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The Last Arachne Teaser (Patreon)
Published:
2018-06-29 23:39:42
Imported:
2022-09
Content
Hey all!
I thought I would just drop a little bit of what I’ve been working on outside of HFHM. It is still very rough, and hasn’t seen any edits yet, but I wanted to get you excited for this little side project of mine (Oh, and it’s not a paid post, so no worries!).
This is part of the opening sequence for the Last Arachne, in which our hero, a Vietnam vet with nowhere to go, meets his future love interest. The story takes place in the late 70’s (I wrote 1979 in the teaser because I am still deciding on a year). The Last Arachne won’t be a simple short story with a couple of sex scenes. It will be a longer tale with more than a few erotic scenes as the relationship between our hero and the Arachne evolves. The events of the Last Arachne will also be important to the HFHM timeline.
After much discussion with my Design Team, this story will have some light bondage (at the least) as well as introduce the concept of monster hunters to the HFHM universe. There’s a reason this tale is called the Last Arachne after all.
I am very open to comments concerning the time period (wasn’t alive), as well as questions you may have (that won’t give away the plot) and what you hope to see in the erotic scenes (if it inspires me, I might write it in!). The Arachne has been designed and conceptualized as a character already, but I am still fleshing out the sexier bits, so there is plenty of leeway.
Also, I am trying out the Patreon app from my tablet in a remote location, so don’t have a way to attach a .doc file (apparently :/).
###
The Last Arachne
Matty’s Diner - 1978
Darren walked with a noticeable limp, just one of many souvenirs from a war he couldn’t leave behind. It was only a short walk from the bus stop to Matty's diner, and he was absolutely famished. He could feel eyes on him, the locals immediately suspicious of the large duffel bag and military jacket. He didn't bother challenging their stares - it wouldn't be the first town he wasn't welcome in, and it wouldn't be the last.
The bell over the door rang when he opened it, but nobody in the diner seemed to pay it any attention. The wait staff bustled about, serving hot meals to families who still wore their Sunday best. On a chalkboard above the kitchen, the Sunrise Special was a bargain at less than 3 bucks a head, and came with a sizzling side of bacon and bottomless coffee. Matty's Special was a large 1/2 pound burger with hot sauce and some onion rings on the side. Darren’s mind went back and forth between the two, and the limited amount of cash in his pocket. Which would keep him full for longer?
"Take a seat anywhere." A passing waitress told him, casting an eye in his direction just long enough to avoid hitting him with her tray. "Hannah will be with you shortly."
Darren nodded, walking along the wall to an empty booth at the end. He sat down on the soft fabric, noting that a split in the cushions revealed the rubbery yellow foam inside. A couple of younger kids stared at him from their tables, their food instantly forgotten. Hushed reprisals from their parents did little to stifle their curiosity.
"What can I get ya?" Hannah appeared as if by magic, her eyes fixed on a small yellow notepad. She was in her mid-forties, her white and yellow uniform faded by hundreds of washes.
"Sunrise Special," Darren told her.
"How do you want your eggs?"
"Scrambled." Darren tugged on his duffel bag, pulling it farther under the table.
"Coffee?"
"Black."
"Got it." Hannah vanished, returning a second later with a slightly chipped mug and a pot of coffee. She poured it, the faint aroma of hazelnut drifting across the table to tickle Darren's nose. She slid it toward him along with a small plate of toast. "You look hungry. This will get you through."
"Thank you." Darren held the mug in both hands, letting the heat seep into his knuckles. He never used to like coffee, had never touched it before Vietnam. The smell of it transported him to those early morning patrols, time spent with Little Mike, Dwayne, and Garrett. It was the calm before the storm, a moment of silence in a world that had become too loud. Closing his eyes, he could almost smell the jungle around the edges of his memory, hear Dwayne teasing Little Mike about his height.
"Good morning son." He wore a light brown jacket with a star pinned to the outside, hitching his belt up before sliding into the space across from Darren.
"Morning sheriff." Darren kept his eyes on his coffee. This conversation rarely went well, so the less he said the better. He had learned six months ago not to lose his temper with the law.
"Got word that a soldier came in on the nine o'clock, so thought I would take a peek." He offered his hand. "Sheriff Walters."
Darren took his hand and gave a firm squeeze. "Darren."
"You just get out of the service Darren?" Sheriff Walters leaned back in his chair, giving Darren's duffel bag a gentle poke with his shoe.
"Ten months ago, sir." Darren sipped his coffee, staring out the window.
"That's a long time to be headed somewhere, isn't it?" Walters was handed a cup of coffee. "Thanks Hannah." He took a sip and sighed.
"So are you just passing through, or looking to settle?"
"Traveling." Darren had no idea where he was going, if he was honest with himself. In some ways, he was still wandering the jungle, waiting for Charlie to put a bullet in the back of his head. Sometimes the bullet was the town sheriff, or a group of hippies who liked to spit. Either way, something always forced him to move on.
"Uh huh." Walters stared at him for several seconds. "Well, way I see it you look like a man who needs a break. You're welcome to stay here as long as you don't cause any trouble. The locals won't bother you, if that's your worry."
"Thank you sir." Darren lifted his eyes to meet the sheriff's. Sheriff Walters had deep crow's feet, and his short hair had gone mostly gray. Though Walters was leaning back, Darren saw that he sat with his hand near his belt, his gun accessible at a moments notice. Hannah appeared with his Sunrise Special, placing it in front of him. Extra bacon had been piled on the side. Darren thanked her before she vanished once more.
"If you need any work, stop by the community board at the library." Walters was digging in his pocket. "I don't expect a man like you is looking to stay, but a little extra pocket change never hurt anybody." Walters laid a five dollar bill on the edge of the table. "This is a small town, Darren, and we take care of our own. A couple of our boys never made it home, so if you need anything while you're here, you just let me know."
"Thank you sheriff." The pain in Walters' voice was mirrored by an intensity in his eyes that Darren had experienced first hand. When the sheriff stood to leave, Darren rose as well, extending his hand. The sheriff shook it, then picked up his mug and walked out the door, waving to Hannah behind the counter. Darren sat back down, allowing a small sigh of relief to pass his lips. How long had it been since he had been made to feel welcome? Even his own hometown had gone anti-war, and the friends he had grown up with treated him with polite disdain at best.
Things would have been different if Daryl had come back with him. His twin had been his better half, the charming one who could make anyone smile. Thinking back to the time they stole the principal's car for a joyride, Darren couldn't help but smile at the memory of his brother grinning at the police from the driver seat, informing them that he had no idea how fast he had been going because he wasn't tall enough to see the speedometer.
For perhaps the millionth time, Darren wondered what would have happened if the sniper had chosen a different target.
"You okay?" Hannah reappeared, refilling his mug.
"Yes ma'am."
"Eat your food before it gets cold," she told him, sliding the five dollar bill off the table and into her pocket. "And you let me know if you need anything else."
"Thank you." Darren took a piece of bacon, biting into it. It was perfectly crisp with just a few pockets of grease on top. He broke off a few pieces to eat with his eggs and toast, devouring the Sunrise Special in a matter of minutes. He mulled over the sheriff's kindness, finishing his coffee over the next hour.
-
The Old Library - 1978
The library was across from the old church, both buildings sporting plaques declaring that they had been built in the late 1920’s. The church looked slightly run down, all of the downstairs windows boarded up. The front door had a significant padlock on the front, and no services were posted on the board out front.
The library, on the other hand, appeared to be quite busy. A steady stream of people were moving in and out of the entrance. A large field behind the library was populated by several families who had organized picnics, a perfect picture of small town tranquility. Darren watched as a father threw the pigskin for his son, pumping his hands in delight when the ten year old caught it. How long had it been since Darren’s own father had done such a thing, let alone looked him square in the eye?
Darren shook his head. The fault was largely his own. He had come back from the war a different man, one who was always looking for a fight. His father had tried, he really had, but neither of them had come to term with Daryl’s death in a foreign land. They had shipped his brother home in a box, or at least what they thought was him.
The door to the library was whimsically designed to look like it had been carved from a tree. Darren couldn’t help but smile when a little girl grabbed onto the over-sized handle, pulling it open by leaning backward with her whole body. Coming up from behind, Darren held the door for her. Tossing a quick look back at him, she sprinted across the cheap linoleum of the lobby, vanishing through the bathroom door.
The lobby itself was ordinary. A couple of cheap benches made a small sitting area, and a drinking fountain had been installed just inside the entrance. Walking up for a drink, he saw the community board that the sheriff had mentioned, cork board with spare pins to hang advertisements. Scratching at his beard, he flipped through the ads that people had left behind.
Several of them were of little use. Several of the parents in town were seeking baby sitters, and someone was offering to teach piano. The grocery store was looking for a bag boy, and Darren knew he would rather just move to the next town than spend all day trying to avoid conversations with people while stuffing their bags with bread and bananas. Flipping through the ads, he found one buried toward the bottom. Most of the fliers had been printed out on nicer paper, but this one had been hastily. scrawled on yellow tablet paper.
HANDYMAN WANTED
Reasonable Wage + Room +Board
See Head Librarian
Darren pulled the flyer off the bulletin board, his eyes scanning it numerous times. A handyman job might not be bad. He wouldn’t have to work with people, which he saw as a plus. The town itself seemed pretty quiet, but it was the room and board offer that really caught his eye.
He had rarely stayed in any town for more than a week or so. The idea that he may be able to stay somewhere without sleeping on a bench or someone’s couch appealed to him. He was pretty handy with tools, the result of a childhood building cars with his dad and brother. He thought back to the sheriff’s words, a promise of a second chance if he wanted it. In a country so divided on its politics, any new town he traveled to would be yet another coin flip. He had yet to receive a welcome like he had here, and he wasn’t certain that his heart could take another unnecessary bar fight, or a police escort to the edge of town.
The front door of the library opened, causing a breeze to ruffle the papers on the board. The sudden shuffling noise took Darren thousands of miles away. They were no longer papers rubbing against each other, but jungle leaves shifting in the dead of night. Darren clutched his M16, eyes scanning the dark, wet terrain. The jungle shifted, and a dark figure emerged, wide eyed and clutching a stack of books.
“Are you a soldier?” The figure asked, and the jungle vanished, replaced by the lobby and a ten year old boy. The room tilted briefly, and Darren squeezed his eyes shut, then fixed them on the kid in front of him.
“I used to be,” he answered.
“Neat!” The boy, his curiosity satisfied, walked past Darren and stuffed his books into a large metal bin. He rounded the corner, and Darren followed. The large hallway behind the lobby led to a couple of doors on the left, empty rooms with tables and chairs in them. The boy passed them, going through a set of double doors into the library proper. Darren walked in behind him.
The library consisted of two levels. The upper level consisted of stacks of book, and the few adults he saw were up above. The main floor was populated with shorter shelves full of children’s books. Along the edges, a few chairs had been placed, a few people reading quietly to themselves. The information desk by the entrance was empty, so Darren walked around it, looking for anybody who could help him.
A woman’s voice rose over the stacks, soft and motherly. Tilting his head to listen, he realized that the voice was reading out loud, a story about an ugly duckling trying to make its way through life. Darren followed the voice, stepping around the stacks and moving closer. Through the pauses in her readings, he could now hear the rustling of the pages, but couldn’t quite figure out why he couldn’t see her.
Stepping around a stack, he got his answer. A recessed portion of the floor created a natural sitting area for the spellbound children that surrounded her. She wore a black knit pullover and sat in an oversized chair with several cushions, her long, dark hair hanging around her shoulders. Her face was hidden behind a large pair of horn-rimmed glasses. Slouching forward, she held up a picture book for the children to see. An ugly duckling was hiding under some leaves in a rainstorm, staring wistfully out at a pond.
Darren walked softly, afraid that he would break the spell. Children between the ages of two and ten were gathered around her, gazing wistfully at the woman reading to them. Darren stood behind the children, waiting for her to finish. The ugly duckling grew into a beautiful swan and swam off into the sunset, or something like that. The children clapped, and several stood up to give the reader a big hug. Darren couldn’t help but notice the wistful look in her eye as she watched them go. Setting the book in her lap, she locked eyes with Darren. Her eyes were just as dark as her hair, and Darren was surprised by the intensity of her gaze.
“May I help you?” She asked, her arms folded in her lap.
“Maybe.” Darren held up the yellow piece of paper. “I’m supposed to see the Head Librarian.”
“I see.” Her expression softened. “That would be me.” She swept aside her hair, then grabbed a knob on the edge of her armrest. With the flick of her wrist, her motorized chair spun in place and moved up the ramp behind her. He met her at the top of the ramp, where she took the paper from him.
“My name is Ana.” She pronounced it Ah-na. “The children call me Ms. Rae.”
“Nice to meet you Ms. Rae, my name is Darren.” He offered her his hand, and she took it. He noticed that the veins in her hand stood out, thin blue webs on a chalky white canvas. He felt positively massive standing next to Ana, despite the bulk of her wheelchair.
“Follow me.” Her chair whirred, and she went around him, going past the stacks. She was soon back at the information desk where a young blonde stood behind the desk.
###
I hope that was enough to whet your appetite. Chapter 20 should be up tomorrow!
Be kind to each other!
Annabelle
I thought I would just drop a little bit of what I’ve been working on outside of HFHM. It is still very rough, and hasn’t seen any edits yet, but I wanted to get you excited for this little side project of mine (Oh, and it’s not a paid post, so no worries!).
This is part of the opening sequence for the Last Arachne, in which our hero, a Vietnam vet with nowhere to go, meets his future love interest. The story takes place in the late 70’s (I wrote 1979 in the teaser because I am still deciding on a year). The Last Arachne won’t be a simple short story with a couple of sex scenes. It will be a longer tale with more than a few erotic scenes as the relationship between our hero and the Arachne evolves. The events of the Last Arachne will also be important to the HFHM timeline.
After much discussion with my Design Team, this story will have some light bondage (at the least) as well as introduce the concept of monster hunters to the HFHM universe. There’s a reason this tale is called the Last Arachne after all.
I am very open to comments concerning the time period (wasn’t alive), as well as questions you may have (that won’t give away the plot) and what you hope to see in the erotic scenes (if it inspires me, I might write it in!). The Arachne has been designed and conceptualized as a character already, but I am still fleshing out the sexier bits, so there is plenty of leeway.
Also, I am trying out the Patreon app from my tablet in a remote location, so don’t have a way to attach a .doc file (apparently :/).
###
The Last Arachne
Matty’s Diner - 1978
Darren walked with a noticeable limp, just one of many souvenirs from a war he couldn’t leave behind. It was only a short walk from the bus stop to Matty's diner, and he was absolutely famished. He could feel eyes on him, the locals immediately suspicious of the large duffel bag and military jacket. He didn't bother challenging their stares - it wouldn't be the first town he wasn't welcome in, and it wouldn't be the last.
The bell over the door rang when he opened it, but nobody in the diner seemed to pay it any attention. The wait staff bustled about, serving hot meals to families who still wore their Sunday best. On a chalkboard above the kitchen, the Sunrise Special was a bargain at less than 3 bucks a head, and came with a sizzling side of bacon and bottomless coffee. Matty's Special was a large 1/2 pound burger with hot sauce and some onion rings on the side. Darren’s mind went back and forth between the two, and the limited amount of cash in his pocket. Which would keep him full for longer?
"Take a seat anywhere." A passing waitress told him, casting an eye in his direction just long enough to avoid hitting him with her tray. "Hannah will be with you shortly."
Darren nodded, walking along the wall to an empty booth at the end. He sat down on the soft fabric, noting that a split in the cushions revealed the rubbery yellow foam inside. A couple of younger kids stared at him from their tables, their food instantly forgotten. Hushed reprisals from their parents did little to stifle their curiosity.
"What can I get ya?" Hannah appeared as if by magic, her eyes fixed on a small yellow notepad. She was in her mid-forties, her white and yellow uniform faded by hundreds of washes.
"Sunrise Special," Darren told her.
"How do you want your eggs?"
"Scrambled." Darren tugged on his duffel bag, pulling it farther under the table.
"Coffee?"
"Black."
"Got it." Hannah vanished, returning a second later with a slightly chipped mug and a pot of coffee. She poured it, the faint aroma of hazelnut drifting across the table to tickle Darren's nose. She slid it toward him along with a small plate of toast. "You look hungry. This will get you through."
"Thank you." Darren held the mug in both hands, letting the heat seep into his knuckles. He never used to like coffee, had never touched it before Vietnam. The smell of it transported him to those early morning patrols, time spent with Little Mike, Dwayne, and Garrett. It was the calm before the storm, a moment of silence in a world that had become too loud. Closing his eyes, he could almost smell the jungle around the edges of his memory, hear Dwayne teasing Little Mike about his height.
"Good morning son." He wore a light brown jacket with a star pinned to the outside, hitching his belt up before sliding into the space across from Darren.
"Morning sheriff." Darren kept his eyes on his coffee. This conversation rarely went well, so the less he said the better. He had learned six months ago not to lose his temper with the law.
"Got word that a soldier came in on the nine o'clock, so thought I would take a peek." He offered his hand. "Sheriff Walters."
Darren took his hand and gave a firm squeeze. "Darren."
"You just get out of the service Darren?" Sheriff Walters leaned back in his chair, giving Darren's duffel bag a gentle poke with his shoe.
"Ten months ago, sir." Darren sipped his coffee, staring out the window.
"That's a long time to be headed somewhere, isn't it?" Walters was handed a cup of coffee. "Thanks Hannah." He took a sip and sighed.
"So are you just passing through, or looking to settle?"
"Traveling." Darren had no idea where he was going, if he was honest with himself. In some ways, he was still wandering the jungle, waiting for Charlie to put a bullet in the back of his head. Sometimes the bullet was the town sheriff, or a group of hippies who liked to spit. Either way, something always forced him to move on.
"Uh huh." Walters stared at him for several seconds. "Well, way I see it you look like a man who needs a break. You're welcome to stay here as long as you don't cause any trouble. The locals won't bother you, if that's your worry."
"Thank you sir." Darren lifted his eyes to meet the sheriff's. Sheriff Walters had deep crow's feet, and his short hair had gone mostly gray. Though Walters was leaning back, Darren saw that he sat with his hand near his belt, his gun accessible at a moments notice. Hannah appeared with his Sunrise Special, placing it in front of him. Extra bacon had been piled on the side. Darren thanked her before she vanished once more.
"If you need any work, stop by the community board at the library." Walters was digging in his pocket. "I don't expect a man like you is looking to stay, but a little extra pocket change never hurt anybody." Walters laid a five dollar bill on the edge of the table. "This is a small town, Darren, and we take care of our own. A couple of our boys never made it home, so if you need anything while you're here, you just let me know."
"Thank you sheriff." The pain in Walters' voice was mirrored by an intensity in his eyes that Darren had experienced first hand. When the sheriff stood to leave, Darren rose as well, extending his hand. The sheriff shook it, then picked up his mug and walked out the door, waving to Hannah behind the counter. Darren sat back down, allowing a small sigh of relief to pass his lips. How long had it been since he had been made to feel welcome? Even his own hometown had gone anti-war, and the friends he had grown up with treated him with polite disdain at best.
Things would have been different if Daryl had come back with him. His twin had been his better half, the charming one who could make anyone smile. Thinking back to the time they stole the principal's car for a joyride, Darren couldn't help but smile at the memory of his brother grinning at the police from the driver seat, informing them that he had no idea how fast he had been going because he wasn't tall enough to see the speedometer.
For perhaps the millionth time, Darren wondered what would have happened if the sniper had chosen a different target.
"You okay?" Hannah reappeared, refilling his mug.
"Yes ma'am."
"Eat your food before it gets cold," she told him, sliding the five dollar bill off the table and into her pocket. "And you let me know if you need anything else."
"Thank you." Darren took a piece of bacon, biting into it. It was perfectly crisp with just a few pockets of grease on top. He broke off a few pieces to eat with his eggs and toast, devouring the Sunrise Special in a matter of minutes. He mulled over the sheriff's kindness, finishing his coffee over the next hour.
-
The Old Library - 1978
The library was across from the old church, both buildings sporting plaques declaring that they had been built in the late 1920’s. The church looked slightly run down, all of the downstairs windows boarded up. The front door had a significant padlock on the front, and no services were posted on the board out front.
The library, on the other hand, appeared to be quite busy. A steady stream of people were moving in and out of the entrance. A large field behind the library was populated by several families who had organized picnics, a perfect picture of small town tranquility. Darren watched as a father threw the pigskin for his son, pumping his hands in delight when the ten year old caught it. How long had it been since Darren’s own father had done such a thing, let alone looked him square in the eye?
Darren shook his head. The fault was largely his own. He had come back from the war a different man, one who was always looking for a fight. His father had tried, he really had, but neither of them had come to term with Daryl’s death in a foreign land. They had shipped his brother home in a box, or at least what they thought was him.
The door to the library was whimsically designed to look like it had been carved from a tree. Darren couldn’t help but smile when a little girl grabbed onto the over-sized handle, pulling it open by leaning backward with her whole body. Coming up from behind, Darren held the door for her. Tossing a quick look back at him, she sprinted across the cheap linoleum of the lobby, vanishing through the bathroom door.
The lobby itself was ordinary. A couple of cheap benches made a small sitting area, and a drinking fountain had been installed just inside the entrance. Walking up for a drink, he saw the community board that the sheriff had mentioned, cork board with spare pins to hang advertisements. Scratching at his beard, he flipped through the ads that people had left behind.
Several of them were of little use. Several of the parents in town were seeking baby sitters, and someone was offering to teach piano. The grocery store was looking for a bag boy, and Darren knew he would rather just move to the next town than spend all day trying to avoid conversations with people while stuffing their bags with bread and bananas. Flipping through the ads, he found one buried toward the bottom. Most of the fliers had been printed out on nicer paper, but this one had been hastily. scrawled on yellow tablet paper.
HANDYMAN WANTED
Reasonable Wage + Room +Board
See Head Librarian
Darren pulled the flyer off the bulletin board, his eyes scanning it numerous times. A handyman job might not be bad. He wouldn’t have to work with people, which he saw as a plus. The town itself seemed pretty quiet, but it was the room and board offer that really caught his eye.
He had rarely stayed in any town for more than a week or so. The idea that he may be able to stay somewhere without sleeping on a bench or someone’s couch appealed to him. He was pretty handy with tools, the result of a childhood building cars with his dad and brother. He thought back to the sheriff’s words, a promise of a second chance if he wanted it. In a country so divided on its politics, any new town he traveled to would be yet another coin flip. He had yet to receive a welcome like he had here, and he wasn’t certain that his heart could take another unnecessary bar fight, or a police escort to the edge of town.
The front door of the library opened, causing a breeze to ruffle the papers on the board. The sudden shuffling noise took Darren thousands of miles away. They were no longer papers rubbing against each other, but jungle leaves shifting in the dead of night. Darren clutched his M16, eyes scanning the dark, wet terrain. The jungle shifted, and a dark figure emerged, wide eyed and clutching a stack of books.
“Are you a soldier?” The figure asked, and the jungle vanished, replaced by the lobby and a ten year old boy. The room tilted briefly, and Darren squeezed his eyes shut, then fixed them on the kid in front of him.
“I used to be,” he answered.
“Neat!” The boy, his curiosity satisfied, walked past Darren and stuffed his books into a large metal bin. He rounded the corner, and Darren followed. The large hallway behind the lobby led to a couple of doors on the left, empty rooms with tables and chairs in them. The boy passed them, going through a set of double doors into the library proper. Darren walked in behind him.
The library consisted of two levels. The upper level consisted of stacks of book, and the few adults he saw were up above. The main floor was populated with shorter shelves full of children’s books. Along the edges, a few chairs had been placed, a few people reading quietly to themselves. The information desk by the entrance was empty, so Darren walked around it, looking for anybody who could help him.
A woman’s voice rose over the stacks, soft and motherly. Tilting his head to listen, he realized that the voice was reading out loud, a story about an ugly duckling trying to make its way through life. Darren followed the voice, stepping around the stacks and moving closer. Through the pauses in her readings, he could now hear the rustling of the pages, but couldn’t quite figure out why he couldn’t see her.
Stepping around a stack, he got his answer. A recessed portion of the floor created a natural sitting area for the spellbound children that surrounded her. She wore a black knit pullover and sat in an oversized chair with several cushions, her long, dark hair hanging around her shoulders. Her face was hidden behind a large pair of horn-rimmed glasses. Slouching forward, she held up a picture book for the children to see. An ugly duckling was hiding under some leaves in a rainstorm, staring wistfully out at a pond.
Darren walked softly, afraid that he would break the spell. Children between the ages of two and ten were gathered around her, gazing wistfully at the woman reading to them. Darren stood behind the children, waiting for her to finish. The ugly duckling grew into a beautiful swan and swam off into the sunset, or something like that. The children clapped, and several stood up to give the reader a big hug. Darren couldn’t help but notice the wistful look in her eye as she watched them go. Setting the book in her lap, she locked eyes with Darren. Her eyes were just as dark as her hair, and Darren was surprised by the intensity of her gaze.
“May I help you?” She asked, her arms folded in her lap.
“Maybe.” Darren held up the yellow piece of paper. “I’m supposed to see the Head Librarian.”
“I see.” Her expression softened. “That would be me.” She swept aside her hair, then grabbed a knob on the edge of her armrest. With the flick of her wrist, her motorized chair spun in place and moved up the ramp behind her. He met her at the top of the ramp, where she took the paper from him.
“My name is Ana.” She pronounced it Ah-na. “The children call me Ms. Rae.”
“Nice to meet you Ms. Rae, my name is Darren.” He offered her his hand, and she took it. He noticed that the veins in her hand stood out, thin blue webs on a chalky white canvas. He felt positively massive standing next to Ana, despite the bulk of her wheelchair.
“Follow me.” Her chair whirred, and she went around him, going past the stacks. She was soon back at the information desk where a young blonde stood behind the desk.
###
I hope that was enough to whet your appetite. Chapter 20 should be up tomorrow!
Be kind to each other!
Annabelle