Daughter of Kali- Awakening

by Shiulie Ghosh

  "Piss off, you turds," I told them. They guffawed with laughter.

  "If anyone's the turd, it's you, paki," Gobbo sneered. "Why don't you go back to where you came from?"

  I feigned astonishment.

  "What, London?"

  Gobbo's expression turned ugly. Not a big feat for his face. I turned and started walking quickly, wanting to get out of their way, but the next second someone grabbed my bag strap and yanked me backwards.

  "Hey!" I almost stumbled off balance, turning round furiously. "Leave me alone!"

  "Or what?" Gobbo sneered. "Your big lanky boyfriend isn't here. Where is he? Is he screwing your mate?"

  I shoved him hard and tried to walk away, but the three of them easily slammed me back against the side of a bus shelter. Gobbo's pugnacious face glowered at mine, his hair so closely cropped I could see his scalp glinting through it.

  "You don't belong here. You or anyone else who isn't British."

  "I was born in Britain," I spat at him. "That makes me British, you dick."

  "But you don't look like an English girl, do you? Let's see if you feel like an English girl." His mates tightened their grip as Gobbo blatantly put his hand on my chest. "Nah," he grinned insolently. "She feels like an ironing board."

  Sniggering, they all took turns to cop a feel.

  I struggled in their grip, feeling my anger mounting. My pulse quickened and my breath became short and hard. My vision darkened, and it was as if a crimson veil had dropped over my eyes.

  I saw red. Literally.

  “Leave. Me. Alone.”

  The words came out like hammer blows, shocking me with their intensity. My voice was gravelly and harsh, as cold as steel. There was an underlying tone of wrongness, a harmonic that twanged at the nerves. It wasn't my voice, it wasn't even a human voice. It was other.

  The boys released me immediately, stumbling backwards, their faces white.

  “Never touch me again. Or you will be sorry.”

  Gobbo nodded once, his eyes wide and glazed. None of them moved, though their bodies seemed poised for flight. In that instant, a cold certainty filled me. I could make them do anything. Shove pencils into their own eyes. Run into the traffic. Dive off a building. The feeling of power was exhilarating, intoxicating. It made my veins sing.

  And it terrified me.

  The spell broke.

  I saw the three boys in front of me clearly, pale and trembling. I turned and walked away, shaken by what I'd done. They were bullies, but I'd nearly made them wet themselves. That wasn't me. How the hell had I done that?

  ◆◆◆

  I was quiet on the bus to Banwell the next day. I could see Ed looking at me, but what could I say? Don't worry about me, I'm just turning into a freak. Just concentrate on the football match, I told myself.

  But when we got to the other school, we found the fixture had been called off. As our coach pulled into the car park, a harassed looking man in a tracksuit came running up to meet it. Mr Naylor stepped out to join him. There was a hurried discussion, then he got back on the bus, frowning.

  "Kids, the game's cancelled. Apparently some sixth formers have gone missing and the police are here, so we can't really play while that's going on. Go on and use the bathroom or get a snack. Be back here in twenty minutes!"

  This last was bellowed as we all rushed past him into the school. Ed and I headed for the canteen. We walked in silence, but we were both thinking the same thing.

  "Weird."

  "Yep."

  "Kids missing. Just like our school. And that other one, the catholic one."

  "But Andy and Helena ran away," I said, grabbing a diet coke.

  "I never really bought that. Andy was in the swim squad, and we used to practice together. He never said anything about running away."

  "Well, I bet the police will look into it and see if there's a connection," I said.

  We paid for our drinks and walked back down the corridor towards the exit. Just by the double doors was a news-stand containing the latest copies of the school magazine. The front cover was half-filled with a colourful photo. My gaze swept past the stand without really paying attention - then snapped back in disbelief. I stopped dead.

  The picture I was looking at was from a school play rehearsal with the drama students. It was for a forthcoming production of the Pirates of Penzance. The headline was a jaunty sounding "BANWELL ROCKS THE BOAT". But what caught my eye was the drama teacher, in her floral dress with her red hair coiled at her neck.

  Miss Smith.

  The picture was dated three days ago.

  Ed was holding the door for me with a puzzled grin.

  "What's up, Deva?" he asked.

  I wordlessly held the paper out to him. He was quick, I'll give him that. He recognised Miss Smith right away.

  "So what? So she's moonlighting at Banwell. Maybe the money's better."

  "The money's the same, isn't it? I thought substitute schoolteachers had a set amount per day. Don't you think it's odd that she's been at two schools where kids have disappeared?"

  Ed thought for a minute.

  "Well, if you put it like that, yeah. Shall we tell the cops?"

  I paused. I was remembering what Miss Smith had turned into. Seemed to have turned into. Don't tell Ed, a little voice whispered. Don't tell him you see things that aren't there. He would be disgusted. I wanted to find out more about Miss Smith, but I didn't want Ed thinking I was a freak.

  "No. It's probably a coincidence," I said decisively. "We don't want to get her into trouble. Forget it."

  He looked at me quizzically, but I marched off towards the bus, my head buzzing. I wanted very much to find out where Miss Smith lived. And I knew just the person who could do it.

  ◆◆◆

  "You want me to do what?"

  It was the following morning, and Em was not happy. "Kaz, if I hack into the school records there's a chance I'll get caught. It’s illegal, you know."

  "Oh come on. You hack into stuff all the time. Who's going to notice?" I gave her a nudge. "I just want to know what Miss Smith's up to. Don't you think it's weird she's been working at all these schools?"

  "But if you really think she's involved with those missing kids, you should call the police," Em said quite reasonably.

  "But what if it's nothing? Then I'll look like an idiot. This way we can find out if there's anything suspicious before we call your Dad's lot."

  "I don't know, Kaz, it seems a huge invasion of someone's privacy just to check out a hunch."

  For someone who spent all their time hacking into secure sites, Em was very concerned about personal space.

  "Look, we'll have a quick look round, see if there's anything strange, and if there isn't we'll just go away and she'll never know we've been there. It's not like we're getting the address of a total stranger, is it? She's our maths teacher!"

  Em gave in.

  "It'll have to be after school, my laptop's at home."

  I remembered the shadows I'd seen the first time I saw Miss Smith. I knew they were only hallucinations, but I couldn't shake off the feeling that there was something strange about her. What if you're imagining it? my inner voice whispered treacherously. What if you're going mad again? I shook it off.

  "Text me the address when you get it. I'll meet you there."

  ◆◆◆

  Em and I crouched behind a thick row of bushes opposite Miss Smith's home.

  "Are you sure this is right?" I asked for the umpteenth time.

  We were hiding across the road from a caravan park on the edge of town. It was run-down and shabby, and looked mostly empty. The mobile homes were nestled sadly in what was supposed to be a "Luxury Site", according to the bent and weather-worn sign at the entrance. If it had ever been luxurious, that was a long time ago.

  Currently we were staking out plot number 13. An old caravan with peeling paint and dirty little windows rested drunkenly on concrete support blocks at each corner. Inside, we could make out someo
ne moving around but there was no way of telling who.

  We were a good few dozen metres away - far enough not to be seen or heard by anyone on the site. Em had brought a pair of Zeiss binoculars and was studying the caravan.

  "Why would a school teacher live here?" I asked again. Em shushed me.

  "Just wait," she said, the binoculars clamped to her face. "This is the address listed in the school records. Maybe it's a temporary home or something."

  I tried to ease the cramp out of my calf. Dusk was still a couple of hours away but the sun was low. A chained-up dog was barking its head off. I started getting a prickling sensation on the back of my neck. I swept my eyes around the caravan site, trying to peer into the bushes and overgrown shrubs that marked out every plot. I didn't see anything, but I couldn't shake that feeling that we were being watched. Stop being a scaredy-cat, I told myself firmly.

  A twig snapped behind us.

  A hand landed on my shoulder.

  I leapt two feet into the air and whirled round in terror, only to see Ed crouched behind me, trying not to laugh.

  I glared at him.

  "Idiot," I growled when I could speak again. "You nearly ruined everything. What are you doing here?"

  "I told him. He texted me just as I was leaving home," Em said apologetically. "Sorry. I didn't think you'd mind."

  "Anyway, I knew you were up to something when you ditched me at Banwell yesterday," Ed said. He looked older, out of his school uniform. He stared at the caravan. "What a dump this is." The dog was still barking its head off. "Which one are we staking out?"

  "Miss Smith lives in that one," Emma said, pointing. "Kaz thinks she might know something about the missing kids." Ed looked at the caravan doubtfully.

  "Well, unless she's got them all piled up like a stack of pancakes, there's not enough room for a bunch of kids in there." He paused. "Unless she's chopped them into tiny...."

  "Shut up!"

  The caravan door opened.

  It was definitely Miss Smith. Even from this distance, we could make out the outline of that dress and see the light glinting off her red hair. She stood in the doorway for a second, then very deliberately turned her head towards the dog.

  Abruptly, it stopped barking. There was a moment of silence. Then the dog's entire posture changed. It started whining piteously, going down onto its belly and shuffling backwards as far as the chain would allow.

  Miss Smith grinned, and I had a sharp memory of how her flesh had looked that day in school. Grey, seeping, decayed, like a corpse. Shadows writhing over her face. I blinked hard, and the illusion vanished. My imagination was working overtime.

  "What's up with the dog?" whispered Em.

  "Here, give me the binoculars," I said, taking them from her. Through the lenses, the dog was three times as big. It looked panicked, biting dementedly at its chain, trying to get free. Miss Smith stalked towards it. In a desperate display of subservience, the dog abandoned the chain and rolled over onto its back, showing its belly. It whined pathetically as Miss Smith bent towards it. Em stirred uneasily.

  "What's she doing?" she whispered. Miss Smith reached a hand towards the dog, which started licking it in a pathetic show of friendship.

  "I think we should leave," Ed said suddenly. Em and I looked at him in surprise.

  "You're not scared, are you?" I taunted him. He turned to me, and for a second his blue-green eyes looked cold and hard.

  "It's not safe."

  I opened my mouth to argue, and in that moment Em gave a little gasp. I turned back to the caravan.

  Miss Smith had grabbed the dog's tongue. The dog yelped, trying to struggle to its feet. Then it shrieked in pain, as its tongue was torn from its mouth. The sound was inhuman, the dog madly pawing at its face as blood spurted through its teeth. Miss Smith regarded the dark pink meat hanging wetly in her hand for a second, then tipped her head back, and swallowed it down.

  Through the binoculars, the horrifying scene was so close, I felt like I could reach out and touch it. Beside me, I heard Em gagging. The sounds were drowned out by the dog's pain but still Miss Smith seemed to sense something. Her head whipped round and she stared straight at the bushes where we were hiding.

  Ed swore under his breath. She took a step towards us.

  The door to the caravan behind her opened. A large man dressed only in a vest, with a big beer belly hanging over a pair of old greying shorts, peered out. He had a bottle in one hand, a cigarette in the other.

  "What's all the noise?" he yelled. "Genghis, shut yer whining. Stupid dog, always making a racket." He stumbled down the two steps outside the door. His eyes focused on his dog. "Hey..."

  The dog was lying in a widening pool of blood, finally quieting and panting rapidly as it went into shock. Miss Smith stood next to it. She smiled at the man.

  "Your dog won't be barking again," she said sweetly.

  "What've you done? What've you done to my dog?" the man bellowed. He threw his cigarette to the floor and took a shambling step towards her, waving the bottle. "You hurt my dog? You dare touch my dog? I'll hurt you, you freakin' bitch!"

  He smashed the bottle against the side of the caravan, and held the jagged edge towards the teacher's face. Her smile widened.

  Beside me, Ed stirred.

  "Let me see," he whispered. I handed him the binoculars, feeling sick.

  "Oh, the poor dog." Em was upset at what had happened to Genghis. I was more worried about what would happen to us if she saw us.

  That feeling again. Like we were being watched. I whipped my head round nervously, scanning bushes behind us. Nothing. I turned back to the scene outside the caravan.

  Miss Smith had closed her hand over the jagged edge of the bottle and was simply holding it there. She seemed to feel no pain. Something dark oozed from between her fingers. Blood, I guessed, though it looked much too dark for that. Almost black. The man tried to free the bottle but couldn't move it an inch. He let go, and stepped back.

  "Don't want no trouble," he mumbled as he backed away. Miss Smith followed him, dropping the bottle on the ground and crunching it underfoot..

  "Should we do something?" whispered Em.

  "Like what?" I whispered back. "Did you see what she did to the dog?"

  Ed started to rise to his feet.

  "We need to go. Now."

  He abruptly sat down again. A hand had appeared on his shoulder, pushing him back to a crouch. Em opened her mouth to scream, and a second hand clamped across it before she could utter a sound.

  A shiver went down my spine. Someone was behind us.

  Slowly, my head swivelled round. I felt every tendon in my neck creaking as I turned.

  A figure in a long black leather coat knelt behind Em. A pair of angry eyes glared at me.

  There wasn't much light in the bushes, but I would have known that scowl anywhere.

  Mum.

  Chapter 5

  "All of you, stay quiet," she said, quietly but firmly. She shot me a glance. "I'll deal with you later."

  "I was just..."

  "Later."

  There was a strangled cry from the caravans. Miss Smith had the fat man backed up against the side of the vehicle, and there was nowhere for him to go. He had gone from being bullying and threatening, to crying and snivelling.

  "Please miss, whoever you are, I don't want no trouble. Leave me alone, I never liked that dog anyway. I won't say nuffin'," he whimpered.

  Miss Smith reached out and grabbed the man by the neck.

  "Too late," she hissed.

  She bent her head towards his, and opened her mouth. For a moment it looked like she was going to kiss him. But her mouth opened wider. Her bottom jaw unhinged like a snake's, pulling the flesh with it until little tears appeared at the corner of her lips. The man was screaming now, really screaming, beating at her hands and kicking out with his legs. It had no effect. She pulled the man's head into her gaping maw. Her jaws closed around the top of his skull. There was a crunching sound.
The man immediately drooped in her hand, silent at last. Miss Smith spat out the bones of his head, then dipped her face into his open skull. An obscene sucking noise drifted to us.

  In the bushes, we were rigid with shock. Em was white, the blood totally drained from her face. Ed's face was expressionless.

  Me? I was angry. I know I should have been terrified, horror-struck, at the very least nauseous. But I could feel a boiling rage starting to build. She'd killed a dog and its owner - and she'd done it with no more effort than it took to open a can of coke. And that jaw thing. That wasn't normal. Was it a deformity? What was she?

  Miss Smith raised her head, eyes half-closed in bliss, the lower half of her face obscenely red.

  "So delicious," she crooned. She dipped her head once again.

  "Kalpurna. Move." Mum was silently snaking backwards. Ed grabbed Em's arm and pulled her with him. She seemed barely capable of moving. I crept after them. When we'd put some distance between us and the caravan park, Mum stood up, and pulled us all to our feet.

  "Follow me. Hurry up," she said tersely.

  We trailed after her in silence, Em looked shell-shocked, leaning against Ed who was supporting her effortlessly. The Jeep was parked a few hundred yards away, and Mum helped Em into the back seat. Ed was about to climb in after her when Mum stopped him. She grabbed his shoulder and pulled him round.

  "How dare you?" Her voice was low and threatening.

  "Mum, it wasn't his fault..." I started, but both of them ignored me.

  "I didn't know this would happen." Ed's voice was steady, and he looked her straight in the eye. I realise he was taller than her, and he didn't flinch as the anger radiated off her.

  "You deliberately put my daughter in danger."

  "As a matter of fact, she got here first," he said calmly. Mum's hand tightened on his shoulder, and her knuckles shone white. It must have hurt, but Ed didn't make a sound.

  "Mum, what are you doing?" I said urgently. "Leave him alone!"

  "Why did you stay when you realised what was happening?" she hissed.

  "I was trying to get them both to leave," he said. "And then you showed up." I frowned, aware there was something wrong with this conversation, but I couldn't put my finger on it.