Read Online Gustav Gloom and the Nightmare Vault by Adam-Troy Castro - Free Book Online
Authors: Adam-Troy Castro
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shaking, and for long seconds stared out the window, as if seeing something beyond the fake horizon.
She took a step toward him.
Before she could even get close, he flung the photo out the nearest window. There was no glass in the window, so the only thing that shattered was the glass in the picture frame when it hit the fake blue sky outside.
He didn’t turn around. “Before I was seven years old,” he said, “I thought they were just on a long trip somewhere and would be back someday. Then I was old enough to hear the truth, and see that picture for the first time. He’s the one who killed my parents. He’s the one who made sure I became what I am. He’s the one who made sure I could never go past the fence and know the world you know. It was all him.”
Fernie drew close. “He doesn’t look like he was a shadow eater then.”
“No, not then. He was just a man. His full name was Howard Philip October. He wrote the same kind of books my grandfather Lemuel wrote, about ancient civilizations and evil spirits and elder gods and gateways to other worlds…the difference being that my grandfather actually made contact with the world of shadows, while Howard Philip October mostly just made up crazy stuff and claimed that he found it in lost ancient texts.”
Fernie struggled to keep up. “Where was he supposed to get lost ancient texts?”
“From what I’ve been able to put together, he just said ‘lost ancient libraries.’ And if you askedhim where he found the ancient libraries, he’d say ‘the lost cities of lost ancient civilizations.’ If you asked him where he found those lost cities and lost civilizations, he claimed to have found ‘ancient lost continents at the center of the Earth,’ but not many people went that far; you only have to ask that kind of question a couple of times to know the type of answer you’re always going to get.”
Fernie recognized this as the kind of answer that translated to “Because I said so,” one she’d never accepted as the response to any tough question, not even from her dad. “Okay,” she said. “And your mom and dad—”
“My dad,” Gustav said with an odd emphasis, “and the woman who
would have been
my mom.”
Fernie didn’t completely understand why Gustav was so insistent on the difference. “Okay. How did they know him?”
Gustav sighed, stepped away from the window, and sat on the edge of the couch, his hands clasped between his knees. “My father grew up here, living with the shadows and every other strange thing my grandfather invited into the house, and though he was used to all of it, decided that he didn’t want to spend his lifelocked up inside a dusty old mansion chasing other worlds all the time. He wanted to live a normal life, living in the world beyond the gate.
“So he left home, met and married the woman who
would have been
my mom, and for a few years traveled the world with her, never knowing when they returned for Grandpa Lemuel’s funeral that Grandpa had met October and considered him a dangerous man.”
“How do
you
know all this,” Fernie wanted to know, “if it happened before you were born?”
Gustav looked at his hands. “I was told. In this room.”
“By who? Great-Aunt Mellifluous?”
“No. Not her.”
“Then who?”
Gustav opened his mouth to answer and then fell back into an unhappy silence.
Sometimes, a terrible secret can be even bigger than the hole it leaves in the story around it. The identity of the person who had told Gustav about his parents—or rather, his dad and what he called the woman who
would have been
his mom—seemed like one of those secrets.
Fernie sat down beside him, saying, “It’s okay. Just tell me the parts you can talk about.”
He nodded gratefully and moved on: “My father inherited the house, and Howard Philip October got in touch with him, saying, ‘Hey, as long as you’re not using the place, can I stay there for a while?’ And my dad and the woman
She took a step toward him.
Before she could even get close, he flung the photo out the nearest window. There was no glass in the window, so the only thing that shattered was the glass in the picture frame when it hit the fake blue sky outside.
He didn’t turn around. “Before I was seven years old,” he said, “I thought they were just on a long trip somewhere and would be back someday. Then I was old enough to hear the truth, and see that picture for the first time. He’s the one who killed my parents. He’s the one who made sure I became what I am. He’s the one who made sure I could never go past the fence and know the world you know. It was all him.”
Fernie drew close. “He doesn’t look like he was a shadow eater then.”
“No, not then. He was just a man. His full name was Howard Philip October. He wrote the same kind of books my grandfather Lemuel wrote, about ancient civilizations and evil spirits and elder gods and gateways to other worlds…the difference being that my grandfather actually made contact with the world of shadows, while Howard Philip October mostly just made up crazy stuff and claimed that he found it in lost ancient texts.”
Fernie struggled to keep up. “Where was he supposed to get lost ancient texts?”
“From what I’ve been able to put together, he just said ‘lost ancient libraries.’ And if you askedhim where he found the ancient libraries, he’d say ‘the lost cities of lost ancient civilizations.’ If you asked him where he found those lost cities and lost civilizations, he claimed to have found ‘ancient lost continents at the center of the Earth,’ but not many people went that far; you only have to ask that kind of question a couple of times to know the type of answer you’re always going to get.”
Fernie recognized this as the kind of answer that translated to “Because I said so,” one she’d never accepted as the response to any tough question, not even from her dad. “Okay,” she said. “And your mom and dad—”
“My dad,” Gustav said with an odd emphasis, “and the woman who
would have been
my mom.”
Fernie didn’t completely understand why Gustav was so insistent on the difference. “Okay. How did they know him?”
Gustav sighed, stepped away from the window, and sat on the edge of the couch, his hands clasped between his knees. “My father grew up here, living with the shadows and every other strange thing my grandfather invited into the house, and though he was used to all of it, decided that he didn’t want to spend his lifelocked up inside a dusty old mansion chasing other worlds all the time. He wanted to live a normal life, living in the world beyond the gate.
“So he left home, met and married the woman who
would have been
my mom, and for a few years traveled the world with her, never knowing when they returned for Grandpa Lemuel’s funeral that Grandpa had met October and considered him a dangerous man.”
“How do
you
know all this,” Fernie wanted to know, “if it happened before you were born?”
Gustav looked at his hands. “I was told. In this room.”
“By who? Great-Aunt Mellifluous?”
“No. Not her.”
“Then who?”
Gustav opened his mouth to answer and then fell back into an unhappy silence.
Sometimes, a terrible secret can be even bigger than the hole it leaves in the story around it. The identity of the person who had told Gustav about his parents—or rather, his dad and what he called the woman who
would have been
his mom—seemed like one of those secrets.
Fernie sat down beside him, saying, “It’s okay. Just tell me the parts you can talk about.”
He nodded gratefully and moved on: “My father inherited the house, and Howard Philip October got in touch with him, saying, ‘Hey, as long as you’re not using the place, can I stay there for a while?’ And my dad and the woman
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