Thirteen Ways to Kill Lulabelle Rock by Maud Woolf

Author:Maud Woolf
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781915202918
Publisher: Watkins Media
Published: 2024-01-15T00:00:00+00:00

CHAPTER EIGHT

Strength

In a tranquil meadow, a woman dressed in white holds a lion by its jaws. She is wearing a crown of wildflowers and above her head is the twisting ribbon of infinity. The lion’s teeth are sharp and very white, and its red tongue lolls out. They are watching each other carefully.

There are no lights on inside the apartment. I think it might be a small room. I think I see furniture and framed pictures on the wall but in the dark, everything is just a different shape of shadow.

One shadow, more substantial than the others, holds the door open for me.

“Come in,” it says. “Sit down.”

I limp past her into the dark and sink down onto a chair-shaped patch of darkness. The only illumination comes from the window, the glow of a streetlamp outside cut into stripes by the blinds. The carpet is divided into bars of light and dark, like a piano keyboard. As the Portrait moves towards me, I imagine the notes being played one by one, a stilted scale.

“I know who you are,” the Portrait says softly. “I know why you’ve come.”

“Can I…” My head hurts. “Can I have a glass of water?”

“No,” she says.

I am too tired to look at her. I scrape some of the dried fluid off my chin, feeling the peel of it under my fingernails.

“I’ve been getting calls all day,” she goes on. “You haven’t been very subtle. Is that Prudence’s blood?”

“Yes,” I say. “Who called you? Which of the others?”

“Does it matter? We’ll all be dead sooner or later,” She moves around the room, brushing her hands absently over the door, the edge of the table, the bookcase. I catch glimpses of her as she moves into patches of streetlight, but there doesn’t seem to be anything special about her. Platinum hair, white linen pyjamas, my mouth and eyes and nose. Just Lulabelle, like all the others.

“How are you finding the city?” she asks me. “It’s a strange place, isn’t it?”

“It’s confusing.”

“Have you noticed the strangest part yet?” she asks. “Have you looked at it on a map?”

The map on Spencer’s wall. I realise now what was wrong. “Bubble City – that’s not it’s real name.”

“That’s right,” the Portrait says. “Before the city was here there was just a large rock in the middle of the valley. One day they took her up on it and cut her into pieces. Her blood became cold sweet water where it touched the rock and trees grew up from the places in the valley where they scattered her body. Because of this they made her a saint and when they built the city they named it after her. This is why Bubble City has a different name on the map.”

“Why are you telling me this?”

“I think it’s important to know exactly where you’re going to die.”

My hand edges for the gun under my ruined jacket.

“Do you know why she made me?” the Portrait asks without moving.

I stay silent, thinking about the distance to the door.

Download

Copyright Disclaimer:
This site does not store any files on its server. We only index and link to content provided by other sites. Please contact the content providers to delete copyright contents if any and email us, we'll remove relevant links or contents immediately.