Amber StClaire And The Beast Of Sanur

by Brooke Dark

  ‘Rangda is a myth. Where did you hear about her?’

  ‘Google. Would you tell me about her? From a local’s point of view.’

  He considers this. He hands back the scales. ‘Many Balinese fear Rangda. But many Balinese, like people across the world, fear things they do not understand. Things they cannot see. Things that they suspect wander the darkness. Evil spirits, demons, ghosts, monsters. You must understand people’s superstitions to understand Rangda and da Balinese.

  ‘Have you heard of the Day of Silence?’ he asks

  Amber shakes her head. ‘No. I have not. What is it?’

  ‘We call it Nyepi. A sacred day for people of Bali. It happen in March on Balinese Saka New Year. On da day after what Balinese call da Dead Moon, nobody work. Nobody outside. Nobody on da beach. No traffic. No sound. Nobody traveling. All business iss closed. Even airport iss shut down. Everywhere it iss empty. Everywhere it iss quiet. No TV. No radio. No music. People stay at home. Stay quiet. Not even tourist or non-Hindu allowed outside. Da only people permitted are da pecalang, traditional religious men, who make certain dat people observe da custom of Nyepi.’

  Amber is intrigued by this. To think that the noise and bustle of this colourful, vibrant place could be shut down and silenced. It seems impossible. ‘What is the purpose of this day?’

  ‘Da evening before Nyepi, everyone make a noise. Every house, everywhere, people play music, bang pots, play loud instruments, play Gamalang music, use firecracker. People do dis to wake up da bhuta kala, da bad spirit, and chase dem away from their houses. Dis night we have da Ngrupuk parade. People carry giant ogoh-ogoh through da streets.’

  ‘Ogoh-ogoh?’

  ‘Dey are like a giant puppet. Look like a monster. Dey are manifestation of bad spirits and dark forces. Da Ogoh-ogoh are then burnt, to exorcise dark forces from Bali.

  ‘Then on Nyepi, we make no noise. People believe dat if dark spirits return, when dey fly over Bali, da spirit hear nothing, see nobody, see no fire, no smoke. Dark spirit think Bali is empty, dey think all the people have gone. And so dey demselves move on.’

  ‘That’s absolutely fascinating,’ Amber says, looking about, looking upon the Balinese in a new light.

  ‘Balinese Hindu philosophy say there iss a fine balance of light and dark energy,’ Brata tells her. ‘Evil cannot beat good, and good cannot beat evil. Balinese have many ceremony and ritual, like Nyepi and Ngrupuk, to cleanse people and places of dark forces. Forces like Rangda. Forces like da leyak. Maybe we cannot kill Rangda. Maybe we can only chase her away.

  ‘So, who is she?’ Amber asks. ‘In Balinese mythology. Folklore. What is she?’

  Brata shrugs. ‘Some believe she iss a witch. She sneak into people’s house to harm dem, to bring disease, to steal newborn baby. She eat blood of pregnant woman, or blood from da baby. You notice in Bali, baby iss never left alone, always carried by someone. At night people leave a light on in their house. In da village they light oil lamp. If dey don’t, dey believe da darkness will bring Rangda. Or demons like the leyak. Balinese very afraid of dees things. People fear Rangda.’

  He watches Amber closely. He does so for a long while. ‘You think Rangda iss killing dees women?’

  Amber gazes out at the seething, frothing waves. They roar and crash against the reef. The sun bakes Sanur. A cool sea breeze scurries up the beach. Amber shakes her head. ‘No. You say this Rangda eats the blood of pregnant women. Well, we know these girls were virgins. Or at least they weren’t pregnant.’ She looks back at Brata. ‘Still, it’s interesting. Folklore, the world over, is often based on elements of reality.’

  It watches them. From the deep shade. Its face hidden beneath its wide-brimmed straw hat. It rests on its rusty old bike, the bike with its rear basket filled with balloons and plastic toy guns, and cheap plastic dolls, and kites. Its two-toed feet rest in its grubby flip-flops. Its writhing fingers are hidden beneath its shirt.

  It watches them… watching the woman… the one who searches for it…

  Brata’s phone rings. He excuses himself. Rises from his seat. Steps away from Amber. Gazes along the beach as he speaks in Bahasa to whoever is on the other end. Amber speaks no Bahasa Indonesian, but she sees his thoughts.

  By the time his phone call is over and he returns to her she already knows what is going on.

  ‘Another body hass been found,’ he says gravely. ‘A young woman. Discovered in a similar state as da others.’

  ‘I take it they’ve left the body where she was found?’ Amber asks, still gazing out to sea.

  ‘Yes. I have requested she not be disturbed.’

  ‘Good. I might be able to talk to her.’

  Brata frowns. ‘She is dead.’

  ‘Yep. I know.’

  Late afternoon. The crime scene lies on a vacant property adjacent to the Sunrise Paradise Villas. There’s a police presence. There are crowds of people watching, held back at the street by police. A sheet covers the body. Brata is told that it may have lain there undiscovered for up to twelve hours.

  ‘Twelve hours?’ Amber asks. ‘That means she was attacked and killed last evening.’ Sweat beads on Amber’s forehead. She wonders how the tropical heat might ravage a dead body. She asks Brata if she can have more privacy. There are too many people. Too much noise.

  Brata calls for a crime scene tent. As one is mobilised, Amber inspects the grounds. She looks for signs of a disturbance. Using her ‘sight’ to search for spirit wakes, spiritual residue. It’s early dusk. The sun is lowering. The clouds are turning orange. Kites fill the reddened skies over Sanur.

  The tent is erected. Amber asks for privacy. Brata calls his officers away. Amber, alone now, stands there gazing down at the form beneath the sheet. She steps over and kneels beside it. Gently she lifts the sheet. Pulls it aside.

  The girl is Caucasian. Young. Early twenties. Here from some far off place to enjoy a holiday. Only to find death.

  Amber sighs. Bows her head in respect and sorrow for such a young life lost. ‘I’m sorry,’ she says softly, ‘so sorry.’

  She gently touches the forehead of the girl. Shuts her eyes. Says a prayer.

  The girl’s face is contorted. As if immense pain constricted her muscles as she died. Her mouth is thrust open in a frozen howl. Her eyes half rolled up into her eyes sockets. There is thick blood around her thighs. Blood and fleshy matter around her lower abdomen. A trail of ants climbs around her wound. There is also evidence that rats, possibly stray cats too, maybe even dogs, have already been at the girl.

  Her death was brutal, Amber deduces. Horrific. Terrifying.

  Amber lies down next to the body. On her side, facing the dead girl, eyeing her face. She places her hand in the dead girl’s cold hand. Clasps it gently.

  Now she shuts her eyes.

  A short time later Amber sits up. The girl’s body has not moved. However, the girl’s ghost stands there watching her.

  Amber watches it for a little while. ‘Can you see me?’ she asks.

  The girl nods.

  ‘Do you know where you are?’

  The girl shakes her head.

  ‘Something has happened to you. Your life has been taken from this body. Do not fear. You have new life now. In new worlds. You have a choice in where you will go, what you will be. I will help you reach it. Would you like that?’

  The girl nods.

  ‘Can you tell me what happened here? Can you tell me what attacked you?’

  The girl speaks. No voice that Amber can hear. Lips moving in complete silence. Still, Amber sees the ghost’s thoughts. Sees images. Feels her thoughts and fears.

  …she returns late… she’s been out somewhere… at a bar… she walks toward her hotel… she hears something behind her… a squeaking wheel… she turns… someone approaches on a rickety old bike… the wheels squeak, the pedals whine… an old man she thinks… or maybe it’s an old woman… she’s uncertain… she does not see their face… it is hidden beneath a wide-brimmed straw hat… he
passes her by… she notes the strange stench about him… something acrid, rotting… she catches sight of his feet… thick, ugly, retarded things that end in a single puffy toe… she leaves the street to get away from him… the man on his bike vanishes in the dark… she crosses the gardens of the hotel complex… but something bites her on the leg… an ant or a wasp she thinks… it makes her groggy… she stumbles on the grass… begins to lose her senses… she tries to call reception staff for help… but she can form no voice… she collapses… and lies there, panting, paralysed… something crawls out of the bushes… something hideous and fowl and scaled…

  ‘Do you know what it was?’ Amber asks her.

  The ghost shakes her head.

  ‘Do you know where it was from?’

  The girl points.

  Amber tries to think what lies in that direction. There’s the street, buildings, restaurants, hotels, businesses.

  ‘Where?’ Amber asks.

  The girl points.

  ‘Please, sweetheart, you must try to tell me. Think of it. Visualise it, so that I may see it.’

  Though the girl cannot.

  ‘It’s alright,’ Amber reassures her. ‘It’s alright. Do you mind if I sit with you for a little while?’

  The girl stands there, watching Amber. She does not answer.

  Outside the sun is lowering. Bugs begin to chirp.

  ‘Would you like me to help you move on now?’ Amber asks the ghost.

  The girl nods.

  ‘Okay then,’ Amber says softly. ‘Listen to my voice.’

  Fifteen minutes later Amber emerges from the tent. Brata stands with his colleagues, beyond the cordon line. Amber looks about. She has a strange sense. That something is watching. She tries not to make her awareness obvious. She returns to Brata. She takes him aside. ‘Something watches us,’ she tells him. ‘It is here somewhere.’

  He eyes her very seriously. ‘Da killer?’ he asks softly.

  ‘Hard to tell. Either the killer or another of its dark minions.’

  Brata calls over his chief of police. As the police chief approaches Amber says quietly to Brata, ‘Keep in mind, this entity may be difficult to spot. We must look for dark shapes, shadows, smudges against the light. If your people see something, I must be alerted. I will see it, I will be able to track it.’

  Brata speaks in Bahasa to his chief, speaks very low. Relaying most of what Amber has just imparted. The chief of police nods, moves back to his subordinates, spreads the word. His men mobilise in an almost casual fashion.

  ‘I have told them to surround da complex. I told dem nothing of dark entities. I fear diss iss best. Half of dem will refuse to search da area if dey knew what dey are actually searching for.’

  Amber nods, gazes across the grounds. She can pinpoint no entity, no anomaly. Yet she continues to feel its dark presence. ‘Keep this entrance guarded,’ she tells Brata. ‘I will try to trace it. Remember, if it is here, if it is spooked, it may attack, or it may flee. It could go through any one of us.’

  She moves off alone. She picks her way back across the gardens. Fruit bats fly overhead. The sun has almost left the sky, dark vestiges of red cut through the oncoming night. The first stars have begun to twinkle.

  Amber slinks between towering mussaenda shrubs. She crouches. Alone. Concentrating her senses. Blocking all noise. She hears something. A sound of something mewling, almost below its breath. She feels she is close to it. She scans the shrubs, the trees. Using her “sight” to try and pinpoint its position.

  She spots an ominous dark shape against the evening gloom. She watches it. Staying very still.

  In a flash the creature shifts… and in the blink of an eye it vanishes. The shrubs rustle in its wake. Amber sees it not. It is gone.

  She crouches. Waits. Does not move. Listens intently. She hears bugs chirping. Hears sounds of distant traffic. A dog howling. Night birds. She waits. Waits.

  Eventually she returns to Brata. ‘Might be best if you clear your men out for the night,’ she tells him. ‘I fear it has fled. Yet, I feel that it may return.’

  ‘Fled? Did you get a look at it?’ he asks.

  She shakes her head. ‘Not clearly. Not enough to tell me what we’re dealing with. I will stay here tonight. Again, might be best to retire your men for the night. The dark ones will want to come and feed off the life essence that has been spilled. With your men here I fear they will stay away. But if they come, I may learn something from them. Or I may not. I won’t know however unless I remain here.’

  Brata clears out his men. He keeps a skeleton staff on hand. Keeps them back. Well away from the crime scene. The girl’s body is left there. Amber returns to her… and lies down beside her.

  Amber’s skin turns dark. Her eyes go white. She waits…

  By midnight, every dark parasite comes to feed. Amber watches them sup at the pool of life energy. She lies still. Watching them. Fascinated. Repulsed. She searches the dark spaces beyond them. For any sign of the killer. Or any of its minions.

  There is no feeling that the dark entity that watched her earlier has returned.

  At 2 am, Amber leaves the grounds. She finds Brata in his car. His head is back, arms folded, eyes shut, snoozing. She pulls the door open, expecting him to spring awake. He doesn’t. She speaks his name gently. She reaches in and squeezes his shoulder. ‘Brata?’ she asks softly.

  He awakens, sits forward, taking in a sharp breath, looking about. As if for a moment he doesn’t know where he is.

  He looks up at her, eyes wide. Sees who it is. He relaxes.

  He leaves his car. Steps out into the muggy night. Rubbing his face.

  ‘You okay?’ she asks, finding it hard to hide her smile.

  He nods. ‘Yes. You caught me sleeping.’ He smiles back.

  ‘It’s been a long day. Listen, I haven’t detected our killer. It stays away. It knows we’re onto it. I believe it won’t return here tonight.’

  ‘What do you suggest?’

  ‘We call off our hunt. We go home. The girl’s body can be removed now. We figure out a plan in the morning.’

  He’s reluctant. Yet he nods. ‘Okay.’ He sighs. ‘Okay. I will let my people know. Den I drive you back to your hotel.’

  She shakes her head. ‘Thank you, but I prefer to walk. I need some fresh night air.’

  He eyes her closely. ‘Are you certain? There are more menaces on a Bali street at night dan creatures of darkness.’

  Amber nods. ‘As there are in any city across our world, Brata.’ She touches his shoulder. ‘Don’t worry. I can handle myself.’

  He’s reluctant to let her walk home alone. She can see it in his eyes. ‘It’s okay. Honestly. I’ll see you tomorrow.’ She turns and walks off into the night.

  ♥

  ~ CHAPTER NINE ~

  DARKNESS

  IT takes her fifteen minutes. Down dark alley ways, down silent back streets. When she reaches the main drag of Jalan Danau Tamblingan, she begins to encounter drunk tourists. Primarily European men. Some offer to escort her home. Genuinely concerned about a single woman being alone on the street at night. Others have darker thoughts, she senses, those who look her up and down. Those who murmur snide comments to their mates. One even says to her, ‘Baby, come home with me. I make you feel like a woman. You want me, I can tell.’

  She smiles and keeps walking. Ultimately she is left alone. Perhaps they sense something odd about her. Something that should not be messed with.

  Taxis toot at her as they drive by, hoping to snare a fare. Groups of Balinese men hang about, smoking, chatting, laughing, watching her go by. Some ask, ‘You want taxi?’ Her answer is always the same. A polite, ‘No, thank you.’ She presses on. A cat eats at rubbish from an open drain right next to the footpath, beneath the glowing sign of a Circle K.

  Amber nears her hotel… she is about a block away…

  She senses something now… following her. Above her somewhere… in silence… leaping from roof to roof of shop and rest
aurant. Springing quietly from tree to tree. A shadow sticking to shadows.

  Amber makes no hurried movements. Still, she leaves the street. Veers into the front gardens of the Tropical Sands, a resort style hotel not too far from her own accommodation. Away from the ground lights that trail the paved paths between bungalows, the gardens grant her some cover. She heads for the thick, dark foliage of hibiscus, burying herself beneath its lush, leafy branches.

  She waits. Concentrating her mind.

  Amber’s eyes turn white. Her skin becomes the colour of sump oil. Her body hardens, turns insectile. The runes on her skin glow softly.

  The figure has reached the ground now. She hears its feet running across the grass. Approaching at a deadly rate.

  Straight at her.

  Slamming through the hibiscus.

  Amber is ready though.

  She dives to the side. The figure takes half the bush with it as it explodes by her. It turns back for her as soon as it lands. Amber defends herself, grabbing it in her claws as it comes for her.

  It is far too strong. It throws Amber across the grounds where she smashes into the boundary wall of the property, another wall built out of coral that crushes beneath the force. The figure flies at her, hissing. Amber springs aside, gripping it, dragging it with her, using her momentum to swing it over the wall.

  It drags Amber with it.

  Beyond the wall there is a vacant area of land full of weeds and shrubs and coconut palms and an old dirt path leading to the beach. Arcane talons tear at Amber. Scratching her. She screeches. She deploys a burst of elf-light from her fingers, a pulse of bright green energy that cuts through the fiend. The creature howls as some of its scales are torn free and go clattering to the ground. Black gas erupts from its wound. Amber grips the monster, emitting another green pulse of light. Cutting through it once more. It screeches and scrambles up the wall, bounding for the nearest tree, up its trunk onto a roof, rushing away.