Untrustworthy - Chapter 10/Gage
Foreshadowing.
There were stairs that led from the outside by the side of the house down into the basement. I used them once to get inside for the heck of it, but just inside the door I saw Gage descending the stairs from the main room.
"Don't come in this way." He growled, "Use the main entrance or the side door." I beat a hasty retreat, but not before glimpsing the weapons on the wall. Long swords sheathed in black leather with silver designs exotically embroidered on the casings, an ax with exaggerated execution-style double blades, and some weird curvy knives catch my attention before I back out the door.
I didn't see anything suspicious, but now I kind of think they keep the drugs down there. If I only had the balls to tell the police, maybe all this would be resolved. Or maybe Arden would reach his long arms out from jail and murder us where we were.
That night I had a dream. I was walking past the rooms in the second floor of Mayor's house. Instead of the warm glow of the hall lights and the soulless rays of the winter sun streaming in, there was only dark.
I crept along, the hallway stretching into darkness in front of me. Peering over my shoulder anxiously I saw behind me the hallway ended in a stairway that went up, but none that went down to the floor level. I continued on, like a character wandering the halls in a video game and passed by a room. Gage was in there. It was his room in the dream though in real life he didn't live in the house.
I glimpsed an unmade bed shoved in the corner, clothes on the floor, and posters on the walls. He lounged on a swivel chair in the center of it all, his long legs spread in front of him, head bent forward, examining something he held in his large, sinuous hands.
As I stood there, the posters on the wall became the weapons from downstairs, the walls became concrete instead of wood, and Gage seemed less and less like a spiky haired highschooler and more and more like an executioner from some medieval age, dressed in black.
One of the swords tipped and slid out of its ebony sheath. As it hit the floor Gage's head jerked up and he saw me. It was then I saw he gripped a voodoo doll in his hands, one with black hair and black eyes. Horror struck I turned and ran, but as I pelted down the hall to the stairs I knew it was too late. I could sense him right behind me, hands reaching out to grab me. I turned expecting to see him with the sword, but Gage had turned into someone else. In the black of the hall I couldn't see his features, only dark hair and the flash of a blade. I jerked awake, shivering from the realness of the dream.
"Don't come in this way." He growled, "Use the main entrance or the side door." I beat a hasty retreat, but not before glimpsing the weapons on the wall. Long swords sheathed in black leather with silver designs exotically embroidered on the casings, an ax with exaggerated execution-style double blades, and some weird curvy knives catch my attention before I back out the door.
I didn't see anything suspicious, but now I kind of think they keep the drugs down there. If I only had the balls to tell the police, maybe all this would be resolved. Or maybe Arden would reach his long arms out from jail and murder us where we were.
That night I had a dream. I was walking past the rooms in the second floor of Mayor's house. Instead of the warm glow of the hall lights and the soulless rays of the winter sun streaming in, there was only dark.
I crept along, the hallway stretching into darkness in front of me. Peering over my shoulder anxiously I saw behind me the hallway ended in a stairway that went up, but none that went down to the floor level. I continued on, like a character wandering the halls in a video game and passed by a room. Gage was in there. It was his room in the dream though in real life he didn't live in the house.
I glimpsed an unmade bed shoved in the corner, clothes on the floor, and posters on the walls. He lounged on a swivel chair in the center of it all, his long legs spread in front of him, head bent forward, examining something he held in his large, sinuous hands.
As I stood there, the posters on the wall became the weapons from downstairs, the walls became concrete instead of wood, and Gage seemed less and less like a spiky haired highschooler and more and more like an executioner from some medieval age, dressed in black.
One of the swords tipped and slid out of its ebony sheath. As it hit the floor Gage's head jerked up and he saw me. It was then I saw he gripped a voodoo doll in his hands, one with black hair and black eyes. Horror struck I turned and ran, but as I pelted down the hall to the stairs I knew it was too late. I could sense him right behind me, hands reaching out to grab me. I turned expecting to see him with the sword, but Gage had turned into someone else. In the black of the hall I couldn't see his features, only dark hair and the flash of a blade. I jerked awake, shivering from the realness of the dream.
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