Army of Angels

by Marcus Brown

  “Who are you?” Sandra asked once more.

  “All good things,” she replied, cryptically. “But, for the journalist in you, this is my family home. I’ve been away for a long time and now I’ve returned to put affairs in order.”

  “You’re related to Dianne Gallagher?”

  “No, not exactly,” she replied mysteriously. “Try again.”

  “I’ve never liked playing guessing games. Tell me, or I’ll call the police and inform them of a trespasser.”

  “My, my, what an irritating little thing you are,” Juliet said nonchalantly. “I would’ve thought asking questions is what you do best.”

  Sandra seemed to ignore her rude comments. “The lady who owned this house recently passed away and bequeathed it to the Catholic Church in her will, so once again, what are you doing in here?”

  “The house belongs to me now.”

  “That’s not possible. Dianne made sure this house would never be lived in again. She told me that herself, so stop lying to me and tell me who you really are.”

  “As infuriating as you are, I somewhat admire your tenacity.”

  “Gee, thanks for the compliment.”

  “I’ll tell you who I am and the rest you can figure out for yourself.”

  “I haven’t got all day.”

  “My name is Juliet.” She smirked as the realisation of who she was hit Sandra.

  “Juliet?”

  “Yes, that’s right, but you might be more familiar with my sister’s married name.” She stepped closer to Sandra.

  “Which is?”

  “Whitmore,” Juliet answered.

  “You must think I’m stup…”

  Juliet dropped the doll and lunged for Sandra, grabbing hold of her with both hands, displaying unnatural strength.

  “Take your hands off me, now.” Sandra tried to pull Juliet’s fingers in order to free herself, but she wasn’t strong enough.

  “It will be so much more comfortable if you don’t fight. I haven’t got time for histrionics.”

  “You can’t be her,” she said, continuing to struggle to free herself from Juliet’s grip. “She’d be over a hundred years old by now.”

  Juliet laughed mockingly. “After all you’ve seen in this house, you still doubt something as easy to achieve as immortality.”

  “No. I don’t believe you. Maisie’s gone. You’re lying to me.”

  “I’ve no reason to lie to you, Sandra. I’ve been watching, and without your interference, I’d be closer to freeing my sister.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

  “Are you intentionally trying to annoy me? You know who my sister is and if you’d stayed away, Samantha would be here with me now.”

  “If you are who you say you are, and I don’t believe for one minute you are–what are you doing here?”

  “I’ve come back to avenge my sister and nephew, starting with you.” She loosened her grasp with one hand and with the other, punched a hole in Sandra’s chest.

  Blood poured from Sandra’s mouth as Juliet grabbed her beating heart and ripped it from her chest. She dropped the heart onto the floor.

  It made Juliet happy seeing the look of panic briefly spread across Sandra’s face, before the finality of human death took hold.

  She released her grip and allowed her body to drop onto the floor, like a puppet whose strings had been cut.

  Juliet looked down at Sandra’s limp body. Her eyes were wide open, still registering a look of shock.

  She sniffed the air, taking in the scene of Sandra’s blood as it trickled across the floor.

  Kneeling next to the body, she hissed. “I’ve got plans for you.”

  She picked up the heart and brutally shoved it back into Sandra’s chest, then with ease, lifted her and carried her up the stairs and into the secret room and placed her body on the slab.

  Good times. Juliet smiled at the memory.

  Killing Sandra had been satisfying, but not as much as trapping her soul, then resurrecting what remained. In time, Sandra would be powerless to resist, and yes, on occasion, she’d obeyed commands from her mistress, but a part of her humanity remained. Juliet would rob her of every shred of it before she was finished, sending her spinning into insanity in the process. Sandra would take Maisie’s place in the well.

  She sat Mabel on the table and swished the contents of the jar around. Blue eyes bounced off the sides of it. Opening the lid, she inhaled the foul smell and scooped the eyes out, placing them on the table in front of her.

  “Mummy has a present for you, Mabel,” she said.

  Mabel whispered her approval as Juliet lay her down on the slab. Sandra cowered in the corner. “Give them back to me,” she begged.”

  “They don’t belong to you anymore,” Juliet snapped. “Now, be quiet before I take your tongue.”

  Mabel’s glass eyes tilted open and Juliet reached forward, popping them out as softly as she could. “I’m so sorry,” she cooed, as if she was hurting the doll. “It will soon be over.”

  “Thank you,” Mabel replied.

  She picked the first eye up and carefully placed it in the hole. She did the same with the other eye. “All done.”

  Juliet lifted Mabel in the air, smiling at her precious little friend. The eyes focused upon her.

  “I can see you, Mistress,” she whispered. “What do you like me to do?”

  “I need you to find somebody.” She rubbed her hands together. “It all starts with him.”

  Chapter Ten

  Jason strolled lazily up the road. He was dreading the ear bashing from his mum. He should have been home for eight pm and knew she would go crazy when he walked through the door.

  Over the past six months he’d been made to feel like a prisoner in his own home, but now he was sixteen there was no way in hell she was going to stop him from going out of the house, even if having him close made her feel more secure.

  He took a deep drag of his last cigarette and flicked the butt into the road, watching it roll into a puddle, instantly wishing he’d saved half of it for the following morning. He knew he would wake up craving one and would have to rush out and buy more.

  Not a day passed by when he hadn’t thought about Ashley–the gaping hole left by his brother’s death was still there and would never be filled.

  Sleep was consumed with nightmares of that night on the lane. Feelings of guilt plagued him, and he would often wake up crying and covered in sweat.

  He’d stopped working out and his once competitive nature was now diminished and replaced with seething anger and an internal rage he couldn’t control. One of his team mates had outrun him and won a broken nose as a prize. Following on from that incident, it was decided to remove him from the team. He was still considered good looking but took less pride in his appearance. The once fashionable hairstyle was now an unkempt mess and the stubble growing on his face clashed with his pretty features.

  Jason couldn’t forget what he’d seen that night at the lane, no matter how hard he tried. He was haunted by the screams of his brother and tortured himself listening to the recording on his phone, careful not to let his mum know what he had in his possession. He’d thought long and hard about taking the phone to the police and letting them hear it, but how would he explain why he hadn’t given it to them before now? He would be in more trouble for withholding evidence and his mum needed him now more than ever.

  Every night he listened to his mum sobbing into her pillow, crying out Ashley’s name.

  For three months he’d tried to cajole his brother, Adam, into speaking, but the horror of witnessing his twin’s brutal murder had rendered him almost catatonic. He hadn’t spoken a word since that terrible night and had since been admitted to a children’s psychiatric centre.

  Losing a brother was hard enough, but Jason knew the effect losing Ashley had on his mum. She might not be the most conventional mother in the world, but she adored them. The death of one of her children had nearly d
estroyed her, and he knew she was hanging onto her sanity by a thread. Still, he couldn’t sit in the house and watch her clutching an old family photograph to her chest then drunkenly crying into the night.

  For Jason, the responsibility was too much for him to bear. He wanted to be there for her, and he was, as much as he knew how to be, but he didn’t feel strong enough to take the full burden on his own shoulders. He hoped that Adam would recover, and his mum would find a way to live without Ashley.

  Not long after Ashley’s death, he’d realized the error of buying a newspaper and leaving it on the kitchen table.

  Splashed across the front page was a photo of his brother next to a photo of Sandra Miller. She’d since gone missing and hadn’t been found.

  He put the key in the lock and forced the door.

  “Is that you, Jason?” his mother yelled, as she came tearing out of the kitchen.

  “Yeah. Who else would it be? Father fucking Christmas?”

  She looked like she was ready to explode. “Any more lip and I’ll swing for you, got it,” she threatened. “Where’ve you been?”

  “Out.”

  “I know that, clever dick, but out where exactly?”

  “Just out.”

  Jason walked into the kitchen with her hot on his heels.

  “The hospital called when you were just out,” she said sarcastically.

  His heart sank a little. He was already at breaking point and couldn’t handle any more bad news.

  “Is Adam okay?”

  “The doctor said he spoke earlier today,” she said, excitedly. “Isn’t that brilliant? Perhaps he’ll be allowed home soon.”

  “Yeah, Mum, that’s brilliant news, but don’t get your hopes up again. Adam’s got a long way to go, you know that.”

  “It’s a start though, right love. If he’s talking again, maybe he’s getting back to normal, feeling a bit better. What do you think, Jase?” He knew she only wanted reassuring but didn’t want to give her any false hope.

  “Mum. We both know he’ll never be the same as he was. The doctors have told you that so please don’t get overly excited or you’ll just end up disappointed again.”

  “What else have I got left but hope? I’ve already lost one of my babies and won’t lose another,” she said tearfully. “He’ll come back to us, just wait and see.”

  Jason knew exactly how his mum felt, but they’d both allowed themselves to get their hopes up so many times in the last six months. Now he needed to be the practical one. Adam might come home again one day, but the happy go lucky kid he once knew was gone. All of their lives were now marred with tragedy.

  “I’m gonna skip school tomorrow and spend the morning with him. Is that okay?”

  “That’s fine, love.” She poured herself a large glass of white wine. “I’ll give you a note and go up myself for the afternoon.” She walked over to her eldest son and pulled him into a hug. “You know how much I love you, don’t you? I’d never have got through these last few months if it wasn’t for you.”

  He returned the hug and kissed her on the cheek, slightly repulsed by the stale smell of alcohol and cigarette smoke coming from her. “I love you too, Mum, and don’t worry. Everything will be better,” he lied. “I’m off to bed. Catch you in the morning.”

  “Goodnight, my gorgeous boy.” She reached up to ruffle his hair. “Sleep tight, and in the morning, we’ll go to the barbers and get that bloody mop of yours cut. You look like a right scruff.”

  “Okay…” he said, although a trip to the barbers cut was the last thing he wanted to do. He kissed her cheek. “…and, Mum, lay off the booze will you.”

  Jason pulled away and ran up the stairs.

  He closed the bedroom door behind him and leaned against it, his body weary. The room was his only solitude, the only place he could let his emotions out.

  He slid down the door and grabbed a shirt from the floor, pressing it against his face, hoping it would muffle his anguished sobs.

  Chapter Eleven

  Millfield Children’s Psychiatric Centre was set in two acres of grounds, five miles away from Jason’s house.

  Despite the undeniable beauty and tranquillity of the place, he hated being there, but had little choice–there was no way he’d abandon his brother when he needed him most.

  The rooms were brightly decorated and fitted with televisions which only showed certain channels.

  Medication was at eight pm, which meant all televisions were turned off remotely and the lights were dimmed for the evening.

  He opened the door to Adam’s room and found him rocking back and forth in his chair, staring aimlessly out of the window.

  Adam had refused to eat or drink. His skin had a grey, almost lifeless tinge to it. Meal times were stressful as he was now fed via a tube. Jason couldn’t stand to see it, but no matter how much he tried to convince him to eat, his mouth clamped shut. It was almost like he had a death wish, no longer wanting to survive without his twin.

  “Hey mate,” he said, as jovially as he could managed. “How’re you doing today?”

  Adam turned and gazed at his elder brother.

  “Jase.” A tiny squeak-like noise escaped his lips.

  It was a goose bumps moment. It had been months since he had last heard his brother utter a single word. “Take it slowly mate.”

  “Jase,” he said, his voice hoarse. “Is that really you?”

  He had forgotten what his brother's voice sounded like, but he was sure it was deeper than it had been before.

  “Yes mate, it’s me,” he said, rushing over and pulling him into a bear hug. “You’re talking. About time isn’t it.”

  Jason could feel Adam tentatively wrap his arms around him–it felt good to hold his brother close. He hadn’t allowed anybody to willingly touch him in a long time.

  “Jase,” Adam whispered. “I’ve missed you.”

  “I’ve been here every day silly. You haven’t had a chance to miss me.”

  Adam hugged him tightly and Jason could feel him trembling.

  “Are you okay, Ad?”

  “I’m scared.”

  Pulling away and facing his little brother, he could see the worry etched across his face. “What you scared of? You’re safe in here, it’s like a prison.”

  “The woman,” he said quietly. “She was knocking at my window last night.”

  “It was probably a bad dream. Nobody can get near this place after dark. It’s all locked up mate. I promise.”

  “I didn’t imagine it, Jase.” His speech seemed to be improving minute by minute. “I got up when I heard the tapping and she spoke to me through the glass. She told me I had to be careful, but I was still scared.”

  “Are you sure it wasn’t one of the nurses?”

  “I know all of them and she wasn’t a nurse. She was dirty, and her fingernails were all bloody. She left blood on the window, but the rain washed it away.”

  “Are you sure it wasn’t just a bad dream?”

  “I couldn’t see her eyes properly ‘cos her hair was hanging over her face.”

  Jason was concerned Adam was suffering a relapse and tried to reassure him.

  “Don’t worry about it mate. I’ll speak to the nurse and see if you can be moved to a room upstairs, if you want?”

  “Will you really, Jase?”

  “Anything for you, but I’m sure you’ve just imagined it.” He wasn’t sure the doctor would listen and hated making promises he couldn’t keep, but he had to try. “I’ll get you moved if it’ll make you feel better.”

  “Thanks, Jase.”

  Jason noticed the twinkle in his brother’s eyes for the first time in months. “Anything you want mate. Stay there and I’ll go and talk to the nurse in charge.”

  “All right. But you will come back, won’t you?”

  “I’m your big brother. I’ll be here as long as you want me, and I’ll always look after you–won’t be long.” He gave Adam the thumbs up as he was leaving. “And maybe, whe
n I get back, you’ll help me eat this big bag of chocolate eclairs in my pocket.”

  “I might have one.”

  Warmth filled Jason’s heart. Maybe his mum had been right, and Adam would eventually recover.

  Adam was sitting on the bed looking anxious when Jason returned. “I didn’t think you’d come back.”

  “I told you I would.” Jason felt guilty for taking so long. The bitch nurse wasn’t having any of it and refused to move Adam. He’d told her what he thought of her and insisted she ask the doctor and allow him to have final say.

  “Is Mum coming in to see me today?”

  It seemed he’d forgotten about moving rooms.

  “Yes mate, she’ll be here shortly. Do you want me to call her and ask her to bring anything with her?”

  “I want a picture of Ashley.” Tears filled his eyes.

  “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Ad.”

  “I can’t remember what he looks like.”

  Jason was concerned by his request. Adam and Ashley were identical twins. How could Adam forget what their brother looked like?

  “Okay, I’ll text now and ask her to bring a picture of us all together. How’s that?”

  Adam’s handsome little face lit up into a large grin. “I miss him, Jase. It’s like half of me died too.”

  “I know.” Jason gulped, not wanting to lose it in front of Adam. “I miss him too, but we’ve still got each other, and Mum too.”

  Jason could empathise. It felt like a part of him had died too, but he knew that for Adam, it would feel far worse. They’d never spent a day apart in their entire lives, and for Jason it was bad enough, but what must it truly feel like for twins to be separated in such a horrible and final way.

  Jason looked on as Adam retreated back into himself, his eyes glazing over, as he stared into space. He texted his mum and asked her to bring the picture with her. He knew the doctor wouldn’t be pleased, but he didn’t care–it was what Adam wanted, and it was the first time he’d mentioned his brother in months.

  Maybe seeing his face would make him feel better and aid in his recovery. Jason was deeply conflicted, and it could backfire spectacularly, but anything was worth a try.