by Cross, Amy
How foolish of me to have doubts.
I need another brain stem, but I also need younger, fresher material to place inside Catherine's body. The whores of Whitechapel might be alive, but they are stringy and weak and impoverished and malnourished and wholly unfit for purpose. They spend their lives in idleness, they're constantly drinking and smoking and whoring themselves out to whoever is willing to pay them. At first I thought that those women would provide an excellent resource, but now I realize that not only have I dishonored Catherine by placing the parts of those foul hags in her body, I have used organs that were treated abominably by their original owners. I need parts from a body that is stronger and filled with the force of life, from someone who is in the peak of physical fitness. Someone whose physical form embodies the very life that I am trying to return to Catherine.
And I shall bring her back. Of course I shall. I can still rescue this procedure and rescue Catherine from death, but I shall have to rethink my approach.
It is perhaps a plague of great men, that we sometimes have moments of doubt. Fools rush on regardless, never questioning themselves, but we few great men must suffer these thoughts. We must overcome the doubts, though, and push on, and that is what I shall do.
Stepping over to the top of the slab and stopping next to Jack, I reach down and touch the side of Catherine's dead face. I do not speak out loud, not this time, but in my mind I tell her that everything will be okay, and that I merely require more time. Deep down, I fear that these words are mere paltry echoes of the promises I made when she was alive, but I can finally feel my strength and determination starting to return. I am exhausted, yes, but not defeated.
And in my mind, Catherine replies to me.
“Yes, my darling,” I hear her voice saying, “I know you'll succeed. Other men might not, but you are a cut above them all. You, and you alone, possess the necessary skills to turn back death itself. And I shall wait until you bring me back.”
“I must think,” I murmur to Jack, before turning and starting to make my way over to the counter. My legs are so tired, I fear they might give out under me at any moment. “I must consider the next step and -”
Suddenly the air is filled with the loudest, most hideous screeching sound. A sound so loud, I instinctively put my hands to my ears as I turn around. Jack has his hands at his ears too, and – as the screeching scream continues – we stare at one another for a moment before both looking down at the slab. And then, to my horror, I see from whence the scream is coming.
It is coming from Catherine's mouth, and her eyes are wide open too. The scream is now so loud that I fear my eardrums are about to burst. Somehow, though her body is without a heart and though I am not even halfway through the set of procedures I had planned...
Somehow, Catherine's face is contorted into a rictus of pain. And she is screaming.
Chapter Twenty
Maddie
Today
By the time I get back to Cathmore Road, night has fallen and there are few people about. Somewhere in the distance, church bells are ringing, and further still there's the sound of a siren. The loudest sound, however, is my own slouching, stumbling footsteps as I carry Alex's bags along the pavement and finally stop outside the dark, towering silhouette of number nine.
A flicker of pain runs up my spine as I set the bags down.
I'm back.
Back at number nine, Cathmore Road, at the house where I spent that terrifying night.
The house with the strange basement.
The house with the empty rooms and the bell that rang.
The house where unseen hands stitched my wound.
I stare for a moment at the house, which stands behind tall spiked railings. For a few seconds I try to think of somewhere else – anywhere else – that I could perhaps go, but I know I have no other options. I need to get off the streets and stay out of sight, away from people. Besides, this is the address that I gave to Simon, so I have to stay here if I have any hope of Alex eventually showing up and finding me. Plus, in the back of my mind, I can't help wondering whether perhaps there's somebody here, somebody who might be able to help with my inflamed wound.
Or did I put the stitches in myself?
My mind has been so muddled lately, I'm not even sure that I remember very well.
I make my way to the steps, and then up to the front door. I knock, but of course nobody comes to answer. I knock again, and I wait several minutes, but still there's no reply. Not that I expected one, of course, but I figure I had to at least try. If there is someone here, they seemed friendly last time, if a little shy. They might not even be here anymore, but I don't have any other choices.
Stepping back, I look up at the house's upstairs windows. There's no sign of light inside the building, no sign that anyone is in there, but a part of me wonders whether somebody is hiding in the darkness.
I have to take this risk.
It's way better than staying out here.
And then, as if to prove that point, I look along the street and spot the faintest outline of a figure at the far end. There's not much light out there, and I have to squint to see properly, but there's a figure on the farthest street corner. At least, I think there's a figure. It's really not possible to tell for certain, but the more I look, the more I feel that I can just about make out a shape.
I duck down and grab Alex's bags before making my way across the front garden, and then I clamber through a gap in the railings. I'm sure the supposed figure wasn't actually there, that he was a trick of the light or a figment of my imagination, but I'm not going to stick around and find out.
Heading around to the side of the house, I slip through the gate and into the dark, overgrown garden. I make straight for the back of the building this time, and when I look up I see that the half-circle window is still broken. I can barely believe that I'm back here, but I know I have no choice, so I reach up and – despite the pain in my waist – I manage to throw the bags and my backpack through the window. As I hear them drop down into the hallway, I start climbing up myself, pushing through the pain until I'm able to slip my legs through the gap.
I still hesitate for a moment, wondering whether this is the best option, but finally I realize that I really just need to get on with it. Sometimes I overthink these things. So I maneuver myself carefully, to try to minimize the pain when I land, and then I let myself fall through the window and back into the darkness of this strange, dark, silent old house.
Coming Soon
THE LADY SCREAMS
(THE HOUSE OF JACK THE RIPPER BOOK 4)
Now that she's back in the mysterious house on Cathmore Road, Maddie starts to notice strange noises coming from the upstairs rooms. And when she starts talking to one of the neighbors, she begins to piece together the house's dark and troubled history. Meanwhile, back in the nineteenth century, Doctor Charles Grazier tries to work out whether he has succeeded in bringing his wife back, or whether something truly awful has arrived in his house.
Also by Amy Cross
THE ASH HOUSE
Why would anyone ever return to a haunted house?
For Diane Mercer the answer is simple. She's dying of cancer, and she wants to know once and for all whether ghosts are real.
Heading home with her young son, Diane is determined to find out whether the stories are real. After all, everyone else claimed to see and hear strange things in the house over the years. Everyone except Diane had some kind of experience in the house, or in the little ash house in the yard.
As Diane explores the house where she grew up, however, her son is exploring the yard and the forest. And while his mother might be struggling to come to terms with her own impending death, Daniel Mercer is puzzled by fleeting appearances of a strange little girl who seems drawn to the ash house, and by strange, rasping coughs that he keeps hearing at night.
The Ash House is a horror novel about a woman who desperately wants to know what will happen to her when she dies, and about a b
oy who uncovers the shocking truth about a young girl's murder.
Also by Amy Cross
HAUNTED
Twenty years ago, the ghost of a dead little girl drove Sheriff Michael Blaine to his death.
Now, that same ghost is coming for his daughter.
Returning to the small town where she grew up, Alex Roberts is determined to live a normal, quiet life. For the residents of Railham, however, she's an unwelcome reminder of the town's darkest hour.
Twenty years ago, nine-year-old Mo Garvey was found brutally murdered in a nearby forest. Everyone thinks that Alex's father was responsible, but if the killer was brought to justice, why is the ghost of Mo Garvey still after revenge?
And how far will the real killer go to protect his secret, when Alex starts getting closer to the truth?
Haunted is a horror novel about a woman who has to face her past, about a town that would rather forget, and about a little girl who refuses to let death stand in her way.
Also by Amy Cross
THE BRIDE OF ASHBYRN HOUSE
“I have waited so long for your return.”
In the English countryside, miles from the nearest town, there stands an old stone house. Nobody has set foot in the house for years. Nobody has dared. For it is said that even though the lady of the house is long dead, a face can sometimes be seen at one of the windows. A pale, dead face that waits patiently behind a silk wedding veil.
Seeking an escape from his life in London, Owen Stone purchases Ashbyrn House without waiting to find out about its history. As far as Owen is concerned, ghosts aren't real and his only company in the house will be the thin-legged spiders that lurk on the walls. Even after he moves in, and after he starts hearing strange noises in the night, Owen insists that Ashbyrn House can't possibly be haunted.
But Owen knows nothing about the ghostly figure that is said to haunt the house. Or about the mysterious church bells that ring out across the lawn at night. Or about the terrible fate that befell the house's previous inhabitants when they dared defy the bride. Even as Owen starts to understand the horrific truth about Ashbyrn House's past, he might be too late to escape the clutches of the presence that watches his every move.
The Bride of Ashbyrn House is a ghost story about a man who believes the past can't hurt him, and about a woman whose search for a husband has survived even her own tragic death.
Also by Amy Cross
THE BODY AT AUERCLIFF
“We'll bury her so deep, even her ghost will have a mouth full of dirt!”
When Rebecca Wallace arrives at Auercliff to check on her aged aunt, she's in for a shock. Her aunt's mind is crumbling, and the old woman refuses to let Rebecca stay overnight. And just as she thinks she's starting to understand the truth, Rebecca makes a horrifying discovery in one of the house's many spare rooms.
A dead body. A woman. Old and rotten. And her aunt insists she has no idea where it came from.
The truth lies buried in the past. For generations, the occupants of Auercliff have been tormented by the repercussions of a horrific secret. And somehow everything seems to be centered upon the mausoleum in the house's ground, where every member of the family is entombed once they die.
Whose body was left to rot in one of the house's rooms? Why have successive generations of the family been plagued by a persistent scratching sound? And what really happened to Rebecca many years ago, when she found herself locked inside the Auercliff mausoleum?
The Body at Auercliff is a horror story about a family and a house, and about the refusal of the past to stay buried.
OTHER BOOKS
BY AMY CROSS INCLUDE
Horror
The Soul Auction
The Ash House
The Camera Man
The Bride of Ashbyrn House
The Body at Auercliff
Haunted
B&B
Laura
Asylum
Meds (Asylum 2)
Annie's Room
The Farm
The Ghost of Molly Holt
The Curse of Wetherley House
The Ghosts of Lakeforth Hotel
The Haunting of Blackwych Grange
The Ghosts of Hexley Airport
The Devil, the Witch and the Whore (The Deal book 1)
Darper Danver: The Complete First Series
The Disappearance of Katie Wren
The Horror of Devil's Root Lake
The Printer From Hell
The Nurse
American Coven
Eli's Town
The Night Girl
Devil's Briar
The Cabin
After the Cabin
Last Wrong Turn
The Ghost of Shapley Hall
A House in London
The Blood House
The Priest Hole (Nykolas Freeman book 1)
Battlefield (Nykolas Freeman book 2)
The Border
Short Story Collections
Perfect Little Monsters and Other Stories
Twisted Little Things and Other Stories
The Ghost of Longthorn Manor and Other Stories
The Vampire of Downing Street and Other Stories
Thrillers
The Murder at Skellin Cottage (Jo Mason book 1)
The Return of Rachel Stone (Jo Mason book 2)
The Girl Who Never Came Back
Other People's Bodies
Dystopian / Science Fiction
The Dog
The Island (The Island book 1)
Persona (The Island book 2)
The Abyss (The Island book 3)
