Songs of Dreaming Gods by Meikle William

Author:Meikle, William
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: horror, occult
Publisher: Crossroad Press
Published: 2017-09-07T16:00:00+00:00

13

Janis backed out of the boudoir bedroom door and slammed it hard, just as a scurrying shadow came, too fast, across the floor, dead eyes staring, tiny legs pounding, drum-like footsteps on the polished hardwood floor. She put a shoulder against the wood, holding it shut. She knew that a foot-high doll couldn’t reach the door handle, but she also knew that dolls didn’t jump down off shelves and run across floors.

The doll hit the door a second after she closed it. It felt like a small boisterous dog was on the other side, beating against the wood with frenzy that spoke of frustration at being denied. This time Janis could see the shadow moving in what little light came through below the door. A small figure scurried from one side to the other and back again, looking for a way to get through to her, all the while pounding and scratching against the wood, which by the sound of it was starting to splinter.

In the room beyond, the gramophone kept playing. She was already coming to hate every beat and chord and word of that bloody song.

Where he lies, where he lies, where he lies, where he lies.

Once it was obvious that the door wasn’t going to be opened easily from the other side, Janis backed away down the short corridor, one hand on her pistol, never taking her eyes from the doorway. She had almost reached the main entrance to the apartment and a possible escape out to the landing when the pounding and scratching started behind her. Blue eyes were staring again out there too. The first of the escaped dolls had come back up the stairs and was now joining the other in a frenzied attempt to get at her. She was trapped in the hallway between doors that were both under attack, and the space suddenly seemed much smaller, more cramped.

It started to darken again, in a matter of seconds it would be pitch black and she’d be left with just the scratching and tearing. She wasn’t about to hang about to see what happened when the noises stopped in the dark. She could either let one of the dolls into the hallway and trust her life to her pistol and her reflexes, or take the door to the side, and hope the fat man wasn’t in there too, waiting for just that eventuality.

The gramophone beyond the door finally wound down.

The Dreaming God is singing where he lies.

The scratching and pounding at the doors didn’t slow. Janis decided she’d rather face the fat man than the dolls at this point, so she went quickly across and turned the handle. She half expected it to be still locked, but the brass knob turned in her hand and the door started to open. She didn’t look such a gift horse in the mouth. She pulled the door open and went in.

She was surprised when she stepped through, not into a lavatory but into the same lavishly furnished and upholstered room where the smell of cheap perfume threatened to make her gag all over again.

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