Josh smiled at her, and with a chuckle said, “Slow down, dear; you’ll be on time.”
“It’s all right for some,” she replied, putting her now-empty cup down onto the table. “Not all of us have the luxury of working from home.”
Rosie got up and went into the hallway to put her coat on. Josh followed, and Rosie turned to him.
“I’ll cook us that bacon for our tea later,” she said, slinging on her coat. “What are you doing today?”
Josh exhaled heavily. “I’m going to try and get some inspiration to finish my book, but I’ll do the housework first.”
They kissed again.
“See you later, then,” Rosie chuckled. “I know you like wearing my apron.”
She ran out of the door, closing it behind her and leaving a laughing Josh standing alone in the hall.
***
It was now about 8.40am and the sun was shining through some thin morning clouds, and all of the towns and villages along the stretch of coast where Josh lived were getting ready for the day. Shops and cafes were opening and market stalls were having their covers ripped off ready for the day’s trading to begin.
George, who had lived in Ingoldmells all of his adult life and who was well known to the other locals, was walking to work, but as he was in a hurry, he didn’t notice an ashen-looking child following him.
George suddenly became uneasy and spun around as he felt that he was being watched, but found that he was all alone in the street. It was quite a long street lined with a few trees and not a lot of houses, and the houses that were scattered throughout the area were older and some of them were being demolished to make space for new builds. He then heard an infant’s cry ring out. The painful wail seemed to echo and fill the area but it didn’t seem to have any fixed point as to where it came from, which confused George.
He looked all around but couldn’t see a child, so, feeling a little scared, called out, “Hello, is anybody there?”
The cry stopped as abruptly as it started, and all was silent once again.
George continued his walk down the street, but with each stride he looked around. He crossed a road and walked towards some building work outside an old abandoned house. Most of what remained of the house was its brick shell, the kind of house you used to play in as a child. Its windows were gone and the entire upper level had been demolished. Through the gaps in the walls where the windows and doors once stood, you could see the piles of stone and rubble left by the builders. George passed a small digger and a mini road roller as some groundwork was also going on, and as he reached the house he looked through one of the window gaps and was startled when a small boy jumped up onto the window ledge. This young, scruffy, degenerate lad was crying, so George felt he had to do something.
“Hello, I thought I heard your cry earlier,” he said in a calm manner so he didn’t further upset the boy. “Are you all right?”
The boy smiled and muttered, “You’re my daddy.”
“No, I’m not,” George stated with a grin, “but let’s get you out of there as it’s not safe.”
He reached up to the boy to help him down from the ledge, but the urchin leant against the unsafe wall, which sent it crashing down onto a shrieking George.
Trapped on his back underneath the pile of mortar and rubble, George was pinned down, unable to move. All that was sticking out from under the mound was his head, but he was still conscious. He felt the weight crushing his ribs and legs and squeezing the air from his lungs. Coughing and spluttering, George slowly turned his head and assessed his dilemma. George still had some air left in his slowly compressing lungs and he let out a cry of pain as his neck cracked, sending a sharp pain all through his mangled body, so he stopped moving.
“Boy, where are you?” he managed to utter in agony. “Help me.”
George was relieved when the small boy appeared, standing above him.
“Thank God – go and get help.”
The infant walked away and George felt a bit better knowing that help would soon arrive. He managed another weak breath to get some much-needed air into his lungs, but his new-found hope was soon to be dashed.
George heard the sound of the nearby road roller he had previously walked past start up. The sound grew louder and louder, and George became scared.
“Hello, who’s there?” he wailed, but no reply came his way. The vehicle slowly drew nearer and nearer, so George painfully turned his head to face it and was horrified at what he saw.
The devil child was sitting in the roller and, with evil black eyes which looked like wells in the snow against his pale skin, was staring directly at the prone man trapped under the heavy blanket of bricks. The roller was a slow-moving machine and George could see every dent and piece of dirt and sand on the powerful, heavy wheel being driven towards him.
“No, stop!” he yelled as loud as he could. “Find the brake!”
But it was to no avail; the boy was not going to stop his deadly mission and he seemed to take pleasure in knowing what was to come, and there was nothing at all that George could do as he was helpless to stop the approach.
The roller drew nearer to George and he could now feel the ground under his head rumble and vibrate. His eyes shook in their sockets but all he could do was watch in terror as the heavy-duty machine was almost upon him. The iron wheel turned and moved closer and closer, and George’s eyes opened wide. He knew he was doomed.
With a last cry of fear he yelled, “No, please stop!”, but the child continued to drive the machine. George turned his face away from the roller and was just about to give out his last scream, but it was too late as the roller finally reached his head and slowly began to roll over it. The heavy front wheel was relentless as it hit George’s skull contorting its features.
With a sickening loud crack, George’s fate was sealed. The roller crushed his head and his eyes popped out and shot along the pavement in a spurt of blood which also splattered the iron wheel. His skull slowly smashed and came apart, and George’s brain was soon exposed with each falling away of bone. As the vehicle rolled over his head it suddenly exploded in a hail of blood, brain, hair and bone which covered the wheel and the surrounding pavement in a messy puddle of filth.
The evil boy continued to drive the roller until it had cleared where George had lain, but where his head once was there was now only a massive, disgusting bloodstain with small pieces of bone and tissue mixed in, and George’s lifeless eyes were staring up into the sky from the ground nearby. The urchin got down from the roller and placed a King of Clubs card in the pool of blood and bone, then he walked down the road and faded away, leaving the scene of chaos in his wake ready to be discovered by the builders when they turned up for work.
At the Bank
A few days later, Maggie Sykes was reading of the two strange deaths when she shivered and suddenly became aware that they may somehow be connected. She put down the newspaper and left her chalet.
Maggie got into her car, but just before she drove away the image of a man wearing a top hat flashed in her rear-view mirror. She screamed, then, composing herself she summoned the nerve to look into the mirror again, but all she saw was her own reflection. Anyone else would have just been relieved, but as Maggie was psychic she knew that it must have meant something more. She drove into town and locked her car to start her walk to the bank.
***
Alan, a local shopkeeper, was also walking through the town when he had the uneasy feeling that he was being followed. He spun around and glimpsed the figure of a dishevelled young boy. A passer-by blocked his view for a split second, and when his view cleared the boy was gone. Did he really see him?
Alan continued his journey, but became more scared with each step he took. He felt terrified but didn’t know why.
He crossed a road, and directly in front of him was the dirty, dishevelled lad once again. The child j
ust glared at Alan and let out a loud, piercing scream, and as he did so, his mouth became unnaturally wide, his jaw dropping so much that it hit his chest, revealing a large black hole where his mouth should be. Alan stared in horror, but all of the other people in the area seemed to be oblivious to this malevolent presence.
Alan looked around and couldn’t believe the passing crowds were ignoring this unholy, impish child. He blinked, and the boy was gone. With his fear now growing even more Alan walked a little faster towards the bank, but again he caught a glimpse of the youngster in the crowd. Breathing shallower and a lot quicker, he tried to ignore his vision as he broke out into a trot. As he passed a shop window he saw the evil boy inside with his mouth again open wide in a silent scream, and the mite didn’t take his eyes off Alan, who quickened his stride. Alan was now in a blind panic and he burst into the bank, violently pushing open the doors in front of him.
The people already inside all turned and glared at him due to his rude and noisy entry, and the room suddenly fell quiet. Alan felt embarrassed but also relieved, as he was no longer alone but surrounded by the other customers who were talking and waiting in line. He looked around the room to see if his fiendish follower was there, but there was no sign of the ghostly child. The bank’s customers all turned away to attend to their business, and Alan joined a queue. Maggie Sykes then entered the building and joined a different line.
At last Alan reached the counter and was just about to get out his bank card when he suddenly became filled with fear once more. He looked behind the cashier and saw the demonic young boy standing against the wall behind her, pointing straight at him.
“Look!” Alan shouted at Rachel, the cashier, as he pointed at the child. “There, you must see him!”
Rachel turned around in her chair and looked at the wall, but she saw nothing.
“Sorry, sir, I don’t know what you mean.”
Alan’s eyes widened and his heart raced, and again he pointed at the evil boy. This time he yelled at the top of his voice, “There, look at him!”
Rachel quickly glanced backwards, but again she saw nothing.
“Please calm down, sir, or I’ll have to call security,” she said, sensing a situation developing.
Alan turned to the other people in the room. “Look, someone must see him!” he shouted once more, but everyone thought he must be mad and ignored him. Even Maggie couldn’t see the urchin standing behind the cashier; however she could sense something was amiss and she had a feeling of foreboding.
Alan turned back and again pointed towards the evil boy, but this time he leant over the counter a bit further, and as he did so he brushed against Rachel making her knee hit a button underneath the counter. This activated a tough Perspex security screen which suddenly shot straight up from the counter towards the ceiling, and as Alan was leaning over the counter, the screen hit him in his stomach and sent him upwards, pinning him to the ceiling with his legs on one side of the Perspex and his torso on the other side of it.
Everyone in the bank yelled and screamed in fear for Alan, who was struggling for breath. He had blood spurting from his stomach which dripped down both sides of the plastic screen, and there was some trickling from his mouth as well. Some of his intestines began to seep out of the wound, and a muffled yelp came from his lips as he gasped for air. Rachel and another colleague held their hands up to Alan and tried to support him but they could barely stretch up high enough to help, and there were screams of panic coming from all around the room. Alan was violently grabbing at the plastic screen, but there was nothing to hold on to so his hands just slipped around on it, spreading his blood and making the screen even more slimy and messy.
On the other side of the Perspex, some of the customers were reaching up trying to help support Alan’s kicking legs, and there was chaos all around the room. Alan was being crushed against the ceiling by the security screen and there was nothing that anyone could do.
They all watched in horror as a colleague shouted to Rachel, “Quick, press the release button!”
Rachel reached under the counter and pressed the button, but the button just sparked, which made Rachel jump backwards and land on the floor in a heap. The screen didn’t move. Rachel realised that Alan was doomed. With a sickening crack of bone, he let out a scream as blood poured from his wide-open mouth. His innards started to ooze out from the opening along his waist and his intestines began to slip down both sides of the plastic screen. Then suddenly, the screen violently shot up the last few inches and slammed into the ceiling. Alan was sliced completely in half.
Screams rang out all around the room as Alan’s legs slowly slid down the screen, leaving a sickly trail as they hit the counter, and landed on the floor in a standing position with blood still spurting upwards from out of them, which splattered some of the customers. Entrails were flopping down from the hole in Alan’s torso and although he was dead, his eyes were still wide open as his upper half slipped down the Perspex. There was an ear-piercing, high-pitched screech as his blood-soaked hands slid down the plastic and a river of blood and guts followed, leaving a long, slimy trail in its path.
Alan’s torso fell away from the security screen and landed on the screaming Rachel, who suddenly found that she was staring directly into the dead man’s contorted and pained face. With a loud scream she threw Alan’s torso from her lap and it hit the wall with a ghastly splat.
As the panic continued throughout the room, a King of Clubs playing card materialised on the body of the dead man.
Maggie saw the playing card appear and thought she saw a child from out of the corner of her eye but when she turned her head, no child was anywhere to be seen. A feeling of terror fell over her like a shroud, but she still didn’t know what it all meant. She ran out of the bank and along the road, other people in the street were moving out of her way as she dashed along, heading for the police station. She burst in through the doors and ran straight up to the desk, where a surprised constable stared at her.
“Please, madam, calm down,” he said to the obviously disturbed woman. “How can I help?”
Maggie composed herself. “There’s been a horrible death at the bank.”
The constable was stunned as Maggie continued, “It’s all connected.”
“Connected – what do you mean, connected?” the young officer asked.
“It has something to do with the other two weird deaths that happened this week, I just know it has.”
The police officer started to write down what Maggie had just related to him.
“Now then, madam, tell me just how this is all connected.”
Maggie’s face dropped as she knew what was about to happen. “I can sense things,” she informed the constable. “I know things that normal people can’t understand.”
The officer glared at the strange woman standing in front of him. “Hold on, madam, what’s your name?”
A sigh came from her lips as she replied quietly, “Maggie Sykes.”
The officer tore the page from his notebook and threw it into the waste bin. “Maggie Sykes… ah yes, you have wasted our time many times before, haven’t you? Go on, get out.”
He pointed to the door, and as Maggie had been in this situation before she knew it was not worth wasting her breath, so she turned and left the station, knowing that she wouldn’t be believed.
Quartered
About two weeks later, Alan’s funeral was taking place at the local cemetery. It was a small cemetery with lots of green, moss-covered headstones dotted all around. Some small, tomb-like memorials broke up the lines of headstones and there was the beautiful aroma of fresh flowers all around the well-kept graveyard. All of Alan’s family were there, but they didn’t notice that Maggie was also watching the proceedings.
She knew something was going on in the town and the surrounding area and thought she might see or sense something at the funeral, especially a
s she had witnessed Alan’s demise.
Maggie noticed a blonde woman weeping near the graveside and she had the feeling that this woman was important to the events. Then she had a stroke of luck. All of the family went over to the chapel to thank the vicar, but the blonde woman decided to walk around the graveyard. Maggie saw her chance and walked along the adjoining paths through the gravestones and slowly met up with the woman.
“Hello dear.” Maggie smiled at the woman. “It’s a lovely day, but such a sad occasion.”
The woman smiled back. “Yes, it is.”
Maggie sensed the woman was about to weep, so she decided to break the potential awkwardness.
“I’m Maggie,” she said softly, holding out her hand, hoping the grieving woman would shake it. “Did you know the deceased?”
“Michelle, and yes, I did know him,” the woman answered while shaking Maggie’s outstretched palm. “I used to go out with him when we were teenagers. We fell out, as you do, but we’ve remained friends for the last twenty years.”
“Aw, that’s a nice story,” Maggie replied with a sad smile as their hands parted. She thought that this old connection could be of great importance.
“Anyway, I’d better be getting back,” Michelle uttered as she glanced towards the chapel. “It’s been nice talking to you.”
She walked slowly back to the other mourners and Maggie left the cemetery to go home.
***
Michelle returned home after the funeral and decided to take a shower. When she looked into her bathroom mirror, she let out a gasp of horror as she saw a dishevelled young boy staring back at her. Unknown to her it was the same ghostly child that had previously killed Alan, her ex-boyfriend, at the bank.
Michelle blinked and looked into the mirror again, but the boy had vanished. Did she imagine it?
Thinking that it was just her mind playing tricks on her after the stressful day she had just had, she turned on the shower. With the water flowing from the shower head, she returned to the mirror and began to wash away her make-up.
Forgotten Souls Page 2
