Black Cat Tales: Black Anne and Other Short Stories
Page 11
outwards as if to grab them and he wondered for a moment if they’d been at that angle last night? Lucas’ comments returned to him on the fresh dawn breeze and he was immediately forced to push a sheaf of half-formed spine-tingling images from his mind, before he spooked himself silly.
A second later he was suddenly grabbed from behind by Lucas.
“Gotcha!”
Timmy yelled in surprise and Lucas collapsed in hysterics.
The disturbing thoughts Timmy had been rounding up in his head were scattered in all directions and his unease quickly flashed into anger.
“You idiot” he shouted at Lucas, punching him on the leg through his sleeping bag. He was never violent usually and at once felt ashamed, but Lucas hadn’t even noticed he’d hit him.
“Too easy” the other chuckled as Timmy stomped out of the tent.
When they began their now, uninspiring, wildlife survey up at the lake, Lucas had made Timmy bring the fishing rods. Fishing wasn’t strictly allowed here but who would know? They were all alone on Mere, as Lucas frequently pointed point out.
It was an observation that didn’t reassure Timmy.
His frustration had eased a little but the strange otherworldly presence still lingered all around him. Elusive crickets chirped unseen in the long grasses around them, warning each other of the two intruders.
Lucas must be worried about this island as well, Timmy thought. He’d caught him glancing at the tree when he thought Timmy wasn’t looking and he’d said very little this morning, as if his mind was elsewhere.
There are lots of doorways here he recalled the words from his fevered dreams last night. Not doors made by people but doors to other places. It didn’t make sense but thinking about the statement reawakened the idea that they were being watched. Plus, alongside with Lucas’ uncharacteristic introversion, Timmy felt even more strongly that something on the island was waiting for them.
It was so quiet here as well. If they had been anywhere else he would have described it as peaceful. But it was a tense, pregnant stillness that smothered any sense of tranquillity. Every sound they made was amplified in the grave austere environment so that everything on the island could hear every sound they made and knew exactly where they were all the time.
“What’s up?” Lucas’ voice cracked the silence and Timmy became aware he’d been watching him. Lucas couldn’t quite hide the note of forced casualness form his voice, as if he was trying to hide something.
“I was just thinking about this place and… that tree” Timmy ventured carefully.
“I don’t like that thing” Lucas said slowly looking back at the cold surface of the lake. “It’s creepy the way its branches seem to follow you”.
“What do you mean?” Timmy asked, becoming aware of the temperature quickly dropping around him.
“Like this morning” Lucas said conspiratorially. “I was taking a piss in the corner of the field and that tree was leaning over towards me. Then, later on when you were making breakfast it was leaning towards the left, just where we were sitting”.
“Should we move the tent to another spot?” Timmy suggested too eagerly before he realised his error.
Lucas paused as a hurtful smile curled at his thin lips.
“You’re not scared of it are you?” he sneered.
“No” He replied, too quickly.
“Don’t worry, I’ll protect you from the evil tree” Lucas’ coarse laughter was almost triumphant.
“Get lost”. Timmy had had enough.
Lucas revelled in his own hilarity as he headed back to the campsite to start the campfire for their evening meal of beans and pot noodles. They’d been running low on water and he’d left Timmy with the water purifying tablets and two plastic ten litre containers, which he had to fill and bring back to camp.
Timmy toyed with a number of things he could and should have said to Lucas as the other went crashing back through the foliage. Still, at least getting the water was a good excuse to stay away from that tree a little longer. Its disturbing form had continued to creak in his mind - its monstrous branches stretching out to seize him in the moonlight of his imagination.
Timmy had just filled the second container when he heard Lucas shouting. He knew something was wrong even before he saw the trail of smoke rising over the hill.
An urgent panic possessed he was propelled through the long whispering grasses. Startled butterflies tumbled upwards as he blundered through their resting places. Nettles and thorns scratched his bare legs but in his haste he wouldn’t notice them until later.
Bursting through the woodland Timmy was strangely disorientated. He’d either taken a wrong turn and entered the campsite from a different direction. Or else the twisted tree had actually moved! From where Timmy now stood, the tree was no longer on the edge of the clearing; it now rose halfway between the treeline and their tent.
Timmy registered this inconsistency in a split-second. There was no time to dwell on it because of the more immediate concern of the fire that had engulfed the hideous tree. Lucas, evidently, had had enough of the tree as well and he’d stupidly decided to burn it to the ground.
The tree’s decayed timbers must have gone up instantly. Its dry twigs and branches crackled loudly in the heat. Lucas was rushing around frantically shouting for Timmy to help.
Timmy lugged the water bottles as fast as he could, almost tripping over himself as the heavy containers banged against his thin legs. Smoke stung his eyes and he blinked away tears as he lumbered forwards to tackle the blaze before it got out of control.
That night Timmy was alone again in the tent picking the thorns from his legs. Explosions of shock and anger continued to go off in his head like fireworks. He’d not uttered a word since he put out the fire out and he’d not eaten his supper either.
Why did Lucas have to come on this trip, he kept asking himself?
The night was getting cold and Timmy shivered.
In the morning the ferry would be coming back to collect them and it would all be over. He lay down in the hopeful knowledge that this time tomorrow he’d be at home in his warm cosy bed.
Somewhere out there amid the nocturnal orchestra of Mere, a tree was creaking in the wind. It couldn’t be that nightmare tree because that was gone now.
After a while Timmy became aware of a shuffling sound outside, followed by Lucas’s heavy breathing and Timmy went rigid. His blood ran cold in an instant and his lungs froze. He couldn’t breathe, despite his heart hammering against his chest. He could see the other’s shadow moving across the canvass outside.
Lucas was at the front of the tent now, fumbling with the zip as he tried to get inside.
That nightmare tree had died in the fire, Timmy reminded himself… along with Lucas.
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Thank you for reading my book. If you enjoyed it, please take a moment to leave me a review at your favourite retailer?
Thanks!
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About Andy Morris
Andy has been writing short stories on and off for most of his life. He has had many stories published on various websites and in both print and electronic magazines.
Andy currently lives near the south coast of England with his beautiful wife and two amazing kids.
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Discover Other Titles by Andy Morris
Black Cat Tales: Where the Spiders Dwell and Other Short Stories
Dreams Come True: Book One of the Connor True Series
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Connect with Me:
Check out the Black Cat Tales website: https://blackcattales.weebly.com
Follow me on Twitter: https://twitter.com/BlackCatTales1
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Calling All Writers
Black Cat Tales hold ongoing short story competitions.
If you have a story with a supernatural / horror flavour please visit:
https://blackcattales.weebly.com/submissions.html
Winning stories will be:
1. Published on the site
2. Promoted on the various Black Cat Tales social media pages
3. Sent out as a PDF document to all Newsletter subscribers and;
4. It may feature in a Black Cat Tales eBook.
You've got nothing to lose so good luck and spread the fear.
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