Darkness Blooms by Christopher Bloodworth Read Free Book Online Page B

or nothing venture once that window was open and she better be prepared for it.
    Sylvia thought that the black and white plant might melt under the blast of a hose, but she wasn’t positive and that terrified her.
    What if she tried to douse the plant in water and it kept coming at her.
    All those switches in the greenhouse couldn’t all be for water, right?
    The strange symbols might be what each plant was called, or where it was from, or what was in the valve that would kill it.
    Sylvia just didn’t know.
    Something else came to Sylvia’s mind.
    If it could open the door to the green house, couldn’t it open the door to the house?
    Same mechanism.
    Sylvia leaned the broom against the stove and went to the bedroom. She put on all of the clothing; boots, gloves, and mask included.
    Once she was covered head to toe, she waddled to the bathroom. Lifting one leg and putting it into the bathtub, and then the next, Sylvia sighed. This was going to be awkward.
    She turned on the water and turned in a slow circle, waiting until she felt the water soak through all the layers of clothing and chill her skin. She stayed in even longer, making sure that every inch and layer of clothing was waterlogged before she turned the water off.
    Then she attempted to lift her leg, grunting from the effort. She’d never imagined that clothing could be so heavy. Sylvia didn’t care though. It was what she needed to do and it would protect her from the black flowers’ barbs at least.
    Sylvia walked out of the bedroom, grabbing Papere’s leather bound journal and the two coffee cans. She waddled to the front door and set all three items next to the front door, cursing when she realized that the keys to her car were still in the bedroom.
    She waddled back to the bedroom and slipped them into her pocket before heading to the kitchen. It was time.
    She grabbed the broom and slid herself onto the edge of the sink. She felt like an awkward whale.
    After looking out the window in all directions for the spider creature, Sylvia took a deep breath.
    It was time.
    She was getting out of this. It had always been her alone versus the world and this time was no different. She would save herself.
    Sylvia opened the window and poked the broom out the window. Leaning out, she bent over the windowsill.
    All around the newly muddy area, blossoms opened, red centers blazing in the early morning light. Barbs shot up toward Sylvia’s face.
    The barbs were several feet away and she was in no danger from them.
    Sylvia hooked the hose with the broom and started pulling it up. She almost had it when the top of the broomstick banged into the underside of the eaves.
    Sylvia let out a yelp and her grip faltered. Sylvia watched, everything moving in slow motion, as the bristles of the broom hit the mud and started falling away from her. She threw her arms out with a primal scream.
    She thought she had it. She really did, but her fingertips only brushed the tip of the broomstick as it fell away from her grasp.
    “No!”
    Sylvia screamed this as the top foot of broomstick fell into a thick patch of the dusky flowers. The blossoms opened, tracking her movement. Then they did something new; they focused on the broomstick.
    Thousands of threads with barbs on the end shot into the top half of the broom and the broomstick started moving away from the window.
    Sylvia watched, mouth agape.
    The flowers were pulling the broom away from her.

14
    Sylvia felt tears prick at her eyes and cried out a scream of rage so intense that she startled herself. Without thinking, she floundered out the open window. When her feet hit the mud, they almost shot out from under her. Her right foot actually did this, but her left buckled at the ankle, leaving her right foot deep in a mound of open black flowers.
    The barbs shot from the pistils embedded themselves in her boot at once. When Sylvia felt a sudden, strong tug on her right foot, she snapped out of her daze. She ripped her foot back,