I don’t have to look. From the disturbing sounds of the ripping, cracking, and tearing that are pulsating in my ears, I know they are taking him apart piece by piece.
August sits beside me, pulls me against him and holds me while I put my head on his shoulder, gripping him tightly. No one deserves this. I know I didn’t know Ben at all and have no idea who he is. But seeing someone murdered and taken apart only to be eaten, is going to be a nightmare that I will see for the rest of my life.
All the sounds stop, until there is silence besides the trolls sitting there and talking to each other in their grunting language.
***
“I really wish I had a watch with me to see how long we have been sitting here behind these rocks,” I mumble.
After the incident with Ben, one of the females laid down to rest. There had been three more goats that the other two trolls took their turns feasting on.
I’m monitoring the situation. “Do you think we should try running for it? Maybe sneak up to the edge and run through?”
Before August has an opportunity to answer, I grab his arm. “Wait. What. The. Hell.” I grab August’s head and pull it over to the hole.
August looks at me and then back through the hole. “That is Ben again.”
I poke at his arm several times. “This whole place is making less sense than ever.”
We pull back and choose not to watch any of what happens. Our ears already have to hear it once again to know what is going on over there.
“Let me put my thinking cap on.” He puts his hands to his head, and I can tell he is thinking hard about this. After several moments, he lifts his head.
I lean forward waiting to see what he has come up with. “What do you have?”
He looks up at the trees and then into my eyes. “I’ve got nothing.”
I let my body fall back to the rock and let out a small grunt. I think back to the other two displays that we experienced.
“Okay, so the other two displays we were in, the last one had Jack the Ripper, aka Jackie, where we found Officer Rodriguez dead, right?”
“Right, and then we saw her magically appear alive.” August points out.
“Yes. It’s the same thing here; except we didn’t see her die again, but maybe if we’d stayed longer it would have happened again. The only two people we’ve seen die and come back to life are people that are missing outside of the museum. I add Officer Rodriguez to the category, because obviously, she is missing if she is here.”
He nods and then rubs at his chin. “That sounds fair.”
“What about when we were in Sleepy Hollow? We didn’t see any dead bodies come back to life.”
August quits rubbing at his chin and rests his hand on his knee. “No, but we did see Katrina being taken away. Maybe she would have appeared back in that house?”
“I’m going to assume that for now, she would have popped back in her home. She did look familiar to me. I can’t place where I saw her before. Maybe she is another one of the missing people that I have seen on TV and just can’t remember.”
August’s eyes look from one side to the other like a ticking clock. “I think that I did see her on one of the flyers, but I think she may have had really short blond hair, like a pixie cut.”
“Oh. Oh,” I start snapping my fingers. “Josselyn Shaw. I remember seeing that flyer, but the picture was black and white, and it was a bad photo. Those flyers were everywhere. She also had on heavy eye make-up, and in Sleepy Hollow she had a more natural look going on.”
“That means each display that we have been in contain a missing person within it. The question left is, why?”
Chapter 20
There are missing people inside of the Glass Vault somehow. I want to sit here and figure out what exactly is happening, but more than anything I want to get out of this nightmare and back home, but that doesn’t seem to be happening. Maisie and Neven must for sure be in here somewhere. I don’t even know if we can find the portal to leave, or if we can even find them.
“I think we would have to find Quinsey Wolfe to answer all of our questions, and I’m sure he’s nowhere inside of these scenes of horror,” I say. I don’t know if this Quinsey person even exists.
August is looking through the hole. “The trolls might be going to sleep now.”
I look and see one of the female trolls is already lying down with her head on the ground and her eyes shut making grunting and choking noises, like she has something stuck in her throat. I try to ignore where my thoughts are leading with that, hoping it’s not a bone or something. I turn my head and look at the other troll.
The sulky troll, the one that doesn’t get along with the other two, is quietly patting the hard dirt ground, as if she is softening up a feathered down mattress. It seems ridiculous to me. Even if she sat there and patted and smacked at the ground for an hour, it isn’t going to get much softer.
She finally lies down on her side in her freshly patted dirt and brings her legs up to her chest like a small baby. Her matted hair falls over her face, and I can’t really tell, but I think that she closes her eyes.
I sit up and turn to August. “Okay, we need a plan now.”
August sits back and pats the tips of his fingers together. He takes turns letting his pinky touch all the way to the index fingers and then starts over. “The plan will be…” he pauses to continue his thought. “We’ll go as far as we can to the left side of the bridge, get to the edge of the hole under the bridge, and then run a mad dash through it.”
“That was pretty much all I could come up with, too,” I sigh. “I just don’t know what we are going to do if the trolls wake up.”
He takes a look over at them. “This would have been a whole lot easier if there would have only been one troll.”
“I know, right. Isn’t it supposed to be one troll to each bridge? I have never seen multiple trolls sharing bridges. Not that I have seen a troll until now,” I huff.
“They’re spaced pretty well apart. We should just walk as quietly as we can, and if one moves then start running. I think that if we ran from the beginning, the pounding of our feet would most likely wake them up,” August says.
I look at the weapons that we have which is better than nothing. I’m not sure how well a dagger and a sword are going to do against these trolls, if the people holding the weapons have zero experience using them.
August stands up and pulls his sword out. “Are you ready to do this?”
My hand shakes unsteadily as I take out the small dagger at my waist. “No, not really, but it’s no use sitting here dying behind a rock.”
August creeps as quietly as he can, and I follow right behind him. We try to avoid any twigs that have the possibility of snapping or any leaves that might make a loud crunch.
When August gets to the barrier first, it pushes him back slightly. He moves out of the trees and takes his first step into the lush field with small tiny flowers all around.
The sun’s beams fall to the ground in brilliant rays, and sadness hits me for a moment at how beautiful this place is. There is a hidden ugliness that gives nothing a real chance to live here. Are the displays in the museum real? And if they are, how are they transporting us to places like this? I shake the thoughts out of my head.
August and I make our way to the bridge. Where we are right now, I can’t see the trolls underneath the bridge. My hands have stopped shaking, but my heart is beating incredibly fast, so fast I can’t believe I’m not having a heart attack.
I don’t dare say anything to August. I’m afraid to make even the smallest sound. I’m squeezing the dagger so hard in my hand that I may have a permanent imprint of the weapon in my palm once I release it.
As August gets to the bridge, he stops and turns his head to listen closely for any sounds coming from the trolls. I move to his side when all I hear is snoring, stopping beside him to slowly take a few deep breaths. Outwardly, August appears calm, and I know I look calmer than I am on the inside.<
br />
The stonework of the bridge up close is rustic, and I run my hands across one of the rocks. It’s rough with a slight shine. As if there are microscopic diamonds embedded that you can’t see, unless the sunlight hits it in just the right spot.
I pull my hand back and look at August who is already waiting to start walking again. My legs begin moving, and I walk in front of him, so I can lead the way. As we get closer to the opening under the bridge, I can see where the grass starts to thin out. There are no more small flowers that exist in this part of the grass. Eventually, there is no grass at all. There is only soft dirt that becomes hardened. You can kick up the softened part, but the dark brown dirt looks to be packed so tightly that it might as well be concrete.
I slow my steps down and walk as quietly as I can to the hole. I plaster my body so close to the wall that I imagine I’m one with it. I hope that I can stay out of sight here.
We reach the edge of the opening, and I’m going to have to peer around the corner to look if I can see anything. I hear a loud snoring and gurgling from the sleeping trolls. I slowly move my head around the corner and get a big whiff of body odor and decomposition. All three continue to be sleeping.
Beneath the bridge the lighting is dim, but there is enough light seeping inside that I can see everything clearly. The ceiling is high with long fissures running along the inside of it. Each time these trolls go up it and then leap down with their prey is pure madness.
The sulky troll continues to be in the fetal position. A huge puddle of drool runs from her mouth to the ground, where a large amount of her hair is soaking in it.
The second female is on her back with her mouth wide open, and I can see every single one of her teeth on display. I suddenly feel the urge to find a toothbrush and scrub at my teeth repeatedly to make sure they are clean. The troll’s teeth are black, green, brown, and yellow all mixed together full of old food, holes, decay and maybe even mold.
I gaze at the male troll. His leg continuously makes a twitching motion, while his stomach makes a strange, gurgling sound.
The smell becomes overwhelming, and I pull back and nod at August that it’s all right for us to go. I breathe through my mouth to keep myself from gagging against the smell.
I start walking, but August pulls me back and shakes his head. He points at himself and then at the troll nest. He wants to go first, and I don’t want to waste time arguing, so I allow him to walk in first. He grabs my hand and squeezes it in his grasp, rubbing his thumb between my thumb and forefinger before letting go and moving forward. I follow slowly behind him.
Our steps are so quiet that a mouse wouldn’t even be able to keep up with us. I didn’t realize a bridge could seem so long to cross, but this one is.
August and I barely make it a few feet underneath when there is a clacking sound. We freeze in our spot. Something is on top of the bridge, and I know from the sound it’s one of those stupid goats.
August’s look tells me to run. Just as we begin to move, I see one of the troll’s eyes open. They are red, the exact shade of blood. We make it halfway to the end when August is thrown back. I stop and turn around. One of the female trolls has her hand around him and is about to lift him up.
I don’t think. I just run with my dagger and start stabbing her hand repeatedly. Blood liquid spews from the wounds. She yells a loud sound of frustration which rumbles the ground around us. The troll releases him with blood continuing to flow where I injured her.
There are loud footsteps above us on top of the bridge where one of the trolls has gone to grab the goat. The goat is howling trying to escape. The other two trolls are standing by, looking at us with hunger written all over their faces.
One of the trolls runs for us. August has his sword in hand. He goes to the side and slices the Achilles tendon right above one of the troll’s rotten looking feet. “Go,” he yells.
We both run as fast as we can to the other side of the bridge. August reaches the barrier right before I do. He starts to get sucked through. Suddenly, I’m being pulled back by a big, pale, yellow hand wrapping around my waist. “August!” I scream.
He looks back in terror and begins to come back for me. “Perrie!” It’s too late, and he vanishes into thin air.
Where he was just standing, now all I see is a field on the other side. I start to scream and can’t stop. I grip the dagger with such force for fear that I might drop it.
I try to free my arm with the dagger, but I can’t. The troll has my arm clenched in her grip and is not letting go. The hand tightens a little more, and then with luck on my side she rotates me to her other hand. I’m pulled to her face for her to give me a proper look. It’s the sulky troll, and her face is pissed.
There is only red that I see in those vicious eyes. After she rotated me, my hand with the dagger is now free, and I don’t think, I act. I pull my hand back and thrust the dagger right in the center of her eye. Her hold on me releases, and she roars the loudest cry I have heard from any of them so far. I don’t even hesitate when my body hits the ground, I run.
The ground vibrates worse than an earthquake. My entire body is nothing but pain from the fall, but I’m going to fight that pain. I run to the barrier and don’t take the chance of looking back.
Please take me I silently repeat over and over inside my head. As soon as I reach the barrier and hit it, there is wind that begins to flow around my body and drag me forward. The last thing I hear are their angry howls, until silence forms a shield around me.
Chapter 21
My feet touch solid ground. I fall forward and catch myself with my forearms and hands before my face makes contact with the grass below.
I roll over quickly to look behind me, making sure that none of the trolls made it through the barrier. I lie there for a few moments and let myself breathe, hard and rapidly, until I calm down.
I look around, and I don’t see August anywhere. The worry hits me, and I think about how he landed in a different area in the Jack the Ripper display. Maybe the same thing happened here.
Pulling myself up to stand, I brush the dirt off my dress. Another dress that falls to my ankles, I see. This one has capped sleeves just over my shoulder. The top half is a dark red, and the bottom half is a brown shade that resembles the color of tree bark.
My shoes are brown flats that match the color of the bottom of the dress. I pat around my waist and find no weapons. Not the best news, but not the worst because I have no idea where I am. I move my hair out of my face, and it falls in curls that brush the top of my shoulders.
I think back to just minutes ago. When I was with the trolls and fell to the ground, I was in so much pain from the hit—I no longer feel the pain that had radiated. The same thing happened with the cut to my arm from Fannie.
So, if you are hurt in one display and go to the next, you are magically healed? It sounds dumb, and right now I don’t care. I’m just relieved that I feel okay.
All I see are woods. Ahead in the distance there is a small cottage. Cloudy, gray smoke pumps upward out of the chimney. I’m not sure if I even want to know who or what is in that house.
I turn around and touch along the barrier to see how wide it goes. I yank my hand back, afraid that it will suck me back through. I have no intention of going back to the trolls to become a meal, like one of those goats that kept trying to parade its way across the bridge.
The trees in the surrounding area are tall and wide enough to climb. I look at the house, and then back up at the tree. One more time toward the house and shake my head. I postpone walking to the cottage and attempt to climb the tree to see how far I can see.
I walk over to the nearest tree and see that there are insects trailing all around it. I have seen worse, I’m not afraid of any insect today, as long as it isn’t a monstrous size. Okay, I don’t want to think that right now since that could be a possibility here.
There is a branch right above my head, and I grab hold of it. I start to climb up the tree and then slip dow
n because the stupid dress is getting in the way. I attempt it again and don’t even care how much the dress rides up. I finally manage to lodge my foot onto the branch and pull my other leg up. Couldn’t I have pants when I get past one of these barriers, for once?
I climb a few more branches. When I reach for the next one, I can’t reach it, and my hand connects with a barrier. I grunt and yank my hand back. The barriers are more like a rectangular prism than a rectangle.
Everywhere I look I can’t see any sign of human life. Where can August be? The cottage is the only possible sign with light illuminating from glass windows. There are too many trees and bushes that block my view, and I can’t see any other buildings anywhere.
There is a small scratching sound. I stay perfectly still, and a small furry thing scurries past me. I almost lose my entire balance and fall out of the tree. I look at the ground and realize how far up in the tree I am; that would not have been a nice fall or landing. I look up and find the furry thing that scurried past is only a squirrel. I sigh in relief.
After observing my surroundings, I climb down slowly. I hear the crunch of leaves, and I grip the branch. A small deer zooms beneath me in the forest below. This place seems to be filled with animals, unlike the woods we were in before. Well, maybe not filled since I have only seen two animals and some insects.
As I lower myself branch by branch, my feet connect with the ground. I just so happen to make it down and not break my neck in the process.
My only option is to check out the cottage. Maybe August is inside there. What if he isn’t even in this display; what if he landed somewhere else?
“One thing at a time, Perrie,” I say to myself.
I walk with a purpose, trying to make as little noise as possible, but there are dried leaves and twigs from the trees scattered everywhere along the ground. Making noise is unavoidable.
No more mysterious animals have popped out from anywhere. The only other creatures I have seen are little birds chirping and tweeting either to themselves or other birds. I think too soon. There is a small, brown, furry rabbit happily hopping its way right in front of me. I stop to let it pass me by. These animals are kind of weirding me out.
Quinsey Wolfe's Glass Vault Page 13