its
hinges and nearly slamming her into the opposite wall. She dropped
instinctively to one knee just in time to avoid being smacked upside the head
by a heavy cabinet flying out of the now open room and smashing through the
door opposite.
Behind her, Nia said, “Well, this confirms it! The house
is definitely trying to protect something. We just – oh dear.”
“Oh dear” seemed a rather mild reaction to the sight of
an undead child with half his head gone, clutching a shard of glass almost as
long as he was tall. He was backed up by what looked like a very angry chest of
drawers.
Since shooting the kid seemed to be only a temporary
solution, Gail pointed her gun at the drawers instead, though she was pretty
sure bullets wouldn’t do her any good there either.
“I have a theory,” Nia said softly. “I believe that if we
locate Mister Connery, the protection spells will automatically disable themselves
as their purpose will have been fulfilled.”
“But wouldn’t they want to stop us from taking him?”
Arthur answered in equally hushed tones.
“If I’m right, they only want to stop the wrong people
from taking –”
“Why the fuck are you whispering?” Gail snapped over her
shoulder.
The boy flew at them, screaming. Gail instinctively
stepped to the side, realizing belatedly that, in doing so, she had exposed the
magicians to the boy’s glass sword. Thankfully, Nia was prepared. With a flick
of her wrist, she tossed out another predrawn spell which sent the child flying
backwards into the chest, which reared up like an angry bear.
I’m going to get killed by furniture, Gail thought
with dull despair.
“This must be the last line of defense,” Nia was saying
excitedly. “Mister Connery must be nearby. Where did you first see the child,
detective?”
“Playroom,” Gail said. Unfortunately, the dead boy and
his bureau buddy were standing between them and it. As if sensing their
intentions, the chest began menacing them by opening and slamming its drawers.
“Detective Lin,” Nia said. “Do you happen to remember
where this playroom is?”
“Yeah, right next to the evil furniture.”
“I see. We’ll have to distract it then!”
Before Gail could even think of a response, Nia slipped
past her with another flimsy piece of paper in her hand. The boy lunged for her
and probably would have run her through, if Arthur hadn’t scurried forward and
tripped him.
Realizing that standing around like an idiot wasn’t
helping anyone, Gail holstered her useless gun and grabbed the boy’s wrist
before he could stab the glass into Arthur’s calf. She tried to twist the
makeshift blade out of his fingers, but the child was beyond pain and only
tried to bite her.
There was a rumbling sound followed by another massive bang! Gail turned, expecting to see Nia crushed like a butterfly beneath the
dresser. Instead she found the chest on fire, smashing itself desperately into
the walls in an attempt to put out the flames.
It’s going to burn the whole place down. But the
fire died as quickly as it had flashed to life, leaving the drawers blackened,
cracked, and apparently dead. Nia gave the still dresser a light pat with the
back of her hand then, apparently satisfied, darted into the playroom.
The boy twisted his head and tried to bite Gail’s hand
again.
“Cut that out.” Gail took hold of the boy’s hand and
smacked it against the wall until the glass shard shattered to a useless
splinters. The boy lunged at her again, but Arthur was there, throwing his
jacket over the boy’s head and tying his arms to his sides with the sleeves.
“Go make sure Nia’s okay,” he said as he continued
trussing the boy up with some impressive knotwork. “I’ll keep hold of him until
she can deal with it.”
Knowing they had no time to argue, Gail ran past the
burnt out shell of drawers and into the playroom.
It was chaos. Toys had fallen – flown? – off of shelves
and smashed on the floor. Nia was
hinges and nearly slamming her into the opposite wall. She dropped
instinctively to one knee just in time to avoid being smacked upside the head
by a heavy cabinet flying out of the now open room and smashing through the
door opposite.
Behind her, Nia said, “Well, this confirms it! The house
is definitely trying to protect something. We just – oh dear.”
“Oh dear” seemed a rather mild reaction to the sight of
an undead child with half his head gone, clutching a shard of glass almost as
long as he was tall. He was backed up by what looked like a very angry chest of
drawers.
Since shooting the kid seemed to be only a temporary
solution, Gail pointed her gun at the drawers instead, though she was pretty
sure bullets wouldn’t do her any good there either.
“I have a theory,” Nia said softly. “I believe that if we
locate Mister Connery, the protection spells will automatically disable themselves
as their purpose will have been fulfilled.”
“But wouldn’t they want to stop us from taking him?”
Arthur answered in equally hushed tones.
“If I’m right, they only want to stop the wrong people
from taking –”
“Why the fuck are you whispering?” Gail snapped over her
shoulder.
The boy flew at them, screaming. Gail instinctively
stepped to the side, realizing belatedly that, in doing so, she had exposed the
magicians to the boy’s glass sword. Thankfully, Nia was prepared. With a flick
of her wrist, she tossed out another predrawn spell which sent the child flying
backwards into the chest, which reared up like an angry bear.
I’m going to get killed by furniture, Gail thought
with dull despair.
“This must be the last line of defense,” Nia was saying
excitedly. “Mister Connery must be nearby. Where did you first see the child,
detective?”
“Playroom,” Gail said. Unfortunately, the dead boy and
his bureau buddy were standing between them and it. As if sensing their
intentions, the chest began menacing them by opening and slamming its drawers.
“Detective Lin,” Nia said. “Do you happen to remember
where this playroom is?”
“Yeah, right next to the evil furniture.”
“I see. We’ll have to distract it then!”
Before Gail could even think of a response, Nia slipped
past her with another flimsy piece of paper in her hand. The boy lunged for her
and probably would have run her through, if Arthur hadn’t scurried forward and
tripped him.
Realizing that standing around like an idiot wasn’t
helping anyone, Gail holstered her useless gun and grabbed the boy’s wrist
before he could stab the glass into Arthur’s calf. She tried to twist the
makeshift blade out of his fingers, but the child was beyond pain and only
tried to bite her.
There was a rumbling sound followed by another massive bang! Gail turned, expecting to see Nia crushed like a butterfly beneath the
dresser. Instead she found the chest on fire, smashing itself desperately into
the walls in an attempt to put out the flames.
It’s going to burn the whole place down. But the
fire died as quickly as it had flashed to life, leaving the drawers blackened,
cracked, and apparently dead. Nia gave the still dresser a light pat with the
back of her hand then, apparently satisfied, darted into the playroom.
The boy twisted his head and tried to bite Gail’s hand
again.
“Cut that out.” Gail took hold of the boy’s hand and
smacked it against the wall until the glass shard shattered to a useless
splinters. The boy lunged at her again, but Arthur was there, throwing his
jacket over the boy’s head and tying his arms to his sides with the sleeves.
“Go make sure Nia’s okay,” he said as he continued
trussing the boy up with some impressive knotwork. “I’ll keep hold of him until
she can deal with it.”
Knowing they had no time to argue, Gail ran past the
burnt out shell of drawers and into the playroom.
It was chaos. Toys had fallen – flown? – off of shelves
and smashed on the floor. Nia was
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