Promised Land Lane

by Brown, Marcus

  “My darling. What can I do to stop the pain?”

  “Get me up into the bedroom please, Mark. I can’t give birth here.”

  Mark carried his wife upstairs and laid her gently on the bed as Juliet rushed in with boiling water and sheets.

  “Out now, Mark.” Juliet instructed, pointing at the door. “It won’t be long now.”

  “But…” he started to argue.

  “Mark, please. There isn’t much time. Samantha doesn’t want you in here.”

  He wanted to remain by his wife’s side and help her through the labour, but they had discussed it many months before when Samantha told him only her sister was to be in the room.

  On and off, for nineteen hours, his wife had screamed, and at precisely six am on the sixth day of June, his son entered the world. He stood at the bottom of the staircase as the child’s healthy screams announced its arrival into the world.

  Mark clutched a tiny gold cross in his hand and prayed for a miracle.

  Juliet came slowly down the stairs wiping her brow, looking tired.

  “How is she?” Mark asked.

  He could tell something was wrong as Juliet looked worried.

  “Sam’s doing well, considering,” Juliet announced.

  “Considering what?”

  “You have a son and that’s all that matters.” Mark could tell by the tone of his sister-in-law’s voice that something was not right.

  Juliet’s choice of words worried him. “What’s wrong with my son? Tell me.” Mark was anxious and thoughts of losing another child filled his mind.

  “He’s a beautiful little boy.”

  “I won’t ask you again, Juliet.” Mark was stern and gripped her by the arm.

  Juliet shrugged him off. “Samantha needs you now.”

  He pushed past his sister-in-law and made his way up the stairs, his heart fluttering in his chest. Stopping outside of their bedroom door, he could hear his wife cooing at their newborn son and was puzzled as to what could be so badly wrong if his wife was behaving in such a way.

  Mark wasn’t sure what lay beyond the door and was scared so knocked gently and waited for his invitation. “Come in,” Samantha replied, sounding exhausted.

  Pushing the door open and entering the room, he saw Samantha was stood beside the wooden crib he had made for their first child. She was gently rocking it, and as he approached she turned and held out her hand, beckoning him closer.

  He walked across the room and grabbed her waiting hand before stepping up to the crib.

  His heart melted at the sound of gurgling noises the baby was making in his crib. He looked down and for a moment wasn’t sure if he was dreaming. Looking back at him with eyes as black as coal was the son he had prayed for. He noticed the deathly pale skin and gasped. He stood back, repulsed, his mind unable to register what he was seeing.

  “Samantha, what in God’s name is wrong with him?” Mark approached and made the sign of the cross upon the baby’s chest causing him to scream – the sound was ungodly.

  “There’s nothing wrong with our son. He’s perfect.”

  “But his eyes… his skin.”

  “He’s the most unique and beautiful child in the whole world, Mark. Don’t you see that?”

  “We have to call the midwife.” Mark didn’t know what to suggest for the best -- this was the first thing that came to his mind.

  “No, I don’t want anybody near my child. There’s nothing wrong with him.”

  “You’re not thinking straight. There’s something wrong with his eyes… they’re black.”

  “He has the eyes of our Lord.”

  “You’re not making any sense. What do you mean?”

  Samantha lifted the child from his crib and held him tight to her chest. She grimaced as he began to suckle on the skin above her breast. She looked down and realised he had torn into her with his tiny razor sharp teeth.

  “That’s right my beautiful little boy. Feed and grow strong.”

  Mark was horrified as he noticed a trickle of blood run down her breast and past her navel.

  “You’re bleeding, Sam.”

  “I’m feeding our son.”

  “What in God’s name are you talking about?”

  “Do not speak of your God in my presence.”

  “I refuse to go through this again.” Mark’s anger threatened to boil over. “You promised me this madness had stopped. Even after I found that vile book, I told myself it was just something you had to do so you could grieve.”

  She appeared to ignore the comment about her grimoire. “And I told you the truth, but I wanted a child and there was only one way.”

  “What have you done?” Mark asked, resisting the urge to cry. He had wanted a healthy child so badly and prayed night after night, but it seemed his God had abandoned him.

  “I did the only thing I could to have a child of my own.”

  “No!” Mark raised his voice and covered his ears. “I don’t want to hear any more.”

  Juliet came running up the stairs as they continued to shout at one another.

  “Go downstairs,” he demanded. “This has nothing to do with you.”

  “What’s done is done, Mark. It’s too late to change it.” Juliet tried to calm him,

  “I won’t have that thing in my house,” he said, disgusted. Mark couldn’t think of the child as his own.

  “That thing is your son, and I’m your wife.” Samantha wrapped her arms tightly around their new baby.

  “You promised me, Sam.”

  “And I tried to keep my promise, but it was the only way.”

  “If our destiny was to remain childless, then that is the way it should have stayed.”

  “I wanted a child of my own.”

  “I won’t have that… creature in my house.”

  “If he goes, then I’ll leave with him.”

  “So be it,” he said, storming out of the room, slamming the door behind him.

  Chapter 43

  “So, what did you do?” Sandra asked, dragging Mark crashing back to the present.

  He shrugged. “She stayed, and I tried my best to love our son, although I hated him.”

  “He hadn’t asked to be born,” Sandra said.

  “That’s true, but in the end, I knew I couldn’t live with what he was. He looked like a monster, so we kept his birth a secret, only taking him into the garden for fresh air at night time. Despite his appearance, he behaved like every other child, but he wouldn’t eat normal food and fed from his mother. I couldn’t bear to watch him drink the blood from her - he made awful snorting noises whilst he fed – as though he were ravenous. It wasn’t until he was a year old he began to eat, but it was always uncooked flesh he would consume. The sight of it made me sick to my stomach. I couldn’t stand to be in the house with him so began to spend long hours away looking after my fields - anything to keep my mind occupied.”

  Mark stopped speaking and seemed to be stuck in his world of memories.

  “What happened then?” Sandra asked.

  “Samantha became pregnant again. It was as though my prayers had been answered, but I was terrified throughout the whole pregnancy at what she would give birth to.”

  “Maisie,” David said quietly as he turned his head towards her. She was still crouched near the corner of the room.

  Sandra wondered if Maisie was listening to what her father was saying, and if she even cared.

  “Yes, Maisie, but I needn’t have worried as she was the most beautiful little girl I had ever seen. My heart melted when I looked upon her for the first time, but Samantha pushed her away and would not feed her, even when she screamed into the night so I had to find alternate means. I struggled, and knew nothing of looking after a baby, but eventually I found a way to nourish her and she thrived. I was blessed for she was the opposite of her brother. Beautiful with bouncing blonde curls and the sweetest temperament I had ever seen in a child.”

  Sandra looked at Maisie, still crouched down in t
he corner of the hallway, and found it hard to accept the monster before her could ever have been the way her father described.

  “Did your wife ever care for Maisie?” Sandra quizzed.

  “To the outside world, yes she did, but alone, she had no time for our daughter and interacted with her when absolutely necessary. I fed her, bathed her, clothed her and cuddled her when she was sick or scared, but Samantha looked at her as though she was diseased. Her brother wanted to be close to her all the time --the bond between siblings was strong, but I forbade it. I wouldn’t leave the house unless Maisie was with me, but things began to change. Her brother, Luke, had stopped feeding from his mother and cried day and night. Nothing Samantha did seemed to calm him and she came to me late one night and begged me to help him. I had no desire to see the child suffer and agreed, but helping him would mean harming our daughter and I refused to do it.”

  “Harm her, how?” Sandra asked.

  “He needed his sister’s blood to survive. For five years, his mother had fed him and allowed him to take her blood, but it wouldn’t quench his thirst – he was starving before our eyes.”

  “What did you do?” Sandra was dreading the answer to her question.

  “I refused. How could I let him feed on his own sister? It would make me more of a monster than he was.”

  “But you let him anyway, didn’t you?” David said accusingly.

  Mark lowered his head. “To my shame, I did, but only on the condition that after Luke fed, he would be taken away and never allowed to return. In her desperation, Samantha agreed, and that was the start of the madness that ruptured my family. She held our daughter as I made a small incision under her tiny arm. Maisie screamed as I cut into her skin. My heart shattered into a million pieces. I wondered if Luke could smell her blood because he ran down the stairs and stood at the doorway there.” Mark gestured towards the front room. “His black eyes shone as Samantha beckoned him over and he clamped his mouth over the open wound and began to gently feed on his sister’s blood. I was shocked as he was never gentle when feeding from his mother -- deep down I knew he didn’t want to hurt Maisie, but it didn’t make any of it right.”

  “The poor child. How could you?” Tears ran down Sandra’s face as she finally realized how much Maisie had suffered.

  “You’re as much a monster as her mother was.” David’s face was flushed red and the veins pulsated in his neck.

  “I know how you feel, David, but please let him finish. You need to know what happened,” Sandra said calmly.

  “I’d kill you with my bare hands if I could, Whitmore.”

  “David, if I could go back and change what I did, I would.”

  “It’s too late now. Look at what you and your wife did.” Tears streamed down David’s face as he turned and looked at Maisie.

  Sandra was worried that Maisie was silent and planning to attack, so she urged Mark to carry on with his story.

  “After Luke had fed, I ordered Samantha to dress him and be ready to take him away under cover of darkness. She protested, but I wouldn’t allow him to stay, so she did as I asked. She knew the alternative meant I would expose our crimes, so when darkness fell she loaded what little belongings he had onto the cart and took her precious son to live with her sister, Juliet, miles away, and that was the last I saw of him until a year later.”

  “Why a year later? You said you wouldn’t allow him to return. Is that when Samantha brought him back?”

  “No, Miss Miller, my wife returned the day after I sent Luke away, but he came back of his own free will. I recognized his face immediately, the same blonde hair and jet black eyes. Although he still looked like a monster, the teenager stood on my doorstep wasn’t the child I had sent away a year ago.”

  ***

  “I can’t believe what I’m hearing.” Sandra was appalled and felt like she had been sucked into a terrifying horror movie. “If you’d sent him away when he was born none of us would be standing here right now.”

  “Believe me, Miss, I know how sinful it was, and I tried to stop it. I couldn’t bear his presence and he knew it. My son wanted me to love him, but I was repulsed by every part of him. His mother worshipped the ground he walked on. When our daughter was born, Samantha was only ever cold and cruel to her, and I doubt she ever felt love for Maisie. Our son’s well-being was all consuming for my wife and that’s why she stayed, even after I made her send him away. So she could use me to conceive and aid in the birth of Maisie. Samantha would make sure our daughter played her part. I would only allow Luke to return for one night a year, and on that terrible night he’d returned home to feed and that’s when I tried to put a stop to it, once and for all.

  “What did you do?” Sandra asked.

  “I had no idea he was coming that night. Samantha would never pre-warn me of his arrival, although she always knew when he was close by. She would pick up his scent. She tried to hide it from me, but I could see it, the gentle tilt of the head and the serene look upon her face. Thoughts of Luke and what we had to do were always at the back of my mind, and some part of me always knew when he was on his way as Samantha’s sombre mood changed -- she began to smile more and her demeanour towards Maisie was different – it was an act to try and soften what we all knew was coming. That day, I noticed my wife in the front garden as I walked towards our house. By the time I had arrived at the gate, she was back inside.”

  Sandra hung on Mark’s every word as he began to relay the conversation.

  ***

  I walked into the house as my wife was coming out of the kitchen. She wiped her hands on her long skirt and smiled at me.

  “Go and wash up, Mark.” Samantha ordered. “Supper won’t be long.”

  “What were you doing in the front garden, Sam?”

  “Just dealing with one of David Price’s cats. Damn nuisances all of them,” she said as Maisie appeared and stood next to her father. “If you’re going upstairs, please can you make sure that dirty spade is put in the garden? You know I hate it when you leave it in the kitchen.”

  “I don’t know why his cats bother you so much – they’re the only company that young man seems to have.”

  “You know I’ve never liked cats – always creeping around. If he cares for them so much, he needs to make sure he keeps them inside, or one day…”

  “Oh, let’s not get into this now – I’ll have a word with him tomorrow. I’ll put the spade by the back door and when I’ve cleaned up, I’ll take it into the garden.”

  He waited for his wife to object, but she didn’t offer any further comment. Mark bent down to kiss Maisie on the cheek before heading for the washroom. “How are you my little angel?”

  “I missed you, Daddy, but I’m fine,” she said to me as I made my way to the washroom.

  “When I returned, Samantha had opened the front door and was silently waiting.”

  Chapter 44

  “Who was she waiting for?” Sandra asked Mark, startling him from his memories.

  “Our son, Luke. He appeared seconds later, and even from behind I could see the difference in my wife. She pulled him into a long hug, kissing his cheeks and telling him how much she loved and missed him. I felt angry, but sick to the pit of my stomach as none of the love she showered on him was ever shown to our daughter.”

  He glanced at the pathetic figure of his daughter and smiled sadly before continuing.

  “Samantha pulled him into the house before he was seen by any passing villagers. He spotted me immediately and smiled, saying it was good to see me. I told him I wished I could say the same as my wife put her arm around him and steered him into the living room. No matter how many times I looked at my son, his appearance always shocked me. He was only six years old at this point and – to anybody else, Luke would look like he was in his late teenage years.”

  “What happened then?” David asked.

  “Samantha told Luke to make himself comfortable and that supper wouldn’t be long. I don’t know why she said it, and
I thought it odd because she knew he could not consume the food we ate.”

  “Did you ever offer him normal food?” Sandra asked.

  “Samantha said he wouldn’t eat it, so I left her to deal with it. I only ever saw him eat raw meat and offal but he needed blood, or he would die, and whilst animal blood would keep him alive, it didn’t satisfy his needs, or allow him the strength to do much day to day. Samantha told me many times over the year, he needed Maisie’s blood to survive. She was kept up to date with letters from her sister and each time, she would read them to me. I know she was trying to make me feel something for him, but I never had and nothing would ever convince me that what I had agreed to was right. I stared at him, trying to find a shred of humanity, but there was none. The web of lies we had constructed to keep him safe would damn us all. Samantha was besotted with him and fussed around him as though he was a baby - it made me feel sick to my stomach when he told Samantha he was hungry and was looking forward to eating.”

  Sandra was repulsed, but engrossed. “God, this is too much. What was that poor child born into?” She glanced at Maisie, forgetting how twisted her soul was and only seeing her as a vulnerable little girl.

  “Do you see why I care so much for her?” David looked at Sandra. “She never asked to be brought into this madness.”

  Ignoring David entirely she looked back at Mark. “What happened then?” Sandra asked.

  “If you allow me to finish, I will tell you the rest of the story, but we don’t have much time left.”

  “It won’t be long now,” Samantha said looking towards the stairs. With a cheery voice she shouted, “Maisie, please come down, your brother has come to visit us.”

  Luke pulled the hood down from his cloak and smiled at his mother. She returned the smile adoringly and stroked his face whilst Mark drew back at what was hidden by the hood – disgusted by what he was seeing. Despite the monstrous face, both of his children were blonde with pale skin – the likeness bothered Mark more than he would ever care to admit.