by Billy Young
Something appeared to move to one side. They turned without thinking, heavy sodden legs protesting, away from what ever it was.
“This is not real,” Andy sobbed as the silence descended again.
They slowed as the quiet surrounded them. Stinging, watering eyes searched as they began to walk, legs weighed down from the moisture that had soaked into their jeans from the undergrowth, trying to regain their wind. Micky wiped his face with his sleeve in some vain hope it would allow him to see more clearly.
A branch broke behind; they didn’t look around as they tore off heedlessly. Anything was better than being caught by the thing that pursued them. Andy’s longer leg took him to the front as they crashed through more reaching branches.
A light appeared in the mist. Andy instinctively changed direction towards it, with Micky following close behind, unquestioning the sudden change. Micky wasn’t happy to follow as the sound of more snapping branches came from close behind. He could almost feel the claw like fingers reaching out for him and the fear drove him on.
Out of the fog a cottage formed as the wail came again so close it sent more adrenalin coursing through their blood giving a renewed burst of speed. Andy shot onward not seeing a half collapsed fence hidden by the undergrowth as he tore forward to the safety of the house.
It felt like someone had punched him hard to the groin knocking the breath from him as the wooden barrier ripped into him. Micky crashed into his back forcing the spear like protrusion deeper into Andy’s lower abdominal region. His legs buckled unable to take his weight any longer. Blood spread downwards as the wooden lance broke and he crashed to the ground as Micky landed on top of him then rolled away.
Andy groaned as the pain slammed up into his mind as he realized something was badly wrong. Micky got to his knees then looked over to his injured friend, panic plain on his face as he saw the broken end of a wooden spar sticking out of his friend.
“Fuck, shit,” Micky didn’t know what to do as his mind race. He looked over his shoulder at the little house then back to Andy. “God, oh fuck.” He moved to the other man’s side as the fear inducing screaming continued to haunt his ears, growing ever louder. He wished he had his phone with him but always left it at home as he knew there was little point in taking it to work as he never got a connection.
“Oh shit, Micky,” Andy pleaded for help holding up his wet sticky hand which his friend took then tried to help Andy up but stopped as the injured man let out a yell of pain and his legs failed to support him.
“I’ll get help,” Micky didn’t know what else to do as he gently as he could laid his friend back onto the ground, “they must have a phone in that house. I’ll be back with help in a minute,” he added but as he looked up he saw the ghoul slowly heading towards them from the woods out of the fog. He pushed himself backwards away from his wounded friend. He turned and rising onto his feet, stumbling to the waiting rear doorway his fear growing, panic setting in as he fought it to remain in control.
He banged with all his might, no answer came. He tried the handle finding the door unlocked he pushed it open. “Hello, hello,” how was he going to explain, “we need help!” His voice echoed back to him from the poorly lit interior as he stepped in through the door to the cottage.
Chapter 17
She circled the figure struggling to vainly pull himself along the ground, to escape her. Tears of fear and pain ran freely down the young man’s face mixing with the dirt that covered one cheek causing the muck to streak.
“Please,” he pleaded as he tried to stem the flow of oozing blood from the deep wound with one hand as he looked into the gloating eyes that now peered down at him.
She stooped down in front of him, kneeing beside him menacingly, savouring his fear. Reaching out with her claw like hand she touched the red stained wood sticking from his lower regions. She withdrew her blood stained fingers putting it to her wide gaping mouth. Her long dry, cracked looking tongue slowly licked at her talon as if to taste his blood.
Andy reached up to his neck, grasping his chain hidden under his clothing. As he gripped the chain the crucifix attached to it was pulled out from under his jumper and came to rest on his chest; the silver glinted in the strange light of the mist.
She watched angrily as her fun, her prize was so easily taken away from her, when her reward was so close. She reached up threateningly, her claws splayed wide as if she were about to strike.
Andy’s eyes opened fully, bulging as a cold dread seeped deep into his mind. His hand moved to the cross looking for some small comfort.
“No, please,” his voice was barely audible.
Her head fell back as she let loose her glorious, wonderful; terrifying scream then swung her claws menacingly within inches of Andy’s face. The full force she held back not wanting to waste her energy any longer on this weak pathetic creature.
He held his breathe unconsciously whilst he tried hard to force his eyelids to close so the horror of the vision before him could go unseen as it did what it wanted to his defenceless frame.
She turned away from him with disdain, no longer interested in him, happy with the thought that his death would not be long and he would die alone. She headed for the house the one inside would just have to do, after all one new trinket to her collection was better than none.
Andy released his breathe then sucked in more of the damp cold night air as he watched the creature drift silently towards the small house. When it vanished from sight he tried to pull himself along the ground to get away incase it came back to finish off the job but found himself to weak from the loss of blood so simply slumped onto the ground.
Chapter 18
Micky looked around the dimly lit room. Only a single candle gave light to the small room from its position near the curtainless window, poorly reflected on the grimy small square glass pane above the old sink with a pump handled water faucet, straight out of the nineteenth century. The room was bare, other than the candle, making it look abandoned and unused but he needed help for Andy so stepped into the room closing the door behind him without thinking.
“Hello!” He called out tentatively hoping for someone to aid him. Only silence returned once the echoes of his greeting died away.
He moved forwards further into the small dank smelling bare room. If it hadn’t been for the candle he would have been sure this small house was empty. The floor creaked at each step making him feel cautious.
He turned, panic rising as the dreadful screeching howl of the thing slammed his senses from outside. He quickened his stride as he crossed the space to two doors that offered the possibility of some assistance.
“Hello!” He tried again as he opened the closest of the openings. Beyond lay a dark uninviting passageway, “hello, is anybody there!”
Again no answer came to his waiting ears. ‘Fuck,’ he thought, ‘where is someone.’ He started down the narrow corridor realizing he now was walking on a hard stone floor as his footsteps echoed around him. He stopped unsure what to do as the darkness enclosed him. He turned back to the door and the small dim light that the room offered.
He re-entered through the aperture to the space he’d started. As he pushed his way through the doorway, a young girl that he judged to be, about fourteen stepped in front of him, as the door closed behind.
She seemed to be dressed strangely in a long gown that reached nearly to her ankles, wide at the hips which made it look old like some sort of period costume. She cocked her head to one side as if she were interested in why he was there.
“Hello,” he said, “can you help me? My friend needs help.”
“You can’t go out there; didn’t you hear the witch’s banshee,” she said quietly as a smile spread mischievously across her pretty face. He barely noticed it in the faint light.
“But Andy, my mate needs help. Have you got a phone?” he pleaded.
“No, and it’s too late for him if he’s out there with the banshee. There’s nothing to be done till the morn
ing,” she reached out touching him on the chest suggestively.
Micky brushed her hand away then took hold of her by the shoulders in the hope of getting her to help. “You don’t understand he’s hurt and I can’t just leave him out there we’ve got to do something to help him,” he again tried to get the girl to understand that they, he couldn’t just stand there waiting till morning with Andy lying outside hurt. Guilt edged its way through his mind at leaving his buddy out there to the mercy of the wailing abominable thing that had chased them through the forest. Fear though was greater, preventing him from going alone.
“And I told you there nothing to be done,” she said angrily pushing him away with more force than he thought the small girl could possibly muster.
He fell back against the other door, surprised at her strength, it groaned at the unexpected weight coming to rest against it. “But we can’t just stay here,” he tried again, not understanding her reluctance to help him.
“What else can you do? After all you left him out there, didn’t you?” She sounded irritated.
“I know but I thought I could get help and now you don’t want to help. Why?” He put his hands out as if in supplication.
“Enough of your friend,” she said moving closer to him suggestively.
“No,” it was his turn to push her away, “I need you to help.”
Seething look of annoyance flashed in her eyes. “And what do you want me to do? It was you that left him out there.”
He shook his head not knowing how to answer her accusing tone. How was he going to help Andy, he was too afraid to go outside by himself but she seemed to know what it was that had chased them through the woods.
“I know, I know,” he said sounding as lost as he felt. It suddenly occurred to him he still had no idea where he was or who this strangely dress girl was, “by the way where are we?”
“Does it matter?”
He felt that she was being evasive. “I just thought if you’ve got neighbours near by maybe they could help.”
“No neighbours,” he thought he saw a smile as she said this.
His shoulder slouched as it sank in that he couldn’t aid his friend. “It’s probably too late for Andy now anyway, isn’t it?”
“Yes,” she moved closer to him again.
“Who are you by the way? I don’t think I’ve ever seen you before,” he’d thought he knew just about everybody around New Mills and surrounding area yet had never seen her before.
“Never mind who I am,” she said placing one finger on his chest, “we’ve got plenty of time to get to know one another.”
“Wow, hold on there I can’t stay here,” he stepped back against the door his hand reached behind him searching for the handle unsure where he could go but sure he couldn’t stay here with this young girl.
“But you aren’t going anywhere,” as she said this his hand found the handle. He turned it as the girl began to change before him. Terror rose as the girl became the thing that had pursued them in the mist emitting the same chilling scream. He pulled at the door but as he tried to twist through the opening she screamed and in one motion pushed her hand into his chest grasping hold of his hearts soul.
His body fell back, down to the damp cellar. He didn’t shout out, there was no time for she had ripped his life force from its shell. Though he had felt the pain as she took his life it was too quick for his physical form to cry out in protest. His spirit screams but only seemed to add to the screech the grotesque creature filled the air with as the thing held his soul firmly in her grasp.
He tried to get out of the grip that held him but to no avail. She carried him into the cellar through to her secret place.
“In you go with the others,” she said as she pushed him through the lid of the jar, imprisoning him as she had done to her other trophies her mark glowing faintly on the cork stopper as he was deposited into the glass vessel.
She watched him for a while as he pleaded to be released as had the others when she had added them to her collection. She felt her darkness ease as she gloatingly ran one of her talons down the glass.
After a short time of this she tired of it, turned leaving the jar on its plinth. Into the basement she passed and took her solid form to gather the corpse that lay at the foot of the old wooden stairway.
She lifted it with little effort onto her shoulder. Up to her kitchen then out to where Andy still lay bleeding, gasping for air as his life ebbed away. She dumped Micky’s lifeless form near to his friend.
“Please,” Andy whispered, almost inaudibly. She ignored him leaving him to die with Micky’s cold form near by, alone.
Andy watched her go, shuddering as he heard the door close with a creak then a loud thud. He no longer noticed the chill as he inhaled the cold foggy night air for the last time. His hand slid away from his upper body; leaving his crucifix lying, gleaming in the strange misty light of the night, on his chest as his sightless eyes watched his spirit rise from the container that had house it in life.
He looked around unsure where he should go till he saw the bright light shining from the woods. He slowly at first moved towards the warmth the white light offered then he heard his grandfather’s voice calling to him from the brightness. He picked up his pace and began to race to the loved ones waiting for him.
She saw the light from the kitchen yet knew it was not for her and never could be for she was the vengeance, the judge; there was no place in the light for her, only the wonder of the night.
Chapter 19
The unmarked police car came to a halt, as the sun burned away the last of the mist from the previous night, behind the large blue plain transit van used by forensics on the narrow farm track. Detective John Munroe climbed out as his younger colleague turned off the engine then joined him as he walked towards the police tape around the old derelict cottage. A uniformed officer nodded as he lifted the tape to allow access to the site for the senior ranking officers.
“It’s round the back, sir,” the uniformed figure said pointing down a path already cleared to make it easier to get to the scene of crime.
John gave a quick nod of his head then with his partner following close behind made his way round the small ramshackle structure to the rear overgrown garden. As he turned the corner of the building he heard the sound of the photographer clicking away so none of the evidence would be lost and so they could build a time frame of the events.
He carefully approached a figure, he recognized as his good friend Dr Winters, leaning over something he took to be a body. As he got closer he could make out that what his friend was examining was the corpse of a man in his late twenties. He could see no visible signs of injury, not far from this he speedily took in the very different corpse of a younger man clearly lying in a pool of his own blood with something spear like extending from his lower abdomen.
“So what have we got Winters?” John asked less from curiosity than for something to say.
“Two male caucasains, the younger one over there seems to have died due to exsanguination but this one I’ll not really be able to tell you much about till the autopsy as there are no visible marks to suggest cause of death,” Winters state in his usual factual manner.
“So we’ve got one murder and one possible?” John put it as a question though was already in his own mind summing it up.
“It’s a bit early to say that. No at the moment it looks like the younger one fell or possibly was pushed onto that fence impaling himself. We’ll need to gather the evidence first before making any conclusions,” Winters knew John though just wanted some quick answers as he always did yet seldom got to his chagrin.
“So some sort of weird accident then?” John’s younger associate asked from behind him.
“Well that’s still to be determined we’ll not know for sure till all the facts of the case are looked over,” the doctor looked at the other officer then back at his old friend, “but on what I can determine so far it could be but don’t hold me to that just yet.”
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“No surprises there then,” John smiled knowing this was the normal way thing went with Winters, always making things more difficult than they needed to be for him.
“Do we know who they are?” John wanted to get on with the investigation.
“Yes, I’d like you to meet Micky Chambers and his friend over there is Andy McArthur,” Winters said theatrically.
“Who found them?” John looked around to see if he could spot the subject of his question.
“Some guy walking his dog. They had to take him home though as he was really shook up,” the doctor had been ready for this enquiry.
“Is there anything else we know about them so far?”
“Well, I thought that was you’re job to tell me,” the doctor answered eyebrows raised in an inquiring manner.
“Okay, I’ll leave you to it then,” John had seen enough and knew that he wouldn’t get anything more from Winters so made his way to have a closer look at the other body.
“You know the local myth about this place don’t you?” John’s subordinate queried.
“You mean the witches ghost? Yeah, I’ve heard it before,” John nodded, “Got told about it back in the seventies when I first got assigned around these parts. The old sergeant was one of the officers called out to this place back in sixty eight when a bunch of druggies tried to make this into their commune and overdose here or something. It was never really solved so the locals put it down to this place being haunted. A load of shit, if you ask me though.”
“So what do you think happened to the druggies then?”
“Probably overdosed as I said but you know what locals are like,” John said dismissively as he glanced down at Andy’s still form.
“Didn’t one of them survive?”
“Yeah, a girl but apparently she had amnesia or so she claimed when she came to in the hospital,” John had been interested in the story when he first arrived but now it all seemed to far fetched to him. He never could work out why the girl hadn’t been question more thoroughly at the time.
