and down the street without ever writing a word. Beth must’ve seen him on the local news station. He looked familiar, but many news people did by now.
All of them huddled on her street like a horde of Georgia gnats.
Reporters followed their every move, seizing opportunities to snap a picture or embellish a story for the next blockbuster headline.
Whether it was gossip, an awkward moment, or a demeaning pose, it made no difference. The more salacious, the better.
Anything to sell a newspaper or magazine.
Reporters chased her and River, running from their favorite restaurant or the gym.
A few times, their faces were plastered on the front of tabloids.
River blamed Beth.
The continual intrusion of cameras had persisted. En masse, tripods swarmed the curb of their front lawn
Buckling under the pressure, River had left.
He moved out.
The constant hounding and lack of privacy had annoyed him.
He abandoned Beth to face it alone. Scrutiny that he had invited. One that he had encouraged, insisting she go public.
Then there was the mail. Beth received some from curious spectators. Some wanted to know how she did it. While others cursed her. Said she was the spawn of evil and would burn in hell, where she “belonged”.
Or worse, some encouraged her to commit suicide.
But Beth hadn’t asked for any of it. She was not a psychic. Yet she had felt a duty to peer into the unseen, into the shadows, when the opportunity came. More of an obligation than anything else.
In the end, they had found Amelia.
For once, Beth was doing something important in the world.
Even if her world was falling apart.
Copyright (C) 2026 T.H. Meyer, Author. All rights reserved.
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Thanks for the restack!