A Hundred Words for Hate by Thomas E. Sniegoski Read Free Book Online

pooling in her hand, then returned her attention to the thick vine before her.
    At first she believed it to be a trick of her eyes. There was blood on the vines where she had touched them . . . where she had been stuck, but the blood seemed to be fading away, gradually absorbed into the body of the vines.
    How odd.
    And as the last of her blood was taken in, the vines began to sway and shake, slowly pulling up and away like the thick velvet curtains of the old movie palaces, to reveal not the white of a screen, but a dark, winding path beyond.
    Fernita crouched at the opening, Miles cowering beside her, neither sure they wanted to go any farther, even though every fiber of Fernita’s being screamed that she should.
    The high grass had again receded, forming a snaking passage through the abundant jungle to a clearing. And in the clearing was a tree; perhaps one of the largest trees Fernita had ever seen. She could just about make out the vast network of thick branches that grew out from its massive trunk, tapering upward into the velvet black sky.
    How odd the stars appeared, almost as if they were too close.
    Fernita’s eyes were just returning to the path . . . to the glorious tree, when something stepped out of the shadows to block her view.
    It was huge, its body covered in golden armor that reflected the brightness of the burning sword it clutched in one of its massive, gauntleted hands.
    Frozen in fear, she could only look up into its face, which was equal parts eagle, lion, and man.
    What are you? she wanted to ask it, but the answer was upon her, floating up from the darkness from where it had been hidden.
    Cherubim.
    “You do not belong,” the creature shrieked, roared, and bellowed in one discordant voice that made her bones shake.
    And Miles hissed, his body pressed flat to the grassy ground, fur standing on end as if electrified.
    It pinned her there with its multiple sets of eyes, its large form casting a cold shadow across her naked form.
    It was the first moment that she recognized she was unclothed, and it would have caused her much confusion if she hadn’t been in the presence of a looming weapon of Heaven.
    The Cherubim lumbered ever closer; four sets of strangely beautiful wings unfurled from its armored back. Though terrified, she could not help but marvel at its fearsome beauty, staring up into its three faces as it lifted its sword of fire.
    “You do not belong,” it announced again, prepared to strike.
    And Fernita watched, unable to move as the fiery weapon descended, her mouth opening, not in a scream as she believed would pour forth from the depths of her very soul, but another sound that proved she was the answer.
    That she did belong.
     
    Fernita awakened from the dream, the answer to a question that had plagued her for so very long dancing upon the tip of her tongue.
    For a moment it was there, but as the recollection of the jungle drifted away like the morning mist, it too was gone. And in a matter of seconds, she had forgotten that she had even dreamed at all.
    Miles had moved from her lap to an open portion of windowsill, staring intensely out at the cold, predawn world, a strange trilling sound, as if he were excited by the sight of a bird or a squirrel, coming from his furry throat.
    “What do you see out there, crazy cat?” she asked sleepily, as she reached out and stroked his back with old fingers, crooked with age.
    Miles continued to stare, repeating the strange sound over and over again, answering the question that the old woman asked of him.
    “ It’s coming, ” the cat told her, even though she did not understand.
    “The big outside is coming.”

CHAPTER THREE
    “W atch out for the rats,” Remy called out to Marlowe as he stuffed the dog’s leash in his back pocket and sat on a bench in Boston Common.
    “ Rats?” Marlowe questioned, stopping beside an old oak tree. He looked around, his nose twitching in the cold early-morning air.
    “I didn’t say there were any