Total pages in book: 138
Estimated words: 130924 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 655(@200wpm)___ 524(@250wpm)___ 436(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 130924 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 655(@200wpm)___ 524(@250wpm)___ 436(@300wpm)
I glance back at Crane and then softly close the door. I want to know what Vivienne has to show me this time, but I’m not about to head into the basement alone if that’s where she’s leading me.
With the candle slightly shaking in my hand, I creep down the hallway. It’s so quiet now, especially knowing that the teachers Desi and Daniels are gone, and even though Crane has mentioned that the custodian lives here too, I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s disappeared.
I go around the corner, expecting to see the path of blood leading down the stairs, in which case I planned to turn around and go back to Crane’s room, but instead the blood continues across the mezzanine and turns the corner into the women’s wing.
I quicken my pace after her, careful not to get my bare feet in the blood, then slow down as I’m about to turn down the other wing.
I go around the corner…
And let out a soundless scream.
Vivienne Henry is standing a foot away from me.
The woman stares at me with her empty white eyes, her mouth a black open hole, as if she’s swallowing my screams, as if she’s going to swallow me whole.
Then she suddenly moves backward and to the side, out of my way, and points down the hall with a crooked bony finger.
I can’t even breathe, my lungs are gasping for air, and my heart feels like it might quit on me. I clutch my hands to my chest, and my gaze follows where she’s pointing.
She’s pointing at Ms. Choi’s room, the door closed.
I look back at Vivienne. She’s a rotting, festering corpse, with a giant gaping hole in the middle of her, staining her torn nightgown with crimson. It looks like all her organs have been removed and she’s bleeding profusely onto the floor.
And yet, even in those white eyes, I don’t sense anything malicious or evil. I think she’s trying to help me, not lead me into a trap.
Goodness, I hope I’m not being naïve.
“You want me to go inside there?” I whisper to her.
Vivienne raises a finger to her non-existent lips and nods once.
I gulp down my fear and start towards Ms. Choi’s room. It feels wrong to turn my back on Vivienne, but I do.
Then, when my hand is on the doorknob, I stop and look back at her over my shoulder.
The hall is empty.
There’s no blood either.
Vivienne Henry is gone.
I take in a deep breath and open the door, finding it unlocked.
Ms. Choi’s room is dark save for the moonlight. It looks exactly like it did when I was last here, and though there is no lit incense or cigarettes, the room smells of it anyway.
I step further inside, leaving the door wide open, and look around. The painting of the raven has been slashed, the raven cut right out of the canvas, sending chills down my spine. Her bed is unmade, a few drawers of her dresser are open, undergarments spilling out.
A small bottle lies toppled over on her desk, the cork beside it. I pick it up and hold it to the moonlight, seeing just a little bit of black liquid inside. I sniff it, a licorice scent, and then look at the label which is handwritten in ink: Carbones Corrumpebant. Something with charcoal.
I put the cork back on and slip the bottle in my pocket, thinking Crane might find it useful for something.
Then I hear a splash from the bathroom.
My heart stills.
Oh God.
Leave the room, the voice inside me says. Leave the room and run to Crane.
But what if it’s Ms. Choi? What if she’s alive still?
Vivienne Henry told me to come in here, didn’t she? Isn’t she trying to help?
I try to steady my breath and I slowly, silently, creep toward to the open door of the bathroom.
I step inside and gasp, dropping the candle, the flame going out.
The bathtub is filled to the rim with blood, the full moon from outside reflecting on the surface.
And as I stand there, staring at it, the blood starts to ripple and move.
A head starts to rise out of the liquid.
At first I don’t know who it is, if it’s Ms. Choi, if it’s Vivienne, or maybe even Marie.
Then, the head fully emerges, dark hair plastered down the sides of the face, rivers of blood falling away from their features. Their eyes open and stare directly at me, fully black.
And familiar.
It’s my mother.
“Mother?” I squeak, frozen in shock. I don’t dare get any closer to her, but I couldn’t move even if I tried.
“Katrina,” she says, and despite the fact that her eyes look so inhuman, the fact that she’s bathing in a bathtub full of blood, she sounds normal. “You shouldn’t be here.”
I shake my head violently. “No. I…I don’t understand. Why are you here? What is this?”