Dangerous Girls by Eric Vall

Author:Eric Vall [Vall, Eric]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2024-04-27T00:00:00+00:00

Chapter 10

“Who are you?” I demanded. “And how did you get in here?”

The girl gazed at me with huge blue eyes like a doll’s.

“Here,” she repeated. “I am here.”

Her voice was soft and breathy, and for some reason, it reminded me of the sound the wind made when it rustled through the tops of the trees. There was a strange lilt to her words I couldn’t place geographically.

“Yes, here,” I said in a very firm voice. “How did you get into my shop? The doors were locked, and no one else has the keys, so you must have gotten in somehow. Did you break a window? Is that something else I have to add to my to-do list?”

“A window,” she repeated, and she gave a soft, high-pitched giggle. “That is what you see the world through. So that is why they took them away, it was just so expensive, the king couldn’t cope. And now the windows are gone, but the holes remain.”

I still couldn’t put my finger on where her accent was from. It could have been Irish, or English, or Newfoundland, or Transatlantic, but it was a bit hard to concentrate on her accent when her actual words were total nonsense.

I folded my arms and gave her my best retail worker stare.

She looked at me with her blue eyes open wide, and then she suddenly bit her lower lip and giggled again. Her two front teeth were a little prominent, like a rabbit’s, and they matched perfectly with her huge round blue eyes and her full cheeks. She was very small, probably not even five feet tall, and she had a soft, plump figure that made her look as cute and as round as a cherub. Her skin was a pale-olive color, and her hair was a silvery-brown cut in a very messy short style with heavy bangs that hung low over her eyes.

Sometimes when I saw women with messy haircuts, it had very obviously been cut like that on purpose, but on this woman, it looked more like she’d just taken a pair of scissors and hacked off random clumps of her hair in order to get it shorter.

And maybe even assuming she’d used scissors was generous.

At first glance, it looked like she was wearing a short, plain gray dress. But then I looked closer, and I realized her dress was a man’s shirt that was simply massively oversized on her, and the reason why it looked gray was that it was fucking filthy. It didn’t look like it had been washed in weeks, and it was covered in mysterious stains and dark, discolored patches. There was a trail of cobwebs hanging from her left elbow, and her feet were bare. The makeshift dress stopped just above her knees, and her plump, soft lower legs were covered in dust and dirt.

“Are you okay?” I asked her with a sudden, concerned frown. “You look– Sorry, I’m just going to come out and say it, you look like a bit of a mess.

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