Page 12 of Grotesque
“Sorcha,” I said.
“Listen, Sorcha. If anything strange starts to happen, don’t wait around to find out what it’ll do to you. You’re too young to be dealing with curses.”
I left before she could see how bad my hands were shaking. How could I admit that things had been strange since the moment I arrived? Who was I going to tell?
By the time I sat down across from Quint I was a nervous wreck.
His pleasant smile faltered. “You ok? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
A hysterical laugh bubbled up my throat. I rubbed at my neck and smiled instead, trying my damnedest to suppress it. “It’s been a long couple of days, what with moving into a new area. I haven’t been getting much sleep.”
Quint frowned. “Do you want to talk about it?”
The way he was looking at me, I wanted to. I wanted so badly to tell someone the truth of what was going on. “You’re going to think I’m crazy,” I said.
“Try me.”
It wasn’t like me to spill everything to a stranger, but I couldn’t keep it in anymore. My restraint had gone out the window with the sleepless nights and before I could think twice about the effect my words might have, I was spilling them on the table, laying everything bare to Quint.
I pressed my fingers against my temples as I told him about the moths. “They’re native to Africa and some parts of Europe. I know how crazy this sounds, but there is no way that many death’s-head moths could have been there.”
“And it wasn’t a dream?” It didn’t sound condescending when he asked, but I couldn’t stop myself from bristling.
“It wasn’t. I touched one. I just,” I shook my head, “I don’t know. I went to the library today to try and find any history on the house but all the lady told me was ghost stories.”
Quint took a sip of his coffee. “Not gonna lie, when you said you moved here, I didn’t expect you to be living in Glamis Manor. Hell, anywhere but that place. I know the stories she’s talking about, most of Bristol does. But,” he paused, leaning forward until I met his gaze, “I don’t think you’re crazy.”
I huffed. “You’re just saying that.”
“I’m not. A few years back me and some of my buddies went up there. I guess it would have been your grandmother I saw, Maxine, you look a lot like her from what I remember of her. She was sitting on the front porch reading a book.”
I watched syrup drip off the chicken on my plate, pooling on the waffles stacked beneath. I wasn’t sure what to make of that comment.
“A man, or what I thought was a man, walked out of the house. I don’t know if what I saw was real, your mind plays tricks on youwhen you’re scared, but he had big horns coming out of his head. He walked right over to her and kissed her on top of the head.”
My fork clattered across my plate as I fought the urge to roll my eyes. Great, he was making fun of me.
“I swear, the five of us were hiding in the woods, but when he looked up, I couldfeelhim looking at us. I’m not saying this to try and spook you further, but we saw that and ran. I’ve never been back.”
“Don’t play with me.”
Quint held up his hands. “Honest to God.”
“You’re telling me the vampire story is real?”
Quint shrugged. “I don’t know what he was, but it wasn’t Halloween, you feel me? Everyone that’s been to Glamis and survived has a different story. Three of the other guys saw it, but Jeremy swears he never saw a thing. I think he tells us that as much as himself though, to try and forget.”
I swallowed and asked the question that had been at the back of my mind since the library. “How many people have died at Glamis?”
Quint winced. “At least one or two a year go missing from the town. Sometimes there’s a body, other times,” he trailed off and took a sip of his coffee.
I stared at him. I slowly shut my jaw, which had dropped open at his response. “And no one has ever investigated that?” This was insane. Glamis, Macky, Rosaline, the town. It was all sheer madness. I couldn’t wrap my mind around any of it.
He shrugged. “This town has been around long enough to believe in curses. People that believe in curses don’t want anything to do with them.”
We ate in silence after that. No doubt he was trying to process what I’d said as much as I was trying to untangle everything I’d learned today.
Maybe I should tell mom what was going on. She would know her own mother better than anyone else. Wait, wouldn’t Mom have lived in the house at some point?
