by Dean Jones
They needed a monster to fear so they could look at their own lives and accept the way things were, after all, there were men like Seth Goodman around they'd say! She was doing the world a service and people like Seth would be the sacrificial lambs to ensure she maintained her reputation for getting the stories from the most dangerous of people face to face.
"What did you do to them Seth, how did you scare three boys so much they refused to speak about what had happened until years later?"
Reason and logic were leaving him, how could anyone accuse him of such things? His family are everything to him if only she knew what he'd been through, the pain he felt when she was taken from him all those years ago, a pain which took so long to subside. How could he tell her how much he been through while he waited for her to return, waiting to hold her once more. This woman didn’t care about the truth, he knew that now.
No, she will not get away with her lies...he thought.
"There are things in this world you would not understand Nicola, things which give strength to those who comprehend and respect the power they bring. These things give the one who wields them the chance to provide balance, to give back what was taken but also to take what was given and punish those who would do harm." He intended to sound calm, but each word came in a growl.
"And what are these things you speak of? Are they weapons of some sort? "
Seth laughed, if only she could see what he could see, witnessed what he had in the centuries he had lived.
"Do you find this amusing Seth? three boys attacked and left for dead, one so terrified he cannot speak of the things you did and is spending his remaining years in a psychiatric hospital, what are you hiding?” she demanded “I will find out, one way or another, it's better if you take this chance to put your own words into my story…" Well, she would use his words just not in the order he said them!
"The world was made from a power greater than any of the man-made toys being used to cause destruction and death!" There, that should make her think...maybe. What was he doing? This was going all wrong.
"Power, what power, some kind of magic?"
"if you want to call it that, or universal energy… both need the practitioner to fully focus on the art they use." It was a simple statement and a fact.
"You used this power on those men?"
Seth could see where she was going with this, but he couldn't hold back.
“I defended the one I love with whatever tools I had at my disposal," he lifted his hands in front of him, offering her the proof of the tools he meant.
“And how do you explain the silence, over ten years and these men are still quailing at the thought of you. Your hands are soiled in their blood Seth and it is you who are to be held accountable. I only want the truth, is this not the least these poor men deserve?”
Seth held back his fury, those men deserved a lot more than he did to them, he was far too merciful after their attack and he was now paying the price for his error.
"This was a mistake," Seth managed to say, "the interview is over!"
He rose to his feet, pushing his chair back with a scrape across the cafe floor. Only then did she notice the silence, the cafe was busy, but no one was making a sound, it was like the whole room was collectively holding its breath. Nicola looked in amazement as this man who seemed so self-assured, perhaps arrogant, stood up in front of her.
Until now she had been pretty much ignoring everything he said, it was a means to an end this interview but when she'd asked him about the Gary and his friends he seemed to glow, he was different somehow as if he was something more than he was before. She couldn't put her finger on what it was but in comparison to now, the man she sat down with was just an empty husk.
Nicola was struggling to collect herself, she still had many questions, avenues to manipulate him down to try and get him to say what she wanted. No, needed him to say but no matter how much she tried to ask them she couldn't form the words, what was happening she had never been lost for words before?
She tried to think, he was leaving, and she hadn't finished with her interview. She grasped at the questions and scenarios in her mind, but they slid away like water through her fingers, all she could see was him and nothing else mattered it was almost as though she could feel something from him...what was it? It was like suddenly, there was...electricity! That was it, the tingle of static all around her, it was strange but with it, there was something else.
In a blink, he was gone, and only then did she look around the cafe they had been sat in. She was feeling slightly dazed but the crackle around her remained and she noticed all the people were looking to the door where Seth had seconds before walked through and they were all stunned. Every single person held a look which she knew was all over her own face.
She had to find out more and she needed to get his attention to force him to sit with her again and even though she knew how to get the attention she wanted. Deep inside she understood what she was about to do was wrong, more wrong than anything she had done before but she couldn't let the story get away from her and, after all, it was a small sacrifice he would be making to further her career.
She took out her mobile phone and called Brian.
Like Father, Like Daughter
Seth walked into the kitchen and opened the door into the garden. As he watched his daughter sitting quietly he could see she was trying to focus herself he sighed heavily.
Marcy was drying the dishes from lunch and looked over at her husband as he took deep breaths and knew what he was thinking and put down her tea towel and moved to him.
Seth felt Marcy’s arms reach around his waist and he smiled as his wife placed her cheek against his back, lifting his hands to take hers.
“Do you think I’m doing the right thing love?” Seth asked still watching Hope, who was now running towards the tree at the bottom of their garden.
“Of course, you are, she needs to learn how to deal with the gifts she has and you teaching her is the best way for her to understand the responsibility these gifts bring.” She lifted her head and turned Seth around to face her.
“But these gifts have led to so many problems, all the running and hiding…I don’t want our daughter to go through what I have. I want her…I want you both to be happy.” Seth’s eyes met hers and she could see the sorrow in them.
“You carry these gifts like a weight about your shoulders Seth. I know you constantly blame yourself for all that’s happened in your life but it’s not your fault!” she stroked his face lovingly.
“I can tell you I am happy, Hope is happy. You don’t need to beat yourself up over this, you have done nothing wrong and believe me if I could get to that woman I would not be as restrained as you were.”
It had been over twelve months since Seth had met with Nicola Stuart, the journalist, and following the meeting he had told Marcy what had happened and how he had lost his temper before storming out. He knew she wasn’t going to leave them alone and even though it was a long shot he felt he had let his wife and daughter down.
Since the meeting, Nicola had managed to get stories printed about Seth in several local newspapers before finally locating them in Grimsby, when a resident of the town recognised them in a paper they had picked up on their holidays in Cornwall. It hadn’t taken long for news crews to start appearing in the town and asking questions. First on the scene, as ever, was Nicola herself.
Fortunately, Seth had been pre-warned about the arrival and had left twenty-four hours earlier, having packed all their things into their car and heading west.
He knew, and so did his wife, that they were on borrowed time as sooner or later no matter how careful they were someone would stumble across an article she had written with a picture of his face or descriptions of Marcy and Hope.
They had left their idyllic life at their farm not long after Nicola had started to write stories linking him to the events in Cornwall all those years ago. Mud stuck, and Hope began getting teased at school. Then she turne
d up and tried to interview Hopes headmistress and Seth knew it was time to find somewhere else. They had been running ever since and Nicola had become better at finding them. Her stories were so prevalent in the press that they had become recognisable and people would point at them in supermarkets or on days out.
It wasn't long after that Brian and his cronies also started hunting them and they were constantly looking over their shoulders and becoming more reclusive.
Seth sighed again and gave a little smile before placing a kiss on Marcy’s lips and pulling her close. “This isn’t the life I imagined for us my love, I am sorry,” he whispered into her ear before turning away and heading towards Hope.
Marcy watched him walk away and a tear trickled down her cheek. She loved Seth, truly loved him and felt every bit of sorrow her husband had when he held her close. It amazed her that so much pain could be held inside one man and yet his capacity for joy was never diminished and he always made them laugh when they needed it or provided comfort when they were down. And yet as she watched him crouching down next to their daughter she couldn’t help but feel like it was she who was letting him down as she couldn’t find the words to help him.
“It’s time for our lesson Sweetie,” Seth said as he crouched down next to Hope.
“Excellent, what will we be learning today daddy?” she asked excitedly.
“Today I will be introducing you to the Mara, my angel, you have mastered the lower spiritual entities and now is the time for you to meet them…they are very much looking forward to speaking with you.”
Hopes eyes were wide and filled with a mixture of excitement and awe, “really?”
“Yes, now you need to relax and control your breathing as I have taught you, let the others show you the way but be warned your spirit friends will not want to be in the presence of the Mara so do not force them.”
Hope closed her eyes as her father did the same. Seth concentrated on providing a protective energy around them to ensure a safe meeting with the Mara. Though he wasn’t concerned the Mara would be tempted to do Hope any harm he was just aware they were not the only energies in the plain and he didn’t want any unwanted visitors.
Marcy watched as the air around Seth and Hope seemed to thicken and obscure their forms and she heard a silence creep up the garden towards her as she slowly closed the door.
“Hello, Little Mistress, we have been waiting a very long time to meet you.”
The Zealots Story
Brian was enjoying his breakfast as Shelia brought over his cup of tea and placed it on the table in front of him. As she left she ran her fingers through his hair and blew him a kiss as he looked up from his newspaper.
They had been married for ten years and he still felt like the same spotty seventeen-year-old she rescued from a life of gaming and nerdy pastimes. She was everything he had ever wanted but never believed he would have.
A loud noise broke his contemplation and tumbling through the kitchen door came two bodies, a mess of arms and legs fighting over what looked like a jumper.
“Whoa there boys!” He called, and they immediately stopped tugging and kicking to look at their father who was looking at them sternly from the end of the table.
“What’s the problem here? You know your mum doesn’t like you to fight in the house?” The boys, twins, both nodded in unison.
“So?” Brian asked.
“It was Fred’s fault Dad, he took my jumper from the drawer and won't give it back!” Fred looked incredulous.
“It’s my jumper and you know it, Steven!” Fred said accusingly.
“Anyway,” he continued, “if you would let me show you it has my initials in it.” He gave an almighty tug of the jumper in question and Steven released it and smiled as his brother fell backwards into the chair.
Brian shook his head and held out his hand to Fred for the jumper. Fred, having regained his balance, scowled at Steven and handed the jumper to his dad.
“You are both very intelligent children lads, surely fighting over clothing is something you’ve grown out of after all you are twelve years old!” He looked in the jumper to locate the tab and saw the initials FW crossed out and SW added in Stevens handwriting next to them. He smiled to himself and looked up to Steven, who was also smiling now knowing his dad had seen what he had done.
“Well, Steven Wilson, it appears the jumper has your initials inside it.” He said and looked from Fred to Steven. Fred had a look of astonishment on his face.
“I was sure it was mine Dad,” he started but Brian raised his hand to stop him.
“It is yours son, your brother, thinking himself very clever, has crossed out your initials and added his own.”
Steven was now the one who looked gobsmacked, “Dad, that’s not true, Mum added my initials as she thought the jumper suited me better.”
Brian loved his children very much, they were the apples of his eye and this type of interaction was one of the main reasons. He loved their negotiations and slippery excuses to try and manipulate the situation to their benefit.
He coughed slightly and nodded to the left towards where their mum was stood watching the events unfold. She now had her hands on her hips and was looking particularly cross at the lie Steven had just told.
“Steven Wilson, you are a liar and I am not happy with you.” She scolded, “I would never take something from Fred to give to you and to say it suited you better is complete nonsense…YOU ARE TWINS!” Brian stifled a giggle and tried to look as upset as his wife did.
“You look the bloody same you moron,” she continued, though the joke was clearly lost on her. “Now give Fred his jumper back dear and let this be an end to it.”
Brian passed the jumper back to Fred who subsequently stuck his tongue out at his sibling before turning on his heels and heading back out of the kitchen towards the living room.
Steven stopped for a moment then shrugged his shoulders, grinned at his dad and followed after him.
“It’s not right Brian, they’re always at each other’s throats,” Sheila said as she crossed her arms.
“They’re twelve-year-old boys love, its normal for them to have this type of rivalry, it’s part of growing up.”
“You didn’t fight when you were their age Brian did you?” Brian had to concede this point as she was quite correct.
“I didn’t, no. But I also didn’t go outside or care about jumpers or clothes in general.” He recalled, “I was only interested in my PlayStation and computer games,” he shook his head regretfully. “I wish I was as active as our boys are when I was their age, seems to me to be much more fun than I had sitting in my room with no friends other than those I spoke to online.”
Sheila sighed and then smiled at her husband, she knew he had not enjoyed growing up and found social situation awkward still to this day. She remembered when she first saw him walking through the sixth form clutching a stack of books to his chest and trying very hard to be inconspicuous. She was intrigued by this boy who didn’t interact with any of his classmates or other students but went from lesson to lesson quietly and always with his head bowed.
It had been a personal challenge to try and get him to speak to her and one day she plucked up the courage to stand in front of him as he walked down a corridor towards the computer lab. He smoothly adjusted his path to go around her, but she was determined.
“Erm…hello. Brian isn’t it?” his head snapped up to look at her watching him and she saw for the first time his beautiful green eyes peering back at her from behind his long fringe.
Brian gave her a little smile and nodded slightly before lowering his eyes and made to carry on moving. She placed her hand on his arm to stop him. “My name is Sheila” she had said, “what lesson are you going to now?” she knew he was off to computing but felt this was the best question to try and engage him with.
“A-level computing, down there.” He pointed with his chin before moving off without another word.
Sheila was smitten and decid
ed there and then she was going to get to know him better.
Looking at him now he was still the same young man she had met twenty years before, but he was also so much more. He was the man who made her feel safe and had given her two beautiful boys both with their father’s eyes. She loved him and smiled at the thought of their life together.
“Well, I suppose you have a point,” she said finally. “But I don’t like it.” Brian smiled and made a gesture of agreement before looking back down at his newspaper. A story had got his attention which he was about to read when he was interrupted, and he scanned the page to find it again.
‘Strange events in Devon’ by Nicola Stuart. The story was about an assault which had taken place near Haytor Rock in Devon ten years earlier.
As he read he smiled at the reporter's viewpoint, as there was no explicable reason these three boys had suddenly become struck dumb by the attack and they were, apparently, still too affected by the events that they couldn’t comprehensively explain what had happened to them, even when using pens to write down their story.
“Seen this love?” he asked as he pointed at the story, “some nutter reporter has it in her head that some kind of black magic or extra-terrestrial event happened in Cornwall...” he smiled to himself as Sheila shrugged her shoulders and carried on buttering some toast she was making herself.
“According to this, three boys were out walking ten years ago when they were viciously attacked, for no reason mind, by a previously unnamed individual now believed to be called Seth Goodman” he laughed reading out the line.
“She goes on to say that even though the youths involved failed to identify Mr Goodman from pictures at the time, it was almost certain he was involved as she has since spoken to the victims who named this man!” he shook his head. It was this type of thing which irritated him.
