Chiaroscuro: The Mouse and the Candle by Matthew S. Cox

Author:Matthew S. Cox [Cox, Matthew S.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Horror, Vampires, Fantasy, Paranormal
ISBN: 9781949174601
Google: bHOhDwAAQBAJ
Goodreads: 43852845
Publisher: Division Zero Press
Published: 2016-07-18T05:00:00+00:00

Three quarters of the way through the sixth pass at Prince and the Pauper, their surroundings shifted with a hard lurch that catapulted Sabine off him. She caught herself on the ironwork before flying face first into the copper skin of whatever statue’s body part they inhabited.

“Father, wha—?”

The world rocked the other way, accompanied by a resounding crash of water on steel. Sabine’s willowy form rose sideways like a pennant. She screamed as her fingertips slipped. Father Molinari reached up, but the motion of the sea rolled him into the opposite wall.

Sabine lost her grip and fell on top of him. He shifted to put an arm around her, and they slid across the crate the other way. His head cracked against a metal strut, which left him seeing stars. Seconds later, they slid back.

“Stop screaming,” he whispered, though he couldn’t hear himself over the thundering war between ocean and boat.

She scrabbled at his shirt, trying to gain purchase before the opposite swing tore her loose. Sabine started to slip away, but stopped when her fingers hooked his belt. He braced a foot against the statue’s iron skeleton, grabbed her by the wrists, and pulled her up into his arms. A splitting crack of thunder pounded the ship as though cannons had fired ten feet above them.

“I don’t want to die,” she yelled, trembling. “We are going to sink!”

Father Molinari cradled the back of her head in one hand and pulled her chin to his shoulder so he could speak into her ear. “Have faith. Pray. Let us ask God to guide us through this storm.”

“I’m frightened.” She bit down on his shoulder.

“Ouch!” He tugged at her. “What are you doing?”

She continued clinging by her fangs, though she didn’t drink. She wants to hold on. He shifted himself around and wedged his body between two struts, a position that let him use only his legs to keep from flying around the crate. Books, dolls, and their spare clothes slid back and forth in the wrath of an angry ocean. Every time thunder crashed overhead, she twitched.

He clamped his arms around her, too tight for a breathing child to tolerate. Eventually, she released her teeth from his shoulder.

“Our Father, who art in Heaven…” Molinari hesitated before repeating the line, waiting for her quivering voice to join in.

For hours, they prayed and prayed, until at last, the seas calmed.

Sabine held up her silver crucifix in both hands, smiling. “He is listening.”

He patted her on the back. “He is indeed.”

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