The Hill - Ben’s Story (Book One).: A Paranormal Murder Mystery Thriller. (Book One).

by Andrew M Stafford

  By now he was able to recall the names of those who had been close to him. He remembered the names of his parents, his brother Michael, many of his friends and of course Liz. But the name of the boy who had dropped the rock eluded him.

  Whoever his killer had been was most likely still alive. Perhaps he’d been caught and was imprisoned for what he had done, or he could still be free and killing others.

  The more he thought about the killer and the others who had attacked Liz, the more he thought he was in limbo. He didn’t imagine eternity to be like this. He was trapped in solitary confinement. He considered himself to be a good person and didn’t understand why he’d ended up in a place like this to spend eternity. It didn’t make sense.

  Perhaps he was in limbo for a reason. If his killer had never been caught then his memories could be the only evidence.

  Maybe there was a way he could get a message out about his death? But how? He was frustrated and had no way of communicating.

  It was as if he was on a conveyor belt, going round and round unable to get anywhere. He was angry. He only wanted to be heard, he had to get his message across and the more he thought about it the angrier he became. The anger felt real, just as if he were alive. It bubbled and stewed and was poisoning his soul. The anger was creating energy. It was a new energy he’d not sensed before. As anger consumed him the new energy force became stronger and stronger until he could bear it no longer. Whatever this new energy was, it was hurting and he could feel real pain.

  The energy force reached a climax and he did something he thought was impossible.

  He screamed at the top of his voice.

  Chapter fifty seven

  Maria’s flat

  10.45pm

  Friday 14th October

  Campbell sat alone in the lounge sipping his coffee. He could hear Maria over the baby monitor trying to settle Christopher.

  Maria placed him back in his cot and Christopher lay still for a few seconds. Slowly he opened his mouth, screwed up his tired eyes and let out a most hideous scream. The scream went on and on.

  Maria covered her ears as she helplessly watched her son screaming at the very top of his voice.

  He was screaming until the last of the air in his lungs had gone.

  Afterwards he lay in his cot, silent and still.

  Campbell ran into Christopher’s room.

  “What’s happening?” he asked as he came through the door.

  “I don’t know sobbed Maria, my son’s just not normal.” She threw her arms around Campbell, buried her head into his shoulder and cried.

  Campbell had never heard a noise like it from a child. It sounded like a primal scream which went on and on.

  Maria turned to Christopher. He lay quietly and slept. He looked peaceful. Other than his chest rising and dropping he was perfectly still.

  “What on earth was that?” said Maria.

  Campbell had no idea and decided it was best not to answer.

  Maria stroked Christopher’s head, covered him and made him comfortable.

  His scream was ringing in her ears and she couldn’t get it out of her head. It sounded as if it had come from someone else, not her baby boy. How on earth could her son have created such a blood curdling sound? It didn’t seem possible that a thirteen month old child would have had the ability to do such a thing. It sounded so ‘grown up’.

  Campbell thought about what he’d just heard. Christopher’s scream sounded like someone yelling as they fell to their death from the top of a building.

  Both of them stood over his cot and watched him sleep without saying a word.

  Maria tapped Campbell on the shoulder and indicated that they should leave Christopher on his own.

  They sat together in the lounge without talking.

  Then the head banging started again. But this time it was different. Much different.

  Chapter fifty eight

  The Awareness

  He was shocked at what he’d just done and felt better for doing it. He had just screamed at the top of his voice. But how could this be as he had no voice? But even so, it had seemed so real that he was certain he could hear it. And the pain, he had felt pain when he could no longer sustain the scream.

  He thought about what he’d just done and wondered if he could do it again. His energy was fading and he didn’t have the strength to try.

  He was sure that what he’d just learnt to do was important. It had allowed him to vent his anger and this made him feel better.

  He recalled the last memory of him and Liz kissing at the bottom of the hill and again the memory seamlessly carried on until his life ended.

  He needed to be heard. He wanted someone, anyone, to hear his voice. He started a little four word mantra with his thoughts. Slowly, one by one each word appeared in his mind.

  Please – Hear – My – Voice.

  And again,

  Please – Hear – My – Voice.

  And again,

  Please – Hear – My – Voice.

  And again,

  Please – Hear – My – Voice.

  Repeating the four words over and over in his thoughts made him feel good. It almost made him happy.

  As he repeated the words he visualised the last seconds before he died. The happy feeling instantly changed to anger again. The same anger he’d felt when he screamed.

  He recalled the memory of his death and recited the four words in his thoughts. The more he repeated them, the angrier he became.

  Again the anger was creating energy, the same energy as when he screamed.

  Just as before, the anger developed into a bitter poison which burnt like acid. The angrier he was the more intense the four words became.

  Please – Hear – My – Voice, Please – Hear – My – Voice, Please – Hear – My – Voice, Please – Hear – My – Voice, Please – Hear – My – Voice.

  Now he couldn’t stop. The anger felt good and repeating the four words felt even better. It was almost joyous.

  Please – Hear – My – Voice, Please – Hear – My – Voice, Please – Hear – My – Voice, Please – Hear – My – Voice, Please – Hear – My – Voice. Please – Hear – My – Voice, Please – Hear – My – Voice, Please – Hear – My – Voice, Please – Hear – My – Voice, Please – Hear – My – Voice.

  Chapter fifty nine

  Maria’s flat

  11.02pm

  “I think it might be best if I go,” said Campbell with a solemn voice.

  “Please don’t,” replied Maria with an air of desperation.

  “Would you mind staying a little longer? I’m a bit shaken after what has happened and I wouldn’t mind your company.”

  Campbell nodded and put his hand on hers.

  And then it started. Christopher was banging his head and chanting. But this time it was different. His tone was different and he wasn’t chanting the usual ‘ughh ughh ughh ughh ughh ughh ughh ughh ughh’.

  He was repeating a rhythmic four beat chant and it sounded completely different to ‘ughh’. Each bit of the chant sounded different.

  Maria stared at the monitor as if she was looking at her son.

  “This isn’t the same, he’s never made this noise before.”

  Campbell didn’t answer. He strained as he listened.

  Over the monitor his voice sounded thin and tinny. Maria quietly stood up and motioned to Campbell to follow.

  They crept out to the hall and across to his room. Maria slowly pushed his door open and watched from the edge of the room. Campbell stood behind her in the hall.

  It was as if he was singing a little monosyllabic song as he banged his head.

  “Get your phone, film him before he stops,” whispered Campbell, “You may need to play this to the health visitor.”

  Maria nodded and crept back to the lounge and returned with her phone.

  Christopher’s room was dark and the little lens on her phone wasn’t picking up a very clear image. Maria turned the bedroo
m light up a little. The video may not be picking up a very clear image, but it was recording the sound of his chanting.

  Maria put her phone down so she could pick him up. She tried to wake him, but he continued to chant as he banged his head against her shoulder.

  “What should I do?” whispered Maria.

  Campbell was stuck for words.

  “Perhaps you should let him sleep, he doesn’t seem bothered by what he’s doing.”

  Campbell was right, although Christopher was banging his head and chanting, he didn’t seem distressed, not like he’d been when he was screaming.

  She lay him back in his cot and let him carry on.

  They returned to the lounge. Maria glanced at Campbell. He looked tired. This was the last thing he’d expected and, after the death of his father, it was probably the last thing he wanted.

  “You can go if you want,” she whispered.

  “Not if you don’t want me to.”

  She smiled and squeezed his hand.

  They sat together in silence for over an hour and listened to Christopher as they held hands.

  “Listen,” whispered Campbell.

  “What?”

  Campbell put his finger to his lips and made a quick shushing sound.

  He strained as he listened to Christopher’s voice over the monitor. Campbell stood up and tiptoed to Christopher’s room. Maria followed.

  Campbell opened the door, walked over to cot and knelt down close to the little boy.

  “What is it?” whispered Maria.

  Again, Campbell signalled for her to be quiet.

  “Listen,” he whispered.

  Maria listened, but she didn’t know what she was supposed to be hearing.

  “It’s as if he’s saying something.”

  Maria concentrated.

  The four rhythmic noises he was repeating had begun to sound distinct. Together they crouched down and listened closely.

  Maria grabbed her phone which she’d left by his cot and filmed him again.

  After she’d turned her phone off she knelt even closer to her son.

  “You’re right, he’s saying four words over and over.”

  Campbell nodded.

  “He’s barely a year old, what on earth can he be doing?”

  Campbell shushed her again.

  “That third bit of the chant, it sounds like he’s saying meee.”

  “That’s what he calls his favourite toy Misty,” said Maria.

  “Hang on, it’s different to what he calls Misty, he’s not saying ‘meee’, it sounds more like ‘my’.”

  Campbell nodded.

  “You’re right, it does sound like ‘my’.”

  They sat in silence for a few more minutes and were gobsmacked by the regularity and precise way he was chanting. Every third sound was definitely ‘my’.

  “That first noise he’s making, it starts with a popping sound,” said Maria.

  “It sounds like ‘p’ or ‘puu’.”

  Campbell nodded.

  “And it’s ending with a kind of ‘eese’ sound.”

  Maria closed her eyes and cleared her mind to concentrate on what she was hearing.

  “He’s saying ‘peas’.”

  Campbell shook his head.

  “I don’t think he’s saying peas, listen again.”

  They sat together on the bedroom floor focusing on the first noise of the sequence.

  “There’s a ‘lu’ in there, listen carefully” whispered Campbell.

  “Where?”

  “It’s really faint, but it’s right after the ‘puu’.”

  And then Maria could hear it. A very faint ‘lu’ sound which came right after the ‘puu’.

  “It sounds like he’s saying ‘please’,” she whispered.

  Campbell nodded.

  The more Christopher repeated, the clearer it became. It was like an aural version of a magic eye picture. The more they concentrated the clearer things became.

  “That’s two words we can hear, ‘please’ and ‘my’,” said Maria as she pushed her hair away from her face.

  She was right. They could both hear ‘please’ followed by a less distinguished sound, followed by a crystal clear ‘my’ followed by another less distinguished sound. He repeated over and over without a break. He’d been chanting for over half an hour.

  “How many words are in his vocabulary?” asked Campbell.

  “I’m not sure, a good twenty or so.”

  “Let’s go back to the lounge and have a chat.”

  Maria followed Campbell back to the lounge. Campbell shut the door and sat next to her on the settee.

  “Tell me the words he can say.”

  Maria began to reel off the words in his vocabulary, “mee, that was his first word and it’s what he calls his favourite toy.”

  Campbell nodded.

  Maria looked towards the ceiling in an effort to remember.

  “And he can say ‘mama’ and ‘nana’ and ‘duck’ and ‘Sam’.”

  “Sam, who is Sam?” interrupted Campbell.

  “Oh he’s trying to say ‘Samreen’.”

  Campbell nodded and Maria continued.

  Maria recalled around twenty basic words. Most of them weren’t proper words, but were more like attempts at words. He had tried to say the names of his friends from Joe Jingles, but could not pronounce any of them correctly.

  “So he hasn’t said ‘please’ or ‘my’ before?”

  Maria shook her head.

  “Nor strung together any words to make a sentence?”

  Maria looked at him incredulously.

  “Sentences? He’s only thirteen months old.”

  Campbell shrugged his shoulders.

  Christopher was still banging his head and chanting. They stopped talking and continued to listen.

  “Would you like another coffee?” asked Campbell.

  Maria smiled and nodded. Hers had gone cold.

  Campbell disappeared into the kitchen and shut the door behind him. Maria listened to Christopher and wondered what on earth was going on. Sitting on her own, his odd repeating chant sounded haunting. It didn’t even sound like his voice, it was as if it was from another child and although it sounded childlike, there was maturity in the intonation.

  She paid attention to the fourth sound, or word, as she was certain he was saying words instead of a random chant. It sounded almost European, perhaps German or Austrian. Maria focused on his fourth word by blocking out the other three. It sounded like ‘edelweiss’. There was no way he would be saying edelweiss, it was such a complicated word for a thirteen month old child who couldn’t even properly say the name of his favourite toy.

  Campbell came in with coffee.

  “Listen,” said Maria, “listen to the fourth word.”

  He placed the mugs on the table and put his ear to the monitor.

  He closed his eyes and concentrated.

  “What does that sound like?” said Maria.

  “I’m not sure, it does sound like something.”

  “It sounds like he’s saying edelweiss.”

  “Edelweiss?” asked Campbell, in a quizzical tone.

  “That’s what I think it sounds like”.

  Campbell listened again.

  “I know what you mean, but I don’t think he’s saying edelweiss.”

  They listened together in silence.

  “The first bit isn’t a word,” said Campbell. “It’s the noise he’s making as his head thumps the pillow.”

  Maria listened again and realised he was right.

  “So, it sounds like he’s saying ‘weiss’ or ‘vice’?”

  “Or ‘voice’,” added Campbell.

  “Yes, voice, he could be saying ‘voice’.”

  Maria was feeling tired. She was irritable and wished it would all just go away. She lay on the settee and closed her eyes.

  Campbell let Maria sleep on the settee while he sat at the table in the lounge. It had been a strange evening. H
e knew Maria had appreciated his company and he was glad to be there for her.

  Tiredness was enveloping him. He put his head in his arms and shut his eyes.

  He woke to the sound of a radio. He was befuddled and didn’t know where he was. Sitting up he rubbed his aching neck. He wasn’t hearing a radio, it was Christopher and he was still head banging and chanting the same four words. He looked at his watch, it was just after one thirty in the morning. He had dozed off for a couple of hours.

  Maria was sleeping on the settee with her back away from him. He debated what to do. He could call a taxi and be home in in half an hour, or he could wake her up so she could sleep in her bed and he could stretch out on the settee.

  He was thinking about what to do when he noticed that Christopher’s chant was different. The three words he and Maria had heard earlier in the evening were clearer and more pronounced. He was still repeating ‘please’, ‘my’ and ‘voice’, but there was a new word. The second sound, which at first had been a grunt had now become another clear and defined word. Christopher was saying ‘ear’ or ‘hear’. Campbell put the four words together.

  ‘Please’, ‘ear’ or ‘hear’, ‘my’ and ‘voice’.

  Campbell’s tired mind was making sense of what he was hearing.

  ‘Please’, ‘Hear’, ‘My’ and ‘Voice’.

  “Please hear my voice,” Campbell quietly whispered the words.

  “Please hear my voice.” He repeated, but louder this time.

  Christopher was repeating ‘please hear my voice’ and had been all night. Campbell gently woke Maria, doing his best not to alarm her.

  “Maria, wake up,” as he nudged her shoulder.

  She was fast asleep and it was difficult to rouse her. He nudged her again and she stirred.

  “Maria, wake up.”

  She rolled over, opened her eyes and looked at him.

  She was confused and it took a few seconds to remember what had happened earlier that night.

  “What’s the time, what’s happening?”

  “It’s OK, take your time.”

  He offered his hand to help her up from the settee. She swivelled her body and sat up.