He Who Weaves Nightmares | PUBLISHED (Available in Print and eBook Format)

Chapter 32 - Psychedelic Cycladic

Chapter 32 - Psychedelic Cycladic

Dreamer

I looked around. There were several lampposts illuminating the empty yet wide street. The sign on one of the corners read Skia. The Greek word for shade or shadow. Not exactly reassuring.

How come I had never stumbled across this part of the city before? Probably because I would never have ventured to pass through that narrow strip of darkness.

Ack! Would we have to go through that again later?

While I was busy panicking at the thought, Ice placed an arm around my shoulders and urged me forward. And I immediately forgot about my initial anxiety.

We walked for a minute and stopped when we were standing in front of a nondescript structure. There was a huge wooden door in front and Ice let go of me to walk toward the entrance. I noticed that he took a deep breath before he pushed open the heavy door and faced me.

"It's not yet open, but I wanted you to be the first to see my gallery," Ice said quietly, sounding uncertain or embarrassed, I didn't know.

I, on the other hand, was speechless. This was an honor.

"Have your brothers seen this?" I asked. I still couldn't believe he kept something this important to himself. Francis had never mentioned it. "Anyone?"

"They know about it, but they haven't been here yet. They know better than to drop by without an invitation," Ice explained. "Although one of my friends surprised me one time."

Was it absurd that I felt jealous?

"Did she like it?" I asked rather sharply.

Ice reached for my hand again. "Than... Dan found it depressing. Tell me if he were right."

Oh.

I grinned at Ice. Together, we stepped inside.

The building didn't look so big from the outside, but the vast space that greeted me the moment we passed the door was remarkable. The main theme was overcast, but the walls were in varying shades and textures. There were sparse pieces of art placed seemingly randomly-and they all but teased me to find the rest of the collection. Perhaps a novice would find the motif depressing, but to me, the surface seemed alive.

Now, this was Fifty Shades of Grey.

Ice offered to take my coat because it was warmer inside. He gazed at me long after I'd handed him my coat and it was rather unnerving. He kept his eyes on mine yet I felt that he was seeing every bit of me. I flushed and looked at my sneakers peeking under the hem of my dress.

I heard Ice breathe out as he hung my coat on a rack that looked like a macerated, distorted skeleton with bony hands and fingers protruding as hooks. Had it not been overlaid in stainless steel, it would have seemed grotesque. It was still morbidly bizarre yet it was also an ingenious stand.

Then Ice removed his own jacket and I decided it was no feat to pass through that dark alley again if the reward was the sight before me. The light blue shirt molded perfectly to his body and I wondered how his jacket managed to cover the span of his shoulders without coming apart at the seams. Ice didn't appear as broad when he was wearing the grey suit. Now, he looked terribly tempting and if I didn't move away, someone help me because I was going to pounce on him and blame the aggression on stress and alcohol.

I had been under a lot of stress and I'd had quite a few drinks earlier.

Still, sanity prevailed. I might never get a chance to see the rest of Ice's art if I assaulted him now.