The Third Skull (Book one - The Discovery): A Paranormal Mystery Thriller

by Andrew Stafford

  He clicked 'red' from the digital pallet and selected a fine nib pen and waited.

  Finn was right handed. He couldn’t write, draw or barely hold a pen in his left hand, but something repeatedly made a nerve twitch in the middle finger of his left hand. He moved closer to the computer screen and watched a single red pixel appear on the top right corner of the blank document. A minute later another pixel appeared, and this time it was in the middle of the screen. A few seconds later another appeared at the bottom.

  What’s happening? thought Finn as pixel after pixel appeared on the screen.

  He was so engrossed with what was happening he hadn’t noticed it was his finger that was tapping the mouse and making each pixel appear one by one. His middle finger on his left hand, the one on which he wore the ring, gently nudged and clicked the mouse making each pixel materialise on the screen.

  It was almost ten o'clock, Finn was in a stupor and became fixated by the screen. Each time a new pixel appeared he became lured further into a trance like state.

  Just after ten a taxi beeped its horn, but Finn didn’t hear. He became more and more engrossed as a pattern emerged on the screen.

  The impatient taxi driver beeped again and strained his neck to look out of the passenger window to see if anyone came to the door. He cursed, got out and walked along the garden path, looking at the barren garden as he made his way to the front door.

  Angrily, he rapped on the door and rang the bell.

  Finn continued to become entranced by what materialised in front of him. His eyes were almost shut and were tiny slits, causing his vision to blur. He couldn’t hear the taxi driver banging on the door and calling through the letter box.

  After five minutes the driver gave up and sped away.

  Subconsciously Finn continued to tap away with his finger on the mouse and the image continued to develop. He was becoming tired and lethargic and his head dropped. He rubbed his forehead with his right hand as he carried on clicking the mouse with his left. He rested his head on his right hand and drifted into a semiconscious state as his middle left finger clicked away creating the random image on the screen.

  An hour had past and Finn was in the same position adding pixel after pixel to the image unfolding before him. His eyes were closed and he rocked back and forth. The hypnotic lull of his rocking lured him into a light sleep in which a strange and vivid dream manifested in his subconscious.

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  He was upon a black horse galloping through the countryside on a cold day. He could feel the rush of frosty air across his face as the steed continued to race through fields and lanes. He was not alone. Behind him were other riders dressed to keep warm against the winter morning. The sun rose behind them and the western sky showed the last of the night stars. Venus was ahead of the sun in the east and shone like a beacon.

  The excited dogs were somewhere in the distance. He followed the baying of the hounds.

  Finn and the riders passed a small building in a rocky field. He glanced at it as he sped past. The building was familiar. He continued toward the hounds.

  Finn and the riders slowed their horses when they had reached the dogs yapping and howling in a canine dither.

  “What are your intentions?” asked one rider who was an ugly short man with a menacing tattoo across his face.

  “We must go back, we’ve missed something,” replied Finn in a voice which did not belong to him.

  The ugly man with the tattoo climbed from his horse and teased the dogs with a section of torn cloth. The dogs became excited and jumped up at the man.

  “Get back on your horse Mr. Morris and follow me,” shouted Finn and made his way back towards the east.

  Morris and the other riders followed Finn, and the dogs followed the riders.

  Five minutes later Finn saw the building as he neared the top of a small hill. He slowed down and waved to the riders to do the same. The dogs charged past Finn and Morris who cautiously made their way to the stone building.

  “I think you’ve found her,” said Mr. Morris.

  The riders trotted their horses to the building and dismounted.

  Finn watched Morris light a torch and make his way to the building, followed by the other men.

  Finn stood alongside his horse and lit a briar pipe.

  “She’s in here, tell Drake we’ve found her,” shouted Morris.

  Finn snuffed out his pipe, placed it in his pocket and made his way to the building. He stopped outside, thanked Mr. Morris and waited a few seconds before stepping into the building.

  His eyes became accustomed to the dimness of the small building when he heard a strange sound in the corner. The sound increased, it was a niggling repetitive tune that wouldn’t go away. The building faded and was replaced by a red pattern on a glaring white background. Finn rubbed his face and gazed at the laptop.

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  He came out of the strange dream, blinked his eyes and gawped at the screen.

  “Did I do that?”

  He pushed back the chair, stood up and glared at the computer.

  “No, no no!” he shouted.

  He placed the cursor beneath the red circular pattern and put a cross below it, then slammed the lid.

  The niggling tune started again. He looked at his phone next to the computer and saw he had missed a call. Finn grabbed the phone and threw it across the room.

  He fell to the settee, curled up in a ball and thought of the dream. He looked at the ring and rubbed it with his finger. Thoughts of his journey to the States eluded him. He hadn’t heard the taxi driver knocking and he’d missed a call from Tomlinson’s secretary.

  She’d received a call from the taxi company who’d told her that their driver wasn’t able to collect Finn and she was worried about him.

  Finn switched his attention to the pattern which should have been on the blank sheet of paper found on Robert Buxton when he’d jumped in front of the train.

  He stood up, lurched back to the laptop and lifted the lid. He looked at the pattern and hit delete.

  And then it started again.

  He became lured by the blank document and subconsciously clicked one pixel at a time. A new image appeared on the screen and just as before, he became sleepy.

  The dream he’d had before repeated from the start. Just as before, he chased through the countryside with the sound of the howling dogs ahead of him. Behind him were Mr. Morris and his disparate gang endeavouring to keep up. He ended up at the same small stone building in the field to be advised by Morris that inside was the woman for whom he'd been searching.

  Finn entered, and this time the dream didn’t abruptly end.

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  In the corner sat a young woman in her early twenties. She was tired and scared. Finn stepped closer while Morris stood behind holding a burning torch.

  Finn took a breath and spoke in a voice which sounded familiar.

  “Hello Alice, I’ve been looking for you……..what have you done with my children?”

  The trembling girl didn’t speak. Finn knelt beside her and spoke again.

  “Alice, I’d really like to know what you’ve done with my children. Please tell me where they are.”

  “They’re not your children,” replied the young woman.

  Finn moved closer and put his mouth to her ear.

  “This will be my final time of asking. Think carefully before you answer. What have you done with my children?”

  “I won’t tell you. They’re somewhere you’ll never know. I may be young, but I’m not stupid. I know your secret and I know you’re not their father.”

  "You know nothing!” shouted Finn.

  “I know enough to make sure you never see those children again.”

  “Very well,” said Finn. His voice became calm as he stood over her.

  Finn noticed the girl looking at the ring on his finger. He had an urge to kill her, but didn’t know why. He was about to
order Mr. Morris to deal with her when a notion occurred to him.

  He turned back to the girl who covered her face with her hand expecting him to hit her.

  “Why are you interested in this ring? Tell me what you know about it?”

  The woman looked at him without speaking.

  Finn repeated the question in calm, almost reassuring voice.

  “Tell me what you know about this ring?” he said whilst watching the rubies sparkle in the light of Mr. Morris’ flaming torch.

  “Why are you even asking?”

  “Because I need you to tell me. I want to hear it from you.”

  “It’s your obsession. Don’t worry, I’ve worked it out. I know why you took William and Louisa after their mother died after giving birth. I know why you want them and that’s why I’m making sure you’ll never see them again.”

  “Tell me about my obsession, why do I want the two children so badly?”

  “But it’s not only them you want is it? Even if you get your hands on them, your search still isn’t over.”

  Finn looked at her with a puzzled expression.

  “Why not? Why is my search not over?”

  “Don’t play games with me Alexander. Either let me go, or kill me…… the choice is yours.”

  Finn looked at her.

  “Alexander? Why do you call me Alexander?”

  Morris looked with concern.

  “Is something the matter?”

  Finn ignored Morris.

  “Don’t play games with me. You’re an evil man. Either kill me or let me go,” said the girl in a brave voice.

  “She’s not going to talk” said Finn. “Mr. Morris, do your worst.”

  Finn stepped out of the building to the sounds of muffled screams as Joseph Morris kicked the defenceless but brave young girl.

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  He awoke from the dream to the sound of Sophie calling his name. The door wouldn't open because Finn deadlocked it the night before.

  “Finn, Finn can you hear me? Are you in there?”

  Her voice became clearer as she bellowed through the letter box.

  “Finn, are you okay?”

  He was confused. He glanced at the clock on his laptop and couldn’t believe the time.

  Finn rubbed his eyes, looked at the laptop and saw something amazing. A pattern, like the ones on his ring and that Rosie had drawn. It was also very much like the drawings that Henry Buxton had shown him in his house.

  Although similar, it was so very different. He had a feeling that the image staring back had something to do with the ‘new’ Finn Maynard, and the strange things happening in his house.

  Sophie called his name, but it didn't register. He was lost in his own world and continued to stare at the screen. He knew this was what drove Robert Buxton to take his life. This was the third pattern that Buxton had been trying to draw. The pattern that caused him to lose his mind. Now Finn had it. It belonged to him. Beneath the pattern he drew a red tick, saved the file and closed the lid.

  Sophie was beside herself with worry. Ian Tomlinson had phoned and told her that Finn hadn't answered the door when the taxi driver had called. Tomlinson had called several times but Finn hadn’t answered. He had called Sophie a quarter of an hour ago, and Sophie had rushed round to check he was okay.

  Through the letter box she could see his suitcase in the hallway so assumed he must be in the house. She screamed his name as loud as she could.

  Finn looked up. Her shrill voice registered with him.

  “Not now bitch,” he whispered to himself.

  He crawled along the floor, popped his head around the lounge door and looked along the hall.

  His eyes met with hers and he ducked back into the lounge.

  “Finn, what’s happening? Why’re you still here?”

  He sat on the floor in the lounge with his back against the wall. She’d asked a good question. Why was he still here? He had no idea. He’d no recollection of the taxi driver and couldn’t remember what had happened that morning. He could vaguely recall the dream, and the pattern on the laptop had become a distant memory.

  He knew something important had just happened, but couldn’t remember what.

  “Finn, what are you doing in there?”

  One thing of which he was sure, his infuriating wife had nothing to do with whatever was happening to him.

  The pattern on his laptop popped back into his mind’s eye.

  He crawled back to his computer and lifted the lid. The thing whirred back into life showing the red pattern he’d just subconsciously finished drawing.

  As soon as he saw it his memory of the dream became clear. He felt strong and powerful. His moment of insecurity had passed.

  “Leave me alone bitch,” shouted Finn along the hall.

  Sophie heard him holler and was shocked by the words he’d yelled.

  “Finn, open the door, please speak to me.”

  “Fuck off!”

  “Finn…… please come to the door.”

  “Which bits of ‘fuck’ and ‘off’ don’t you understand?” snarled Finn.

  Sophie cried. She didn’t understand what had happened to the man she loved.

  “Why are you still here?” bellowed Finn.

  “Because I love you and I’m worried about you.”

  ‘Because I love you and I’m worried about you’ spun around his mind.

  For a moment he felt vulnerable. His love for Sophie returned. He was going to unlock it when he heard a voice. The same voice he’d heard coming from himself when he’d seen the vision of Alice Donaldson in his bathroom and it was the voice he’d spoken in the dream.

  ‘Maynard you little shit. Step back from the door, stay focussed. This is too important to fuck up.’

  Sophie waited outside and Finn turned the lock. The door opened, and he looked her in the eye.

  The voice had brought the ‘new Finn’ back after his brief lapse.

  He looked at Sophie, but didn’t see the woman he used to love. Instead he saw a parasite. He saw a scrounger. To him she was nothing but a freeloader who had been living off his hard earned money. She didn't work, she stayed home looking after the sorry excuses she had for children. She didn't do anything of benefit to him.

  “I’ll tell you this once. Fuck off. Get away from my house. I don’t want you here.”

  Sophie was beside herself and couldn’t understand what was happening.

  “What have I done to upset you so much?” she asked through her tears.

  “You’re pathetic,” said Finn shaking his head.

  “But what’s happening to you Finn? I don’t understand.”

  “Forget about Finn, he’s gone. He’s dead.”

  She stopped crying, swallowed hard and looked at him.

  “So you’re telling me you’re not Finn. You’re not Finn Maynard, the man I married and have two wonderful children with?”

  “Shut up and go.”

  She knew she was getting nowhere. He was having some kind of breakdown and she worried he would become violent.

  Sophie turned around to leave, then stopped, turned back and asked him a question.

  “If you’re not Finn, then tell me who the hell you are?”

  He looked at her with an air of puzzlement. She’d floored him.

  He thought of the dream. He recalled chasing through the countryside on horseback and the young woman in the stone farm building who spoke to him of his children. He remembered what she’d said. She told him ‘They’re not your children’.

  It had made little sense, but one thing was beginning to connect with him, which was the person he’d been in the dream. It was like nothing before. In the dream he’d been unstoppable and untouchable. He was wealthy, important, and a man who had great influence over others. He’d felt strong and confident until he’d confronted the young woman Alice. There was something about her, something she said that he didn’t understand. It was about the ring. She knew why the ring was
important. She’d said the ring was his obsession and she’d also talked about the children, William and Louisa, and that he’d taken them from their mother. She’d referred to him as Alexander. Finn shut his eyes and gripped the door.

  Alexander…. Alexander…. Alexander, he thought as the name circled his mind. And then it came to him.

  “I said, if you’re not Finn, tell me who you are?” repeated Sophie with her hands on her hips and a look of defiance in her eye.

  “Who am I?” asked Finn. “You really don’t know me do you?”

  “No, right now, I can honestly say I’ve no idea who you are.”

  “My name is Alexander. Alexander Drake. I'm busy, so fuck off and leave me alone.”

  She was about to speak, but she knew it was pointless.

  “I said fu……,” said Finn, but was interrupted by Sophie.

  “Don’t worry Finn, or Alexander, or whoever the hell you’re supposed to be. I’m leaving you. You won’t be seeing me again."

  He smirked and slammed the door.

  Gabriel Butler watched and grinned from the porch of Kieran Tempest’s house.

  “Welcome back Alexander my friend. It’s been a long long time.”

  Chapter 39

  He still found it hard to believe. Even months after Gabriel Butler had transferred over one and a three quarter million pounds to his account, Kieran Tempest would spend hours staring at his bank balance, which was just over one and a quarter million, as the Tempest’s had just purchased a five-bedroom house at a shade under half a million pounds.

  “It’s ready sir, it’s yours to drive away.”

  Kieran looked up. He’d been contemplating his newly found wealth and became lost in his own little world.

  “I’m sorry, pardon?” said Kieran.

  “Your new car, it’s on the forecourt and here’re the keys, it’s ready to go sir,” repeated the salesman.