Lords of Salem: A novel by Rob Zombie

Author:Rob Zombie [Zombie, Rob]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Speculative Fiction, Fiction / Horror, (¯`'•.¸//(*_*)\\¸.•'´¯)
ISBN: 9781455519194
Publisher: Grand Central
Published: 2013-02-28T13:00:00+00:00

She trudged up the stairs. She shouldn’t have glanced in, should have pleaded exhaustion. Probably if she hadn’t, she would have managed to get by without them calling to her. But now it was too late. She’d have to go talk to them.

At her apartment, she couldn’t help but glance down at apartment five. For a moment she thought the door was open and did a double take. But no, it wasn’t open after all. It was just the way the shadows fell. She resisted the impulse to go down the hall and check to make sure it was locked.

She opened the door on darkness, heard Steve whining.

“I know, buddy,” she said. “I’m late. I’m so sorry. Hold on, give me a second.”

She flipped the kitchen light on, but when it came on it flickered a little, and kept flickering. Bulb must be going out, she thought. She took off her coat and tossed it into the living room. She dropped her bag.

Steve was acting odd, whining a little. He greeted her, but not very enthusiastically, but once she filled his bowl with food he began eating right away, wolfing it down and growling as if he expected someone to take it from him.

“Stop being weird, Steve,” she said, feeling a little hurt. “I wasn’t gone all that much longer than usual.”

She watched him for a moment. Gradually, his growling seemed to fade away. Maybe she’d forgotten to feed him before she left. She grabbed a bottle of wine off the counter and opened the apartment door, stepped out into the hall.

“Okay, buddy,” she said. “I promise I’ll be back quick. I’m just going to go have a quick one with the old ladies downstairs.” How do I get myself roped into these things? she was wondering.

She stood in the doorway watching Steve eat a moment more and then shut the door and went out into the hall. She glanced again at the door to apartment five and again had the impression it was open, but this time stopped herself from turning around to look at it. It would be, she was sure, the same as it had been before: just an illusion. Nobody was in apartment five, she told herself. The door was certainly closed.

She continued toward the stairs without turning back around, feeling the skin prickling on the back of her neck.

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