Dusty and the Seven Shudder Sisters - Part 7

This is the seventh in Dusty's stories - as you may have noticed, I came up with a numerical theme for the stories and this is number 7.

What else but the Seven Deadly Sins - and the opposing Seven Heavenly Graces - for this story.

As before, I hope you enjoy the story.

pictures from Google free to use search

Part 1

Part 2

Part 3

Part 4

Part 5

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Dusty made a face to show her repulsion of the mess and then made her way back to the other room. The staircase was in one corner of the room and she estimated that the cellar door should be in the other corner, along the same wall.

She was right.

She had been inside a few ex-mineworkers’ houses to know the lay-out was always very similar.

The door was the best-kept part of the lower part of the house, it would seem.

Dusty went past the door, into the front-room to make sure there were no nasty surprises awaiting her that could follow her down to the cellar and trap her.

She didn’t fancy the idea of going down the stairs to meet with persons unknown, only to have another person unknown following her to cut off her escape.

The cellar steps were steep and in a state of disrepair as she had expected.

The wall ahead of her at the bottom of the steps had once been whitewashed.

The paint was peeling and cracked to show a dirty, dusty grey bloom of mildew on the brickwork.

To the right, the room directly under the front room was silent. The sounds of people trying to be quiet came from the other room.

Dusty dropped low to the floor and peered around the corner of the staircase. There must have been twenty people in the cellar, all standing as still as was possible, as quiet as possible.

They were facing the doorway at the bottom of the stairs but their eyes were not trained on the exit, their eyes were glazed over, their stares blank and devoid of anything.

Dusty gave an involuntary shiver as the thought of zombies crossed her mind.

She had seen the girl from the cafe but not the accompanying Shudder Sister, and Dusty wondered where she was hiding.

Dusty poked her head around the opposite doorway in the same way as she had for the other room and saw the silhouette of an old woman, bulky with layers of clothing in the gloom.

Slivers of light shafted down through broken and rotted floorboards to give enough light to see the Shudder Sister’s form.

Dusty had no idea which way she was facing, whether she had seen her or not or what she was doing down there all alone but Dusty decided to get out and assume that she had not been seen because no alarm had been raised.

Dusty pulled back and stood up once she was out of sight.

She went back up the stairs taking two at a time, as quiet as a cat-burglar.

She didn’t mind who saw her leave, it was too late for anyone to do anything now – far too late.

As she escaped, she had the germ of an idea.

She would need her grandparents – they knew far more about Norse mythology than she did.

Back home, Dusty was delighted to see that Ange had done exactly as she had been told.

She was sitting at the kitchen table, talking to Ben and Colleen, Dusty’s grandparents. They looked around as Dusty burst into the kitchen from the back garden.

Dusty was grinning as she sat down. Ben grinned too, he liked a challenge and Dusty had an air about her that said there were challenges afoot.

“Grandad, I need to ask a huge favour. Could I borrow something very precious please? I need to borrow a piece of armour,” Dusty said.

“The Atlantean shard?” Ben knew exactly which piece she meant. It was one of his most valued artefacts; he was very protective of it.

Dusty nodded. “I’ll be careful with it.”

“I know. Of course you may borrow it. I’ll get it for you,” he said but waited to see what else she was going to say.

“I wonder if you could get hold of a spinning wheel too?”

“A functioning one?” Colleen asked.

“If you can,” Dusty said.

Colleen nodded. “I think I know someone who can get me one. Will it be coming back?”

“I doubt it,” Dusty said.

“What else will you need?” Ben asked.

“Nothing I can think of...” Dusty said but remembered something. “If I can have some really delicious looking apples; that might help too.”

“Will you need your sword?” Ben asked.

“No Grandad, they’re people, not monsters. I don’t want to kill anyone.”

“Well, be all the more careful then,” Ben said.

“I promise Grandad.”