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

by Andrew M Stafford

  No one spoke as he chanted his five new words. The pens on the printer were scratching away at the paper, recording a strange phenomenon that neither Phelps nor the technicians had ever witnessed before nor understood.

  “Free – me – from – this – hell”…. “Free – me – from – this – hell”…. “Free – me – from – this – hell”…. “Free – me – from – this – hell”…. “Free – me – from – this – hell”…. “Free – me – from – this – hell”…. “Free – me – from – this – hell”…. “Free – me – from – this – hell”

  Maria staggered up from the couch, drunkenly lurched across the room and into the bathroom where she was trying her best not to throw up. Hudson followed behind but stopped short of the toilet door where she could hear Maria coughing and heaving.

  She stumbled out of the bathroom wiping her mouth. Propping herself up against the wall she lifted her head and looked at Hudson.

  “I can’t take this anymore, make it go away, please make it go away.”

  She dropped onto the bed in the corner of the room.

  “Please leave me alone.”

  Hudson stepped out of the room and closed the door behind her.

  Maria lay in the dark. With the door shut she couldn’t hear his chanting. She pulled the pillow over her face and cried.

  The others could hear her sobs through the door.

  “Let her be,” whispered Phelps, “She’ll come round when she’s ready.”

  But she didn’t. The exhaustion of the tiring journey and long day had taken every ounce of strength she’d had. And now that Christopher was acting more bizarrely than ever, it was just too much for her.

  At eleven fifteen Christopher stopped and the pens on the printer slowed to a steady rhythm recording a natural sleep pattern.

  Phelps left the room whilst Hudson and Prince watched over Christopher in two hour shifts. When one was watching, the other was catnapping on the couch.

  The rest of the night continued without any further events.

  Chapter seventy three

  The Portland Hospital

  7.06am

  Tuesday 25th October

  Maria woke at just after seven and emerged from her room looking disheveled and wearing the same clothes she had on when she fell face down onto the bed.

  Her mouth tasted bitter and her eyes were stinging. Her son’s chanting was ringing in her ears.

  “I’m sorry.” She said as she emerged from her room.

  Prince, who was standing over Christopher, turned to her and smiled.

  “It’s OK, take it easy.”

  He guided her to the chair in the corner of the room and sat her down.

  Maria saw Hudson sleeping on the couch.

  “The two of us have been with Christopher all night. We’ve been taking it in shifts. It’s June’s turn to sleep now.”

  Maria nodded.

  Christopher was beginning to wake. Prince slowly removed the sensors from the little boy’s body. The sensors left little round marks where the sticky pads had been attached to his skin.

  He opened his eyes and looked around the unfamiliar hospital room. Maria stood up, straightened her T-shirt and ran her fingers through her messy hair in a subconscious attempt at making herself presentable for her son.

  His little face screwed up and his bottom lip stuck out as he was about to cry, but before the tears rolled he spotted his mother and his sad face switched to one of happiness.

  Maria picked him out of the cot, carried him tightly in her arms and took him to her room shutting the door behind her.

  Prince woke Hudson and passed her a fresh cup of coffee.

  Both technicians were tired and Hudson had confused her dreams with reality.

  “Did that really happen last night?”

  Prince nodded.

  “What the hell’s happening with that little boy?”

  Prince shook his head.

  “I’ve no idea, but I know one thing, no damned polysomnography test is going to get to the bottom of this, I think that boy needs to see a priest.”

  Hudson ‘shushed’ him and pointed to the closed door.

  “Be quiet, she’ll hear you.”

  “So what do you think, and be honest?” asked Prince,

  “I don’t know, but there must be a logical explanation for the whole thing,” replied Hudson.

  Maria opened her door. She looked brighter. She’d thrown water over her face, applied a little makeup and tied her hair back.

  “I know what you think about Christopher, my son’s a freak.”

  The technicians didn’t answer.

  Maria was about to speak, but stopped when she heard a knock at the door. Prince stood up, walked over and opened it. Peter Phelps was waiting outside.

  “Good morning!”

  Hudson and Prince quietly responded and Maria said nothing.

  Phelps could sense the tension in the room and motioned for the technicians to leave.

  “How are you?”

  “I’ve been better,” replied Maria.

  Over the years Phelps had dealt with hundreds of medical issues and had the difficult job of delivering bad news to parents. He’d been the one to tell parents that their child had hideous illnesses such as leukemia and other worst case scenario conditions. He’d been the one to announce that a child may have months or weeks to live.

  He was a professional and was able to talk to parents in a rehearsed but compassionate manner, giving time for the awful news he’d delivered to sink in before moving on to the practicalities that came next. He’d done this so many times over the years he’d become quite proficient and was able to detach himself from the news he was conveying.

  But this was different. He had no idea what to say to Maria. He didn’t know what was happening to the boy and why he was talking in his sleep in such a strange way.

  Phelps wondered whether the boy was repeating things he’d heard on television or that he’d overheard from adults. If so, it still wouldn’t explain the transformation in his voice.

  Phelps was a practical man and had no time for anything unnatural. Everything had a reasonable explanation, unfortunately he had no idea what this explanation could possibly be.

  He knew it wasn’t wise to speculate about what was happening to Christopher so he avoided any conversation with Maria regarding what could be happening with her son.

  “So what do you think is happening to Christopher?”

  “I’m afraid I can’t answer that, at least not at the moment.”

  Phelps paused and considered his words carefully.

  “With your permission I would like to keep Christopher here until Thursday, which would enable us to carry out further tests on your son, none of which would not cause him any harm.”

  Phelps stood up, walked to the sink and filled a glass with water.

  “It will take me some time to review the data from the polysomnography test and I don’t want to jump to conclusions until I have had time to analyse the results.”

  Maria nodded and hugged her son.

  Maria reluctantly agreed to Christopher spending the next three nights at the hospital, even though she was anxious to get out of the place. She knew she may never have an opportunity like this again and she was desperate to find out what was happening to her son.

  She missed home, she missed her mother and she missed her friends, but most of all she was missing Campbell. Although they’d had just one night together she was longing to see him again. She’d promised to cook for him last Thursday, but with everything that was going on, the date slipped her mind. She’d called him several times over the last week to keep him updated with what was happening, but hadn’t seen him in over ten days.

  She was worrying whether he’d go off the boil and lose interest in her.

  Dr Phelps didn’t need Maria or Christopher during the day, so she had until six o’clock in the evening to herself. She wasn’t much of a fan of London and hadn’t p
lanned on what to do. Although Phelps had agreed to cover her out of pocket expenses and a little extra, it would still be an expensive week and she just didn’t have the money to take in the sights of the city and keep Christopher happy at the same time.

  Maria and Phelps discussed the week ahead and arranged to meet that evening to start the second round of tests.

  Maria quickly showered and got ready for the day while Christopher lay in the cot playing and cuddling Misty. She washed and changed him and then headed to the restaurant for breakfast.

  After last night’s ordeal she wasn’t hungry, but knew she needed to keep her strength up. She chose a light breakfast of fruit and yoghurt and fed Christopher a mashed banana.

  By the time she’d finished breakfast it was only eight forty five. She wasn’t looking forward to the rest of the day, partly because she was dreading the evening and partly because she wasn’t looking forward to traipsing around London with Christopher in tow.

  After breakfast she returned to her room. She’d picked up a complimentary newspaper from reception and turned the television on to occupy Christopher. He happily watched CBeebies as she perused the latest headlines.

  She was about to make a cup of coffee when the phone in the corner of the room rang. She quickly turned around as the shrill tone took her by surprise.

  “Can I speak to Maria Jameson please?”

  “Speaking.”

  “Good morning, this is Paula in reception, I have some people here who would like to see you.”

  “Who are they?”

  “They want me to keep it as a surprise.”

  “A surprise?”

  “Yes, can you come down to reception please.”

  Maria put Christopher in his buggy and made her way along the corridor to reception. The area was full of people. Doctors and consultants were busy talking by the coffee machine, nervous looking parents were waiting with their children and a salesman was pacing up and down adjusting his security pass.

  She walked over to the desk and asked for Paula, who came from the room behind reception with a pair of reading glasses perched on the end of her nose.

  “Hi, I’m Maria, you just called me.”

  “Ah yes, your visitors. They’re waiting for you in the restaurant.”

  Maria thanked her and made her way back to the restaurant, where she’d been just over an hour earlier.

  As she turned the corner she caught sight of a couple who were sitting face to face across a table. One had orange juice and the other had coffee.

  “No!” exclaimed Maria under her breath, as her face lit up. Her pace quickened as she made her way towards them.

  Christopher, who was trundling along in his buggy, spotted the lady and called out, “Sam”.

  The couple stood up, stepped away from the table and moved towards Maria.

  “What are you doing here?” asked Maria as she threw her arms around Samreen.

  “We wanted to surprise you,” replied her best friend.

  Campbell waited patiently behind Samreen.

  Maria kissed Samreen on her cheek, stood back and took a breath. She turned round and faced Campbell and then they held each other in a tight embrace that seemed to go on forever. Samreen was feeling a little awkward, like she was playing gooseberry.

  Samreen bent down and picked Christopher out of his buggy and gave him a huge hug.

  Eventually Campbell and Maria let go of each other.

  “When did you two get here?”

  “We pulled into Paddington at eight thirty, jumped on the tube and now here we are!” replied Samreen as she bobbed Christopher up and down in her arms.

  “You two have really made my day,” said Maria. The expression on her face reflected the happiness she felt.

  “It was Samreen’s idea,” said Campbell.

  There were more hugs and kisses and cuddles for Christopher before they left the hospital for a brief tour of London.

  “How long are you staying?” asked Maria.

  “Just for today,” said Campbell.

  “I’ve taken the day off and need to be back for work in the morning, he continued.

  “And I’m off to Birmingham tonight as I have to attend a conference at the NEC tomorrow,” said Samreen.

  They spent the day taking in some of the sights and finished the day with a trip on the London Eye.

  They shared a taxi back to the hospital and after hugs and kisses Maria returned to her room. She was exhausted and it was only a quarter past five.

  She had forty five minutes until her meeting with Phelps and the next round of tests which were to get underway.

  Christopher was sleeping in his buggy and she was tempted to lie on the bed and shut her eyes. She decided against it. She was so tired she would have probably slept until morning.

  Instead she jumped in the shower and freshened up. This made her feel better. She looked at the clock and decided what to do for the next thirty minutes. She was hungry after the busy day and decided to head down to the restaurant for a quick snack and something for Christopher, who was still sleeping.

  When she got to the restaurant she saw Hudson and Prince having an early evening meal before the night shift began. She hoped they wouldn’t see her as she couldn’t face sitting with them discussing Christopher’s head banging, after all, it was the only thing they had in common.

  She chose a panini for her and a children’s lunch box for her son. She knew that most of his food would end up being launched from his high chair, but she wasn’t clearing up tonight and didn’t care.

  She struggled to balance her tray of food and push Christopher in his buggy as she made her way to an empty table.

  “Hi, Maria, can I give you a hand?” called June Hudson from the other side of the restaurant.

  Maria was about to answer, when she just about stopped the tray full of food from slipping onto the floor.

  Hudson ran over and got there just in time.

  “Mike and I are over there in the corner, would you like to join us?”

  Maria hesitated, but knew she couldn’t be rude.

  “I’d love to,” she replied.

  Mike Prince pulled up a high chair and Maria strapped Christopher in and laid out a selection of food for him to pick at.

  She tucked into her panini and waited for the small talk to begin.

  “So, what have you been doing today?” asked Hudson.

  Maria told them about her day and that her lovely friends had travelled to London just to be with her.

  She did her best to avoid any conversation involving her son, as she really couldn’t face talking about the reason why he was in the hospital. She had the next few days ahead of her which would be all about his strange behaviour.

  Instead, Maria was able to steer the conversation around to Hudson and Prince. Hudson was divorced and Prince was in a long term relationship. They both lived in London. Prince lived in Tower Hamlets and Hudson in Harlesden. She avoided asking questions about their jobs and whether they enjoyed working at the hospital, as this could easily have brought the conversation round to the subject of Christopher.

  Hudson checked the time on her phone and said that it was time for her and Prince to get going. They left Maria to finish her food. Christopher was eating slowly so Maria asked them to tell Phelps she would be a few minutes late.

  She got to her room at six fifteen and apologised to Phelps for being late.

  “OK Maria, you know the routine. It will be the same as last night. June and Mike will attach the sensors to Christopher when he’s sleeping and they’ll do their best not to wake him. If tonight is anything like last night we’ll hopefully get some good data.”

  Maria left the experts alone to work whilst she changed Christopher and prepared him for bed in the other room.

  Although he’d spent most of the day being pushed around London in his buggy and not had a particularly active day, Christopher was crotchety and ready to sleep. He wriggled and fidgeted as Maria struggl
ed to do up the poppers on his sleep suit.

  “Keep still you little…..” said Maria, without finishing the sentence.

  Eventually she emerged holding her son in a new pale blue towelling sleep suit.

  Phelps, Hudson and Prince left Maria on her own with Christopher whilst she sang him a song and kissed him goodnight. Maria lowered the lights and sat on the couch and waited for him to sleep.

  Fifteen minutes later he was sound asleep and gently snoring. Maria took a moment alone to watch her son’s gentle slumber before the others returned. She knew that before long he would change from a normal, happy little boy into something completely different. She looked at his innocent face with his cheek resting on the pillow and watched his eyes occasionally twitch as he dreamt. She wondered what on earth was going on inside his head. Where in the depths of his young developing brain was he coming up with the strange chants?

  Maria was snapped from her thoughts by a gentle knock on the door. Phelps and the technicians were waiting to come in and get the evening underway.

  “Is he sleeping?” whispered Phelps.

  Maria nodded and let them in.

  She hated the next bit, so shut herself in the other room and lay on the bed whilst the technicians and Phelps prepared for the next round of tests.

  At twenty past seven Christopher was gently rocking from side to side and groaning. This was how his head banging normally started.

  The pens on the printer were twitching as they recorded the increase in his brain activity. Phelps walked over to the printer and looked at the patterns emerging as paper slowly chugged out.

  Christopher stopped rolling and started lifting and dropping his head onto the pillow. At first his head banging followed no pattern and was quite random, but after a few minutes he developed a definite five beat sequence which included a ‘grunt’ each time his head hit the pillow. The grunts developed into words and in less than a minute he was repeating the same five words as he’d done the previous night.

  “Free – me – from – this – hell”…. “Free – me – from – this – hell”…. “Free – me – from – this – hell”…. “Free – me – from – this – hell”…. “Free – me – from – this – hell”…. “Free – me – from – this – hell”…. “Free – me – from – this – hell”…. “Free – me – from – this – hell”