XXI
Peek-a-boo!
The most bizarre of deaths had solved one problem, but the game of survival remained. Adam had seen enough of the peril beyond the Sodomite doorway to know he would never seek it out again but, still stranded upon Ben Macdui and with Becky unconscious, making sure they would both wake up safely in some warm Aviemore bedroom remained a momentous task in itself. The town seemed farther away the longer the night progressed and he was not at all comfortable with the possibility of the Grey Man coming to find him, having dared to use the doorways as he had. Any doubt of the being’s ability to cause physical harm had been satisfied most brutally. Lingering in his territory was less appealing than ever.
Few, if any, options were open to him if it turned out a chase was at hand and he was caught, but it was not the first time Adam had been challenged to persevere with nothing but faith that night. They could yet be slaughtered in the same way and the locals would probably have no idea how they met their end. Rather than seeking to hide, however, Adam set about completing the arduous task of carrying Becky to safety, this time heading directly to the summit and so to the steeper mountain descent that would result in a closer proximity to the town.
Fear of unworldly terrors proved useful on this occasion, providing him with much needed adrenaline as he retrieved Becky from the cloudy floor and returned to the snowy heights of Ben Macdui. Not once did he look over his shoulder at the wonders he had discovered, caring only to get his love to safety.
Across the summit he carried her, with Becky making no sign of waking even as the wind intensified and brought more snow. There was no subtle showing of their hand this time, the elements were taking control of the night, producing the type of snowfall one imagines to have been let forth on those memorable mornings when we wake to find the appearance of the world transformed. Negotiating the steepest parts of the subsequent descent would have been nail-biting had anyone watched it take place, but Adam had grown immune to the fear of slipping and falling considering all that had been endured and backed himself to complete the task so long as it was not complicated by hostile forces. Fortunately, if overconfidence was there, it did not cloud his judgement and he was able to reach the less treacherous slopes. Nervousness did remain, however, over what his muscles knew would be the greater task, being the miles to go before Aviemore and whether cold and exhaustion would kill them despite the cruelty and malevolence they had overcome through a well-placed blend of luck and resilience.
Another option was the bothy, but even that seemed too far for his aching limbs as he imagined having to negotiate higher ground again. Nevertheless, this might have proved the favoured choice if it were not for the packs Affleck’s shrewdness had foreseen should be deployed en route. Introducing himself to the warden really had been the best decision he had made on arriving in the Cairngorms and it is likely none of their achievements would have been possible if he had not dared to approach him in the inn that day.
Memory and good fortune were required to locate one of the packs he had in mind, for the snow had steadily hid them from view. Twice he thought he recognised the same lessening of the slope where he recalled discarding one of the objects, only to be disappointed, before a third desperate clawing at the snow brought forth a scratching sound that indicated his gloved hands had hit nylon rather than moss or rock. Even without Becky he might then have decided the one-man tent was the better option, but burdened as he was no such dilemma remained. Immediately he set about the task of assembling the meagre but life-saving structure, itself not an easy task in the snow and wind, but if seeing through the chore was all that was required to save Becky’s life then he was not about to let the attempt defeat him considering all they had overcome. Seeing her lying helpless in the snow throughout the process caused him some anxiety, but he came through in better time than he would have imagined from previous attempts and was soon able to get her safely inside, while feeling confident the slope sheltered them enough from the high winds to ensure they would last the night.
Becky he then wrapped as well as he could in the sleeping blankets, himself content that his body frame was warmed enough from the physical endeavours of the last few hours to see him through the night – though his face, toes and knuckles ached from the cold, his own body heat he could be sure of… unlike his companion’s. Once this final action was completed he found himself in a state of exhaustion he had never known and, laying down beside her, dared breathe a sigh of relief. Undertaking practical tasks had drained him of all concern for Fear Liath Mòr and he settled down with the notion that all disaster had been averted. The sound of Becky breathing deeply proved truly comforting and he began to look forward to seeing her eyes open some time in the hours ahead, before occupying his mind with wondering what blissful dreams she might have before waking… of mysterious realms of good will and healing.
Inner peace reached him then and he gave up on wishing the nightly hours away, conscious that a great deal worse might have transpired than their present situation. Rolling onto his side, he closed his eyes for a moment, not intending to sleep but, burned out as he was, slumber found him in quick time.
So, as our scientist himself has surmised, it is in times when we have successfully avoided one peril but collide with the coincidence of another that the game of survival is lost. Playing out the sin of ignoring his own wisdom once again, it is in Adam’s unprepared sleep that we in fact come to the crux of the matter. Many hidden threads had distracted our scientist from his original purpose, but it would turn out the path he set was an astute one, at least in terms of the conflict he desired to instigate. As for the outcome of the conflict, this had always been something he had left to the courtesies of chance.
Pathways might often appear confused and complicated but prove otherwise if made with a specific destination in mind; a focus on expelling the Old Hag from his lifeline had provided momentum for other events and he’d been mistaken to suppose the matter had been replaced by more pressing concerns. Rarely had the demon’s grip been loosened for long and, had Adam exercised the discipline he promised himself on setting out, he would have been better prepared for it tightening once more.
Is it a mark of modern living that we have difficulty accepting the notion of a quest? Had Adam interpreted his task as belonging to a higher purpose, like the knights of old, then he might not have discarded it so easily. Instead he spoke lightly of his purpose as being an ‘expedition’, which was soon discarded as soon as unseen complications distracted him from its ultimate goal. On a night that had not been shy of giving up secrets he had failed to think enough on the most personal discovery of them all, being the mark that he and Becky shared. Had he done so the merging of their stories might have warned him that, as on the night of the Ceilidh Becky’s own conflict would reach its conclusion, so too would his. The demons would come forth one last time to claim his soul for good if he could not find a way to withstand them… and all he did was sleep.
On what then happened to them, isolated and far from help in the shadows of Ben Macdui, there are two key suppositions – concerning Adam’s connection with the Old Hag – which I feel we can be sure of. The first is that, although the bonds between Adam and his tormenters were clearly not broken, the vision of those two unholy beings must have been clouded to some degree. Within the territory of the Grey Man there had not been the slightest impression of their closeness, or reminder of that maddening cackle, which he interpreted as being a result of proximity to the domain of a stronger spirit. The cowardly Hag had remained shy of playing the same game in a different landscape but now proceeded to break the habit for no clear reason other than ignorance.
The second supposition concerns the power exercised over Adam’s mind and body and, to appreciate this, it would be simpler just to tell you what happened…
Some time after hitting slumber – which cannot have been too great but enough for Adam to believe he had reached deep sleep – he was woken by the feeling of a familiar if inhuman presence
. Having fled the peril of the mountain and discarded all thoughts of his ‘expedition’, it hardly needs to be said that there was no plan for this new arrival – though in truth there never had been due to the paralytic state the Old Hag’s stare had always rendered him.
There it was again, manifesting with no regard for the tent cover that to Adam’s mind seemed absent, replaced by that intense glare sent forth from the darkness to place him under its yoke again; mocking him afresh for all the efforts of the last few days that had failed to sever those ethereal chains.
He knew only too well what came next, sensing immediately it was another of her intense visitations, rather than the mild kind where she cackled from afar or upset his breathing. Next came the accomplice Rape-a-boo followed by the obscene act that enabled the Hag to brag and delight in her power over him. Lying on his side, soon Adam became aware of that dense shape, devoid of the light and colour that even darkness keeps and growing to form the humanoid shape that wielded the Hag’s penis.
In such a manner countless visitations had preceded, but this time with the added shame of occurring beside his most precious friend who, though asleep, Adam felt would now be witness to his humiliation on some subconscious level – or so his initial fears led him to believe. But worse was in fact to come, for Adam’s naivety was about to be exposed in supposing he was the only victim on the menu. Evil is ever opportunistic and the Hag was not about to pass up the offer he had made in bringing a fresh participant to proceedings. Unlikely as it is that Becky would succumb to the same paralysing effects as Adam – not having been groomed from a young age in the same way – she was in a vulnerable state nevertheless, being lost in an unconsciousness from which it was impossible to assess when she was due to wake.
The next sensation Adam noticed was something quite unfamiliar. A diversion of Rape-a-boo’s focus. Did they know more of his heart than he dared believe, in recognising her value to him and the extent of their triumph? Or would any wench have proven of greater appeal there and then, an unwitting gift from a mortal to the demons of Hell that would never be refused? To Adam it mattered not, for the result would be enduring the worst of all nightmares he could have imagined. That the spiritual curse plaguing his life was to infect that nearest and dearest to him was too much to live with; he made a silent promise to Becky that he would kill himself as soon as the opportunity was available, then he closed his eyes and prayed for the tormenters to leave her alone.
But in that action salvation and empowerment finally reached Adam.
Having successfully shut his lids, the hypnotic link between that hellish gaze and his own self-control was broken. By the cleansing of the Lady of the Cave a great blow had been struck against that evil harpy, softening the coil within which the victim failed to squirm.
Realising what he had achieved, Adam undertook one more test, one small physical exercise – even as the accursed rapist moved to lean over Becky’s helpless figure – choosing to drum the fingers of his right hand which rested within sight, palm outstretched. Poised to take its pleasure, Rape-a-boo was about to embark upon an act two men had already died in pursuit of. ‘Twould have been an ill outcome for fate to conspire had Becky been subjected to the same abuse by unholy hand she had done so well to avoid by mortal one.
Mobility is a gift too often lightly appreciated, but Adam’s gratitude there and then would have overwhelmed any spirit that values the graciousness of mankind. Self-control was present where it had always been stolen and so a new battle was to commence – one that he was unprepared for but felt empowered in facing, rising from the position of helpless victim to active participant.
Terror still gripped him, but he gave them no more time, conditioned as he was by the anger of seeing Becky in danger that proved considerably more powerful. So it was that Adam was at last able to overcome that fear that had torn his life apart. Using his arms to propel himself upwards, he leapt from the tent floor, spinning around and aiming his hands where he knew the throat of Rape-a-boo would be.
Ghouls and ghosts are not made of physical matter, of course, so forming his hands around the demon’s throat proved his anus honest in declaring that entity to be a thing of matter.
Confusion and uncertainty interrupted his terror, the momentum of their bodies taking the tent fabric with them which flapped uncontrollably about them as it sought its own dance with the wind, but only for a few moments. Soon the clarity of face-to-face combat revealed itself as Adam, benefiting from the element of surprise, landed on top of his adversary with his hands still about its throat. In his deepest thoughts of vengeance he had pictured such a moment, turning the tables on his foe and becoming the aggressor. Such imaginings had placed great importance on the cowardice of their attacks, allowing him to suppose they might be weaker than he if chance to take on the devilish horde unhampered came about, like the bully who preys on the weak but cowers when the tables are turned. Too few were the straws he had to clutch at for such a conflict, however, and the reality itself was quite different, playing out to the tune of a nightmare once again.
The Old Hag at least seemed to have dissipated (he did not see her again), but Rape-a-boo did not leave so quietly.
Against any man his size it would have been hard to doubt Adam’s victory from that dominant position – his muscles at least partly recovered since carrying Becky – but the instinct of physical inferiority when grappling with a stronger opponent is one we all have, and even before the fight back began Adam doubted his ability to defeat that foe. Cats keep the teeth of mice out of reach while they torture them and the raping demon went about his work in a similar fashion. The demon was stronger than he after all. Much stronger. For sure greater physical forms exist beyond paradigm and bringing them into this world is perilous indeed. Impossible to tell if their physical contest was one any god had decreed should happen; maybe some afterlife awaits the best among us wherein we are greater than such hellish entities, but for Adam that unnatural conflict proved too much.
Familiar with unkind treatment perhaps, the demon responded quickly to finding itself unbalanced, throwing Adam from his position of superiority like a child who had gone too far in a play fight with his father. After all the progress and resilience of the night, none of it would matter as Adam realised that a fair contest would not follow the breaking down of barriers. Rape-a-boo turned the tables on him with ease and wasted no time toying with him further. Fun and games were over with and all that was left was to squeeze the life out of their toy, pausing not to mourn the loss of one plaything. One more demonstration of power was all that remained to conclude the matter, with Adam soon to find out whether purification or torment awaited and knowing not if death by unholy hand would send his soul to their pleasure once more.
Complete and total failure stared back from the emptiness where his foe’s face should have been. Defeat for Adam and most likely death for Becky too.
Several times throughout the day he had been called upon to fight, overcoming Stevens’ first assault and bettered on the second attack but through a mixture of luck and guile surviving once more. This third occasion, however, was out of his hands though he clung to consciousness still. Matters had not thus far been so desperate; outside help was needed if they were to survive.
On a night that featured many individuals looking to emerge as the chief orchestrator of events, it is perhaps fitting that the last say was to be had by the power whose purpose remains obscure. The Hag’s cloaked rapist may have been too powerful for Adam to overcome, but Rape-a-boo was not lord of the physical or supernatural territory into which he had been drawn. Unwittingly the demon carried out its crimes in the realm of the Fear Liath Mòr.
Afterwards, Adam realised that enormous figure had been in his frame of vision all along, but thirsty veins and a desperate bloodrush meant that the image had not registered. That was until the Grey Man stooped and, with one hand, took hold of the perturbed rapist as one might pick up a rag from the lawn. Adam might too have been
lifted into the air then, but that mightier grip succeeded in quenching the ferocity of Rape-a-boo’s and so his lungs were set free to gasp for air.
From then on, for all concerned, events would play out to the Grey Man’s will. Not that Adam was in any position to influence matters, so close had he come to blacking out completely and so he was not in the best position to savour an era of his life coming to an end. Adam’s ambitions had been to sever the link that gave them access to his body, but only in his sweetest imaginings had he pictured a scenario that saw one of his abusers destroyed.
Above him the giant was unhurried in his verdict, taking a few moments to study the creature in his grasp, wholly undeterred by the rage with which it thrashed and struggled. As a man might hold a cat by the back of the neck while it spits and claws at air, the Grey Man viewed unthreatened a ferocious and futile attempt at survival. There would be no collusion between those unholy fiends; the Shepherd did his job of protecting that territory from any malevolent spirit and was about to show how seriously he should be taken. Gripping that oversexed defiler with both hands, those mighty fingers proceeded to squeeze as one might a sponge, crushing whatever vile essence had been used to gift that damned bogeyman actuality. What physical substance that demon consisted of we cannot be sure. The shape it took may have mimicked our own form, but no blood or innards remained from the violence the Grey Man performed. Instead the shell of its being split and a cloud of dust burst forth from within, an eruption that spread and dissipated into the air before vanishing as soot on the wind.
The demon rapist was destroyed.
Any quests worth the name are dangerous endeavours, however, and even when complete Adam’s might still have claimed further life. Truly at the Grey Man’s mercy and guilty of being a nuisance on more than one occasion, he did not rate his chances highly when through the fading cloud that was Rape-a-boo came a grim and humourless expression he shall never forget. By those imposing eyes he was to be judged and by whatever law or instinct alien to our comprehension was at work. On many occasions mortals like him have been shepherded away from Ben Macdui’s sacred heights, shooed away as children from a building site. Lying there as he was, however, Adam had become a problem the Grey Man had to reach a decision on.
Even if vibrant life had returned to his veins and limbs there would have been no point in attempting some form of escape, so he was lucky that none was needed. The Grey Man might be an unfriendly presence better left alone, but his actions are not random or needless and, for whatever reason, he decided the wretched human beneath him did not need to be exterminated as if a common pest. Not bent upon slaughter, longershanks turned and left him unharmed.
Think not that a capacity for mercy meant the end of those strange events, however. The Grey Man did not stay disinterested for long. His attention was drawn by a third presence it had been against his character to overlook. On passing her by, a sudden change of direction betrayed the lofty fellow’s surprise when Becky, responding to the freezing breeze and snow upon her face, finally stirred from the slumber of deep healing and woke once more to the world. For her reaction to seeing the Grey Man poised above her, hand outstretched and about to pick her up, she can hardly be blamed. Becky screamed with the terror of someone who did not know whether she was alive or dead, did not understand what presence she faced or what was in store for her. Within our hearts we still hope that heaven hears such cries of despair, but that night heaven did not need to for the sight of Becky about to be taken into the unknown was enough to stir Adam’s limbs back into full use. Though still unable to make any sound and breathless from the effort, he sprung to his feet and ran to where Becky lay, heeding not the great figure of legend that crouched above. Whatever fate might have befallen, Adam showed we are not completely powerless in the shadow of greatness. His actions succeeded in presenting the Fear Liath Mòr with an ultimatum: that he would have to be destroyed first if the being was to appease whatever curiosity he had in Becky. Falling upon her before the reach was complete, Adam dared again to face the mystery that had drawn him to Ben Macdui in the first place, awaiting judgement for a second time.
I wonder if we can speculate that nothing sinister or harmful might have then befallen Becky, but the motivations of the Fear Liath Mòr in leaving some of us alive and hardly troubling others are not a part of my conclusions. All that remains left to tell is that the Grey Man lingered slightly, as he had before with Adam, before acquiescing to whatever frenzied will was being expressed.
Relief washed over them both as they watched the giant turn and begin his leisurely strides back in the direction of the Lairig Ghru. Salvation may have come about because of him, but Adam had had quite enough of being in the presence of the Fear for one lifetime and for Becky the phrase ‘brief encounter’ was desirable as well as appropriate.
Still the business of surviving the night was not through with, however. The tent was irretrievable, leaving them no choice but to flee that domain caught in the harsh elements of Scotland’s first winter storm.
Further into the valley they trudged, saying nothing of what on earth it was they had just been put through as they clung to each other for the small protection and warmth it offered. Becky voiced no demand for explanation as to how they had come there or why her wound was healed, knowing there would be no reason to understand anything if they were to die in the cold anyway.
‘It is the cold and the snow to fear here, not ghouls and ghosties,’ Affleck had warned. Fierce foes and otherworldly presence they had encountered and endured, but it seemed the grumpy warden might have the last say after all. Above them the sky offered no interest in whatever games man and god might play, now was the time for storm and blizzard; now was the time for mortals to seek their homes and log fires.
Slower and weaker they tread as the icy wind tore at their faces, daring not to take any guess at how much life-force was left in them, but even as his warning rang true, so too did Affleck’s very own wisdom and sense of responsibility for the lives of those who visited the Cairngorms. Indeed it was Affleck himself who found them, accompanied by Clyde in the four-by-four, the vehicle’s headlights proving to be their hope unlooked for when it appeared through the falling snow. Equipped as it was for harsh conditions, the vehicle had been negotiated as far along the mountain paths as was possible, coinciding with what might have been the farthest Adam and Becky would have reached before one of them collapsed. With great relief, four-fifths of the group that had assembled earlier in the bothy met up again and the many potential disasters of such an expedition upon Ben Macdui had been avoided.
Not Far From Aviemore Page 21
