The Ghost of Briarwych Church

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The Ghost of Briarwych Church Page 11

by Amy Cross


  Suddenly the Lansley girl turns and looks this way, and our gazes meet.

  “Can she see you?” Shaltak asks as the girl stares at me. “Does she see a ghost at the window?”

  Too scared to know what I should do, I simply stand here and wait. The Lansley girl stares at me for a moment longer, before grabbing her friend's arm and saying something to him. I don't hear her words, but the boy quickly looks this way and he too appears to see me. Then, as if terrified, the two children run away across the cemetery and disappear into the distance.

  “I think we have an answer,” Shaltak says. “They'll go home and tell their families that they saw the ghost of Judith Prendergast. How do you think their families will react?”

  “No,” I reply, “I -”

  “You're horrifying, Judith,” she continues. “You're the ghost of Briarwych Church. You haunt this place now. How does that feel? You're the horror of the village.”

  Panicking, I turn and hurry out of the room, and then I make my way along the aisle before dropping once more to my knees and clutching my hands together.

  “That won't help you,” Shaltak sneers, “you fucking pig.”

  “Dear Lord I am your faithful servant and I have sinned but I beg your forgiveness,” I stammer, determined to keep trying. “Help me get rid of this foul demon.”

  As Shaltak laughs, I continue to pray. Deep in my heart, I know that the Lord will soon answer.

  Chapter Nineteen

  Several weeks later

  My sobs break the silence of the church. I can't help myself. I'm cowering on the floor, weeping in the corner of the church. I have my hands over my eyes, but that doesn't help when the evil is already in my mind.

  “I've been thinking, Judith,” Shaltak says, after several days away, “maybe -”

  “Leave me!” I shriek. “Don't you dare even talk to me!”

  “Well, that's not very friendly, is it?”

  “I can't hear you!” I sob. “I refuse!”

  “I want to try something,” Shaltak replies. “An experiment, if you like. I have rested and I want to see whether we can perhaps, together, project ourselves beyond the church. If only for a short time.”

  “I don't want anything to do with you!” I snap.

  “Tough. We're stuck together for now.” She pauses. “I've been thinking about that lovely priest. What was his name again? Oh, that's right. Father Perkins.”

  “I can't hear you,” I say again, shaking my head.

  “That name hurts you, doesn't it? It tears at your heart. There are scratch-marks, Judith, on the inside of your soul.”

  “Father Perkins is far away,” I whimper. “He escaped, at least.”

  “Do you think so? Or do you think that he still thinks of you from time to time?”

  “I don't want to talk about this,” I reply, struggling to stay strong. “He escaped from all of this.”

  “I've been practicing,” Shaltak replies. “Testing whether I can reach out, and I think I can. I believe I have made Father Perkins see you on several occasions, all the way out there in the war-torn lands of mainland Europe.”

  “You're lying.”

  “I'll prove it to you. And this time you'll be there too.”

  “You're a liar!” I snap. “Demon's always lie.”

  “Don't you want to see him again?” Shaltak asks, her voice purring through my mind. “Don't you want to touch him?”

  “I'm not going to fall for your tricks.”

  “Let's go and see him,” Shaltak continues. “Let's go and see your precious Father Perkins.”

  “No,” I stammer, “please, I -”

  Suddenly I feel the air become much warmer. Lowering my hands, I see that I'm now towering over a bed. There's a figure in the bed, trembling and shaking, and after a moment the figure turns and – in the low light of the room – I see the terrified, tortured face of poor Father Perkins.

  “His soul is dying, don't you think?” Shaltak says. “He can't face the truth. Why does he fear us? Why doesn't he love us?”

  “Don't hurt him,” I whimper. “Please, please don't hurt him. Leave him alone. Hurt me, but let him go.”

  I hear Shaltak laughing in my head, and then I look down and see that my hand is reaching out toward Father Perkins' face. I try desperately to pull back, but it's as if my form is not my own and I can do nothing as my hand touches his cheek. The horror in his eyes is enough to make me want to scream, but I can already feel my fingertips reaching down toward his neck.

  “No,” I whisper, “I won't let you kill him.”

  “You have no choice,” Shaltak's voice says in my mind. “I shall slowly tear his head off, and you shall have no choice but to watch. Decapitation has always been my favored way of killing. It's just such a brutal way to end a human life. And while you cannot stop me, you shall feel every moment through your hands. You shall feel his skin tearing, and his hot blood rushing out, and his body shaking violently as he dies. All that violence contained in your hands. I want to ensure that you feel it all.”

  “No!” I scream, and with all my strength I manage to pull back.

  Suddenly my back presses against the cold wall of the church, and I find that I'm back on the floor. My hands are outstretched in front of me, shaking terribly, but there is now no sign of Father Perkins.

  “Interesting,” Shaltak says after a moment. “How did you do that?”

  Staring at my hands, I can't help but think back to the horrified expression on Father Perkins' face. He looked like a truly broken man, like someone had finally let fear consume his soul. I wanted to speak to him, to tell him that this is all my fault, to beg for his forgiveness. Instead, I was unable to say anything until I finally managed to bring myself back here to the church.

  “You are stronger than you look,” Shaltak says. “You should not have been able to stop me. Is your love for that priest so strong, so pure, that it momentarily gave you such vast strength?”

  “Leave him alone,” I whimper. “I won't let you hurt him.”

  “We shall see.”

  Shivering in the cold air, I roll onto my side and begin sobbing uncontrollably. It's my fault that Father Perkins has become such a crushed man, and I know I shall not be able to stop Shaltak forever. Then again, what choice do I have? I must stop her, I must stay strong, or she'll surely carry out her terrible threat. For now she seems to have retreated, and I can sense that her voice is not currently in my mind. I don't know where she has gone, and I am certain that she will return, but at least for now I am spared her torment. And I am sure that while she is gone from my mind, Father Perkins at least is safe.

  I sob for hours. I keep trying to think of something that I can do to escape this horror, but there is nothing. If I could end my pitiful existence, I would do just that, but I am already dead and I do not know how to extinguish what is left of me. I can only pray to the Lord, for hour after desperate hour, begging him to see my agony and my contrition. I know I am not worthy of being saved, but at least the Lord can help those who might yet be hurt by Shaltak. Father Perkins and Elizabeth and the others need to be protected, so I pray and I pray for divine intervention, all through the night and then through the morning too, as the windows lighten and a new day arrives.

  And then, many hours after dawn, I feel my thoughts swell slightly, and I stiffen with fear as I realize that Shaltak has returned.

  “Your strength fascinates me,” she whispers. “How you stopped me last night, Judith, I do not understand. I have contemplated the matter for many hours. It seems that you are not as pathetic as you seemed. Is it possible that I have misjudged you?”

  “Leave me alone,” I whimper. “Dear Lord, save me from -”

  Suddenly a great force whips me up from the floor and slams me against the church's wall, with such strength that I let out a gasp of shock. For a moment I am pinned in place, and then slowly the force starts pushing me higher and higher up the wall until I am almost at the ceiling. At the same tim
e, my arms are forced out to my sides, compelling me to assume the position of Christ on the cross.

  “Save me, Lord!” I scream. “Condemn my soul to Hell, but end this torture!”

  “Nobody cares about your soul, Judith,” Shaltak explains calmly. “Do you think the people of this village don't know that you're in here? They might tell themselves that you have left, but in the backs of their minds they must realize. Perhaps some of them even heard your scream a moment ago, but they do not care one iota. Don't you think that perhaps they share some of the blame for your unfortunate predicament?”

  “I just want it to end!” I cry out. “Do what you want with me, but leave the others alone!”

  “You remain defiant.”

  “He's a good man,” I whimper, as I feel tears streaming down my face. “He doesn't deserve any of this.”

  “Your love for that priest drives you,” Shaltak replies. “Bow down to me completely, Judith, and I might yet spare him.”

  “Dear Lord,” I continue, as I look up toward the ceiling, “I ask your forgiveness. I am wretched, and I know I cannot atone for all the sins I have committed, but -”

  Suddenly Shaltak starts laughing loudly.

  “But I beg you to intervene for the sake of all the others who might yet be hurt by this foul monstrosity.”

  “Foul monstrosity?” Shaltak chuckles. “Oh, I like that. Please, go on.”

  “Don't let her hurt Father Perkins,” I continue. “He has been a faithful servant of yours, and he deserves to be spared from the consequences of my terrible mistakes.”

  “Open your soul to me completely, Judith,” Shaltak says, “and I shall spare the priest.”

  “Lord, you must -”

  “He won't help you!” Shaltak snaps. “He doesn't even hear you! Only I can do anything for you, Judith. The sooner you turn your face from God and accept me, the sooner your loved ones can be spared.”

  “I will not abandon the Lord,” I sob. “I refuse to be -”

  Before I can finish, I'm flung from the wall and sent crashing across the church. I slam against the pews and cry out as I fall to the floor. There was no pain in the impact, only shock, but I am weeping and shaking as I get to my feet. I want desperately for this to end, and I know that there is only one way that I can ever escape the dreadful compact that I made with this demon.

  Slowly, I get down onto my knees and begin once more to pray.

  “Dear Lord,” I stammer, barely able to get the words out, “I shall not lose my faith in you. No matter how I am tempted by this demon, I shall not again make the mistake that I made when first I heard her voice. Look deep into my soul, deeper than I myself can look, and you shall see that I speak the truth. I am your faithful servant, humble though lost, and I beseech you to end the madness that I have created.”

  Nearby, Shaltak is laughing.

  “I do not hear her voice,” I continue. “Not anymore.”

  “Is that so?” Shaltak chuckles.

  “I cast her from my mind. With your help, Lord, I send her away.”

  “You don't know what you're talking about.”

  “I beg you, Lord.”

  “You don't even know where you are.”

  “Leave me alone!” I yell, turning to look over my shoulder. “Leave my -”

  And then I freeze, as I find that once more I am no longer in the church. I am in a completely unfamiliar place, in a rather bare-looking room with wooden floorboards. There is a window over on the room's far side, looking out to a sky that appears completely white. I can hear voices outside, distant voices of men shouting at one another. For a moment, I can only stand in shock as I look around the room and try to work out exactly where I am. This place feels utterly foreign. I know I am certainly not in Briarwych, not anymore, and I fear I am not even in England. Then, hearing footsteps, I turn and look toward a wooden door, which almost immediately springs open.

  “No,” I whisper, as I see Father Perkins and another man coming up into the room, wearing military uniforms. “Why have I come to this place?”

  “Look how he walks,” Shaltak says as Father Perkins and the other man make their way cautiously around the room, as if they're checking for something. “It's different now, isn't it? He has the sloping gait of a man who has entirely given up. Does fear consume his every waking moment, do you think? Is his faith gone?”

  “His faith could never be destroyed,” I reply firmly. “He is a true man of the Lord.”

  “Are you sure of that?”

  “His faith is greater than mine has ever been,” I continue, and once again I feel tears running down my face.

  “Are you really sure?”

  “I am,” I tell her. “With every fiber of my being.”

  “You have faith in him.”

  “I suppose I do, yes.” I watch as Father Perkins heads over to another doorway, where he stops and then crouches down. In that moment, I see that a thin wire has been left crossing the doorway, just a few inches from the floor. “You might have destroyed my soul,” I continue, “but David Perkins is too strong even for the likes of you.”

  “Found one,” Father Perkins says, turning to the other man. “It's not even that well-hidden. Do they think we're complete idiots?”

  “Looks simple enough,” his comrade says, heading over to take a look at the wire. “Standard procedure?”

  “I think so,” Father Perkins replies, before pausing for a moment and then turning to look this way.

  Our eyes meet.

  “No,” I whisper, as I realize that he can see me once more. “I refuse to let this happen.”

  “Say, Frank,” Father Perkins continues, looking up at the other man, “I just realized, I left my cutters outside. Stupid of me, I know, but could I ask you to go and fetch them for me?”

  “What are you talking about?” the man asks. “I saw you with your cutters just now.”

  “I'm telling you, I don't have them. Let's not waste any more time than's necessary, eh? I'm sure there are plenty more booby-traps in this street. Go and fetch the cutters, and we can get on with our job.”

  “But...”

  “There are a lot of people depending on us, Frank. We can't let them down.”

  The man hesitates, before sighing and heading back over to the top of the stairs. When he gets there, however, he stops and looks back toward Father Perkins.

  “I'm sure you had them with you,” he says. “Can't you check again?”

  “Believe me, I've checked,” Father Perkins replies, briefly glancing at me before turning back to the man. “It's dashed foolish of me, but I suppose I've been a little distracted this morning. You know what it's like sometimes. Now hurry up and fetch them.”

  “And you're sure you're okay?”

  “Why wouldn't I be?”

  “It's just...” The man pauses, before looking around the room. He doesn't look straight at me, not exactly. It's as if he senses my presence but doesn't quite see me. “I woke up in the night,” he continues, turning back to Father Perkins, “and I happened to look over at your bed, Davey. Now, maybe I'm losing my mind, but for a moment there in the dark, I thought I saw...”

  His voice trails off.

  “You thought you saw what, Frank?” Father Perkins asks.

  “This is going to sound stupid,” he continues, “but I remember you telling me about -”

  “I wouldn't worry,” Father Perkins says suddenly, interrupting him. “Like you mentioned, we're all going a bit crazy out here. Trust me, as a priest in my civilian life I get a lot of people coming to me with their problems, and I hear it all. The best thing is to keep it inside. The more you talk about it, the more real it can seem, and then you're trapped in a vicious circle. I once knew a...”

  He pauses for a moment.

  “I once knew a good woman,” he continues, “who let her fears overwhelm her. I don't think she knew how good she was, not really. She got battered down by some judgmental people who lived in the same village. And I
still don't understand exactly how she became what she became, but I rather think that part of the problem was that she let the fears become too real. So really, Frank, I'd say it's best to keep it all inside and focus on what is real. Otherwise, even the very best of us can be destroyed. Even the very best of women.”

  “He loves me,” I whisper, as I feel a sudden surge of hope in my heart. “He's defending me. He knows I'm not a monster.”

  “You might be right,” the man says with a sigh. “I don't want to end up in the loony bin, do I? I wish I'd got a new pair of cutters myself after I lost the last pair, though. Would've saved me this traipse. Back in a minute.”

  With that, he starts heading down the stairs, and he quickly disappears from view.

  “I knew you'd understand,” I sob, turning to Father Perkins and seeing that he's still crouched next to that wire, still watching me. “Can you hear me?” I continue, before stepping toward him. “Oh, I loved you for so long. I still do. I let myself become cruel and evil, I made the most despicable choices, but I was a good woman once, I swear. I still am, somewhere inside, but I let this thing into my heart and now I can't get it out. Father, can you help me? Perhaps your faith will still be enough to end this nightmare.”

  He pauses, before reaching out and putting a hand on the wire.

  “Father?” I stammer. “Can you help me?”

  “I tried praying,” he replies, “so many times. And do you know what? It didn't work. In the end, we're all alone. I look at the world now and I don't see any good in it at all. Only bad.”

  I take another step toward him.

  Suddenly he pulls the wire. In the blink of an eye, an enormous explosion rips through the room. I scream as I see the doorway disintegrate, and somewhere in the heart of the inferno I spot Father Perkins' body being blasted into pieces. Everything seems to slow down for a moment, and I stare in wide-eyed horror at the chunks of flesh and bone that spin wildly through the air. A wall of heat hits me and I feel the air rushing all around, and the noise is utterly incredible, and I start to think that perhaps this terrible wall of destruction will never end. Finally, however, it does end, and I am left standing alone in a room that has had one wall and a part of its ceiling destroyed.

 

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