Chapter 1 #2
My hair was wrapped around my other arm, and I disentangled myself as I tried to recover. After today, I was going to be sore for weeks. A thirty-year-old body took a lot longer to recover than a thirteen-year-old.
When I lifted my head, the pale man was crouched in front of me, resting his arms on his knees.
“Fuck,” I said. “I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to trespass.”
He lifted a single eyebrow and glanced at the wall before staring at me again.
“Okay, yeah, I meant to. But I didn’t know anyone lived here.” He didn’t say a word. “Does this place belong to you?”
“It does not.”
I stood and he followed my motion. “Okay then, umm, I’m going to go now.”
Turning back to the wall, I checked for a way back over. The pain was starting to set in, and I really didn’t feel like climbing. The inside of the wall seemed to be in much better repair than the outside.
“How...?” The man was watching me closely.
Very closely. Goosebumps skittered up my spine under his perusal, and his nostrils flared slightly, as if he’d caught a scent on the breeze.
It nearly made me want to sniff my armpits, but I knew I didn’t smell bad.
My vanilla amber perfume and lotion were on point.
His mouth moved like he was sliding his tongue along his teeth, and I had the distinct feeling I was running out of time. He wasn’t someone I’d be able to fight off. He was over a foot taller than me and probably weighed close to twice as much as me.
“Fuck,” I muttered, walking along the wall again.
Finally, I gave up. “I’m just gonna...” I trailed off, gesturing toward the front of the house and began moving
He was in front of me. I didn’t see him move, he was just there all of a sudden. A breath huffed from my lungs. “Excuse me,” I said, glancing downward. I couldn’t handle the way he stared at me.
“You can’t get there from here.”
“I can’t climb over the wall. I thought, well, you said this isn’t your house, so how’d you get here? I just want to go.” The sun was beginning to set, casting long shadows over the two of us.
The man lifted two fingers, motioning me to follow. There wasn’t anything else I could do. I did check for large sticks or rocks, but for a deserted property, it was very well cared for.
He stepped onto a stone pathway, and we climbed three short steps before he opened the door.
I followed him inside before I realized what I’d done. When I spun around, he slammed the door shut and my stomach sank. Sweat broke out around my hair line and by now, I was really praying my deodorant didn’t fail me.
I sincerely hoped the state of my armpits wouldn’t be my final thought before my demise.
I was in a forgotten building with a man who wore more makeup than I even did to my prom.
Not to mention the fact he was dressed like some kind of version of Gothic Victorian London.
His clothes were gorgeous, almost as good-looking as him, but handsome didn’t equal trustworthy.
Every woman knew that. The chance of me dying in the next ten minutes was way higher than my chance of getting home.
He moved past me, beckoning me once again and dutifully I followed, casting one last longing glance over my shoulder.
Would anyone bury me? Would I become just like the bones I collected?
We passed a dusty kitchen and several closed doors.
One room looked like it was straight out of one of those hoarding television shows except it had what must have been tens of thousands of dollars' worth of computer equipment.
There were monitors, hard drives, and two desks like whoever worked here had a job with the government spying on citizens.
The man stopped without turning around. I could feel him waiting for me and he started moving again when I did.
Trying to take stock of my surroundings, I examined everything—you never knew when the knowledge would come in handy. There were old paintings on the walls, glass sconces with flickering lights, crown molding, and paneling. It was gorgeous though a heavy layer of grime sat on most surfaces.
“They should hire a cleaner. This place is crazy dusty.” I stopped walking, distracted by a narrow table full of multiple items. There were brass seafaring instruments, little glass jars with silver filigree scrolling up their sides.
An unidentifiable taxidermized bird with red and yellow feathers. And then there were bones.
When they first started fascinating me, I couldn’t be sure.
I just knew they were cool because when they were properly cared for, they were beautiful.
Bones were foundations. People spoke of the bones of houses and buildings, the plans they made for their lives, basing it all on a solid structure.
Our bodies were no different. Good bones made everything work better. And they were pretty.
The skeleton of a small animal stared at me, its structure supported by elegantly molded brass. A skull that appeared suspiciously human-like was set on a golden tripod, with pieces of quartz shoved in the eye sockets. “That’s brilliant,” I muttered. “And appropriate.”
The man was ahead, waiting for me yet again. He turned around slowly and glanced down at whatever had gotten my attention. His expression softened, before hardening again into a stiff mask as he began slowly stalking toward me.
“You need to leave. Now.”