My Nine Monsters Ch. 01.5-02

I come to warm and wrapped in a soft blanket in front of a fire, seated in a large cushy leather armchair. The only light in the room comes from the fire, and muted tastefully recessed dimmed fixtures. The walls are paneled wood. There are long bookshelves on two of the three walls I can see. This appears to be an older man's study, a place built for cigars and contemplation. The grogginess from my earlier episode is fading slowly, until I notice the man in the adjacent chair with a start.

"Who are you?" The question comes out in a raspy whisper, my voice is completely gone. Vaguely, I remember the screaming. Why was I screaming?

"My name is Paul, I work in the Library, Thomas is a mutual friend. He told me something strange had happened to you, but didn't go into details. He called this morning to let me know you were coming to London and asked me to keep an eye after you if you came to the Library today. I saw you pick up that book, then read it for a few moments, when you started screaming I thought it prudent to remove you under my care." His voice was soft, and deep, with a hint of a Scottish brogue that seemed to be almost but not quite erased from having spent years in the academy himself. We wore working profession trousers and a lose cream colored fisherman's sweater. He was between fourty-five and and fifty-five, judging from the streaks of gray in his ginger beard, and the kind crinkles at the corners of his eyes.

"Book? I don't remember any book?" But as soon as I said it, memories started flooding back, choking me, I clamped my eys shut, but that only served to paint the horrors of my episode with Macha in more vivid hues on the backs of my eyelids.

"I think you do remember." Paul prodded me gently.

"Oh. Oh God, I do." The screaming was coming again now. I could feel my diaphram squeezing and tightening, I could feel the scream rooting in the deep part of my lungs, ready to be loosed on the world when Paul squatted on his heels in front of me and took my hands.

"You're safe here Chloe. And you don't have to tell me what happened if you don't want."

Instead of a scream, what comes out of me is a sob then. Two days of impossible experiences and trauma to my sexuality threaten to crush me. The tale of what happened with the book, of what happened at Oxford, of Macha forcing me to fuck that guy, the whole horrible thing spills out in a gush of words, and tears and snot. I can't bear to hold anything back. I don't stop for a moment to consider that I don't even know this man. I have a two sentence story to explain how he is now involved in my life. What has happened to my simple little life with my books?

"That's. I think that's all." My voice is as small and fragile as a little girl confessing her obvious and poorly concealed wrongdoing.

"Thank you for telling me this, Chloe." The man named Paul tells me, I notice just before he speaks again, the shimmering edge around his frame that seems to outline a much larger man than he is.

"Sleep now, sweet one." His words push at me, and for a just a moment I feel terror again, but it's just comfort. The blanket he settles around me is real, and heavy down, and so very, very warm. I slip back into dreams comfortable and unburdened.

Stay tuned...