Read Online Out Through the Attic by Quincy J. Allen - Free Book Online Page A
Authors: Quincy J. Allen
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swallowed hard, and she seemed to delight in the fear that filled my eyes. She smiled once again.
“Yes, Your Majesty,” I replied, nodding slowly.
The smile disappeared and seconds drew out until I nervously shifted in my seat.
“We approve of this endeavor,” she stated simply and with a finality that set it all in stone. She motioned to the gaunt elf, and he trotted up, producing a thick stack of bound parchment. Her eyes were stern as she stared down at me. “You will use this script, and you will follow it to the letter.” The elf dropped it in my lap. She continued, “I cannot be bothered with such trivial things, but this movie will help correct some of the … misapprehensions … the people have about Us and the unfortunate demise of the King … and his previous Queen. With you at the helm, they will have no choice but to accept it.” She looked at the doors to the house. “ Guards! ” she shouted. Four trolls kicked the doors open and marched onto the patio hefting a large, wooden chest. They dropped it with a thud and one of them flung open the lid.
My eyes went wide. “Good grief!” I shouted. It was full of gold.
“Here is your budget, Cornelius,” she said. She sounded magnanimous, almost kind, but beneath it all was a venom that I’d never understood until that day. “Treat it with care. Your life depends upon this film. Make no mistakes.” She hesitated, looking down at me. Her eyebrow rose slowly, and I realized I was expected to say something.
“Yes, Your Majesty. I will do as you command.” My mind was racing. I felt like a rat in a trap.
She nodded slowly, and the eyebrow lowered back to its grim position. “If you succeed, perhaps We will see about correcting your current financial situation.” She turned and began walking towards the doors. With a swishing of lace she spun back and glared at me. Her pale finger rose and pointed at me, piercing me where I stood. “If you fail, you, your dear wife and your darling daughters will all make amends in whatever manner that suits Us. Do I make myself clear, Cornelius?”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
I was committed.
In a flash I realized I had been committed from that first snort of PD at that first party. All the pieces fell together at once. She’d been planning her rise to power from the first moment she set her hooks in the King. The other PD dealers, they hadn’t left, they’d been removed. Stella had been responsible for the Queen’s death and the King’s. She’d been marching her plan along year after year, body after body, all paid for with PD money … my money.
And with my movie idea, I’d given her a perfect way to placate the people. I’d been part of the story, on the sidelines watching it all happen. I didn’t need to read her script to know it was a pack of lies. I’m sure it would make her out like a hero. And once the movie was released, I’d be a liability. I’d know how much of a lie it really was. My life wouldn’t be worth the paper on a death certificate, and at that point, neither would Wendy’s or the girls’.
I had one shot, and if I failed, they would bury Wendy and my daughters in the same shallow grave as me.
I couldn’t let that happen.
O O O
I became a movie producer that afternoon and spent the next week contacting everyone I would need to make one last blockbuster. I reached out to anyone who had been involved in Hoffur . At first none of them was interested, but when I dangled bags of gold in their faces, they changed their tunes, even the Director. A few had asked about whether the Queen approved of what I was doing. They were scared, scared of crossing a tyrant, scared of disappearing. I gave them the truth, or at least part of it—the Queen had already endorsed the script. I even showed the script to them, bound with the royal seal.
I was off and running.
My PD usage leveled off, but it didn’t go away. It couldn’t. I needed to keep an edge, just a hint of godhood in
“Yes, Your Majesty,” I replied, nodding slowly.
The smile disappeared and seconds drew out until I nervously shifted in my seat.
“We approve of this endeavor,” she stated simply and with a finality that set it all in stone. She motioned to the gaunt elf, and he trotted up, producing a thick stack of bound parchment. Her eyes were stern as she stared down at me. “You will use this script, and you will follow it to the letter.” The elf dropped it in my lap. She continued, “I cannot be bothered with such trivial things, but this movie will help correct some of the … misapprehensions … the people have about Us and the unfortunate demise of the King … and his previous Queen. With you at the helm, they will have no choice but to accept it.” She looked at the doors to the house. “ Guards! ” she shouted. Four trolls kicked the doors open and marched onto the patio hefting a large, wooden chest. They dropped it with a thud and one of them flung open the lid.
My eyes went wide. “Good grief!” I shouted. It was full of gold.
“Here is your budget, Cornelius,” she said. She sounded magnanimous, almost kind, but beneath it all was a venom that I’d never understood until that day. “Treat it with care. Your life depends upon this film. Make no mistakes.” She hesitated, looking down at me. Her eyebrow rose slowly, and I realized I was expected to say something.
“Yes, Your Majesty. I will do as you command.” My mind was racing. I felt like a rat in a trap.
She nodded slowly, and the eyebrow lowered back to its grim position. “If you succeed, perhaps We will see about correcting your current financial situation.” She turned and began walking towards the doors. With a swishing of lace she spun back and glared at me. Her pale finger rose and pointed at me, piercing me where I stood. “If you fail, you, your dear wife and your darling daughters will all make amends in whatever manner that suits Us. Do I make myself clear, Cornelius?”
“Yes, Your Majesty.”
I was committed.
In a flash I realized I had been committed from that first snort of PD at that first party. All the pieces fell together at once. She’d been planning her rise to power from the first moment she set her hooks in the King. The other PD dealers, they hadn’t left, they’d been removed. Stella had been responsible for the Queen’s death and the King’s. She’d been marching her plan along year after year, body after body, all paid for with PD money … my money.
And with my movie idea, I’d given her a perfect way to placate the people. I’d been part of the story, on the sidelines watching it all happen. I didn’t need to read her script to know it was a pack of lies. I’m sure it would make her out like a hero. And once the movie was released, I’d be a liability. I’d know how much of a lie it really was. My life wouldn’t be worth the paper on a death certificate, and at that point, neither would Wendy’s or the girls’.
I had one shot, and if I failed, they would bury Wendy and my daughters in the same shallow grave as me.
I couldn’t let that happen.
O O O
I became a movie producer that afternoon and spent the next week contacting everyone I would need to make one last blockbuster. I reached out to anyone who had been involved in Hoffur . At first none of them was interested, but when I dangled bags of gold in their faces, they changed their tunes, even the Director. A few had asked about whether the Queen approved of what I was doing. They were scared, scared of crossing a tyrant, scared of disappearing. I gave them the truth, or at least part of it—the Queen had already endorsed the script. I even showed the script to them, bound with the royal seal.
I was off and running.
My PD usage leveled off, but it didn’t go away. It couldn’t. I needed to keep an edge, just a hint of godhood in