Chapter 27
27
Samantha
Ramone’s heart sounded like it wanted to burst through his ribcage. My own pounded in my ears as I reached for the blanket and dragged it over my hips. His body felt like a furnace, but I still wanted the comfort while the aftershocks of our lovemaking shook my legs with small, involuntary movements. The little twinges made me uncomfortable and if he noticed, he didn’t mention it. He held me by a fistful of my hair, trapping me as if he were worried I’d escape.
Just when I began to fear he’d fallen asleep, he moved away, mumbling something about water and pressing a kiss to my forehead. He left the room, and I sat up, trying to gather my thoughts. There was nothing in my past, or anything I’d imagined for my future that could’ve prepared me for the events I’d experienced today.
My eyes drifted to the crystal ball, and I cast the covers off my lap and walked across the room. I stopped in front of the dresser where Ramone had placed the sphere, leaving it nestled in a sweater I’d neglected to put away.
Drawn to the quartz ball, I stretched my hand out, smoothing my fingers over its glassy surface. The sphere looked different than it had where Ramone had taken me, almost as if whatever powered the mysterious object had been evicted, booted out during its transportation to my home. My palms glided across the crystal as thin wisps of a foggy substance began twitching inside the globe before coiling like a snake and expanding.
Transfixed, I stilled my touch, gazing into the depths. I watched as the ether filled the interior and then my vision faded to black.
Images careened before my eyes, snapshots of individuals I’d never met. One scene depicted a woman with two small children, seated at a rough-hewn long table, eating bowls of soup. I watched as the woman stood up and walked over to a massive, open fireplace to scoop food from a suspended pot into a bowl. The occupants’ clothing appeared older, reminding me of colonial reenactments I’d seen on school field trips when I was younger.
Fascinated, I saw what appeared to be blood begin to trickle from the corners and seams of the ceiling in the vision. The woman and children were oblivious as the substance became thicker and more invasive, painting the walls an ominous shade. The urge to warn them was present, despite the knowledge what I observed was merely an illusion.
The projection in my mind changed, switching to pictures of destruction. Broken buildings, bubbling swamps, buzzing insects, and tattered bodies were spread out before me. My heart was hammering away in my chest, my pulse racing as I scanned the scene in front of me. The picture moved on and a short, hunched over figure was seated on a chair, greasy hair falling forward and a childish laugh echoing around my head. Startled, I tried to close my eyes—and maybe I did, but the image remained the same.
When the invisible hand that held me hostage to the strange scenes let go, another image materialized. This one was in a beautiful home, the furnishings elegant and rich. I saw a brocade-covered sofa with a woman lain out, and Ramone bent over her, his lips parted centimeters over her neck. My breath caught in my throat as I watched something floating through the air, leaving her body. It swirled around him like a delicate fog before he inhaled. The woman grew still, her arm dangling over the side of the couch. Her body seemed to shrink a tiny bit. He sat down and pushed her onto the floor, moving her out of the way as if she were a toy doll.