“Thank you for stitching me up" I say.
"I seem to have a talent for it.”
“Sit". I gesture to the chairs.
"I need to tell you something".
"You adore me and are having trouble keeping your hands to yourself?" he suggests.
"No". But my seriousness is lost on him.
He sits and pulls me close. "I'm having trouble keeping my hands to myself”
“Does she love you?"
"Not yet," Elliott says. "But she will. Araby's used to loving people who've done terrible things.”
“The tension is making him practically vibrate.”
“I always thought about you. From the night I took you home. I never really stopped thinking about you.”
“I was planning to eat that," April says as Henry discovers a pudding and spoons it into his mouth with such intense concentration that I think his eyes have crossed.”
“Holy gallnipper, how long till we hit the magic trail? It’s gloomier than my own funeral I here.”
Camille adjusted the bag’s rope and looked at Ira. “Don’t even joke about that.”
Since the moment they’d entered the forest, she’d felt like something was listening. Like they’d woken some sleeping creature, and now it followed them with silent cunning. The deafening chants had not returned to pierce her eardrums, but danger still felt close.
A few paces ahead of her, Oscar peeled away another cobweb, the octagonal spinning so massive Camille didn’t even want to imagine the size of the spider that had created it.
“Mate, you got a stomach made of iron,” Ira said.
A flash of orange and black swept in front of Camille’s eyes and she felt an odd tug on her dress. She looked down and froze. A spider with a body the size of her first flexed its hairy legs on her skirt. It started to scuttle up. Her scream echoed through the forest as she swiped the spider off. It hit the marshy ground and scampered under a log. Oscar grabbed her arm and pulled her toward him.
“Did it bite you?”
She shook her head, arms and legs stiff with fear.
“I’ve never seen one so bloody big,” Ira said, running past the log as though the spider would leap out at him. Oscar started walking again, his hand on the small of her back. She exhaled with more than one kind of relief. He was at least still concerned for her.
As they started to pick up their pace, another black critter swung down from a nearby tree. Camille say it flying toward them, but her warning shout was too slow. The spider landed on Oscar’s shoulder, fat and furry and swift as its legs darted up his neck.
Oscar shouted an obscenity as he whacked the giant from his skin. Camille heard it thud against the leafy forest floor. Unfazed, the spider quickly sprang to its finger-length legs and darted toward her boot. Her shrieks echoed again as it leaped onto her hem. With his foot, Ira knocked the spider back to the ground, and before it could bounce back up, Oscar smashed it with a stick. The squashed giant oozed yellow-and-green blood onto the marshy ground. Camille gagged and tasted her breakfast oats in the back of her mouth.
“What in all wrath are those monsters?” Ira panted as he twisted around, looking for more.
Camille looked up to the trees to try and spot any others that might be descending from glossy webbing. Terror paralyzed her as her eyes landed on a colony of glistening webs in the treetops. An endless number of black dots massed above their heads, dangling from tree limbs. Oscar and Ira followed her horrified stare.
“Run,” Oscar whispered. Camille sprinted forward, her skin and scalp tingling with imaginary spider legs. The bag of provisions slammed against her back, tugging at her neck, but she didn’t care. They didn’t slow down until the gigantic spiderwebs grew sparse and the squawk of birds took over.”
“It's not true that you were the good child. Not a good child at all. You were scared of rejection, so you made yourself a convenient child for your parents to have around."
"And your good parents - well, that is a lie as well. Not good parents at all, always looking over their shoulders, afraid of what people might be saying behind their backs. You think that liars who flock together never betray each other? Oh, you will betray your parents. And your parents will betray you. It is the way of all flesh. We tell each other our lies and the betrayed betrays the betrayer.”
“«La gobernanta es la única persona que se encuentra bien en este lugar y la fábrica sólo trabaja para satisfacerla. Pero eso no pasa de ser una ilusión, ella no es más que un testaferro. El personaje principal para el que todo el mundo trabaja aquí es el diablo».”
“There is more than one good way to drown.”
“Oh.' A syllable can express a great deal. Will's sounded of resignation but also of swear words, and the smell of rotting vegetation, and wary amusement and bitten fingernails.”
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