Read Online Strange Magic by Gord Rollo - Free Book Online Page B

sitting in the plush folds of a purple silk pillow. The background was a kaleidoscope of various shades of red.
    “Thank you, thank you, thank you…” the tall magician said, bowing as if in front of an audience.
    “What about my fortune?” she asked. “Is picking the dagger lucky?”
    “Drawing that card is always considered lucky,” beamed the magician. Bowing once more, he deftly withdrew a dagger with a twelve-inch blade from his right boot. “Alas, more so for me than for you I’m afraid.”
    He sprang out of his bow, lightning-quick. In one fluid motion he lashed out at the old woman, a deep red smile appearing across her aged neck, immediately producing two spouting geysers of thick, warm blood. With one savage stroke he’d severed her jugular vein and carotid artery. A sea of sticky redness gushed out, spraying the nearby ceiling and walls.
    Kathleen tried to speak, a look of shock and confusion reflected in her frightened eyes, but no words were heard. She reached up with both hands in a vain attempt to stop the bleeding. Undaunted, the crimson fluid bubbled through the gaps in her fingers, pouring down her chest to puddle at her feet.
    Grinning wickedly, the Stranger turned over the remainder of the cards, revealing the secret of his trick. Every single card in the deck had a picture of the jewel-encrusted dagger. Tossing them aside for the moment,the dark-clothed maniac moved in closer to his scarlet-soaked victim. Heedless of the sloppy gore, he shoved her hard, violently slamming her against the front door.
    Reversing his grip on the blade, he viciously drove the razor-sharp dagger into the area between her eyes. The long blade sank to the hilt, piercing her brain and exiting out the back of her skull to embed itself in the thick wooden door. When the Stranger released his grip, her body remained in a standing position, firmly nailed in place. Her feet, now clear of the red-stained carpet by an inch, continued to spasm uncontrollably.
    Always an affectionate man, he kissed Widow Pruit tenderly on the lips before turning away, leaving her suspended body to twitch and die on her own. He stooped down and retrieved the scattered cards, returning them to his slightly bloodied overcoat.
    After exiting the house by the side-door kitchen entrance, he drove his recently acquired pickup off the street and into his new garage.
    “Home sweet home,” he whispered to the antique trunk as he unloaded it off the truck bed and dragged it into the coppery-tainted smell of the blood-splattered hallway.
    Safely inside, he unbuckled the trunk’s thick leather straps and opened the lid. He wanted to make sure the journey to Billington hadn’t damaged anything. Inside, the magic trunk was empty, save for a single thin sheet of white paper. It turned out to be a note telling other prospective renters who might come calling that the vacancy had been filled and the apartment was no longer available. It was signed: Kathleen Pruit.
    “Oh yeah, I’d forgotten about other renters. I’d better go hang this where it’ll be seen. I’ll put it on the frontdoor; the last thing I need is a parade of nosy apartment seekers. Screw that.”
    In the front hall, the old woman’s corpse was still fastened to the door. Her lower extremities had finally stopped their dance. The dark man couldn’t fully swing open the door because her body brushed the near wall, getting in the way. Fortunately, it swung open enough that it wouldn’t cause a problem. He thought he’d have to search around for a hammer and nail, but was pleased to see tools would be unnecessary. The long dagger pinning the old woman had exited out the other side of the door. The Stranger simply stuck the piece of paper onto the tip of the knife, then smiled at his handiwork for a moment before closing the front door.
    Silently, he wondered if apartment hunting was always this much fun.

C HAPTER S EVEN
L OVE C AN O VERCOME A NYTHING
    Susan eased the vehicle to a stop