The rites involved invoking dark spirits, and the people who carried them out believed, truly believed, doing so would give them superhuman power over others, notably their enemies or rivals. In the main however, they relished the actual rituals – getting thrilling kicks out of letting blood from terrified animal or human sacrifices; from having violent, sadistic sex; raping their victims, inflicting excruciating pain and feeding off the fear. But most of all they really believed the rites gave them magical powers, especially if they harnessed all that energy in one place at the same time. Sleep paralysis, known as a night crusher, was one of the nasty curses they liked to inflict on a victim; another was interminable black depression, a poisoning of the soul and withering of the mind – otherwise referred to as insanity. Psychic attacks most often occurred in a person’s dreams, leaving them sleep deprived and terrified out of their wits. Another was blindness. Add in some poisonous herbs and it wouldn’t be long before an arch enemy would either capitulate or take their own life.
The scene Ruby had described, of an old woman peeling skin off babies in the bath in order to cut out the fat, was also borne out in various satanic practices. Baby fat was mixed with ash to fashion candles for a black mass. Urine, or well water in which babies or infants had been drowned, was used instead of holy water, and the wine used in communion was sacrificial blood. The entire thing was diabolical beyond belief and the images she had seen as she researched the subject would now stay with her forever. Those books she had burned, their very presence in the house serving only to taunt… We’re here now…you can’t ever turn back the clock…we’re here…
How could you prove this kind of thing existed on your doorstep, though, when you were a medium and the only other person who knew about it had been sectioned? Quite simply there was no evidence, and Ruby could easily be accused of having false memory syndrome – that’s what a clever lawyer hired by someone like Paul Dean would say, and most people would agree. In fact, the said clever lawyer could be recruited from the sect itself. Many satanic worshippers were professionals, the kind of people who held great sway over others and who no one would ever suspect. And once sworn in to a satanic cult, there had to be something extremely serious to ally them into the group forever, such as murder. Once in, always in. It was also possible the whole village knew, or had a strong suspicion about what was going on, but kept the secret for fear of what might happen to them or their families.
This girl had escaped though, hadn’t she? Insane, drugged and lost until recently, Ruby was now the most dangerous adversary this satanic sect had ever had. Somehow she had protected herself for all those years with that whatever it was Noel had said she’d got. Dissociative something? By whatever means, Ruby had saved her soul and kept it glittering and pure. Clever girl. Because in the end that was all that mattered and that was all the detestable inhuman darkness wanted to defile – our pure, clean souls.
Celeste crossed herself as the taxi passed the local church, from which people were streaming out from the Sunday afternoon service. However, Ruby was in a weak position, so in reality the only two people, since the police had apparently closed the case, who could save Alice from her fate, were herself and Becky.
***
Chapter Seven
Doncaster Infirmary
Sunday, 27th December 2015
After Sergeant Hall had left, Becky sat with Callum for several more hours. Would he ever wake up? What if he didn’t?
It would be just her luck after all those years of being without him, to have him back and feel all the lights on again inside, only for them to be snuffed out once more. There wouldn’t be any point really, in going on.
No, she couldn’t and mustn’t think that way – this was just his body’s way of recovering from a terrible ordeal. He would surface any day now. He would! She held his hand, turning it over and over in her own, wondering if he could hear her voice. Apparently the last thing to go and the first to come back was the hearing. It was worth a try.
She took a deep breath. “Callum, I want to tell you some things. I suspect you went off to Woodsend that night on your own because you thought I was excluding you and maybe, oh I don’t know, maybe some bad memories were being stirred up? I wish you hadn’t but… well anyway, if you can hear me I need you to know that Noel is just a colleague. Actually he’s gay, if you must know. But I was ill that night and had been for weeks. I didn’t want to tell you just how ill or what was happening in case you freaked out on me, and after all the time we’d been apart because of a misunderstanding I didn’t want you flouncing off again. Sorry, I know you don’t flounce.” She smiled sadly, knowing that if he could respond he’d object at being accused of such a thing. “Look, I didn’t want to lose you again, okay? And I had some horrible, off-the-wall stuff to deal with.”
She stopped. Outside the wind was whipping up and dead leaves swirled around the windows. Callum’s chest rose and fell with each oxygen-assisted breath. Should she tell him about the hallucinations she’d had, and the church visit? After all, he knew nothing of it. He’d spent the week trying to escape from an underground prison by the looks of it and almost lost his life. What truck would he have with the supernatural? Although, to be fair he’d had experience of it once…Okay, it would be best to tell him.
“Right. Look, now I’m going to tell you some things you’re going to have a hard time dealing with, but we go back a long way and I’m asking you to trust me on this. Deep breath…okay, well I asked Noel to take me to a church that night because I’d had some disturbing things happen to me following my accident, and after the meeting with Kristy it hit home that the same thing might be happening to me as it did to Jack McGowan, and I was scared to death… See I told you it was a difficult one…anyway, we prayed all night in that church and afterwards I collapsed. But I was well again. Oh God, Callum, I didn’t want you to have to see me like that. Please understand!
“Anyway, I stayed with Noel in his spare room until I felt better: I couldn’t face going back home and having to explain things to Mark. I just couldn’t cope with all that rowing and stuff. To be honest, I put Noel through a lot and he risked his professional standing to help me. He’s a good mate. The best.”
She traced a pattern on the back of Callum’s hand, running a finger down the forked vein that bulged from the cannula.
“I asked about you every day, you know, until they found you.”
Tears surged hotly and she wiped them away.
“Stay with me.”
Another gust of wind buffeted the windows. “I wish you’d wake up and tell me what you saw. Why on earth did you go out there on your own at that time? Did you come across the Deans? Paul Dean? My guess is you got too close and discovered something or recognised someone; and now you’ve been stopped. It sounds barmy, doesn’t it? Somehow they do that, though – something nasty happens to anyone trying to investigate Woodsend; and the worst part is that the police have just closed the case. According to them you had a car accident and Alice is safely with her loving parents. Did you hear Sergeant Hall say that? Bloody unbelievable!”
She gazed out at a row of trees lining the car park like soldiers at the far end of the field. Skeletal branches forked against a stormy sky boiling with angry clouds, and a low whistle sounded through the vents.
“Do you believe in evil, Callum? That an inhuman intelligence can be raised to destroy us? Sounds nuts, doesn’t it? And here’s the really clever bit - the part they like the best – you can’t tell society what’s happening to you because if you say you’re being possessed or psychically attacked you’re going to get locked up for being a lunatic. And so it goes on - they’re still at it. Not that I know how they do this to us. All I know for sure is that I’m the only person left who’s onto them, and the only one who can get Alice out of there, because what happened to Ruby is absolutely sodding real and I’m determined it’s not going to happen to her daughter as well.
“Thing is though – it means a trip to Woods
end on my own: I can’t even tell the police because…” A twitch of Callum’s hand caused her to stop speaking for a moment. “Callum?”
But he made no further movements and it seemed, depressingly, as if it had just been a nerve jumping around.
She stroked his forehead. “I’m not happy there’s a little girl out there at the Deans’ place. And I’m not convinced you had a car accident either. I’ve got to do something. No one else is going to.”
Again a twitch of his hand. His eyelashes fluttered.
“Your children will be in later, I hope. They’ve been told you’re here. Anyway, I’ve got to make a couple of calls now so you can reflect on just how bonkers your own private mental health nurse is! Oh, by the way, you should know that Mark has filed for divorce, which I’m fine about. I just feel sorry, really sorry, that you and I didn’t get to spend our lives together, and I put him through some pain. I didn’t mean to you know? But in the end you can’t force yourself to love someone, can you?”
Leaning over, she kissed Callum’s cheek. “Please come back to me.”
She stared into his face for several intense seconds. If only his eyes would open and he’d smile that wide smile of his. If only she wasn’t so alone. “I’ll be back tonight, don’t worry.”
***
Outside in the car park the winter wind was icy, blowing people across the tarmac and snatching at litter. Becky hurried towards the bus stop, checking her mobile as she walked. There was a message from Noel, and also one from Celeste. It would be best to call them back en-route.
With the bus full, though, that proved awkward. It didn’t seem to bother other people, who cheerfully discussed their most private affairs in public, but this was somewhat different. With the mobile clamped to one ear and a finger in the other, she strained to hear what Noel was saying – it sounded like he was speaking from the ocean floor.
“I can’t really talk, but how did it go with Celeste?”
“Really well. Ruby seems happier, anyway.”
“Oh, that’s good, then.”
“Same can’t be said for our little trainee!?”
“Why? What’s happened?”
“Now if I tell you, promise you won’t freak!”
“Noel!”
“Okay, well Emily said Ruby was telling Celeste she could hear and see men being hanged in the yard and it was making her ill. Now this place did used to be a prison, Becky, and maybe Ruby knew that and was trying it on? Or maybe she’s trying to spook the other patients, I don’t know.”
“Or she could really be clairvoyant? I knew she was suffering with something!”
“Well, I can’t see Dr Hardy swallowing that one, can you? Anyway, Ruby’s calmed down a bit now she’s seen Celeste, so whatever Celeste did was all good.”
“Yes, I think Celeste should be allowed to visit again. We don’t have to tell Isaac she’s a medium or he’ll be the one to freak. I just think we should do whatever helps her, don’t you? Claire will agree with me, I know she will. Anyway, apparently it’s quite common for people with DID to be psychic. Did you know that?”
Uncomfortably aware that the other people on the bus had gone quiet; Becky dropped her voice to a whisper. “I can’t really talk. Was there anything else?”
“Yes. Emily said Ruby had mentioned a satanic baptism, that ‘she’ would be thirteen soon; and that ‘he’ knows but they’ve paralysed him – although she didn’t say who.”
“Pardon? Do you think she means Callum? Oh my God! Paralysed?”
“Don’t go freaking on me! We’re talking Ruby here!”
“Sorry Noel, but I’m afraid I believe in Ruby. She’s not been wrong yet.”
“Oh, I wish I hadn’t told you now, I really do. I’m up to my neck in it here.”
“Is everything else okay?” she asked, trying to keep her voice steady.
“Only just – we’re hanging by a thread. So how is he? Callum?”
“Still unconscious. He was talking when he was picked up but now he’s just out for the count and he’s not even sedated.”
“He’ll come round. It’s only been a couple of days and he was missing for a week! He’s in the best place. Try to keep calm, Becks. What are you doing now?”
“I’m on my way to Woodsend,” she hissed, with her hand partly over her mouth. “They’ve stopped the investigation and I want to see what I’m up against.”
“Oh my good God! Do you really think that’s wise? What do you think you’ll achieve doing that? Look at what’s happened to everyone who’s been there and one of them a big hairy-arsed detective! I don’t believe I’m hearing this, Becky.”
“I’m just going to return Celeste’s call, and then have a look round while I’m out that way. I want the case re-opened and I want to find Alice.”
“Closed the case? I didn’t know that. Are you serious?”
“Listen, Noel, I’ll call you later. I promise I won’t do anything other than have a walk around. I want to be back here before it gets dark anyway. I’m not leaving Callum overnight.”
“I’m not happy about this.”
“No, neither am I. But there really is only me left and if I don’t do something this will go on and on. Anyway, I really can’t talk here so I’ll ring you when I’m on the bus back, okay? Then you’ll know I’m safe.”
She ended the call, then rang Celeste.
“No!” Celeste shrieked. “You mustn’t go on your own.” She sounded out of breath. “Just a minute, love, I’m walking up to the front door. I’ve been to see Ruby like you said. Look, Becky, listen to me – don’t go on your own. Don’t go near that old mill in Bridesmoor, and do you hear me, don’t go talking to the Deans either. You don’t know what you’re dealing with. ”
“Actually, I think I do.”
“Who’s the pretty lady in hospital? White skin? Blonde hair? Kay?”
“Erm…blimey…it could be Kristy Silver. Why?”
“She needs your help. Badly. Urgently. There’s a link here, I’m sure. The nurse in charge there – I think you know her?”
Taken aback, Becky nodded. “Um, Nora, yes.”
“Where are you now?”
“On the bus. I’m getting off at The Druid Inn. Why?”
“Oh no, you mustn’t. Look Becky, I live in Cloudside. You’ll pass it on your way. Please, trust me – get off a stop early and come to see me instead. At least hear me out first, because there are things you need to know – I’m piecing things together, you see; and you must never go there alone. There has to be someone you can trust who would go with you!”
Becky sighed. The bus was already climbing up The Old Coach Road towards Bridesmoor. A peevish rain spattered across the windows, the moors stretching out for mile after sodden mile on either side. It might not be a bad idea to be armed with more information, but who on earth could go with her? Celeste wasn’t young or fit enough by the sound of it, although she’d never met her. Who then? Noel wouldn’t get the same days off. Ideally a level headed male – someone to square up to the Deans if they appeared...and then a name popped into her head. What about Toby Harbour? Question was though, would he go against his superiors and keep the visit to himself?
“Well yours would be the next stop,” Becky found herself saying as she reached for her bag. “Bit of a hike from up here but—”
“Good, I’ll put the kettle on. See you in ten.”
***
Becky stepped off the bus at the highest point on Bridgestone Moor. Ahead the pithead wheel dominated the landscape like a blackened scarecrow, and to the left lay a barren expanse of moorland between the mine and Cloudside Village. If she’d taken the bus directly there she wouldn’t have to do this, but it was only a mile or so out of her way and Celeste had been pretty adamant. Resigned to a blustery walk, she put her head down against the prevailing wind and began to tramp down the muddy lane. There wasn’t another soul in sight.
The pit had been dead now for about twenty years or so, being one of the last S
outh Yorkshire mines to close. There were mixed feelings. Some were angry at the loss of a good income, others relieved because Bridesmoor had an unusually high mortality rate. The stories went along the lines that you could hear the souls of dead miners trapped underground, howling in the wind. And some people had seen, usually when falling out of The Highwayman or The Druids Inn, grey figures covered in soot, stumbling across the moorland with hands outstretched. Becky smiled. Everyone loved a good ghost story. Sadly though, the mortality figures were not borne out of imagination but were weighted in fact. There had been more men electrocuted or trapped following gas explosions here than anywhere else in the country, along with the highest rate of widowhood and fatherless children.
On a whim she turned to look down over Bridesmoor village, and with the wind behind her stood for a moment imagining what it might be like to live there. It looked like the end of the earth. You could see the whole village from up here – a sprawling estate of bungalows, a few rows of terraces, and a small church at the end just as the houses petered out and the woods began. Was that it? She screwed up her eyes, trying to work out where the old mill might be, concluding that as a water mill it must be somewhere in the trees at the bottom of the village near the river. Hmm…there were woods to the east and the west of it too. Well concealed.
A sudden sharp gust almost lifted her off her feet and she gasped, bending double in the face of it as she whirled around. A belt of sleety rain slashed into her face and with cold, wet fingers it was a struggle to get her umbrella up. Flaming hell!
Then out of nowhere, with the wind blasting in her ears as she wrestled with an inside out umbrella, a black Nissan truck suddenly roared down the lane and almost knocked her down. In an effort to save herself she toppled into the dry stone wall, ripping her coat and skinning her elbow. What the…?
Tanners Dell: Darkly Disturbing Occult Horror Page 6
