Veneration of Dreams // Ransom Drysdale

eleven // matthew maroni

Katarina stifled a yawn with her sleeve, winding down the car window and tossing out the remains of her depleted cigarette.

"Drink?" Offered the man in the driver's seat and Katarina accepted, her fingers brushing against his as they reached for the flask of whiskey. She swallowed a large mouthful hoping the drink would wake her up but the warmth only made her sleepier.

"Told you we had the best." Said Ransom, taking a sip from the flask when she was finished. When he put it back, the lid clicked shut with the same metallic ding as Linda's lighter.

"I thought that was the bourbon." Katarina replied, unsure why.

Ransom was too distracted by the curve ahead to reply. They were picking up speed and the air flowing in through the open windows blasted Katarina's hair in her face and numbed her cheeks.

"No cameras here." Ransom said, explaining himself as he pulled up a short while from the driveway.

Sure enough, there were only trees around them and the glowing windows of a house in the distance. Katarina stepped out of the car, watching Ransom pull a coil of rope and a long knife out of the car boot, his hands clothed in plastic gloves she hadn't noticed before. He pulled off his shirt and began rifling through a brown leather bag, smirking when he caught her lingering stare. Katarina bit her lip but didn't look away as he changed into a tight black shirt then passed her the knife.

"Just in case." He said, and she saw the back of a pistol hanging out of his pants pocket. He rested his hand on it as they walked, keeping it from falling out.

Katarina tightened her grip on the knife.

"What about the dogs?" She asked as they neared a wooden gate.

Ransom pressed a finger to his lips in response, wincing as it creaked in the wind. Every sound felt magnified when they only had the chirping of crickets for company.

"Let's hope they're not hungry." He finally replied.

Strangely, the closer they walked to the former Thrombey house, the calmer Katarina felt. Her hand rested in his and she found herself drawing strength from the warmth, hoping she would continue to feel as brave through the long night ahead.

Katarina thought it was strange that Ransom had the key to the front door when Marta Cabrera had surely changed the locks since she began her stay but didn't find herself questioning it for more than a few moments. Before she knew it, they were slinking up the stairs to the master bedroom and the knife had shifted into her right hand, her dominant hand. What felt like a second later, she was standing over the woman's bedside. Then came the sound.

It was a distant ring at first, a whisper that rose into a piercing squeal the longer Katarina concentrated on it. Her eyes darted about the room, mouth agape with horror as she searched for Ransom, all the while fearing the young woman would wake up and join the cacaphony of screams in her ears. It reminded her of other incidents, the one that had gotten her discharged from the police force a number of years ago and one more recent than that which left bile in her throat. At first she thought Ransom was gone but a glance to the left proved her wrong when she found him hovering by the window. Before she could account for the smile on his lips, a figure rose from the sheets and Katarina acted before she could think.

Her arm dropped down as if the blade had a life of its own, glinting in the moonlight as it pierced the silk of Marta Cabrera's nightgown and stained the white fabric red. When she looked up again, Ransom was gone.

Katarina's hand flew to her mouth, her legs carrying her back from the bed and shivering figure beneath the sheets before she came to her senses and leapt at the window. Flinging the curtains aside, she saw the source of the sound. Her body froze.