Paranormal Casebooks 04 - Magnetic Sleep by Vaughn Entwistle

Author:Vaughn Entwistle [Entwistle, Vaughn]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Masque Publishing LLC
Published: 2021-06-25T07:00:00+00:00

Chapter 20: The Bridesmaids of Sleep

From the darkness came the jangle of keys, the rasp of a key turning in a lock, and then the juddering of a door opening in a screeeeel of rusty hinges. Then a stain of light appeared and flared, dazzling in the darkness.

The light came from a lantern swinging in the grip of the giant Cossack. As he stepped inside the space, the lantern light sketched the space: an underground cellar; an arched roof of fat round cobbles, the floor, rough paving slabs, cracked and tilting. The air was chill and root-cellar dank. But the cellar was not empty, for it was filled with female mannequins arranged in rows.

The lantern revealed that the cellar was infrequently visited. Huge spider webs draped every corner and nests of black cobwebs dangled from the ceiling swaying like underwater weed in the chill air currents. Some of the cobwebs had even begun to accumulate upon the mannequins in a mockery of a woman’s veil, as though the women were the bridesmaids of sleep.

More figures carrying lanterns filed into the low-ceilinged space: Madame Xylander and two strangers. The first was a bull-chested man with the bandy legs and the weather-beaten face of a seaman who has spent years treading the salt-brined decks of ships. His companion was a wizened Chinese man. He wore the traditional silk robes of China and his hair was tied in a long black braid. The small group approached the first line of mannequins and the Cossack raised his lantern high, washing the figures with a squirming amber light that falsely animated them into twitching phantoms. But they were not ghosts. Nor were they mannequins or waxworks. They stood silent and mute, each with her head slumped to one side or the other, eyes tight shut in an unnatural, death-like sleep. Each was still dressed in the nightgown she was captured in, now smudged, stained, and tattered.

“Lumme!” the sea captain grunted. “Is they all dead?”

Madame Xylander approached the nearest one and stroked a smooth cheek with the back of her hand. “Not dead, merely sleeping.”

“Sleeping?” the sea captain’s voice was full of skepticism. He cautiously touched the arm of the nearest and jerked his hand away. “She’s as cold as death!”

“They are in a deep, deep sleep—a state of suspended animation, like an animal in hibernation. In this trance they do not hunger. Nor do they feel the cold. It is for their own safety. This way they cannot injure themselves trying to escape, ensuring the goods are as I promised.”

The Chinese man moved closer, his eyes greedily roaming the living and breathing goods he had already made a downpayment on. He smiled, “They are young and fresh. My buyers will be happy.” He paused as his eyes scanned the rows of sleeping girls. “I count only sixteen. Our arrangement was for twenty.”

Xylander turned to face him, her face thrown into deep shadow so that only the dark glitter of her eyes showed. “We have another week before the captain’s ship sails.

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