Commins' Case: Bloody Burlesque ✅

Chapter 15 (End)

Quiet as a church mouse, I sneak up beside the arched door for a peek. Beyond is an entry hall. One of the great wooden doors lay flat on the stone floor, covered in a thick layer of dust. The other door seems to have grown legs. There are scuffed and confused tracks in the dust, as though someone recently passed through here, possibly dragging someone else along by force. It's nice to know I'm in the right place, at least. With her hands clasped in prayer and her eyes turned up to heaven, an effigy of the Holy Mother faces the open arch. On either side of Mary are alters that once held prayer candles; however, cobwebs have now taken their place. Two doors lead away from the antechamber, one to a set of stairs and the other, I assume, to the nave.

The entry hall seems safe enough. I step inside, careful not to tread on the fallen door and divulge my position. When my foot crosses the threshold, I hear a low scraping, like heavy stones grinding together.

I turn in time to see the gargoyle land in a crouch on the front steps. One of the risers buckles under his weight. His stone tongue wags back and forth, and his claws dig furrows in the stairs. When the gargoyle moves, it sounds like gravel through an industrial grinder.

"Ah," I say. "Lovely."

-

The gargoyle crawls on all fours to the top step, tongue wagging, and starts across the porch, no doubt intent on tearing my head from my shoulders.

I sprint to the spiral stairs and take the steps two at a time. The gargoyle follows me, his claws tearing ruts in the steps and his shoulders leaving furrows in the walls. Up and up I go, the muscles in my thighs burning with exhaustion. I reach the top, panting for breath.

I am in the bell tower. A family of pigeons take to their wings at my sudden entrance, leaving behind a mess of feathers and excrement—the rusted iron bell hangs at the centre of the tower. The rope has rotted away, and the support structure holding the bell looks about ready to collapse. Four windows open out of the tower, one of which looks out over what remains of the cathedral's decaying roof.

-

The gargoyle is just around the bend in the stairs, making a hell of a racket as he ascends. He sounds like an avalanche, only travelling upwards instead of down. I throw one leg over the window ledge and then the other. It must be a fifteen-foot drop to the cathedral roof, but it looks as though it's far more from up here. The roof section directly below me looks ready to crumble, but there is no time for anything else.

The gargoyle reaches the top of the stairs, filling the door frame. His stone head swivels in my direction—that grinding noise sending a shiver traipsing up my spine.

I push off from the window ledge. The air rushes in my ears and drags at my coat as the roof comes up to meet me. I land on my feet with a jarring thud and roll. The support timbers make groaning, popping sounds, but they hold. I scramble up the incline to the cathedral's peak.

The stone demon climbs into the window frame and pauses. I fear he won't take the bait and jump down to the rotten roof.

-

I make lewd gestures at the gargoyle, uncertain as to whether or not he understands them.

I presume he understood the gist. He leaps, and his clawed feet hit the roof with a mighty crack. I feel the boards quiver beneath my feet. The gargoyle takes a single step in my direction before the roof opens up beneath him. The demon disappears, and there is a tremendous boom as he hits the bottom.

I smirk. "Watch your step."

I consider going to the hole to inspect the gargoyle until more of the roof starts collapsing in. I jump down onto a lower outbuilding and then back to the blessed ground.