Page 197 of Anathema

Even so, I hurried out of the room and back down the staircase to the first floor. The door to the cellar stood open, and I shook my head, refusing to investigate there. Don’t be a fool. Instead, I headed in the direction of the entry door.

Something struck the back of my head on an explosion of stars and a jarring shockwave of pain. Pressure swelled in my skull and sinuses, my vision blurring in and out of focus. I swayed on my feet, desperate to keep upright, and as the room spun around, I searched for something to anchor myself, to catch my bearings again.

In the center of the nauseating whirlwind, a tall, shadowy figure watched me crash to the floor.

CHAPTER FIFTY-SIX

MAEVYTH

Drip. Drip. Drip.

Sharp pain throbbed in my skull. I groaned and winced at the ache there. Cold. So cold. A relentless tremble vibrated across my bones, my body failing to find warmth. The gnawing cold locked every muscle into an endless shiver. A horrible stench assaulted my nose, like that of a rotting animal, and I opened my eyes to a glass shield, beyond which I could see wooden rafters and shadows flickering across them. Surrounding walls closed in on me in a suffocating clutch.

Drip. Drip. Drip.

The ice box. What Aleysia and I used to call the ice casket that Uncle Felix used for showing and storing bodies before embalming them.

A gnawing cold chewed deeper into my flesh.

Above me sat about thirty pounds of ice scattered over a metal lid, with an opening through which to see. Enclosing the ice to keep it chilled was the wooden lid with a glass shield over the face–often locked in place.

I gasped a breath and pushed against the metal panel on top of me. “Help me! Help!” A numbing ache swelled in my fingers and toes. Worse than that, though, I had an intense fear of confined spaces, and I could feel the prickles across my chest, as panic burrowed its way into my head.

Fire zapped up my wrist when I banged harder against the lid of the coffin. “Help me!”

A shadow slipped past, and I quieted, breaths shaky as I peered through the glass in search of whatever it was. “Uncle Felix?”

The figure slowly stepped into view of the glass shield, and my heart caught in my throat. Half of his face looked as if it’d been melted away, just like that of the captain’s whom Moros had chained in his basement. Nothing but a blank canvas of pale skin. His neck had shortened, his head merged with his shoulders, and I could just make out what reminded me of long, spindly spider legs sticking out from his back, shadowy limbs seen over the top of his head. Macerated lips looked to have been chewed away by something, his skeletal teeth bared. He tapped a finger to the glass, the bone exposed as though something had chomped the skin and flesh there, too.

I let out a gut-wrenching scream, and twitching, he slammed his fist against the box, releasing a grunt. Shallow, panted breaths escaped me when he stepped out of view again, and my mind spun in chaos, trying to imagine how I might escape.

At the click of what I presumed was the lock, the wooden lid flew back, and my stomach curled with tension and terror. “No,” I whimpered. I fought to hold the metal lining closed, as a force tugged hard against me. Using every ounce of my strength, I clutched the ice-laden lid, so cold a white-hot pain streaked across my hand.

Uncle Felix snarled and pounded his fist against my fingers.

I let out a scream when the crushing pain radiated across my hand, and I curled my fingers into my chest. The ice clattered to the floor as he tore back the metallic lid, and I stared up in horror, taking in the whole of his deformities. The exposed ribs on half his chest, the pale and bony state of his body, as though he’d starved for months. And his exposed genitals that hung between his thighs.

He leaned over me and ran his chewed-up finger down my cheek in a gentle caress, but my whole body quaked with cold and fear. His hand drifted further down, to the bodice of my dress.

Tears sprang to my eyes, my thoughts spinning back to the night I found him fondling the Lyverian girl’s corpse. He ran his mutated palm over my breast, and I clenched my teeth.

“No!” I slapped his hand away.

A terrifying roar ripped out of him, vibrating his bony ribs, the sound skating down my spine. He gripped my hair, and a blistery pain licked my scalp.

One hard yank nearly threw me out of the casket, but I clung to the edge of it, fighting him. I punched at his arms, trying to loosen his grip, which only seemed to enrage him, as he snarled and snapped his teeth at me.

“Uncle Felix! Stop!” I screamed, wrestling with him until I tumbled out of the casket onto the floor. The impact dislodged his grip of my hair, and I scrambled backward, noting the state of his legs, the bones sticking out in odd places, as if they’d been busted.

He lurched toward me, and on instinct, I held up my hand, imagining the spine glyph. Nothing but a pile of bones spewed forth, clacking against the floor.

Uncle Felix stared down at them for a moment, and in his distraction, I pushed to my feet, backing myself away. He staggered closer. Closer.

Desperate for escape, I trailed my gaze over the room in search of somewhere I could run. Nothing but walls of specimens and strange fluids, and his grotesque tools that I imagined he’d planned to use on me. The only exit was beyond him.

I had to get past him, somehow.

He lurched again, and I lifted my palm for the Aeryz glyph. An invisible force blasted him backward, slamming him against the adjacent wall.

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