The Double Life of Incorporate Things (Magic Most Foul) by Hieber Leanna

Author:Hieber, Leanna [Hieber, Leanna]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Publisher: Deus Ex Victoriana
Published: 2013-11-28T00:00:00+00:00

I took stock of the corridor once more. It was empty, and yet, I felt I was not alone. The hallway stretched for a length that seemed absurdly long even for a grand estate, as if all proportions were off. At the end opposite me, an uncomfortably far distance indeed, I was faced by an oval portrait of a person whose details were too faint to make out. Anemic sconces on either side cast a subtle haze over the portrait’s façade. I tried to walk toward it, as it might be yet another clue, and it was the item pulling focus, the only thing truly lit with any brightness in this dim setting.

But, per that terrible convention of dreams, my least favorite of all the unfortunate tricks of the troubled mind, I could not move. Not forward, not backward. Not that I could go anywhere. A wall was to my back, the corridor’s end. Cool, carved wood paneling crested at the nape of my neck in arched patterns set within the fine mahogany. Leaving me to face the empty corridor with open doors and an unknown portrait. If I found my footing, at least I could go into the other rooms. But what might be in the other rooms was a question I doubted I wanted answered. The corridor answered for me.

With a slam all the doors at once shut of their own accord, and I started, backing against the end of the corridor behind me.

And then, one by one, in a frightening, invisible procession forward, the gas-lit sconces went out. First the lights illuminating the oval portrait went out. Doused. Instantly. Utter blackness lay in direct opposition of my place at the other end. And then from the end of the corridor forward, one by one, each set on either side of the narrow walls were snuffed out as if by a great wind. But there was no wind. And no one there to turn the key. Just an encroaching and all-encompassing darkness, creeping toward me. One set of sconces at a time. Like footsteps, but there were no footfalls. I tried to step back, to turn and run, but still damnably rooted. I tried to call out for someone, anyone, Jonathon’s name upon my lips, but no…

And then the darkness was upon me. My eyes were wide, the blackness thorough. There was a terrible, terrible pause in which I was helpless and sensory deprived.

Then an icy, unseen hand closed around my throat.

“This time you’re coming for me, are you?” came that horrid, familiar whisper of the demon in the pitch dark. Warm breath contrasted its icy strangle as it threw its own words back in my face.

Oh, God. It would be waiting. A congealed but yet incorporeal evil could never truly be killed, could it? It would just keep lying in wait… In New York, or England…it would always know me. Could it ever be bested?

I renounce thee… My mind screamed, words that had helped to keep the beast at bay more than once.

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