This Haunted World Book One: The Venetian: A Chilling New Supernatural Thriller by Shani Struthers Read Free Book Online

because people sigh when they look at it. Its beauty moves them.”
    She had to admit, it was certainly moving her. Unlike other bridges in the city this one was high-up, connecting one building to another and made of limestone. Not an open bridge, it was closed, a glorified tunnel she supposed. Rob told her it led to the interrogation rooms in the Doge’s Palace, which apparently once entered, very few left.
    “And that’s the other explanation for its name, the more romantic explanation if you like, that the view from the windows with their stone bars was often the last the convicts saw before they were imprisoned, the poor souls sighing at their pitiful fate.”
    “And that’s supposed to be romantic is it?”
    “I think it is, in a Gothic sort of way,” Rob insisted before proceeding to inform her that, in actual fact, the days of inquisitions and executions were long over by the time the bridge was built. “So you see, that story, as so many are, is pure fabrication, just another way to tempt punters to come and have a look, to fuel their imaginations.”
    She looked around her. “This city certainly does that."
    “Yep, whilst bleeding you dry of every last euro.”
    In a way, she was disappointed to learn the truth, to have her bubble burst – she actually preferred the romantic explanation. To illustrate that, she did indeed sigh at the iconic landmark before her, a protracted sound that made Rob laugh.
    “Come on,” he said, his arm around her, “let’s get out of here.”             
    They continued to walk, into the Castello sestiere, the eastern part of Venice and mainly residential with lines of washing hung over the canals, which only added to the charm. Traipsing up and over bridges of all kinds, some rickety wooden ones, others more ornate, they veered away from the canals on occasions to encounter big stone squares instead – or ‘campo’s’ as they were known. She still found the lack of green startling; there was no grass whatsoever to soften hard lines and edges. And children, where were the children? She expected to see some, certainly the offspring of those who lived here, but they were conspicuous by their absence too. ‘ Venice is closer to death than it’s ever been ’. She’d not only read about Venice but watched a documentary about it too and that was something the presenter had said, referring to the fact that the age of the city’s population was the highest in Europe. His words seemed pertinent on many levels.
    Their legs growing weary, they decided to treat themselves to a pit stop at a bar in an empty square. There were only a few people sitting in its ill-lit interior and all locals by the looks of them. Rob chose his usual espresso, whilst she tried an Aperol Spritz – a drink she’d seen adverts for in the airport. Taking a sip, the taste was sharp and refreshing.
    “Mmm,” she informed Rob, “this is delicious.”
    “A new favourite?”
    “Perhaps, whilst we’re here anyway.”
    “Do you want another?”
    She was surprised: not only that he was asking but also that she’d finished it – it had evaporated like air. Staring at the glass, she contemplated before shaking her head. “No, let’s get going, we’ve still got loads to see.” Besides which, the atmosphere in the bar was hardly scintillating, in fact, it seemed as though their presence was a hindrance. There were scowls on most of the occupants’ faces; even the man who’d served them could barely raise a smile. There were cons as well as pros to venturing off-the-beaten-track.
    It was whilst exploring another mainly residential area, Cannaregio, further north, that they decided to head back towards the Rialto Bridge and the more populated areas.
    “We need shops,” Louise decided. “Shelter basically. This rain is getting on my nerves.”
    The main shopping centre, if a series of shops clustered in ancient buildings could be called that, was close to the Rialto and, having