Or who, as the case may be.
Chapter 17
CHRISTOPHER
Wherever I end up, I sure as hell hope it’s not a glass coffin.
Ingrid White, the old hag who coined herself the Evil Queen, lays peacefully in her casket, looking pretty fucking rough in her eternal resting place. Sapphires and rubies dance along her long black gown, the shriveled up bouquet resting in her withered grasp a sad comparison for what’s left of her body.
“That’s fucking disgusting.”
Loose skin and even looser eye sockets seem to melt off the woman’s face, the ears decorated with heavy jewellery all but touching her shoulders as the circle of life does its best to decompose a woman locked in a glass chamber.
Oh, God. And thesmell.
A retch hits my throat and I just about lose my dinner all over the pristine floor tiles. Forcing myself to breathe through my mouth, I can feel my tear ducts burning as waves of putridfumes hit me. It’s the kind of stench that burns itself into your skin and throws away any hope of keeping these clothes.
This better be worth it.
The four-digit code Evie gave me works perfectly. The combination unlocks the casket with a simple click, and now that the gemstones are within reach, it’s time to do what I do best.
Steal some fucking shit.
Riffling through the pockets of my cargo pants, I start tearing off the Velcro patches strapped inside. Long strips of fabric unravel to reveal rows of pockets and placeholders custom designed to fit utensils far smaller than your average kitchen necessities.
Laying them out on the ground, I push the glass dome up and over the deceased. Ingrid doesn’t move a muscle, her ligaments long since detached in the years that have passed since her death.
“Sorry, darling. I’m going to need to borrow these for a while.”
Drawing a cross on my chest, I give the old biddy a pained smile before getting down to business. Plucking the minerals off her gown, I start filling up my strips systematically, finishing each row and folding them up before continuing on to the next one.
It’s a stinky, unholy process but I keep going, filling up each micro pocket until the last of the rolls are filled. Strapping them back to the inside of my pants, I can’t help but grin as the weight of my crew’s future slides off my shoulders and onto my ass.
“Just a couple more and then I’ll let you get some beauty sleep.”
Pulling on a pair of latex gloves, I move towards the fallen queen and lift her hand gently. A massive emerald sits upon her ring finger, the diamonds circling the engagement band worth almost as much as the Hoffmann Diamond itself.
It’s a beautiful piece, and from the books I’ve read, it once belonged to a beautiful woman as well.
The thick jut of her knuckle keeps the ring from sliding off her finger. I tug it again, trying to twist it around the bulge, but no luck.
Ah, fuck.
The brittle bone makes a sickening pop and the ring comes sliding off. Acknowledging my reserved spot in hell, I continue breaking her fingers, stripping the deceased clean of every last sparkle. I’m just about to secure the last one when a murmur echoes through the room.
“Did you say something?”
Ingrid rightfully ignores me.
I tilt my head, straining to hear the sound again. Nothing happens for a beat or two and then my worst nightmare comes true.
“Here it is.”
I dive headfirst into the coffin, barely managing to bury myself beneath Ingrid’s decaying body before the door swings open. Holding my breath, I listen to the shuffle of feet as the newcomers wander closer to the coffin.
The click of stilettos draws closer and it comes as no surprise to see green eyes peering down at me. I can feel Ingrid’s bodily fluids seeping into my clothes as I stare back at her, knowing full well the grin sneaking across her face is nothing good
“Is the casket supposed to be open?” Sporting an air of innocence, Calista purses her lips and leans closer to my hiding spot, “I thought there would be more sparkly things in here.”
