Page 66 of Grotesque
I rolled the shred of bacon around in my mouth, chewed and swallowed. My feelings were a mess. Help Corban, don’t help him. Be afraid of him, possibly be falling in love with him.
I stacked more bacon onto a piece of toast and took a massive bite. I needed more information. I’d been blindly letting Corban lead me into his schemes. I needed to know for certain that what I was doing was the right thing, I needed more than his word to go on, basically.
I made my way back to the bedroom quietly. He hadn’t moved an inch, his large body sprawled over the bed, both wings now draped over either side of the mattress. His glamour must have unspooled while I was cooking.
I ran my fingers through his hair, scratching my nails over his scalp. Corban let out a heavy, contented sigh. I waited another few minutes to ensure he was still in a deep sleep before padding downstairs to the library.
I pulled Rosaline’s diary and the sketchbook from their hiding spots. If there were other accounts tucked away there wasn’t time to search for them.I reread Rosaline’s last entry and flipped through the remainder of the book to make sure I hadn’t missed anything.
January 10, 1812
Tonight will be my last entry. I have prepared a nice meal for Gerald and I. A last supper where I will tell him the truth before leaving him forever. I can’t go on like this a moment longer. I have tasted the divine and know now I cannot bear to live without it.
Chills raced down my spine. That’s the night she would have killed Gerald. To prove herself to Corban. My fingers froze between the pages. Corban said he needed three things to be free. What if he was lying? What if he needed a sacrifice toshatter the curse entirely?No, he would have gone ahead and killed Quint if that theory was correct. He was too desperate for his freedom. Right?
Unless that sacrifice is you,a little voice taunted.
I looked up, my ears straining for any sign that he might have woken. I didn’t hear anything but that didn’t release the tension from my muscles. He could spill from a dark corner and I’d have no idea how long he had been lurking there.
I swallowed, tucking Rosaline’s journal beneath a couch cushion before turning to the sketchbook.
Monsters of various forms were outlined in charcoal. I flipped past the pages I had already seen. Flipping, flipping until I slowed. Slowed as the images morphed into the shape of a man I recognized.
Corban’s face was gaunt, narrower, like the apparitions sketched earlier in the book. But it was him. The eyes were unmistakable, their cruelty palpable.
On the next page “fear the night that would consume the light” was written. Next to it was a stunted looking dragon with long tapered horns and curved membraned wings.I’d seen that dragon before. I flipped back to the beginning of the book until I found what I was looking for. The first image of the dragon with its diamond-shaped pupils.
Vertical… slitted pupils… like the ones I’d glimpsed last night, when Corban had been lost in his rage.
My stomach dropped. That wasn’t the only place I’d seen the dragon. I jumped from the couch and ran outside. It couldn’t be.
All doubt vanished the moment I stepped off the front porch and looked up.
The arch above the doorway was empty.
Where the twisted dragon had coiled over the entrance, there was nothing but a vacant space.
My heart thundered. I looked down at the book, to the likeness I should have seen carved in stone. Corban had never come to me in this form, but it was him. There was no other explanation as to why the space was free, while he slept in my bed.
Another memory came to me, of a long dark shadow slinking into the manor and morphing into a man. The shadow on the video.
My tongue felt dry when I tried to swallow.
I pulled my phone out of my pocket and snapped a photo of the doorway. Even if I never showed anyone– at least I would have the proof for my own peace of mind. I flipped to the next page, scurrying back to the library. Only this time I shut the door and turned the lock.
I hope to God that no one has been put in a position where they must find my account of the monster. I made certain he could not get to my children, or their children. If he has, then his magic is stronger than I feared. His will more hungry than I could have imagined.
There is no light in the darkness. Only things made of it can slink out in the night. Evil things that want to devour.
His silver promises are empty. Do not let him out.
The creak of the floorboard above my head forced me off the couch. I scrambled, snatching the sketchbook from the floor as it went flying from my lap, and sprinted across the room to hide it.
A soft clink sounded when I dropped the volume a second time. “Oh fuck me,” I whispered. I forced the book between two others, snatched the object from the floor and hurried to the door. I threw the lock aside before taking a deep breath, fighting to regain my composure as I pulled it open.
Corban stood in the doorway, his brow arched when I stumbled back, my hand flying to my chest. “Fuck's sake!”
A slow turn of his mouth that couldn’t quite be called a smile touched his face. “Did I scare you?”
