Page 78 of Black Curtain

It crossed my mind that both of them were angry at themselves for not trying it.

“I’m not sure how it will even help us,” I admitted, looking between them. “Like with Nick’s blood. How would we even know if anything we saw with our light was real? At least with the blood it might be a memory. But how could Brick remember light? He can’t even seealeimiclight.”

“How did he make these things?” Nick knelt down by the body, touching the floor where the body appeared to be, and the blood. He lifted a hand, as if half-expecting to see the blood come off on his fingers. His white fingers remained clean. He glanced at me. “Photographs? Memories he had someone recreate with computer graphics? How do we know the people even looked like this? Some of it he said he got from newspapers. Would there be pictures?”

I frowned, thinking about that.

“The living light seems like a dead end,” I admitted, frowning. I glanced at Dex. “Seers can pull things off photographs sometimes, but we have no idea where he got these images, or if they’re even real. No photographs, no imprints. No living light. I doubt any of Brick’s witnesses would have been seers. Brick wouldn’t have been able to see the light, even if he pulled a memory off a seer by feeding on them. We have no idea of knowing which things could be real and which are just made up from other kinds of information.”

I bit my lip, fighting to think. This was making my head hurt.

“It’s all so confused,” Dalejem muttered. “None of it is real. All trickery and lies.”

I couldn’t agree with him more.

Nick had gone back to staring at the body.

He still knelt there when Black walked closer.

“What is that?” Black asked, gruff.

Nick looked up, then down at where Black pointed.

I walked closer, too.

I realized the dead man held something in his hand. His fingers were covered in blood, but there was something in his hand.

“A heart,” Nick said. “It even smells like one.” His nose wrinkled as he winced. I watched as a dawning understanding reached his face. “Fuck.”

“What?” I asked.

“A child.” Nick glanced up, giving me a sickened look. “It smells like a human child, Miri. Like a freshly killed human child.”

All of us stood there, grimacing.

Black walked up and knelt by the body’s feet.

“Barefoot,” he remarked. “And there are more symbols carved here… in his feet.”

“Sacrifice?” Dex suggested.

I walked around the body, and stared where Black did.

I saw the symbols, and realized they were similar to whatever had been woven into the carpet. I found myself noticing other things.

“There’s old blood on there,” I said, kneeling down on a different part of the rug. “Dried blood,” I added, glancing around at the others.

Kiko and Dex stood over the body now, too.

I pointed at the stains. “I thought this was a color difference before… a border on the overall design… but this is white here, see? This whole border used to be white, but it’s stained red and brown. Someone sewed these symbols all over it…” I pointed at the markings that looked similar to what Black found on the man’s feet.

“Weird, occult stuff,” I added. “Maybe that means something?”

“He’s black,” Dex observed, pointing at his own face, then at the man’s. “His clothes mark him as rich… well off, at least. Given the time period, that’s pretty fucking strange, isn’t it? Not unheard-of, but strange. He looks like a lord of the manor.” He frowned, staring down at the man’s face. “Could he be from somewhere else? Or in some kind of disguise?”

I shook my head. “I have no idea.”

“This is obviously some kind of ritual,” Black said, still looking at the male’s feet. “Miri’s right. It’s weird, occult shit. With the symbols and the dead baby heart…”

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