The House of Grey- Volume 3 by Collin Earl Read Free Book Online Page B

part of the dream too?
    “What are you doing back here anyway?” she asked, her tone light but once again guarded.
    “It’s a long story,” he said. What more could he really say?
    She narrowed her eyes suspiciously. Monson fired back.
    “While we’re on the subject, why are you back here?”
    “I always take this way home.” She gestured towards the forest. “There’s a trail that takes you towards the river and along its banks for a bit. It ends near The Barracks. It’s a lot quieter than the normal path, so I take it whenever possible.”
    “Trying to keep a low profile, huh?”
    Cyann’s lush blue eyes bore into him. “Something like that.”
    She rubbed lightly at the place where he had grabbed her. She was trying to act tough, but it clearly was bothering her. The sick feeling welled up again. He had to say something.
    “I know I already said this, but I’m really sorry that I hurt you. I promise, I didn’t mean to.”
    “You don’t need to explain. I didn’t mean to sneak up on you.” Again, her tone was calming. “You just surprised me. You’re a lot stronger than you look.”
    “Surprised?” he asked. Strong was not a word he would have used to describe himself.
    “Yeah, a little.” She looked away from him. “Can I ask you something?”
    He raised an eyebrow as she pushed her dark hair out of her eyes. When she spoke, her voice held a hint of amusement. She pointed at his expression. 
    “I’ll take that as a yes.”
    He smiled and nodded, indicating his approval.
    “Did you write this?”
    She proffered a yellow notebook that he recognized as Casey’s. He stared at her in bewilderment.
    “What are you doing with Casey’s screenplay?”
    “What do you mean?” Her confusion was as palpable as Monson’s. “I took this from you. I figured it had to be important. I mean, you were half-asleep, but still managed to grab my arm with your steel trap of a grip. It seemed like you were protecting it or something.
    “It is important.” He took the book from her. “It’s something that Casey has been working on for - ”
    “I’m not talking about the screenplay.”
    “You’re not talking about the screenplay?” He scratched at his head. “Then what are you talking about?”
    She flipped to the final page of the notebook and read the frantically scrawled text.
    “Black. Swirling clouds of blackened thick….”
    Monson listened, dazed, as the horror of his dreams, of a demon eyed Damion and an opponent he could never overcome came crashing into reality.
     
     
     

Chapter 28 – Correction
     
     
    “Where did you find that?” Monson’s voice was barely audible.
    “I told you.” Cyann pointed towards the yellow notebook.  “You were holding it when you were dreaming.”
    He stood up and put out his hand indicating that she should give him the notebook. In the face of Cyann’s calm, Monson attempted to master his growing panic. Why did he have the book and more importantly, how did it get out here? He said a silent prayer to the god that he was not even sure existed as he flipped through the notebook and saw that Casey’s precious work remained untouched. Monson released some of the accumulating anxiety pooling in the pit of his stomach. If he had messed up Casey’s screenplay, he would have never forgiven himself.
    His attention moved to the back of the notebook. Crude, chicken-scratch handwriting covered the last few pages.  Monson quickly scanned the contents, becoming more and more horrified the further he read.
    Filling the pages was an account of his most recent dream, told from his perspective as if he himself had written it while he was living the nightmare. The dream - or poem, or whatever it was - happened to be scripted into stanza form, complete with a title. Monson quietly read the title aloud. 
    Correction.
    He stared at the words. They did not seem to fit at all the poem at all. He continued to scrutinize the handwriting. Was it his? He wasn’t sure.