The Horror of Briarwych Church

by Amy Cross

  Chapter Four

  Kerry

  “Hey, stop!” Mark hisses again as I step through the doorway and into the darkness. “You can't seriously be going in there!”

  It's so cold in this church, colder even than it was outside. I'm wearing a jacket and I'm still almost shivering. Stopping for a moment, I stare straight ahead and squint slightly, but I swear I can't see anything at all. There's not even a hint of light. I've never been anywhere so completely dark before, and I feel as if I really, really shouldn't be here. It's as if the darkness is pushing back at me.

  There's also a stale, fusty smell in the freezing damp air, and mixed in with that smell there's also a hint of something else, something I recognize. Burned petrol, maybe, or something similar.

  I should leave. I don't know how I know that, but I do. I should not be here.

  “Kerry, we have to go home now,” Mark whines. “We're not allowed to be in here. This is a really bad idea.”

  Turning, I see his silhouette as he waits just outside the door. As much as I want to leave, there's no way I'm going to give him the satisfaction.

  “So are you coming,” I ask, “or are you an even bigger chicken than I thought?”

  “Grow up,” he replies. “How did you even open this thing, anyway?”

  “It was open when I came back around.”

  “How did -”

  “Obviously I did something when I was using the knife,” I point out, in case his painfully slow brain can't quite figure things out. “I unlocked it without realizing, and then a gust of wind must have blown it open. Neat, huh? I've spent time on the streets, I know how to hustle.”

  “I don't like this,” he replies.

  “So I was right, you are a chicken.”

  “I'm not scared!” he says firmly, although I can hear the truth in his voice. He sounds cautious to say the least, and I'm pretty sure he's on the verge of pissing himself with fear. He's such a wimp. “I just don't see the point of being here! It's a dusty old church. What exactly are you expecting to find that's worth going in there?”

  “Then wait outside or go back to the house,” I reply, turning and stepping forward into the icy interior of the church. “I won't dob on you, I promise.”

  To be honest, it's way colder in here than I ever expected, and the darkness is really freaky. I'm not really sure that it's worth looking around, at least not at night, and I can still feel the icy darkness pushing against me. There's no way I'm going to back down, though, not after everything I just said to Mark. So I take a few more steps forward, and finally I spot a hint of moonlight against some large, high windows in the distance. I go over to take a closer look, only to bump straight into a stone wall.

  Taking out my phone, I bring up the flashlight app and switch it on, and then I cast the beam around.

  Spotting an open doorway, I head over and peer through. As I cast the flashlight's beam across the room, I realize that this looks like some kind of old office. I never knew that churches had offices, but I guess vicars need somewhere to get all their shit done. Making my way across the room, I see dust floating through the beam of light. I reckon no-one's been in here for a long time, and when I get to the desk I see that several sheets of old paper have been left scattered around, along with a couple that have been scrunched into balls and let in place.

  I peer down at the papers, but the writing is totally faded. Maybe some old vicar used to sit here and write his boring sermons.

  Next to the desk there's an old leather bag. I pick it up and set it on the desk, and then I start going through the various sections.

  “What are you doing?” Mark asks from the doorway.

  “Seeing if there's anything worth taking.”

  “You can't steal from a church.”

  “I don't think anyone's coming back for this shit,” I point out, before turning the bag around and seeing that there's something engraved on a small gold buckle. “It's been abandoned.”

  I lean closer and squint as I try to read the words.

  “Father L. Loveford,” I whisper. “Huh. I wonder why Father L. Loveford didn't take his bag with him when he left? I guess he must've been in too much of a hurry. Still, cool name.”

  I take a look through the rest of the bag's pockets, only to find that they're empty, before hauling it over my shoulder and heading back toward the doorway.

  “Outta my way, loser,” I say to Mark, and then I intentionally bump against him as I head back out into the corridor. “Finders keepers.”

  “Kerry, I -”

  “You're officially starting to bore me,” I tell him, and now I actually am starting to wish that he'd go away and leave me to explore this place alone. This church is way too cool for idiots like Mark to ruin. “You're just jealous that I'm the one who got us in here. Or is it the bag? Did you fancy a man-bag, Mark?”

  Reaching an arched doorway, I aim my flashlight through to see what's next.

  “Neat,” I whisper, as I see the backs of wooden pews stretching way out before me. Most of them are badly damaged, as if they were attacked with something. After a moment, I realize that they actually look as if they were burned a long time ago. I guess maybe that's where part of the stench is coming from.

  I'm in the main part of the church, whatever that's called. It's pretty big, with a high ceiling and huge stained-glass windows on either side. There's an aisle down the middle of the place, between the burned pews on either side, and at the far end there's a kind of raised platform section that I guess must be the altar. Churches are weird. I don't remember the last time I was in one; in fact, now I think about it, I don't even know that I have been in one. Maybe as a kid, if I was baptized and all that shit. Churchyards have always been fun places to get up to stuff at night, but churches themselves have never really caught my attention before tonight.

  Still, as I wander along the aisle between the burned pews, casting the light from my phone around, I've got to admit that this place is pretty cool. You could have a hell of a party in here.

  “Kerry!”

  Stopping, I aim the flashlight straight back at Mark. He's way behind me, in the archway that leads out into the entrance corridor, and I smile as he holds a hand up to shield his eyes. I try to aim the beam better, to really blind him.

  “Come on,” he continues, “this place is a dump. There's blatantly nothing here!”

  “I know!” I call back to him, and I notice this time that my voice echoes slightly. “Cool!”

  “But if -”

  “Cool!” I yell, and sure enough my voice bounces around for a few seconds high above us. “Did you hear that?”

  “Kerry -”

  “Echo!” I shout.

  “Echo!” my voice replies all around us. “Echo! Echo! Echo!”

  “Fuck!” I shout.

  “Fuck! Fuck! Fuck!”

  “Not gonna join in?” I ask, turning to Mark again.

  “I don't like it in here,” he says, sounding more than a little stressed. “Can't you feel it?”

  “Feel what?”

  “It's in the air all around. Something's not right here. It's like my skin's starting to crawl.”

  “If you don't want to be here,” I reply, “then don't be. Jog on, and let me have my fun. You're just a pussy.”

  Turning, I head along the aisle until I reach the altar. I think the big stone table thing is the actual altar, so I haul myself up and sit on the edge. I set the old leather bag over my shoulder and I start swinging my legs, as I aim the flashlight down and see that there are some dusty old words carved into the altar's top section.

  “What the fuck does that say?” I mutter, trying to pick out some of the words before giving up. I guess it's just some old nonsense that someone gave a shit about once. Maybe it's Latin.

  “You shouldn't sit on that,” Mark says from the distant archway.

  “Are you still here?” I ask, looking over toward the far side of the altar. It's so cold in here now, my teeth are real
ly starting to chatter. I swear it suddenly got much colder over the past few seconds.

  “You're being disrespectful,” Mark calls out.

  “So? You're a pussy.” I smile. “Pussy!”

  My voice echoes.

  “Pussy! Pussy! Pussy!”

  “Stop!” Mark shouts, and his voice echoes too.

  “Since when did you care?” I whisper, rolling my eyes. I look at the letters for a moment longer, and then I turn and aim the flashlight at the area behind the altar. “I'm not -”

  Suddenly I freeze as I see that there's a woman standing right behind me, wearing a black dress and staring straight at me with angry eyes.

  Before I can pull away, she reaches out and grabs the side of my face. Her hand is icy and her grip is firm, and when I try to cry out I feel as if my jaw is frozen. All I can manage is a very faint, gasping whimper as the woman slowly leans closer to me.

  The entire left side of my face is so cold now, and the pain is intense, as the woman slowly turns my head until I'm looking back along the aisle. At the same time, my trembling hands drop the phone onto the top of the altar. The beam is blasting back toward the burned pews, and I can just about see Mark over in the archway.

  “Please,” I try to whisper, as tears run down my cheeks and the pain intensifies, “help me. Please help me, please...”

  The woman leans over my shoulder, staring directly into my eyes.

  “What are you doing here?” she asks, her voice filled with hatred. “What do you want in my church?”

  Chapter Five

  Mark

  “What did you say?” I ask, sighing as I try to hear Kerry. “Why don't you come over here and we can leave, okay? This place is really giving me the creeps.”

  I wait, but she's still sitting there on the altar. A moment ago she tossed her phone down, and now the light is shining out across the damaged pews. I can barely see Kerry at all, but she seems to be sitting bolt upright and she hasn't yelled at me for a couple of minutes now, which is something of a record. I think she's talking, though. I can hear some kind of whisper coming from over there, but I can't make out any of the words. Typical. This is the moment she chooses to stop being loud.

  “Okay, I'm out of here,” I say, turning to leave. At the last moment, however, I stop and look back at her. I was hoping to call her bluff, but she's still up there on the altar.

  No matter how much I want to get out of here, it wouldn't be right to just leave her here. She might be a pain in the ass, but I'd feel bad if she ended up getting hypothermia, so finally I sigh as I start making my way toward her along the aisle. As I walk, I have to hold a hand up in front of my eyes, to protect myself from the beam of that flashlight. I swear, I'm so mad at her right now, I'm going to really have to hold back so that I don't call her all the bad names under the sun.

  I can definitely hear her talking up ahead, but she's kind of whispering and I can't quite make out the words. Maybe this is part of some stupid game.

  “Okay, fine,” I say finally as I get to the far end of the aisle and lower my hand. The light isn't so dazzling now. “What gives? What do you want?”

  I wait, but she's just sitting there all alone on the altar with a really strange expression on her face, almost like she's terrified. She has her head tilted to the right and she's staring at me, and after a moment I realize that there seem to be tears running down her cheeks.

  “What the hell?” I whisper, stepping closer and noticing that it's much colder here, colder even than the aisle. “Kerry, what's got into you?”

  “Why are you here?” she gasps, her voice shaking so badly that I can barely even make out what she's saying. “What are you doing here in my church?”

  “What am I doing here?” I reply. “In your church?”

  I wait for her to follow up with some lame joke, but after a moment I realize that her whole body seems to be trembling violently.

  “I don't know why I'm here,” I tell her, starting to feel majorly exasperated that she's keeping us here. “I guess I just didn't want you to go wandering around in the dark all by yourself. I guess maybe, just maybe, I'm a gentleman. Did you consider that? Maybe I'm not a complete asshole who runs off and abandons people. But you have to come with me now, yeah? We're getting out of this stupid church.”

  Again I wait, and again she simply stares at me.

  Her bottom lip is wobbling and more tears are rolling down her cheeks. I've got to admit, she's doing a really good job of acting like she's scared. Maybe she could be an actor one day.

  “Why did you come?” she stammers finally. “You... You have no right to be here.”

  “No right to be here?” I raise a skeptical eyebrow. “That's rich, coming from the one who broke the lock. Now let's go!”

  “You should not have tried to enter this place,” she continues, tilting her head a little more and letting out a faint gasp that sounds almost painful. “This... This church is not... for you.”

  “Huh?”

  I wait, but now she just seems to have gone bat-shit crazy.

  “We're done here, okay?” I say finally, stepping closer to her and reaching out to grab her and pull her off the altar. “I've had more than enough of your rubbish and I'm freezing to death and -”

  As soon as I touch her icy hand, she cries out and falls forward, landing against me. Startled, I fumble to keep her from falling all the way off the altar, but then she slithers down and her knees buckle. All I can do is keep hold of the sides of her arms and lower her down, and I'm actually starting to think that she's fainted or something like that. Unless this really is just one of her stupid jokes and she's taking it way too far.

  “Hey, are you alright?” I ask, crouching next to her as she slumps back against the front of the altar. “What the hell were you just on about there?”

  She turns to me, with that same horrified look in her eyes, and for a moment she seems frozen in place.

  “Okay, you win,” I continue. “You've freaked me out. Well done. Now can we please get out of here?”

  “She...”

  I wait, but her voice trails off.

  “What?” I ask. “Come on, this is boring.”

  “Did you....”

  Again I wait.

  “Did I what?” I say with a sigh. “Can you just get on with it, so we can leave?”

  “But she...”

  She pauses, and then slowly she looks up toward the edge of the altar above us. For a moment, her eyes seem genuinely filled with fear.

  “She...”

  Suddenly she scrambles to her feet and backs away until she bumps against one of the pews. She's not looking at me, however; instead, she seems to be staring straight at the altar.

  “Kerry?” I continue, still kneeling on the hard floor. “What -”

  “Didn't you see her?” she gasps. “Tell me you saw her! You must have seen her!”

  “What's that smell?” I ask, sniffing the air and then noticing some kind of liquid dribbling down from the top of the altar. There's more on the ground too, with little drops and sprinkles running all the way over to where Kerry's standing. “Dude,” I say cautiously, “please tell me you didn't just pee your pants.”

  “She was right there!” she says, pointing at the altar. She's still crying. “You saw her! You must have seen her!”

  “I didn't see anything except you, acting the fool,” I reply, getting to my feet and then turning to look at the altar. Picking up Kerry's phone, I shine the beam of light around, but all I see is stone walls. “I'm really not in the mood for one of your lame practical jokes. And if you think you're gonna scare me, you should just save yourself the effort.”

  “Didn't you hear her?” Kerry asks.

  Turning, I see that she's touching the left side of her face, as if she's in pain.

  “Hear who?” I reply.

  “She was talking to you! First she was talking to me, then when you came up here she started talking to you too!”

  “What?�
�� I ask with a scowl. “There was nobody talking to me except you, and you were being really weird.”

  “She asked why we were here,” she stammers.

  “Huh?” I step toward her, carefully avoiding the patches of what I'm pretty sure is pee. “You were talking to me, Kerry,” I remind her. “You were asking me all these stupid-ass questions and telling me that I've got no right to be in this church.”

  “No, she was saying that,” she sobs. “She was holding my head. She was right next to me and she was talking to both of us!”

  “What?”

  I wait for her to burst out laughing, but she really seems to be taking this prank too far. I'll give her credit for her commitment, but she needs to learn when enough's enough.

  “Okay,” I say with a heavy sigh, “you know what? I'm officially too cold and tired for this -”

  Suddenly she turns and runs, racing back along the aisle with the leather bag over her shoulder, and then finally she disappears out into the corridor. I can hear her footsteps until she gets outside, and then for a moment I hear the sound of her running at full whack through the overgrown cemetery.

  “Excuse me?” I ask out loud, shocked that she suddenly took off like that. “Seriously? I follow you into this creepy-ass church and I wait around for you in the freezing cold, and then you just take off on me?”

  I wait, but she's long gone and I can't help but think that she's taking this so-called joke and really running with it. Looking down at the patch of liquid on the altar, I lean a little closer, to prove to myself that it's just water, but then I recoil as I realize that it's actually, genuinely pee. Either this girl is completely crazy, crazier than I ever imagined, or she just literally peed herself in order to go all-in with a joke.

  “Gross,” I mutter.

  For a moment, I cast the phone's flashlight beam around, but of course there's no sign of anyone else here. All I see are the church's stone walls, although after a few seconds I notice that there are some dark patches in some areas, as if there was once some kind of fire here. I guess that'd line up with the damage to the pews, which look like they were on fire at some point. In fact, I'm starting to really get the feeling that some weird shit once went down in this church, which maybe explains why I feel so uneasy right now. This place isn't exactly very welcoming.