Read Online Red Widow (Vivian Xu, Book 1) by Nathan Wilson - Free Book Online Page B
Authors: Nathan Wilson
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agents pried her from bed, impervious to her
screams. She tried to dig her nails into the carpet but she only
succeeded in chafing her fingertips raw. Her charring bedroom
recoiled into the shadows as it stretched further down the twisted
hall.
“ Get away!” she cried,
slinging her arms around the staircase banister. They plucked her
from the handrail like a bug. Mementos on the wall smoldered in the
lustful embrace of the flames. If she closed her eyes and listened
intently, she could almost hear the aching walls cry out for
mercy.
Her small body landed in the back of a
van, where she peered into the frightened eyes of her mother and
father. She dove into their arms as the engine roared to life and
the vehicle careened around the bend.
* * *
Vivian quickly banished the memory.
That night would remain painfully embedded in her mind, and she
would always retreat to memories of the safe place in mother’s
arms.
Pushing through the metal gates, she
traipsed through the playground, carried aloft by the breeze. The
wind howled through the plastic mazes, whispering to Vivian of the
things that once were.
During the riots, many playground
apparatuses had been vandalized by thieves in search of makeshift
weapons. Her eyes flickered across a blunt length of metal on the
pavement, an unnerving addition to a children’s play area. Feeling
vulnerable, she seized it.
Tongues of fog flicked across the park
in a tide of lurid grace. This playground was floating in limbo, a
fragment of history that many residents longed to erase from their
guilty consciences.
A sudden cry rang out and pierced her
heart. Something was hobbling near the rusted carousel. Vivian
clutched the crowbar to her chest.
What is that thing? Her imagination flirted with the grotesque
possibilities. It didn’t move like a human and its body certainly
didn’t resemble one either.
Vivian held her breath, not making a
peep as the dark shape limped away. Its spindly legs jerked through
the mist as it crept beyond the forsaken playground. Vivian knew
better than to pursue it. At least, she should have.
It retched vilely as it dragged itself
further down the street.
Vivian peeked from behind a rundown
car as she mirrored its path. Finally, she caught sight of the
creature. An emaciated, black dog limped along the road. Under the
cloak of fog, it hobbled into an apartment complex. Vivian summoned
her last ounce of courage and dashed across the streets.
She looked at the words etched above
the entrance.
Grigorshire Palace.
It was an ironic title given the
squalor that ultimately sealed its demise.
Nonetheless, the haunting entrance
called to her. Vivian quietly swept inside, as there was no door to
keep her out. A parasitic beauty fed on the desolation within. Her
face puckered as a cinnamon-smelling musk tickled her
nose.
The front desk lay in ruins, devoid of
a receptionist. She couldn’t resist the impulse to rap the
bell.
Her hand froze the moment she saw what
awaited her beyond the lobby.
Tumors of mold sizzled in the corners
of the ceiling. Vivian’s jaws snapped shut, suddenly afraid to
taste the air. She almost thought she saw it squirming, multiplying
in fetid spasms.
Retreating from the webs of mold, she
tore through the hall. Several flights of stairs later, her pace
slowed to a crawl as the weight of Grigorshire Palace took its
toll. A vexing presence infested this place, a feeling that
shouldn’t even exist in the natural world. It gnawed at her heart,
goading her onward with promises of repulsive things she never
thought possible, abominations that would scar her mind and bring
about enlightenment.
The walls groaned as if angered by her
intrusion. Some of them sounded like voices, others like a thousand
hungry jaws devouring meat. Maybe there were rats in the walls,
gorging on something.
She peeked inside one of the rooms that hadn’t been boarded
up. A creaking nursery beckoned her inside. One door after the
other, she stole
screams. She tried to dig her nails into the carpet but she only
succeeded in chafing her fingertips raw. Her charring bedroom
recoiled into the shadows as it stretched further down the twisted
hall.
“ Get away!” she cried,
slinging her arms around the staircase banister. They plucked her
from the handrail like a bug. Mementos on the wall smoldered in the
lustful embrace of the flames. If she closed her eyes and listened
intently, she could almost hear the aching walls cry out for
mercy.
Her small body landed in the back of a
van, where she peered into the frightened eyes of her mother and
father. She dove into their arms as the engine roared to life and
the vehicle careened around the bend.
* * *
Vivian quickly banished the memory.
That night would remain painfully embedded in her mind, and she
would always retreat to memories of the safe place in mother’s
arms.
Pushing through the metal gates, she
traipsed through the playground, carried aloft by the breeze. The
wind howled through the plastic mazes, whispering to Vivian of the
things that once were.
During the riots, many playground
apparatuses had been vandalized by thieves in search of makeshift
weapons. Her eyes flickered across a blunt length of metal on the
pavement, an unnerving addition to a children’s play area. Feeling
vulnerable, she seized it.
Tongues of fog flicked across the park
in a tide of lurid grace. This playground was floating in limbo, a
fragment of history that many residents longed to erase from their
guilty consciences.
A sudden cry rang out and pierced her
heart. Something was hobbling near the rusted carousel. Vivian
clutched the crowbar to her chest.
What is that thing? Her imagination flirted with the grotesque
possibilities. It didn’t move like a human and its body certainly
didn’t resemble one either.
Vivian held her breath, not making a
peep as the dark shape limped away. Its spindly legs jerked through
the mist as it crept beyond the forsaken playground. Vivian knew
better than to pursue it. At least, she should have.
It retched vilely as it dragged itself
further down the street.
Vivian peeked from behind a rundown
car as she mirrored its path. Finally, she caught sight of the
creature. An emaciated, black dog limped along the road. Under the
cloak of fog, it hobbled into an apartment complex. Vivian summoned
her last ounce of courage and dashed across the streets.
She looked at the words etched above
the entrance.
Grigorshire Palace.
It was an ironic title given the
squalor that ultimately sealed its demise.
Nonetheless, the haunting entrance
called to her. Vivian quietly swept inside, as there was no door to
keep her out. A parasitic beauty fed on the desolation within. Her
face puckered as a cinnamon-smelling musk tickled her
nose.
The front desk lay in ruins, devoid of
a receptionist. She couldn’t resist the impulse to rap the
bell.
Her hand froze the moment she saw what
awaited her beyond the lobby.
Tumors of mold sizzled in the corners
of the ceiling. Vivian’s jaws snapped shut, suddenly afraid to
taste the air. She almost thought she saw it squirming, multiplying
in fetid spasms.
Retreating from the webs of mold, she
tore through the hall. Several flights of stairs later, her pace
slowed to a crawl as the weight of Grigorshire Palace took its
toll. A vexing presence infested this place, a feeling that
shouldn’t even exist in the natural world. It gnawed at her heart,
goading her onward with promises of repulsive things she never
thought possible, abominations that would scar her mind and bring
about enlightenment.
The walls groaned as if angered by her
intrusion. Some of them sounded like voices, others like a thousand
hungry jaws devouring meat. Maybe there were rats in the walls,
gorging on something.
She peeked inside one of the rooms that hadn’t been boarded
up. A creaking nursery beckoned her inside. One door after the
other, she stole
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