The Darkness of Bones by Sam Millar Read Free Book Online Page A

only until they regrouped, gathering up their courage to repel him. “I’ve dealt with slimier fuckers that you bastards. I’m here to stay. Now get the fuck out, and have
your
tailed arses frost-bitten!”
    As he progressed onwards, fronds of filthy web brushed against his face. He set the torch on them, also, listening to their crackling, loving the power he now possessed in his new kingdom. Finally, he bent and scooped up more paper, building another, thicker torch, all the while looking about for old wooden crates—anything to start a small fire, grant some heat and protection.
    Just as he bent to retrieve some kindling, he became aware of something in the far corner, jagged light encircling it. Barely hidden by the shadows, in the semi-darkness it looked like a person, genuflecting, praying.
    “Who the fuck’s there?” shouted Charlie, anxious. “Come on out. Don’t try anything stupid. I’m armed with a knife, you bastard. Come on! Out fucking now!”
    Standing there, Charlie looked thin and awkward as a snapped-neck chicken, barely able to refrain the shite from bursting out of his skinny arse. His hands were shaking badly; so much in fact that he thought the flaming torch would drop, leaving him in total darkness with the rats. What he wouldn’t give for some cheap wine, something to help calm his nerves, make his balls grow larger.
    The figure refused to acknowledge Charlie’s command, and the old vagrant heard sounds behind him while his imagination went into overdrive. Were there two of them, waiting to ambush, kill him for his shoes? He spun round quickly. “Back you bastard!” To his relief, a group of rats ran for cover, knocking over empty tins in their wake.
    Bending down slowly, Charlie picked up a brick before inching forward, cautiously. “I’ve a little drop of wine here, pal. Care to share on a cold night like this? Warm you up, good and—” He flung the brick, as hard as he could. It hit something, bouncing off with force.
    Hearing bones crunch, Charlie ran forward, screaming at the top of his voice, “Bastard! Bastard! Bastard!” He lunged at the figure, dropping the smouldering torch in the process.
    The stench oozing from the corner was horrendous. “Oh fuck …” The revelation that he was now wrestling with a badly decomposed corpse made him shiver. Yet, ever the opportunist, he felt a surge of anticipation and excitement at the thought that the corpse just might be harbouring a secret—a monetary secret, a dark face of profit, something beneficial to Charlie Stanton.
    Tossed to the side of the corpse, he could make out remnants of rags that probably once covered it, devoured and moulded, replaced by battalions of webs.
    The corpse was nothing more than bones and fragmentedskin, and he now discovered that the ghastly thing was completely naked, as if this was how it had been left. A small metal rod protruded from the anus area. It resembled some sort of metal dildo.
    “Weird … fucking disgusting …” whispered Charlie, wondering if the metal was brass. Good money in brass.
    Quickly sidestepping the corpse, he bent to search the pile of raggedy clothes huddled in the corner. Who knows? Perhaps the guy—was it a man?—had left something, other than a metal dick sticking out of his arse?
    With expert fingers, Charlie kept searching, all the while making sure his eyes avoided the face of the corpse—or what would be left of it.
    “You cheap bastard,” said Charlie, a few minutes later, fully believing that luck wouldn’t be in tonight. “You cheap fucking—” Only now did he have the angry courage to look at the face; only now did he see that there was no face to confront.
    Buckling over, Charlie spewed out jaundice vomit that faded into pale as it hit the ground, marooning him in its island of bread-like muck.
    Whatever the poor bastard did, he didn’t deserve that
, thought Charlie, quickly wiping the sour spillage from his mouth, pushing himself away from the