Page 21 of The Shadowed Oracle
Fast as shecould manage without falling over herself, Ingrid spun and flung herself backward against the elevator door. She extended her arms out, gripping the flat surface at first, then clawing at it like she might pry the steel open with her nails.
“So lost,” the voice continued from the darkness. “How did you get here, littleViator?”
The meaning of the stranger’s words escaped her. But the sound of it. That otherworldly growl, the genderless intonation. It stapled her eyelids to the bottom of her brows as she peered into the black void. No matter how long her eyes had to adjust to the darkness, she saw nothing but empty space in front of her.
“Where are you?” she asked finally.
“Here,” the voice responded calmly. “There. Everywhere.”
What does that mean? What do you want?Ingrid thought instinctively. These were the kind of questions someone would’ve asked when they found themselves trapped with an invisible entity such as this. But Ingrid asked no such thing. She didn’t have any curiosity left. The details seemed irrelevant now. Since the moment Dean had shown her those symbols, she knew. In some deep and forgotten part of herself, she could feel it. She was dealing with something she couldn’t understand.
All she had to focus on now was survival. Which meant biding her time until she figured out a way to escape.
“Why can’t I see you?” Ingrid asked, gulping.
“You haven’t gathered that yet, girl? Do parents not tell their children horror stories anymore?”
“I didn’t have parents,” Ingrid retorted coldly.
The Thing laughed a guttural, scratchy laugh. “Everyone comes from somewhere. From someone. Now, if you do not know where that is, then that is another matter. We could make a game of it.”
A game. This thing wanted to play games. Yes, she could feel that too. It wanted to toy with her. She sensed the violent intent, but strangely, she did not fear for her life. Not yet, anyhow.
“Help me understand,” Ingrid said tactfully. “I want to. Please help me understand what it is you’re trying to tell me? Why you’ve been sending me those messages?”
She couldn’t picture this thing owning a phone. But if nothing else, it bought her more time.
“Helped you?” the Thing snapped. Annoyed or confused, Ingrid couldn’t tell. She still couldn’t make sense of the odd octave and guttural clicks that followed certain syllables. “You’ve mistaken me, child. I’ve sent you nothing. I’ve never helpedyou.” Disgust dripped off that last word.
“Forgive me,” Ingrid replied with haste. “I’m so confused. So scared.” She let out a small, nervous whimper. “I’ve been getting these messages. From someone I don’t know. They say they want to help me, but I—I think they want to hurt me.”
A gust of wind blew toward Ingrid. Then came a strange, sickening noise. Like joints crunching. Bones popping.
The Thing must’ve moved closer, she thought. Must be inspecting her, closing the gap between them, or?—
Her guessing halted when the Thing’s breath crept into her hair. “And you deduced that this person… was me?” it asked.
Ingrid swallowed hard. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to offend you.” She dropped her head even lower, looking pitiful, but the act didn’t work this time.
Nails scratched at the metal doors and shocked Ingrid back into a frozen state. She held her breath, feeling another gust of air coming toward her. It was all she could do to keep from screaming once the sharp talons tickled her abdomen, lightly grazing the fabric of her shirt, and moving downward until it reached the pocket of her jeans.
“Detestable things,” the Thing said.
Ingrid watched numbly as an unseen force drew her phone from her pocket, lifted it in front of her face, and smashed it into pieces.
“We all have them,” Ingrid laughed nervously. “What do you mean?”
“We? We?!” It was all the Thing said for a long while, like it was trying to solve a riddle.
Then with a cackle so loud and jarring that it caused Ingrid to flinch, the Thing asked, “Do you truly not know what you are, child?”
Ingrid’s eyes widened innocently. “What am I?”
Yet another cold breeze rushed at her.
She recoiled slightly.
“You are sickness,” it said. “You are death. You are a plague to my people.”
