gns.thegraveyardvultures-第27章
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empt to 。。。 Oh God； they'd repaired that broken human skeleton； made it into a plete frame again 。 。 。 resurrected William Gardinerfor some awful purpose？！
The empty eye sockets seemed to single her out as though they saw her； the mouth cavity an evil weling grin。 But that was impossible because this century…old skeleton was dead； no matter what Royston tried to make out。 She shuddered； recalled what had happened to Sheila Dowson； what they'd done to Sylvia Adams' corpse。 They'd do the same to her； desecrate her body before and after death。 That was the thought that had the scream rising from deep inside her； a full…bodied yell of terror that was suddenly checked in her throat； bulging and painful like a block of trapped wind。 Because Royston was standing directly in front of her； clad in black and mauve robes with a high cowl； the material embroidered all over with inverted crosses。 Miranda wanted to laugh； to double up with mirth because he reminded her of a bishop and all church people looked ical in their various regalia。 Yet she could neither laugh nor scream； finding her eyes focused on his own； seeing into those dark pools … and beyond them into eternal darkness。
That exchange of gazes seemed to last an eternity。 Royston looked different but she knew that he was capable of changing his features at will； or rather when he looked at you like that you saw him how he wanted you to see him。 Earlier he had been Sabat； more like Sabat than Sabat was himself。 Now the big man seemed to have aged decades； a withered old man with straggling grey hair； similar features； yet lined and shrunken。 Just a couple of broken yellowed teeth so that when he spoke he lisped and dribbled； and Miranda had difficulty in hearing the words。 Gone were those splendid sinister robes and in their place a shabby grey morning coat and trousers that tapered into spats。 And in that same instant realisation dawned on her waking brain that she was stark naked； her clothes somehow having been removed。
Miranda wanted to flee； to rush screaming from this awful place； but somehow Royston had frozen her body as surely as though he had induced some paralysing drug into her bloodstream。 Even her eyeballs did not move。 His whispered words hit her with the force of a driving hailstorm。 'Look at me； for I am William Gardiner； awaiting to be resurrected with your Help！'
Now her terror was at a peak。 The man before her was Royston again； more sinister than that night of the Black Mass when a girl had died and Horace had been reduced to a babbling imbecile。 No longer did he hypnotise her brain； just every bodily function as surely as though she was imprisoned inside a suit of armour； being able to see and hear but not able to flutter so much as an eyelash。 And she knew that he had done this to her because he wanted to punish her； had passed worse than the death sentence on her because of the treachery she had planned with Sabat。 It was impossible to turn back once the Left Hand Path had been trodden。
She was conscious of being led to the black altar； of being made to lie flat on her back on the covered stone slab； feeling something touching her arm 。。。 knowing that she lay alongside that terrible skeleton and being powerless even to flinch！ bile rose in her throat。 She wanted to vomit but even the human reaction to revulsion of throwing up was denied her； inwardly screaming until her brain vibrated。 Yet it wasn't enough to shut out Royston's voice as he stood and faced his awed followers； arms aloft。
'Brethren； tonight we have the power to bring back he who was known as William Gardiner； to inject life into these bones which had mouldered for so long in the earth。 Because before tonight none were capable； none dared to do it until now。 The time is nigh。' His voice reached an hysterical pitch； brought murmurs from those who bowed their heads or looked up at him with reverence and fear； trying to dispel thoughts of reluctance in case this terrible man read them； for surely his powers were truly magical。
'Brethren； we have bones； human bones；' Royston's voice had sunk to a whisper yet it echoed loudly in this confined space。 'What do we need to give it life again； brethren？'
'Breath；' the reply in unison was like a hiss。 The candles seeming to be caught by the rush of air； flickered； and when the tiny flames were still again they appeared to have dimmed。 It could have been an illusion。
'Breath； indeed；' Royston shouted； saw the watchers cringe； a few in the background hiding their faces。 'The breath of a beautiful woman breathed into him； a mate to bring him life and joy。'
Miranda felt herself being lifted up； so easily that it was as if she was suddenly weightless。 One of the altar candles flickered again causing the features directly below her to grin evilly。 Oh God Almighty； no；' Not that I Whoever held her was lowering her slowly； her naked body being laid； face to face； directly upon that terrible thing that they had dug out of its last resting place； her thighs pulled apart so that those skeletal legs lay between them； the hard pubic bone scraping painfully against her own。 Her breasts were trapped and squashed in the hideous ribcage。 And her mouth was guided directly on to that black cavity in an unholy kiss that went beyond the grave。
'William Gardiner has a mate at last！' Royston's shout was close to hysteria。 'A woman who breathes life into him even now； cherishing his memory； one honoured to mate with him should he so desire！'
Miranda prayed that she might die there and then； a sudden heart attack brought on because she had passed the fear barrier。 Or madness； her brain snapping and sparing her the awfulness of reality； turning this into some wild sexual fantasy。 But neither happened。 She could not even draw back； instead to her horror she felt her tongue protruding； pushing its way into what had once been Gardiner's mouth in a simulation of copulation。 A vile taste and it was impossible even to retch； the sour flavour of damp earth on her palate blended with one of putrefying flesh。 The altar candle dimmed still further and beneath the weight of her own body the skeleton appeared to move； a settling of ancient bones that dug into her with a terrifying eagerness。 'He has breath；' Royston screeched。 'What else does he need； brethren？'
'Flesh；' the reply came back instantly。
'He has flesh now； pressing against his sacred bones。 But what else； brethren？ Flesh and breath； but his new arteries will need to be filled with that which will bring life to him； bring him back to us from beyond。'
'Blood！' A deafening chorus； a classroom prompted into the right answer by their teacher。 'G/ve him blood so that he will live again！' Echoes： 'blood 。 。 。 blood 。 。 。 blood。' Several of the smaller candles situated around the crypt were suddenly extinguished； the lurking shadows darting back； the stench of smoking candlewax sickening。
Miranda felt Royston moving close to her； knew what he was going to do； felt the coldness of the steel knife blade as it nicked her wrists； a tiny quarter…inch gash but gouged so expertly that she felt the blood spurting from her almost instantly。 Now her other wrist； her hands placed back immediately in Gardiner's skeletal grip。
Her head was pulled back by her auburn hair。 She braced herself mentally； physically it was impossible even to cringe。 A sharp strangulating pain and she knew the knife had cut deep； her head lowered back into its original position； that ghastly kiss of life for the dead。
Wide…eyed she watched herself from an angled position。 Silence； except for a noise like a tap squirting into a basin； white bones turning darkly crimson。 And； oh Jesus； she was still pushing into that vile mouth with her tongue！
It was darker now； just one altar candle left burning。 For Miranda the black shadows were tinged with red and her tongue…thrusts were being weaker by the second。 And there was no pain as though her body and her brain were no longer in munication with each other。
She was convinced that she had died a couple of minutes before
