Planet Chimera Read Online Free Page B

the
outside. They were specifically clear about not letting anyone
wander around the corridors at night. And without my tools of the
trade, there was no way I was going to pick the lock and open the
door.
    I turned around and strolled over to the
window, testing the metal hinges for weakness, hoping to use it as
a point of exit. I placed my weight against the window, putting
pressure against the hinges, as I forced it ajar. Strong winds blew
into the room, a heavy shower of snowflakes falling over my bed,
the cold air numbing my face. Covering my head with a hood, a
bandanna on half of my face, I hopped through the window, shutting
it behind me. Balancing my weight over the ledge, tip-toeing over
to the window of the next room, I peeked over to see what was
inside. It was dark inside, the bed next to the window had been
ruffled with, the covers lay on the floor, and the pillows over by
the door. Further, to my astonishment—the window was open, a small
glass crack below the left corner. I opened the window, entered
through it, as I landed on bed, my knees bending inwards. Not too
long ago—two hours ago to be precise—I had heard terrible
screaming, and then two whispering voices. Where could there have
gone?
    “What in blazes?” I exclaimed when I almost
fell to the ground, due to some slippery liquid on floor.
    Something slippery, something red and thick
in nature was scattered through the floor; I think it was blood. A
great struggle had taken place inside this small suite. The scrolls
had been torn asunder, the shelf leaning crooked to the right, and
what looked like claw marks dug deep into the wooden table. This
was getting too creepy for my explicit taste. I heard movements,
coming from the corridor outside, and I turned around, headed for
the window. But before I could exit, I caught a glimpse of what
looked like an index finger, by the edge of the bed, dried blood
around it. If this was not a sign of force mutilation or murder, I
truly don’t know what was. I left the quarters, exiting through the
window, convinced that I needed to investigate further into this
incident. The blizzard storm, the missing people, my appearance
here—they were somehow connected together, like a jigsaw
puzzle.
    I skipped over the tile,
my body tensing, as I made my way to another room, to have another
look through it. If there anymore disappearances, anymore body
parts or messes on the floor, then I would be thoroughly convinced
that something mischievous was happening on this compound. The next
room was a few yards away from me, with barred, panel windows, a
small porch for the guest to sit and look over the horizon. It must belong to some important
resident , I thought. Leaping over the
roof, I landed on the porch, making a slight noise with my feet,
but in this weather, my sound would remain concealed. I peered from
the corner into the room, observing one lamb that was lit by the
left side of the door, and the boy from before sitting by the desk,
his head buried in a set of books. The porch door, next to the
window, was heavily secured, so the only way in was to have him
open the door for me, from the inside. My better judgment advised
me against this direct approach, warning me of the dangers this
action could produce. After all, I was supposed to be sleeping in
my bed, locked inside my quarters, until the crack of dawn. I would
have heeded this warning, if this was a different circumstance, but
it was not an ordinary situation. Looking left and then right, I
advanced towards the door, revealing my face, before knocking on
the door. The boy turned around, a look of fear on his face, our
eyes meeting each other. For a second, he froze with terror, his
fingers shaking. He jumped out of his seat, his dark hair jumbled
up, and walked to the door, a look of fear and excitement clouding
his small, freckled face. Opening the door, he took a few steps
back, not screaming, as I entered his room.
    “I mean you no harm, child,” I