A Death Displaced
Page 15
When she turned back, Grendel Manor was tiny; they were definitely far away enough to not be heard.
There was a small group of trees that offered shelter from the wintry wind. They headed into them, and Tommy pushed Aldrich down against the trunk of one. Tom placed the throw over him.
‘I won’t tell you anything unless you take this blindfold off.’ Aldrich murmured. ‘Take it off, I need my eyes. I want to see. Take it off, take it off.’
Juliet couldn’t place his accent at all. It was very slight; the occasional elongation of a word, the occasional roll of the tongue. Nothing matched up about Aldrich Grendel.
She thought about when they first knocked on his door today: he was polite for a fraction of time, then spoke in a pompous tone, showing only contempt. Now he was a snivelling wreck, his voice a strangled, helpless whine.
‘Juliet, if you stay out of sight, then we can take his blindfold off.’ Nick said, ‘We should be fine.’
‘How do you know he can’t control the twins?’ she asked as if they weren’t present.
‘Because if he could, then he would have used his ability on them earlier, instead of you. Again, no offence, but look at the muscles on Tommy.’ he awkwardly laughed.
‘Okay, but be ready to cover his eyes if he tries anything.’ she suggested. She walked off through the trees and found a fallen trunk to sit on.
She took out her mobile to check the time. It was 12:42 pm. She bitterly thought, Oh how time flies when you’re having fun. But what was the point in sulking? She mentally chided herself for being so resentful.
Although not hungry yet, she sensed inchoate emptiness in her stomach. Well, she didn’t know if it was that or if it was unsettled from the fear of seeing Aldrich with a shotgun pointed at Nick’s head. For breakfast, she’d had muesli with added fruit and low fat yoghurt. That was at about 7.30am, so maybe it was incipient hunger she felt.
She hadn’t thought about Samantha Crystan’s appearance since it happened. Samantha had literally zapped in and out of this world to save her sons. She said she didn’t have time to stay before. How did she manage to appear again? There was a lot Juliet didn’t know about the Spiritworld.
She realised that they had left the shotgun in the manor on the step. Was that a mistake? She didn’t know, but she couldn’t exactly go and alert them now, not until she was sure that Aldrich was blindfolded again.
All she could do was sit and wait.
Then she saw a glimmer of light. It bobbed through the air.
Like a firefly, or a little fairy.
It swirled around the trees and branches as if to get her attention. She stood up and walked towards it, fascinated by its beauty. Then it trailed through the trees… guiding her, taking her down a mysterious path.
Chapter 15
Autumn leaves covered the ground; some whipped about occasionally as the wind wended through the trees. Nick looked down at Aldrich sat against a tree trunk. Looking at him made his blood run; he still shook from almost having his head blown off.
Aldrich had tried to kill him repeatedly now, and Nick was certain that Aldrich played a foul hand in his mum’s disappearance. Once he found out what that hand was, he wasn’t sure how he would react.
The blindfold still covered Aldrich’s eyes. Nick came towards him, slowly, and knelt beside him, readying his hand to lift the blindfold.
‘If you try your trick on my brothers, I’ll blindfold you again.’ his jaw was clenched as he spoke, he already hated the man.
He lifted the blindfold, and Tom seemed to take an instinctual step away. Tommy stood strong and glared at Aldrich.
Tom moved back some more and shouted, ‘Nick!’ he grabbed at his head, ‘I can feel him inside my head. He’s trying to get in.’
A second later, Tommy chimed in, ‘He’s tryin’ it on me too. Cover his eyes.’
With an impatient huff, Nick yanked the blindfold back over Aldrich’s eyes.
‘I’m not telling you anything. Take the blindfold off. Take it off. I won’t answer any questions.’ Aldrich wriggled side to side, kicking at the earth.
‘Yeah, I know.’ Nick said harshly, and thought, Bloody broken record you are.
He rose to his feet. ‘Would you two go out of sight, maybe each go to opposite ends of the manor and keep an eye out in case anyone comes?’
Tommy’s face screwed up indignantly, ‘No. I wanna hear what he says about Mum.’
‘I’d like to hear too.’ Tom added.
‘I know, but he’s not going to talk with the blindfold on. Please, just go, I’ll tell you everything he says.’ Nick felt odd talking about Aldrich as if he wasn’t there, tied up, blindfolded, bloody and bruised.
‘No, I’m stayin’. I can keep him outta my head, I bet yuh.’ Tommy said with frustrating finality.
Nick shouted, ‘Tommy, just go!’
‘What makes yuh think you’re boss of this family, Nick? Talkin’ to Dad like shit, makin’ decisions for us. I can do what I like.’ his voice outshouted Nick with ease.
Nick went heavy with guilt at the mention of the argument with his dad, but part of why he was here was for his dad. He needed to know the truth. He wanted to find the closure for his dad; John deserved to move on.
‘Tommy, you saw what he did to Juliet. I don’t want to risk it. What if he managed to control you, and you did something to Tom or me, or to Juliet? How guilty would you feel?’
‘Pffftt, he can’t control me.’ he replied, and gave Aldrich a scornful glare.
‘Please, Tommy.’ Nick tried a reasonable tone.
Tom spoke up then, ‘Tommy, let’s just go. Nick wouldn’t keep anything from us. It’s better not to risk it, like he said, let’s just go keep a look out.’
Tommy relaxed his stance a bit, then said, ‘Whatever, but I wanna know everythin’ he tells yuh.’ He stropped away without another word, and Nick nodded to Tom in thanks. He returned a weak smile.
Worry swam in Nick’s mind. Part of him wanted to run away, another part wanted to cry, and the rest of him just wanted Aldrich to spill the beans already, and then vanish out of existence.
He began to pace back and forth, tapping the centre of his left palm repeatedly. I’m calm, I’m focused, I’m calm, I’m focused.
‘Are you going to take this off of me?’ Aldrich caught him by surprise, and he jumped.
‘Yeah,’ he answered, half-heartedly. He pulled the blindfold up so it rested on Aldrich’s forehead. It pushed his mop-ish curly fringe up, like a school-boy’s gelled quiff. Nick noticed how much Aldrich’s head had swollen with bruising; it was horrifically distorted. Oddly, he felt very little guilt.
The question of his mum’s disappearance was the most important one, but he had many things he wanted to ask Aldrich. Here was another person with some form of higher ability, and Nick yearned to know more about it.
He wanted to know how Aldrich gained control over his power, where it came from, if it took practice, and how long he’d been able to do it. The list of things he wanted to ask gave him a frisson, mixed with worry and impatience.
‘How do you control other people’s actions?’ he asked.
‘I see their minds.’
That’s too simple. ‘Care to elaborate?’ he pushed.
‘A web, patterns… little pockets, shapes, colours, all sorts. I see their minds. Not tiny brains. Their minds, larger than their head, seeps into their bodies, hovers around them. Intentions.’ he spoke slowly, plodding over each word.
Nick frowned, confused, ‘You’re not making sense.’
‘I can’t see yours. Not exactly. I can sense it. I can’t penetrate it.’ he smiled sardonically.
‘Penetrate it? My mind?’
‘I see people’s minds, I see the patterns, I place my will inside of those brains, those minds, those patterns. I fiddle, immerse myself, tamper, and edit memories. All is different inside one’s mind. Time doesn’t exist, not there. All memories are there for access, for editing, for planting seeds.�
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It was droning to listen to Aldrich, and Nick resented that he had so much he wanted to ask.
‘Editing?’
‘It takes some time. I can sift through a mind and plant intentions. Change beliefs. Destroy memories. Distort realities.’
The thought of it caused an aversion in Nick’s body. It was so immoral, invasive and just… wrong.
‘And, what do you mean you can’t see my mind?’
‘I can see it, in a sense. But I can’t see the patterns. Your mind is all-encompassing; it’s connected to the fabric surrounding us, the fabric of time and space. Your mind is everywhere at once.’ Aldrich answered with a cryptic flash of his eyes.
Nick felt weak suddenly, and took a moment to lean on a tree.
He thought about when he brought the vision upon himself earlier today. How he had made it work: he imagined himself as a tree, spreading outwards, entwining himself with the universe, being connected to everything. It was that state of being that brought on the vision, the vision that turned out to be not entirely correct.
Maybe Aldrich could sense Nick’s ability? Was that what he ‘saw’ when he looked at Nick’s mind? Is that how Nick could see the future? Because his mind was connected to the ‘fabric’ of time and space?
It annoyed him that even if that was the case, the vision that he’d had earlier wasn’t accurate. In that vision, Aldrich was on the floor, unconscious, when they returned to the manor; but when they actually did return, he was prepared for them, waiting with a shotgun.
Nick’s ability had saved Juliet’s life the first time, but this second time it had almost got them all killed. He knew he was glad to have the ability, to be ‘special’, but he craved to gain control over it. How could he trust his visions when so far there had been major consequences?
‘My brothers... you can’t seem to control them fully; what do their minds look like to you?’
‘Similar to yours, but closer to their physical bodies. I saw some of their patterns. I could have controlled them. Would have taken more time. Effort. They are not like you. Their minds are different to others, and so is yours, but yours is more complex,’ then Aldrich said reprovingly, ‘yours is out of my reach.’
Why were his brothers’ minds different? Do they have the ability I have? Maybe they have it, but to a different degree? This was yet another mystery to put on his list.
‘Why did you try to use your ability to get Juliet and me to hand over our valuables? You obviously have a lot of money… look at your manor.’ he asked, perplexed.
‘I get whatever I can from anyone who comes to my door. Why not? I love free stuff. Mobile phones are fun. Private texts. Surprising how many people have naked pictures of themselves on their mobiles. Some people, I make them give me their clothes. Sometimes, I trance them into sexual favours. Mind wipe. They don’t remember anything.’
Nick cringed at the thought of it. If he hadn’t been immune to Aldrich’s ability, he and Juliet may have been subjected to that. He wanted to call Aldrich all sorts of names: pervert, sicko, rapist. But it wouldn’t have helped or progressed things.
‘Have you always had this ability or did you gain it somehow?’ asked Nick.
‘It was a gift.’
‘Someone passed it down to you?’ it was difficult for him to imagine someone or something bestowing such a gift. Surely it was impossible?
‘A gift from Moloch.’ Aldrich’s voice was heavy and full of homage when he said Moloch.
Moloch? That sounds familiar. Nick mused over where he’d heard it before. Then he remembered. When he’d researched mythology on the internet, he’d found a link to another website. He’d read about Moloch but didn’t pay much attention.
Moloch was some sort of ancient god, worshipped by Canaanites and Phoenicians. Nick had found artist representations of the god; he was large and horned like a bull, or possibly even had a bull’s head. Then Nick recalled the worst part: in the past, worshippers used to sacrifice children by fire to Moloch.
‘Are you referring to the ancient god: Moloch?’
‘Who else could I mean?’ Aldrich acted offended.
‘But Moloch isn’t real.’
Aldrich made a fierce attempt to shake free his tied arms; he groaned and wriggled, then gave up, ‘Moloch is my master! I do His bidding.’
You do his bidding…? It all fit into place then.
‘Katie Baker. You kidnapped her.’ Nick said, askance.
It felt noticeably colder all of a sudden, and oh so still, like the trees had stopped their rustling to hear Aldrich’s response. Aldrich looked frightened, and then he smiled a wicked grimace. ‘She was a gift to Moloch.’ he said proudly.
A pungent twist in Nick’s stomach made him feel sick. Saliva started to fill his mouth, and he wished he hadn’t figured it out.
‘Children have been disappearing on this island every ten years or so,’ Nick began, struggling not to shake, ‘it couldn’t have been you all those times. You don’t look much older than thirty.’
‘I’m older than I look. Moloch grants me many gifts.’
Nick didn’t believe any of this Moloch business. Even though he’d meditated in the past in an attempt to meet deities, did he ever really believe in any form of gods? Or a singular god? He wasn’t so sure. Maybe at the time he was just desperate, craving to believe in anything.
But Moloch… he simply couldn’t believe in him; in the existence of a god so evil.
Aldrich could have been born with his ability, and maybe part of his ability was longevity, or even immortality, but Nick was certain that Aldrich was delusional about his beloved god.
It made sense that Aldrich was older than he looked. His accent was fleeting and unplaceable, his name didn’t match his appearance, and the way he spoke was muddled. He could have been worshipping his imaginary god for hundreds of years. Maybe more. All those poor children.
‘You burnt them all alive?’ Nick asked through tense lips.
‘No. They go into the light.’
‘What?’
‘I used to burn them, centuries ago. Then Moloch appeared to me, personally. Yes. Personally. He demands that they go into the light.’
That confirmed his suspicions; Aldrich had been sacrificing children for centuries. Maybe not all on Lansin Island, but still… they were children.
Aldrich spoke some more, ‘Their own parents sacrificed them. Mr and Mrs Baker led their daughter into the light.’
But Mr and Mrs Baker made appearances in the media, begging for information on their daughter’s whereabouts, Nick thought. They were still searching for her. Mora had shown him the newspaper roughly a week ago.
‘You did it, didn’t you? You used your mind-trick on her parents. You forced them to sacrifice their own child, and they don’t remember a thing.’ he clenched his fist. ‘You’re sick and disgusting.’
‘Moloch demands it. Parents must do the deed.’ Aldrich actually laughed and shrugged his shoulders as if to say, ‘I don’t make the rules’.
Nick paced back and forth, ‘Moloch isn’t real you delusional freak!’
A sharp barking noise escaped Aldrich’s mouth. He spat towards Nick. The spit fell short of him, but managed to infuriate Nick some more.
The urge to beat Aldrich, to make him suffer, was almost overwhelming. He wasn’t sure if he could fight it off. Why could people like Aldrich get away with such monstrous things, when someone like Nick received a beating for trying to do the right thing, like stopping Alan from stealing?
He began to tap the palm of his left hand again, fast and hard. I’M CALM, I’M FOCUSED, I’M CALM, I’M FOCUSED! It didn’t work.
He thought maybe the best plan to distract his anger might be to ask more questions, to keep the ‘conversation’ flowing. What could he say though? All he could do was judge this disgusting man.
‘Think of all the good you could have done with your power.’ Nick felt that he had to say it, ‘You could have changed the minds of the world’s
most evil people. You could erase a paedophile’s intentions, change their life completely and save a lot of suffering, you could change someone’s limiting thoughts and behaviours. You could destroy evil intentions in anyone’s head; get people out of prison but with a fresh mind free from hate or criminal intentions. Maybe you could even use your ability to cure someone’s mental illness. But instead, you destroy lives, you sacrifice innocent children!’
It tired him thinking of all the suffering that Aldrich could have stopped, but his conscience nagged at him.
Would it be ethical to invade anyone’s mind at all? Even if your goal was to cure them of their murderous tendencies? A human has the right to their own private thoughts. Is it wrong to take away that right? If the world knew about Aldrich, would or could they even use his power ethically?
Nick had thought that he had a good sense of ‘right’ and ‘wrong’, but this tested him. Maybe thinking in terms of ethical or unethical was easier. Or harder. Or maybe these labels didn’t matter, and it was purely a being’s intention that mattered. Giving out love or giving out hate?
Aldrich shouted, ‘Only Moloch tells me what to do. I do His bidding!’
‘Yeah, yeah, I know. You’ve told me already.’ Nick said, exhausted. There was still so much he wanted to ask but he didn’t think he could handle the answers for much longer.
‘How do you… pick people? Do you ever leave the manor to find your victims?’
‘It’s a fun game.’ Aldrich was sinister and smiling, blood crusted down his face, ‘Moloch doesn’t ask often, he expects one every ten years or so. Give or take some years. If I get the chance, I sacrifice more than that. As often as I like. It was easier in the past. There are places in the world where it would go unnoticed, but Lansin Island is where Moloch wants me. This is his home for now. Where I worship him. To pick my victims, I have methods. But let me ask you something first.’ he glowered at Nick, ‘Are you going to kill me?’
The air stopped in Nick’s throat. He was stuck for words. The thought hadn’t even crossed his mind. Kill him? Murder? No, I couldn’t. But he couldn’t turn him in to the authorities either; as much as he wanted to. Mr and Mrs Baker needed closure, and so did the other parents from across the years... but could Nick tell them about all this?