The Priest Hole

by Amy Cross

Turning, I head toward the main building with a heavy heart. Before I leave, I must put the rest of his victims out of their misery, and I can only pray that God sees I am acting out of mercy. The most important thing is that Freeman is dead, and that never more shall this country be tormented by his foul crusade. He is gone forever.

  Chapter Twenty-one

  Laura

  Racing through the moonlit forest, running faster than I ever thought I could run and pushing harder than I ever thought I could push, all I can think about is Suzie trapped in the church.

  “He's coming,” I hear her voice saying. “He's here.”

  I almost run straight into several trees, but I just about manage to slip past them all and keep going. I stumble a couple of times, but I refuse to allow myself to fall and instead I race onward, desperate to get to my sister. Ahead, I can already see the night sky starting to lighten a little from black to dark blue, and finally I spot the silhouette of the church in the distance, all -

  Suddenly I trip and land hard against the forest floor, and I immediately feel a painful jolt in my arm.

  Hauling myself up, I ignore the pain and keep running, making my way past the lake until I reach the field that leads to the church.

  “Suzie!” I scream, pushing my way through the waist-high grass and then clambering over cemetery's stone wall. I race around the tombstones until I get to the church's door, which is already hanging open. As soon as I get inside, however, I come to a breathless halt as I see a figure standing further alone the aisle with his back to me. Water is dripping from his body, and in his right hand he's holding an ax.

  I freeze for a moment, terrified by the sight.

  Slowly, the figure tilts his head slightly, causing a crunching, ripping sound in his neck. Silhouetted against the stained-glass window at the church's far end, he seems perfectly calm as water continues to drip down onto the stone floor, but after a moment he turns his head slightly, allowing me to see the same profile I saw at the house when I witnessed the Baxendale family being butchered.

  It's him.

  It's Nykolas Freeman.

  Somehow, four hundred years later, he's still here.

  He turns a little more, having clearly heard that I'm here, and now I can see that his flesh is withered and rotten. Something seems to be moving just below his ear, and a moment later a worm wriggles out and drops onto his shoulder.

  I open my mouth to call out to Suzie, but I quickly remind myself that I shouldn't let Freeman know that she's here. After all, hopefully she's managed to hide away and -

  Suddenly Freeman starts to turn, his whole body sounding stiff and torn as he faces me.

  “You're not real,” I whisper, wide-eyed with shock.

  “The witch returns,” he replies, his voice sounding much harsher than before. A couple more maggots drop out from the corner of his mouth, followed a moment later by two fat white beetle larvae. “I always knew that you would come back to me eventually.”

  “I'm not a witch,” I stammer, looking down at the ax in his hand. “But you're not... How are you here? How is this happening?”

  “God wishes me to continue my work!” he hisses. “Tell me, is King James still on the throne? What of the Catholics? Have then been driven from the land?”

  Shaking my head, I take a step back, my mind spinning as I try to work out what's happening. It's as if my dreams have suddenly crashed through into the real world, unless...

  Unless this isn't a dream.

  He's really here.

  “When I pulled the cage up,” he continues, taking an unsteady, lumbering step toward me, “I expected to find your bloody, drowned corpse waiting for me. The fact that you were gone, with the door still shut, was...” He pauses, and then slowly a smile crosses his rotten lips. “A surprise.”

  “That didn't happen!” I shout. “That was all a dream, or a hallucination or something! It wasn't real!”

  “Of all the witches I dispatched,” he replies, taking another step closer, “you were the only one who ever got away from me in death. All the others, I was able to feed to my pigs or leave to rot in the water, or hang on hillsides as a warning to others. In all my time, you were the only one who ever slipped from my grasp.”

  “I'm not a witch,” I tell him again, taking another step back.

  “Yet at first,” he replies, “only the Baxendale child could see you.”

  “I can't explain that,” I continue, stepping behind one of the pews. “I don't know what's happening, I don't know why I saw those things...”

  “And all of this,” he adds, “because of one priest, one filthy seminary Catholic who led me to the Baxendale house that night. I had the place torn apart beam by beam, I had my best carpenters go over it for days but still they couldn't find where the priest was hiding. They found priest holes, of course, and plenty of them, but they were all empty. I know the priest was in there at one point, but...” He pauses, before looking back toward the altar. “He was there, though, yet now he is here, as if he sensed that I was returning and wanted, this time, not to draw me to another family. It's as if his corpse crawled from the priest hole in the Baxendale house and walked to this very church, hoping to hide anew.”

  “You can't be here,” I whisper, making my way around the pew, still trying to work out what I'm really seeing. “You're dead...”

  “I hear sniveling,” he replies, looking toward the altar. “There is someone else hiding in this place, someone other than the priest.”

  Realizing that he must mean Suzie, I look around for something I might be able to use as a weapon.

  “I always said,” he continues, “that no priest would ever get away from me. Darian Kinner was almost the exception, I was cut down and betrayed by a heretic before I got the chance to come after him again, but God has seen fit to give me this one final chance.” He takes a couple of faltering steps forward, making his way toward the steps that lead to the altar. “I will take this church apart and find the priest,” he whispers, “and then I will deal with any other matters that demand my attention. It occurs to me that while I have been sleeping, much degeneracy and harlotry has come to strike my dear England. It is clear that I am needed once again. God himself has commanded my return!”

  “You're not needed!” I shout as he makes his way toward the altar. “You were never needed! No-one in the world needs a monster like you!”

  “Spoken like a true witch,” he replies, not even looking at me as he stops and looks around. “I am closer to the sniveling.”

  “You don't know what you're talking about,” I stammer, making my way past the pews until I'm on the other side of the steps. “You can't be real. You're another hallucination, this is some kind of dream. Maybe...” I feel a cold shiver pass through my body as I realize that I might be seriously ill. “Maybe I have a brain tumor! I'm imagining all of this!”

  “It sounds like a child,” he mutters. “A child is hiding from me, along with the priest.”

  I open my mouth to reply, but suddenly I realize that he's right. In the silence of the church, there's now only one sound to be heard: the sound of a little girl sobbing somewhere nearby.

  Suzie.

  “That is no priest,” Freeman continues, turning to look over at the far side of the altar. “Still, anyone I find in this church will be subjected to my usual measures. If the child is not a witch, she need not fear. The Lord will protect her.”

  “No!” I shout, taking a step toward him. “Leave her alone!”

  “Laura!” Suzie cries out from further back in the church. “Where are you?”

  “It's okay!” I shout. “Just stay hidden!”

  “Stay hidden?” Freeman replies, turning to me with a grin. “Why, it sounds to me as if you would enter into a conspiracy with the child.”

  “That's my sister,” I say firmly, even though the sight of this monster is enough to fill me with panic. “If you go anywhere near her, I swear I'll make you pay.”

  “Sister?” He smi
les. “Then she must be another witch, must she not? After all, these things run in bloodlines.”

  Turning, he starts making his way past the altar, with the ax still in his hand.

  “Stop!” I shout, hurrying after him, almost slipping on the trail of water that he's leaving in his wake. “You can't do anything to her!” I point out, desperate to make him stop. “You haven't even finished with me yet! Surely you should deal with one witch before you move on to the next?”

  “You will wait,” he replies, not even looking back at me as he heads toward the door to the office. “I must find the priest first. He has hidden from me long enough.”

  “What's wrong?” I ask, trying to play for time even though I have no idea how to stop him. All I can think right now is that I have to keep him out of the office and away from Suzie. I might not have been able to help Jessica, but there's no way I'm going to let my sister down. “Are you scared of me?” I continue, hoping to distract him. “After all, I'm a witch, aren't I?”

  “Of limited power.”

  Spotting a light switch on the wall near the altar, I figure I need to do something else to grab his attention.

  “If I've only got limited power,” I tell him, stepping over to the wall, “how am I able to do this?”

  I flick the switch, and a moment later a set of lights flicker into life nearby, illuminating the corridor that leads to the office. Freeman stops immediately, looking up at the electric bulbs as if they're the most wondrous things he's ever seen.

  “You summon spirits?” Freeman replies, turning to me with shock in his eyes. “You bring light to darkness?”

  “I could explain how it works,” I tell him, taking a step back, “but I really don't think you'd understand. It's kind of a form of modern witchcraft, really. I'm nothing special, though. Everyone can do stuff like this now.”

  “Everyone?” There's anger in his eyes now. “Then I see there are many witches who must face justice at my hands. Tell me, are there no good men left to rid the world of such sorcery?”

  “To be honest,” I reply, “witchcraft is kind of popular nowadays. You'd be surprised, everyone's getting into it.”

  “You lie!” he hisses. “My England has not fallen so low!”

  “Why don't you follow me outside?” I ask, hoping to lure him away from the church and away from my sister, “and then I can -”

  “Satan is behind this!” he shouts, stumbling toward me with his ax raised. “Satan has won the world and rules my fair England! I will not allow it!”

  I duck out of the way as he swings the ax at me. He strikes one of the wooden pews, and it takes a moment for him to pull the ax out. Turning to me, he limps closer.

  “I fought all my life for a just and fair England,” he sneers, “and to destroy false religions and witchcraft wherever I found them. I was working in the name of God and King James, and now I see that there was no-one to take up that work after I was so unfairly felled. Fortunately, the Lord has seen fit to raise me from the dead so that I might resume my efforts.” He lunges at me again, swinging the ax wildly but missing me by a couple of inches as I step back. “The task ahead of me is great indeed,” he continues, “but I am ready to deliver. By the time I am done, witchcraft will have been banished and every Catholic will be rotting in the ground!”

  “Let's just get you out of here first,” I stammer, still clinging to the hope that this is some kind of dream. I back away from him, hoping to lead him toward the main door. “There's no -”

  He swings the ax at me yet again, and this time I can't pull back in time. The blade slices across my arm, causing me to cry out as I step back.

  “Laura!” Suzie screams suddenly, from the far end of the church. “Help me!”

  Freeman immediately turns, and after a moment he starts limping back along the aisle, heading past the altar and toward the door to the office.

  “No!” I shout, hurrying after him as I clutch the wound on my arm. “Leave her alone! She's done nothing to you, you don't care about her!”

  “She must be with the priest,” he replies, raising his ax as he gets close to the door. Slamming the blade into the plaster, he rips part of the wall away and then immediately gets to work on the next section. “That Catholic monster has been hiding from me for four hundred years!” he shouts, working frantically. “Today will be the day I finally haul his miserable body out and make him suffer!”

  “Stop!” I scream, watching in horror as he drives the ax through a wooden panel next to the door. He pulls the wood away, but he's already starting work on another section, and he could find Suzie at any moment. I have no idea where she's hiding, so every time his ax strikes another part of the wall, I'm filled with horror at the thought she might be in there.

  “Laura!” she shouts suddenly, clearly very close. “What's happening?”

  “She's in one of the priest holes!” Freeman sneers, attacking another part of the wall and using his ax to smash hole after hole into different sections of plaster. If he happens to hit the section where Suzie's hiding, he'll cut right through her. “I will take this place apart the way I took apart the Baxendale house,” he continues, “and I will deal with anyone I find!” He raises his ax again and then slams it into the wall, and this time I hear Suzie's pained cry from the other side.

  “Stop!” I scream.

  “I have her!” he shouts, raising the ax again, ready to strike.

  “Stop!” I shout again, grabbing the head of the ax and twisting it out of his grip, “you don't!”

  I pull the ax away and take a step back. He turns to me, but I've already got the handle in my grasp.

  “If you are any indicator of how England has changed during the past four hundred years,” he says darkly, stepping toward me, “then it is clear that I am going to be very busy indeed.”

  “No,” I reply, realizing that whether or not he's a dream or a hallucination, I have to fight back, “you're not going to be busy at all.” Feeling a sudden sense of strength, I step closer and raise the ax. “Don't worry, though,” I tell him, “if God thinks you're a good man, I'm sure he'll stop me.”

  With that, I swing the ax down, slicing straight through his chest. He cries out and lunges at me, but I quickly swing the ax again, this time striking him on the neck and cutting straight though, taking his head off and sending it crunching down to the ground. I stare in horror for a moment at the stump of his neck, and then I spot movement nearby and see that he's raising his hands toward me. Filled with panic, I swing the ax at him again and again, hacking away at his body and cutting parts away with each strike. He still reaches out for me, but I chop his arms off at the shoulder and then I close my eyes and keep hacking away until I take a step back and open my eyes again, only to see that the severed parts of his rotten body are all around me on the floor.

  When I look at his head, I see several maggots crawling out from his mouth. A moment later, however, he blinks, and I instinctively swing the ax down one final time, cutting the head in two and then dropping back, shocked by what I've done.

  The church falls silent for a moment, until I hear the sound of Suzie crying nearby.

  Stumbling to my feet, I hurry past the remains of Freeman's body and start running my hands across the wall, trying to find her. After a moment, I see that a single bead of blood is running from one of the holes that was made by Freeman's ax.

  “Suzie!”

  I start desperately pulling the plaster away with my bare hands until finally I find her curled up in a narrow space. There's a faint scratch on her cheek, as if the ax only slightly brushed against her, but I can see the fear in her tearful eyes. Before I can reach in for her, however, I see to my horror that there's a second figure next to her, a skeletal form with its head twisted back and its mouth slightly open.

  When I look down further, I see that the figure is holding Suzie's hand as she trembles and sobs.

  “It's him,” she tells me, her voice trembling with fear. “It's the man I saw walk
ing out of the house.”

  “It's okay,” I whisper, filled with shock as I reach in and pull her out. Holding her as tight as I can, I look back at the skeleton that was hidden with her in the wall. After a moment, I spot a small leather book at its feet, and I realize that it's the same prayerbook I saw the priest using back at the house. He must have been hidden in a priest hole at the house all this time, but I guess when he realized Freeman was coming back, he left because he didn't want anyone else to die for him. That's why Suzie saw him walking through the forest, and somehow he ended up hiding here instead.

  Turning, I carry Suzie past the remains of Nykolas Freeman and along the aisle, and then out to the front door, where we finally emerge to find that the sun is rising in the distance, bringing light to the English countryside.

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Daniel

  “Is it done?”

  Sitting with my back to the cemetery wall, I allow myself the faintest smile as soon as I hear her voice. I've been waiting for several hours now, preparing for the long walk back to London, and when I turn and look toward the church I see Kate standing nearby. Deep down, I was hoping she would come to me again.

  “Is it?” she asks.

  I nod.

  “Are you sure? Are you really sure?”

  “I pierced his heart,” I tell her, “and I threw his corpse into the river, where some of his victims were able to drag him down. I waited to make sure he didn't come back up, and he didn't. He's dead.”

  “And you had the coin with you?”

  “All the way through. I don't have it now, though. I felt as if it was burning a hole in my hand, so I tossed it away down by the lake. Does that matter?”

  “Not now that the deed is done,” she replies, coming closer and kneeling next to me. “Its job was to bind your bloodline to the killing of Nykolas Freeman, and it seems that task was achieved. And you used his own weapon against him?”

  “More or less.”

  She frowns. “What do you mean?”