Read Online Night Things: A Novel of Supernatural Terror by Michael Talbot - Free Book Online
Authors: Michael Talbot
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smoke.” Stephen’s curiosity faded. “Oh, you mean he had a bad dream.”
“But that’s just it,” Lauren countered. “Don’t you think that’s an unusual image for a little boy to come up with in a dream?”
“What image?”
“To describe someone as being made out of black smoke?”
“No, I don’t—at least, not for someone as imaginative as Garrett obviously is.”
“You’re right, I guess,” she said. But still something about Garrett’s description of the thing gnawed at her. Finally, after convincing herself she was only being silly, she smiled. “Hey, since it’s our first real day in the house, why don’t the three of us do something together? You know, something like a picnic?”
“A great idea,” he returned.
For Garrett, breakfast started out more pleasantly than he expected. True to her word, his mother made pancakes, and even Stephen seemed in unusually good spirits. Garrett had decided to make a show of tolerating Stephen. This meant being polite, if not exactly warm. After the fiasco of the evening before he did not want to alienate his mother any further. However, he also still did not trust Stephen. He decided the best approach was simply to bide his time and pray that eventually something would happen that would cause his mother to see Stephen’s true colors.
When the meal was over, Stephen and his mother launched into such a gushy display of affection that he was forced to flee to the drawing room. He sat in one of the wing chairs next to the fireplace. Upon reflection he realized he was still too unsettled by his encounter with the thing to even think about going back upstairs alone. Such a venture would be tempting fate, at best. But as he continued to dangle his feet over the faded oriental carpet and mull over his experience, several things occurred to him which caused him to reconsider.
It crossed his mind that since the thing in his room had been composed of darkness, there was perhaps a certain logic in assuming it came out only after dark. After all, it had provided no hint of its presence until well after nightfall. Similarly, given that shadows were dispersed by sunlight, and most ghosts and monsters had a long and well-known history of coming out only at night, it seemed likely that venturing about the house during the daylight hours would be safe.
As the experience of the night before retreated further and further into the misty half-reality of memory, his curiosity about the house and its architectural peculiarities returned. Was there some sort of connection between the thing and the other strange features the house possessed? And if not, what purpose did they serve? His longing to know the answers to such questions outweighed his fears, and he decided to go exploring.
He left the drawing room and went upstairs, but when he reached the second-floor hallway a wave of misgiving passed through him once again. He suppressed it, but did make one concession. Remembering that the thing had come from the right, from the part of the hallway beyond his bedroom, he decided not to proceed in that direction and turned left instead.
As he walked down the hall he noticed it looked very much the same as the hall in which their bedrooms were situated. The wallpaper was the same rose color, and everywhere he looked were still more bedrooms. Uninterested in exploring these, he continued on until he came to a small vestibule at the far end of the hall. On one wall was a large circular window, and on the other walls was a profusion of doors. Choosing one at random, he turned the knob and cautiously crept in.
Inside was an upstairs drawing room. Its walls were paneled with elaborately carved oak squares, and on one wall a row of leaded-glass lancet windows looked out on the forest beyond. Like all of the rooms in the house it was richly furnished, and dotting its perimeter were a number of doors and a few staircases.
Seeing nothing untoward, Garrett padded into the room, but by
“But that’s just it,” Lauren countered. “Don’t you think that’s an unusual image for a little boy to come up with in a dream?”
“What image?”
“To describe someone as being made out of black smoke?”
“No, I don’t—at least, not for someone as imaginative as Garrett obviously is.”
“You’re right, I guess,” she said. But still something about Garrett’s description of the thing gnawed at her. Finally, after convincing herself she was only being silly, she smiled. “Hey, since it’s our first real day in the house, why don’t the three of us do something together? You know, something like a picnic?”
“A great idea,” he returned.
For Garrett, breakfast started out more pleasantly than he expected. True to her word, his mother made pancakes, and even Stephen seemed in unusually good spirits. Garrett had decided to make a show of tolerating Stephen. This meant being polite, if not exactly warm. After the fiasco of the evening before he did not want to alienate his mother any further. However, he also still did not trust Stephen. He decided the best approach was simply to bide his time and pray that eventually something would happen that would cause his mother to see Stephen’s true colors.
When the meal was over, Stephen and his mother launched into such a gushy display of affection that he was forced to flee to the drawing room. He sat in one of the wing chairs next to the fireplace. Upon reflection he realized he was still too unsettled by his encounter with the thing to even think about going back upstairs alone. Such a venture would be tempting fate, at best. But as he continued to dangle his feet over the faded oriental carpet and mull over his experience, several things occurred to him which caused him to reconsider.
It crossed his mind that since the thing in his room had been composed of darkness, there was perhaps a certain logic in assuming it came out only after dark. After all, it had provided no hint of its presence until well after nightfall. Similarly, given that shadows were dispersed by sunlight, and most ghosts and monsters had a long and well-known history of coming out only at night, it seemed likely that venturing about the house during the daylight hours would be safe.
As the experience of the night before retreated further and further into the misty half-reality of memory, his curiosity about the house and its architectural peculiarities returned. Was there some sort of connection between the thing and the other strange features the house possessed? And if not, what purpose did they serve? His longing to know the answers to such questions outweighed his fears, and he decided to go exploring.
He left the drawing room and went upstairs, but when he reached the second-floor hallway a wave of misgiving passed through him once again. He suppressed it, but did make one concession. Remembering that the thing had come from the right, from the part of the hallway beyond his bedroom, he decided not to proceed in that direction and turned left instead.
As he walked down the hall he noticed it looked very much the same as the hall in which their bedrooms were situated. The wallpaper was the same rose color, and everywhere he looked were still more bedrooms. Uninterested in exploring these, he continued on until he came to a small vestibule at the far end of the hall. On one wall was a large circular window, and on the other walls was a profusion of doors. Choosing one at random, he turned the knob and cautiously crept in.
Inside was an upstairs drawing room. Its walls were paneled with elaborately carved oak squares, and on one wall a row of leaded-glass lancet windows looked out on the forest beyond. Like all of the rooms in the house it was richly furnished, and dotting its perimeter were a number of doors and a few staircases.
Seeing nothing untoward, Garrett padded into the room, but by
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