Read Online Dirt (The Dirt Trilogy) by K. F. Ridley - Free Book Online Page B

never been explained to
me, my imagination has no limitations about what would happen if
I miss a dose. Death is insinuated. If not death, I know the
consequences would be bad. I recall all of those times I complained
about the yellow muck, now I wish I had it. In the loneliness of my
destruction, I wish I could taste the bitterness of the yellow syrup,
the hope it gave me, the peace it gave Dad.
Anticipating the arrival of the infamous Straif, I start to believe
waiting is going to be a part of his torture, a part of my suffering.
Crisp against
the floor, I
hear
each footstep
distinct and
echoing through the massive room. From behind one of the large
pillars, a tall blond man with a wickedly flawless face swanks onto
the platform. I wouldn’t say he’s beautiful, because of the evil that
evaporates from his skin, but splendor hides underneath what’s on
the surface. His black robe floats behind him. He is statuesque and
sure of his space. Turning to face me, he sits down in one flowing
motion, graceful and intentional right in the middle of the platform.
He stares at me saying nothing. The massive room fills with
deafening silence. I look at the three behind me who wear anxiety
in the creases of their eyes. They’re obviously unsure of what will
become of them now that their leader has arrived.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you, my Ashe. Ashe Leigh Fair.”
I turn back focusing on the dark voice at the front of the room.
“Who are you? Where am I? What day is it?”
“Whoa, whoa. Wait a minute my dear. One question at a time.”
He’s not endearing. His voice is twisted and infected. He appears to
be one who would enjoy a slow methodical torture of whatever
victim, whatever sacrifice he may have on hand. Consequently, I’m
today’s special. “Perfectly understandable that you have much to
ask. I’m Lord Straif. Leader of The Dark Thorn. In regard to your
second request, welcome to my humble abode, the Conul Cuan
Caverns. You’ve been asleep for two days my dear, so to answer
your real question, there are seven days left until the celebration of
our life and your death.” He pauses. “Unfortunately.” His deep
voice is calm and straightforward.
I hear the slow agonizing tempo of another set of footsteps
enter the room. A black cloak covers the man who makes the sound
of hard feet pressing into the black marble floor, and I notice the
green emerald glow of his eyes. Professor Bran stands on the
podium staring at me as if he knew I’d be here. How did he get
here? What was he doing in Missoula? I tremble as I realize he’s
been a part of this all along. What is his role in my ....my... death
going to be?
“Well, well, well. I
see
you’ve
made
it,”
he
says with
arrogance. He’s proud of himself. I keep my mouth shut. He
doesn’t have the same effect on me he had before. Now, he’s
repulsive.
His enchanting methods to lure me in satisfied his plan.
I’m here and that’s all he wanted.
I’ve got to get a handle on what’s going on, what’s about to
happen. I need to keep quiet and try to figure out what I’m up
against. I’m not dead yet. I’m not going to give in to them, not until
I haveto. Not until it’s my only option. Still, beyond all hope I try
to remove the speck of doubt seeping through my brain; the
uncertainty of what I might become. I’m the sacrifice of all living
things. I hope there is a way to overcome this nightmare that isn’t a
dream at all. There has to be a way to survive. I’m not giving up on
life easily. Rowen gives me hope that there is more to life than what
I’ve known. Where is he? Is there even a reason to fight? I relive
our moment in the hut, the completeness that absorbed me. He is
worth any battle I might have to face.
Straif elegantly rises to his feet.
“Well done, Bran. She arrived in plenty of time.”
Bran remains behind his leader quiet and sure of himself. Straif
steps off the
podium
and approaches me face-toface. He’s a
skyscraper