The Dead Take the A Train by Richard Kadrey EPUB & PDF

The Dead Take the A Train by Richard Kadrey EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online

  • Status: Available for Free Download
  • Author:Richard Kadrey
  • Language: English
  • Genre:Occult Horror
  • Format: PDF / EPUB
  • Size: 3.80 MB
  • Price: Free

There were few things in life Julie Crews enjoyed more than bachelorette
parties. They were, by design, one of those rare events where women
weren’t just permitted but encouraged to throw off their inhibitions. No
matter the amount of booze or the quantity of strippers, the drugs or the
homoerotic shenanigans, the shrieking, the woo-girling, the balloon penises,
the everything, it was all waved away as girls being girls, a bacchanal of the
stupid, like oblations for a twenty-first-century neon Dionysus.
Julie really liked bachelorette parties, which, in part, was why she was so
pissed.

“Okay. There are two ways we can do this. My way, or—”
“Please don’t fucking say it,” the thing slurred.
“—the wrong way.”

Blood gouted from the stump of the bride-to-be’s raised arm: a stinking
ooze of red syrup, far thicker than it should have been, with fist-size clots
and nearly black. The other reason all this needled Julie so much was she
liked the NoMad speakeasy, liked its pressed tin ceiling, the expensive
slouch of its furnishings, loved the gorgeous brass bathtub which stood as
its marquee attraction and was now filling with the putrid slurry. Sure, this
wasn’t anywhere she had cause to visit save once an actual paycheck. But it
was her spot for feigning any claim to pedigree.
And the demon was fucking it up.

And her toes, through the cut-out velveteen heels she’d borrowed from
poor St. Joan—God rest their friendship—were getting wet.
No. Not wet, Julie corrected herself.
Sodden.

She was beginning to regret the emerald dress she’d chosen to wear
instead of her usual jeans. In contrast to the elegant dress, her arms were a
road map of deep scars, earned over years of work, threaded with what
looked like barbed wire. On one arm was a rose tattoo, more thorns than
blossoms.

From the bleeding stump, a cephalopodic eye glared at Julie and said, “I
didn’t do anything wrong.”
Julie could see a tongue flicker in its oblong pupil and a rime of teeth
inside the dark—teeth so small they looked like salt grains in the dim
bronze lighting.
“You’re in possession of a human body.”
“I am borrowing it.”

“Does she know she’s on loan?”
The woman gibbered, eyes rolled back to the whites. Julie suspected she
was beautiful when not drenched in gore, rictused face sheened in sweat,
tongue lolling. She was runway-scrawny and cornfed-white. Legs for days.
Delicate ankles, ankles now hooked around Julie’s waist. Her knees banged
on the rim of the bathtub. Taffeta was everywhere, soaked through with red.
She—the fuck was her name? Ally? Alice? Some permutation of that, Julie
was sure—moaned, soft and low and terrified.

“No,” said the demon, sullen.
“In that case, it sounds like, what’s the fucking word for it—?”
“Cohabitation?”
“Criminal possession.”

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