We'll rip out the human’s throat, then I’ll set my family right.
Chapter Three - Golden
Monsters are real.
Bloody hell, monsters are fucking real.
I’m walking so fast I’m nearly running and have been since I escaped that fucking mansion last night. In the fresh light of early morning, the image of whatever the hell I was sharing that mansion with is too-clear in my mind.
He was naked, body like a flimsy plastic bag over-stuffed with bones. Towering over me—which, fair enough, isn’t hard when I’m 5’6. And I know it was a man because while the only dick I’ve ever seen is my own, if it walks like a duck and quacks like a duck, that monster definitely had a penis.
And it’s face, it was…gaunt doesn’t give it credit.
I’ve seen gaunt before, I’ve been homeless on and off most of my life. I know what starving looks like. That was a skeleton wrapped in white flesh, teeth a graveyard of shattered tombstones. Nails long enough to curl, like claws in a straight to TV horror film.
I slap a hand over my mouth, swallowing the rising vomit. I’ve seen bones before, chicken, lamb, my own bloody kneecap when I took a nasty fall as a kid. Nothing like this. They were grey, dull.
I dart into a café and straight into the toilets, locking myself in a stall. Pulling my legs up onto the seat to bury my face into my knees.
Monsters are real.
My pocket burns where the brooch sits. Because, of course, even after I dropped the candle and legged it like my life depended on it, apparently I’m still greedy enough to hold onto something valuable.
And surprise surprise, monsters are real, what about curses?
Because fuck no, I’m not dealing with a curse.
If only my phone hadn’t died then I’d look up what to do with a posisble cursed brooch. Instead, I take a deep breath, which I instantly regret because, God, I’m in the men’s toilet. Still, time to deal with this madness that has become my life. I leave the stall and rush out the dingy little café, brooch back in my pocket.
I know I shouldn’t base my life on what happens in movies, but movies are all I’ve got right now. So, I do the only sensible thing I can think of and head towards the library.
It isn’t too long a walk, but I keep my head down and hands stuffed in my pockets. I might not be back in my part of the city, but that doesn’t mean I won’t be recognised.
The library is a big square box made out of brick and metal. I take the wide concrete steps two at a time and push open the heavy glass doors once I’ve reached the top to get inside.
It’s busy, but quiet like most libraries, smelling like books and recently cleaned carpets. Librarians work behind desks, tapping on their keyboards. I flash my library card as I head for the computers way in the back, behind long shelves of books, near the DVD’s, I bet nobody rents. And drop my bag beside my feet to get comfortable in a chair that’s got stuffing poking out a broken seam.
It’s soft, so I’m not gonna complain.
Once I’m logged in, I begin my search:
'Are curses real?'
The existence of curses is a matter of belief and there is no scientific evidence to support their reality.
Since I’ve learnt that monsters are real and live in old mansions, science ain’t going to be helping me here.
'Are rubies cursed?'
The Black Prince's Rubyis said to be cursed because it was obtained through an act of deceit and murder.
'What's the The Black Prince's Ruby?'
The Black Prince's Ruby is a large, red, semi-precious stone set in the Imperial State Crown of the United Kingdom…
Way too many hours later, I’ve fallen down a Wikipedia rabbit hole about diamonds, of all things. Turns out they’re not even that rare, we’re all being conned. Gold is rarer than diamonds.
“Shit.” I frown at the screen, stopping my mouse from clicking on the Wikipedia page for the ‘European Food Safety Authority’, who OK’d gold to be used in food. “What was I doing, again?”
