She shrugs her shoulder, “Maybe. Probably not. Anyways, that’s what we’ve found so far.”
“So, we’re living in a murder’s house. Just when I thought this place couldn’t get any creepier.”
“Right? Although, the cherubs have grown on me. I’m thinking we should give them names.”
“And I think that’s my cue to cut our alcohol off.” I say, stashing the bottle back under the bed.
“Fair point. But what do you think about Joseppe for the one with the crooked eyes.”
“I think it would be offensive to people with that name.” Salem begins to curl up under the blankets, her eyes half shut.
“You’re right, it’s more of a Linda.”
“Let’s table the naming of the cherubs for when you’re not so plastered.”
She says something unintelligible before I hear a soft snore coming from her nose. I shake my head and make sure she’s turned on her side, so she won’t aspirate in her sleep.
Something about the seven brothers niggles at my brain. I decide to ask her later to take a look at those books with her. I settle in the bed next to her after leaving briefly to brush my teeth. It doesn’t take long before I’m falling fast asleep, my thoughts swirling around the history of this island and the people who had a hand in making it.
ChapterThirty-Seven
SALEM
SONG: MIDDLE OF THE NIGHT BY POWER HAUS, TOM EVANS, JOEL SUNNY
I’m running through the forest, hands bound. I’ve been here before, and I know what waits for me at the bottom. I don’t want to see, but my feet keep moving. She’s here. I recognize her immediately this time. I’d thought maybe she was a younger version of my grandma before, but no- this is my aunt who’s been guiding me in these dreams. I see her smile back over her shoulder at me.
“I know you.” I call out.
She laughs. “Oh child. You know not what you see. I am made of whispers and nightmares. I am the sum of our ancestors leading you to where you must be. Open your eyes.”
She gestures to the pile of rocks that were once the cave. I didn’t even realize that I had stopped moving. I look down. My hands have become unbound, and I’m overcome by a sense of peace.
“Reach out.” She encourages. I lift my arm over the pile of rocks and watch as they begin to move.
“You know what you have to do”
I move the rocks away and step onto the path I’ve made. A fissure writhes against the rock, resembling barbed wire over a gap just big enough to fit one person. It calls to me, and I know that I need to walk through it.
“He is coming! Quick, wake up. Wake up, Salem!”
A dark mist surrounds us, before engulfing her entirely, and I scream.
I wake up, drenched in sweat. I’m standing in the basement of the house, down in the cellar.
Fuck, it’s cold and dark down here. Why do I keep waking up down here?
My bare feet slide against the gritty concrete. I glance around searching for a light switch, my eyes adjusting to the dark. I finally find one a few feet in front of me, dangling from the ceiling. It’s covered in cobwebs, and a few come floating down as I yank the cord.
Several fluorescent lights buzz to life sluggishly as if they’re annoyed to wake up. Thankfully they give me enough light to take in the dusty space around me. The room is full of old crates full of odds and ends that look more like flotsam and jetsam for how dilapidated the items are.
I feel an internal pull to the back corner where the ceiling is lowest. I make my way over to the brick wall, dodging cobwebs that drape down from the wooden beams. I crouch down, and wipe at a brick that looks out of place. It’s smaller and cleaner than the ones surrounding it.
I give it a push and the wall shakes. A dark passageway reveals itself with a creak, dust flying in the air. I cover my mouth as a rotten stench fills the air.
I stare for a moment dumbfounded at the sight before me, before I hear a whisper ring out through the silence, “He is coming.”
I scramble to press the brick again. It shuts slowly with a rattle.
