Part ten baby

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You read your American psycho book, you flicked through the pages and traced the stains

Weathering, what a lovely thing. It makes books more pleasant

You stood up and walked downstairs to read in the basement. It was much more comforting than reading alone in your room

You had people to listen to you read

"I have all the characteristics of a human being: blood, flesh, skin, hair; but not a single, clear, identifiable emotion, except for greed and disgust. Something horrible is happening inside of me, and I don't know why. My nightly bloodlust has overflown into my days"
You read to the warming emptiness

You felt a presence

"My god, what is that.. awful book?"
A sweet middle aged lady asked

She had curled white hair, her eyes stung red with tears. She had a exit wound in the back of her head

She sat next to you, staring at the pages

"But there is no real me: only an entity, something illusory. And though I can hide my cold gaze, and you can shake my hand and feel flesh gripping yours and maybe you can even sense our lifestyles are probably comparable...I simply am not there."
She read aloud
"Goodness me, this is awful"

She laughed a little

"Oh, i haven't laughed like this since.. my baby.."
She muttered
"My baby, have you seen my baby-"

She stared into your eyes, she brushed a piece of your hair out of your face

"You.. look almost like him"
She said, her face was bright and happy
"But.. my baby. I still need my baby"

She went back to sad

"Look ma'am-"

"Nora. My name is Nora, child"
She smiled

"Nora, I'll read to you if you'd like. Every day, this time, this basement"
You smiled back
"I wouldn't mind"

"Yes, I'd like that"
She said
"But pick a.. much more.. pleasant book. If you can"

You nodded, she disappeared

You continued to read out loud, knowing the other ghosts could hear you

You thought of what book to read next.

You finished the chapter, closed the book and walked up into your room

There was another book on your bed

It was a vintage copy of Frankenstein's monster

You smiled and opened the book

"Less gruesome"
It read

"It's a book about digging people up and sewing them back together, how could it be less gruesome"
You laughed to yourself, flicking through the book to see if any more words had been highlighted

You jumped on your bed and found a high lighted section

"I have love in me the likes of which you can scarcely imagine and rage the likes of which you would not believe. If I cannot satisfy the one, I will indulge the other"

Tate Langdon x y/nWhere stories live. Discover now