Read Online A Night To Remember by Paige Williams - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Paige Williams
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step inside to get a better view of the room-- they had to have a phone somewhere. As soon as I called my parents I could retreat to the relative safety of the dirt road and take my chances with the snakes and hoot owls. At that moment, a man stepped forward. H e seemed to magically materialize in front of me , though I realized he must have been hiding in the shadows . Still, t aken unawares, I let out a girlish scream and jumped back.
The man before me--if indeed it was a man and not one of Lovecraft's twisted imaginings come to life--was stooped and clothed in what looked like sackcloth . And the smell ! L et's just say it was on the far side of ripe. He kept nervously casting his gaze about the room , never letting it rest on the same spot for more than a moment. With furtive birdlike gestures he beckoned me to step f ur ther inside the gloom - shrouded room.
Um, not likely . Maybe I had broken all the horror movie " Dont's " but there was a limit.
I shook my head and tried to smile. " I can't come in but I am in trouble and in need of your help. My car broke down ...," I began, but at that moment there was an ear-splitting screech, as though wrung from one of the tormented denizens of hell , and the sound of beating wings filled the night. Whatever manner of abomination had just awoken, it was heading straight for me and the open door . The doorman's face blanched and he began to shake, staring out into the darkness at a spot directly behind me.
"It is coming, you stupid child. Come in! Come in!" As he shouted he grabbed my arm, knocked me off-balance, dragged me inside and slammed the door closed behind us. Although my contact with his body was mercifully brief I had the fleeting impression of something twisted and disarticulated shifting under his robes.
* * * *
In the eerie half light of the entryway I examined my new acquaintance. In his stooped state he stood only a little taller than my 5' 3''. His face was scarred and twisted, his body encased in robes of coarse burlap, the kind used to make sacks . Suppressing a shiver, I tried to smile at him and hold his shifting gaze, but he kept turning to look behind him as though expecting something large and deadly to creep up and devour us if he didn't give the space constant attention.
I never thought I would miss one of my Dad's lectures, but if that was the price of this nightmarish scene going poof I would gladly pay it. If I hadn't taken my stupid shortcut I'd be scarfing down some of Mom's awesome profiteroles -- whipped cream and chocolate sauce -- and listening to Dad grouse about how no one respected the Old Ways anymore; that's how he said it, always capitalized, like it was the name of an ancient God who must be venerated. Mom would scowl at him and give her head the tiniest of shakes with a meaningful glance my way, Not around the child, Dear . It used to bother me, what Dad did, but I've given up trying to reform him; like I had any chance of that . I work for him, but not that way; I'll never be one of the boys.
M y host laughed, a fluttery inhuman sound that reminded me of the excited beating of bat wings. "Forgive my manners, we don't often get visitors. My name is Franklin. Please d to meet you ."
" O h, er , no problem ," I said, reluctantly extending my hand. " My name's Rosaline ."
He reciprocated by extending something more claw than hand. I took it and shivered. It felt slimy and I tried to wipe mine off on my trousers without him noticing.
" Car trouble is it? Yes?" My host, excited, hiccupped and fixed me with what, I realized, was his only good eye. His other eye was swollen, rimmed in red, and reminded me of the ghouls and goblins I see every Halloween at my front door. And the smell! I tried not to choke. It was the too - sweet smell of sickness and corruption.
I managed a weak smile. "Yes, my car broke down miles back and my cell isn't getting a signal. I would appreciate it if you 'd let me use your phone to call my folks and
The man before me--if indeed it was a man and not one of Lovecraft's twisted imaginings come to life--was stooped and clothed in what looked like sackcloth . And the smell ! L et's just say it was on the far side of ripe. He kept nervously casting his gaze about the room , never letting it rest on the same spot for more than a moment. With furtive birdlike gestures he beckoned me to step f ur ther inside the gloom - shrouded room.
Um, not likely . Maybe I had broken all the horror movie " Dont's " but there was a limit.
I shook my head and tried to smile. " I can't come in but I am in trouble and in need of your help. My car broke down ...," I began, but at that moment there was an ear-splitting screech, as though wrung from one of the tormented denizens of hell , and the sound of beating wings filled the night. Whatever manner of abomination had just awoken, it was heading straight for me and the open door . The doorman's face blanched and he began to shake, staring out into the darkness at a spot directly behind me.
"It is coming, you stupid child. Come in! Come in!" As he shouted he grabbed my arm, knocked me off-balance, dragged me inside and slammed the door closed behind us. Although my contact with his body was mercifully brief I had the fleeting impression of something twisted and disarticulated shifting under his robes.
* * * *
In the eerie half light of the entryway I examined my new acquaintance. In his stooped state he stood only a little taller than my 5' 3''. His face was scarred and twisted, his body encased in robes of coarse burlap, the kind used to make sacks . Suppressing a shiver, I tried to smile at him and hold his shifting gaze, but he kept turning to look behind him as though expecting something large and deadly to creep up and devour us if he didn't give the space constant attention.
I never thought I would miss one of my Dad's lectures, but if that was the price of this nightmarish scene going poof I would gladly pay it. If I hadn't taken my stupid shortcut I'd be scarfing down some of Mom's awesome profiteroles -- whipped cream and chocolate sauce -- and listening to Dad grouse about how no one respected the Old Ways anymore; that's how he said it, always capitalized, like it was the name of an ancient God who must be venerated. Mom would scowl at him and give her head the tiniest of shakes with a meaningful glance my way, Not around the child, Dear . It used to bother me, what Dad did, but I've given up trying to reform him; like I had any chance of that . I work for him, but not that way; I'll never be one of the boys.
M y host laughed, a fluttery inhuman sound that reminded me of the excited beating of bat wings. "Forgive my manners, we don't often get visitors. My name is Franklin. Please d to meet you ."
" O h, er , no problem ," I said, reluctantly extending my hand. " My name's Rosaline ."
He reciprocated by extending something more claw than hand. I took it and shivered. It felt slimy and I tried to wipe mine off on my trousers without him noticing.
" Car trouble is it? Yes?" My host, excited, hiccupped and fixed me with what, I realized, was his only good eye. His other eye was swollen, rimmed in red, and reminded me of the ghouls and goblins I see every Halloween at my front door. And the smell! I tried not to choke. It was the too - sweet smell of sickness and corruption.
I managed a weak smile. "Yes, my car broke down miles back and my cell isn't getting a signal. I would appreciate it if you 'd let me use your phone to call my folks and
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