Chapter Three
“Gehenna.”
Across the globe, people are embracing all that is festive. Twinkling lights in an array of different colours brighten the darkness. Delightful looking decorations are displayed both inside and out, mesmerizing all who see them. Fires are aglow and stockings hang from mantelpieces, just waiting to be filled with treats. Accepting the challenge, families wrap an extensive number of gifts for loved ones near and far, whilst drinking mulled wine and listening to Christmas music. Some love-smitten couples even have a cheeky snippet of mistletoe or two dangling from their doorframes. What an incredible time to be alive. Most of the population are celebrating, sharing their love and appreciation for one another. And why not? After all, ’Tis the season to be jolly.
But sometimes, just sometimes, there isn’t an awful lot to be jolly about, and there’s one home in the south of England where the mood is most definitely the opposite of festive. The Honey residence sits upon the cold, dark, crisp winter seafront without a single fragment of this festive time of year showcased upon it. Indeed, the only light that can be seen is from the lamppost on the street front, which is flickering on and off. With each flash of golden light, a thin layer of fog is revealed, and it is developing at a rhythmic pace. Icicles form on everything it grazes. Jack Frost has begun his reign of supremacy. The house and grounds are neglected and unattractive. The overgrown bushes, dead plants and brown grass are coated with a thin layer of frost. And the interior decor isn’t any brighter. There’s not a single strand of vibrant tinsel. Not a glisten from any twinkling lights. No personalised, embroidered stocking hanging from the fireplace. Nor a snippet of bright green, crunchy mistletoe dangling from a single doorway. There isn’t even a tree with a giant star on top. Nope, not a single item present inside the Honey residence to indicate that Father Christmas is soon to arrive. The central heating system is turned to maximum and the fire is lit, so at least the temperature inside the house is cosy.
Matthew Honey enters the dayroom and sees Phil Parkinson sitting in his usual spot by the window looking extremely pleased with himself, staring at his phone.
“Right, come on, who are you texting with that goofy smile on your face?” Matthew asks.
“No one,” Phil responds, with a rather sheepish expression on his face. He attempts to cover his phone.
“As if it’s no one… For the past two weeks you’ve been looking at your phone every minute of the day like you’ve got a schoolboy crush. Spill – who is it that’s making you blush every five minutes?”
“Erm, mate, it’s no one. Honest.” Phil awkwardly squeezes his phone inside the rather tight front pocket of his jeans.
“What are you being ridiculous for? Just tell me who it is.”
“There’s nothing to tell.”
“So, just to be clear, you expect me to believe that there’s nothing to tell when you’ve had that thing glued to your hand, hip or ear for the past two weeks? And not only that, but you’re giggling like a child and having what you think are secret whispered conversations in your room at night. Oh yeah, you think I can’t hear ya.”
Phil says nothing.
“Okay, fine, be that way. I’m going upstairs to do some work.” As he leaves the dayroom in somewhat of a huff, Matthew mumbles to himself, “I’m not sure what the bloody big deal is anyway.”
He shakes his head as he climbs the spiral staircase. As is his usual ritual, he stops by Eve’s bedroom door, places his forehead and his hands on the wood and breathes deeply. As he exhales, he gently whispers, “I love you.”
Smiling, with deep sorrow in his eyes, Matthew kisses the wood and walks away. The pain he feels is just as strong today as it was the day his daughter was cruelly taken. Wiping the small tear that has fallen from his eye and clearing his sniffling nose, Matthew quickly composes himself. Putting his hand inside his trouser pocket, he retrieves a golden key. Fiddling with this as he reaches the door to his office, Matthew gently graces his fingertips over the golden Creation Station plaque. Once again, tears form in the corners of his eyes. No matter how much time passes, the grief he feels for the loss of the only two women in his life consumes him with every memory. Closing his eyes and shaking his head, he snaps back into reality. He turns the key and enters the room. Restored to its previous organised manner, the office has become the headquarters for their mission to get their children back.
The walls are plastered with what can only be described as an investigation storyline. There are images and possible links and leads to the whereabouts of the children. Matthew lets out a huge sigh at the thought of the overwhelming amount of work still left to do. Seating himself at his desk, he lifts the top of his laptop and switches the device on. While he waits for it to fire up, Matthew picks up a framed image of Eve, the last known photo of her, taken from her social media account. He places his two forefingers to his lips and kisses them softly. Touching the glass where Eve’s forehead is on the image, he says, “I will find you and bring you home, my darling. You have my word. I will search the ends of the earth to bring you home where you belong, make no mistake about that.”
Placing the picture back in its perfect spot, Matthew opens the top drawer of the desk, rummages around and takes out the crucifix that Reverend Andrew gave to him. “Hmm, I’m yet to find out how you fit into the puzzle.”
The door creaks and Matthew jumps.
“Sorry, mate. Didn’t mean to scare ya,” says Phil.
“No, don’t worry about it. I was just—”
“Look,” Phil butts in, “before you continue, I just want to say I’m sorry about what happened a moment ago. It’s just, well, you know, a sensitive subject.”
“Phil, what you have to understand is I’ve come to learn that everyone deals with grief differently. Some have the ability to move on quicker than others. And to be honest, I see this as a blessing because they get to find some form of new peace in life. Others hold guilt and are unable to move forward with their lives. The guilt that I have will not permit me happiness whilst my Lauren no longer breathes. Will this last for all eternity? Probably, because my Lauren ain’t ever coming back.” Matthew shakes his head and smiles ironically as he continues, “And then look at what happened. When I slowly started to accept that moving on was a possibility for me, I brought a path of devastation upon our family in the worst possible way. I lost the one person I promised I would keep safe. I mean—”
“Matthew, please, you don’t have to—”
“Phil, it’s fine. I’m fine.”
“Fine? You know what fine means, right?”
Grinning slightly, Matthew says, “Yes. Fucked up. Insecure. Neurotic. Emotional.”
“See, so how can I not be concerned about your reaction?”
“Phil, if you can process the loss of Alice and move on, then I hold no ill feelings and wish nothing but happiness for you. If you have found someone who can ease your pain and make you smile again, then please don’t feel as if you have to hide it from me. You are my friend and I will always want what’s best for you. I mean, don’t get me wrong, on a personal level, I won’t understand it because of my own shit and the burden that I carry, but know that I would never begrudge you happiness.” Fumbling with the crucifix in his hand, Matthew sighs. “All I ask is that you promise you’ll keep your head in the game.”
“Of course, mate, that goes without saying.”
“Well, as long as you don’t lose sight of the real mission, I will wish you all the best. You have my word.”
“I don’t know what to say.” Phil smiles. “Erm, thank you, I suppose, for being so accepting. And please know, finding our children and returning them all home safely is, and always will be, my priority. Believe me, this wasn’t an easy thing to do. At first, of course I was nervous because of what happened to you. But I just had to let go of that because, really, what else has anyone got to take from me? I’ve alread
y lost my wife and our children. There’s nothing left. My life has already been taken. So why not take the risk? I mean, I just think, come on, give me your best shot, because it can’t get much worse than this, can it?”
“Very true, my friend.”
Phil hangs his head and begins twiddling his fingers. “It gets really lonely and depressing at times, especially as I’m still in recovery and want to pick up a bottle at least once or twice a day. I suppose Selena helps ease the pain. She’s really great at talking me down off the ledge in my darkest moments.”
“Oh, Selena. So we’ve gone from nothing and no one to a name now. Aw, that’s truly great. Seriously, I’m happy for you. Come on then, how did you guys meet?” Placing the crucifix on the desk, Matthew gets comfy in his chair, ready to hear the gossip.
Scratching the back of his head, Phil looks hesitant.
“Just spit it out. What do you think I’m gonna do?”
“I know, I’m just…”
“Phil, just tell me how you guys met.”
Taking a deep breath in, Phil says, “Okay, well, it was before I got sober. Remember that time when I was late for the meeting at Scotland Yard with Terry when he told us he wanted to help us an all that?”
“Yeah.”
“Well, that day when you knew I was in the pub and you told me I better sort myself out, sober up and get my arse to the meeting, well, Selena was in the pub and she was the only person who gave enough of a shit to try and help me. Even when she thought I was married, because I was wearing my wedding ring, she said that she didn’t want me to go home to my wife in the state I was in.”
“Wait, so you’ve been chatting to each other for that long?”
“No, no, no, no. I mean she gave me her number, but I never reached out. Then about two weeks ago I saw her standing in the hairdressers when I was walking to get something to eat. She looked at me through the window and she just gave this massive smile when she saw me. I waved and she came running out and gave me a huge hug and asked me why I’d never text her? So I told her I’d been busy and she grabbed my phone and rang herself from it so she had my number. And from that point on, we’ve been texting back and forth and have been chatting on the phone pretty much daily.”
“Aw, I’m happy for you Phil. I really am.”
“Matthew. Please know that she will never replace my Alice.” Phil hangs his head as he plays with the wedding band, which he now wears on his right hand. “No one will ever replace her. She will always be my angel and much like you, I will stop at nothing to make sure that I get all our beautiful children back where they belong, even if I have to die trying. It’s the least I could do – after all, I was the one who, you know, left them all.”
Matthew smiles a sympathetic smile. “I understand.”
“Thank you. That means a lot. I suppose it’s just nice to have some female attention at times. Stops me feeling like a worthless piece of shit.”
“Phil, honestly, I know. It’s all good.”
The pair sit in silence.
Tapping Phil on the knee, Matthew turns to face his laptop and opens the web browser. He types Gehenna in the search bar and hits enter. Phil pulls up a chair next to Matthew.
“What’s this you’re searching?” Phil says as he leans in close.
“Just looking into a hunch I have.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well, last night I had a very vivid nightmare.”
“You haven’t had one of them for a while now.”
“I know, and this one was horrifying. Sort of like a lucid dream.”
“Oh, what was it about?”
Pausing for a moment as a shiver travels rapidly down his spine, Matthew turns to face Phil. “It was so scary and felt real. I was trapped in a graveyard and I couldn’t find any way of escaping. It was pitch black everywhere. Even the sky didn’t have the moon or a single star in it. I could literally feel and hear every beat from my heart as it was racing. I remember frantically searching for an exit, but one never appeared. I could see headstone after headstone, and it was terrifying because I knew I was standing on ground that had decaying bodies underneath it. I could smell the rotting corpses. And if I’m totally honest, I couldn’t help but think one of them was gonna come back to life, reach out of the ground and grab my ankle or something.”
“Ew, mate, that sounds grim.”
“That’s not the freakiest bit.” Matthew says as he scratches his head. “The centre of the cemetery suddenly became all misty. And then it was like as soon as it appeared and I noticed it, it began drifting away. Once it disappeared, I could see in its place a table set up for two people. I mean, this table looked immaculate – white tablecloth, red rose in the centre, glowing candlelight, prestige silverware and thick, expensive looking napkins in the shape of a heart. There were two wooden chairs facing one another, and the scene just felt, familiar, and I didn’t know why. I turned to see if there was anyone behind me, and when I turned back around I could see myself sat at the table with a glass of wine in my hand laughing. But it wasn’t me as I am now, I was like an illusion of sorts. How can I explain it…? I sort of looked like a ghost version of myself.”
Scratching his head, Phil replies, “That’s weird.”
“Well, when I got closer, I noticed I wasn’t alone.”
“Huh, who was sat with you?”
“You’ll never guess. It was that evil bitch – Jess. She was sat at the table with me and she was laughing, too.”
“What? The real—”
“I swear, Phil, I got so mad. I charged at her… and ran right through her and came out the other side. I fell flat on my face on top of a grave. I jumped up, but she hadn’t so much as flinched. I lifted myself up and suddenly realised that this was a moment in time that I knew. A moment that I’d once belonged to. It was in fact my second dinner date with her.”
“How did you know that?”
Matthew’s expression becomes animated as he explains. The pieces are beginning to fall into place as he relives the nightmare. “It all became clear when I saw Daniela. He was our waiter that night and I could see him pouring our wine. We were talking amongst ourselves and laughing but I couldn’t hear any words. And then, all of a sudden, as clear as day, I heard her say, ‘I’m from Gehenna’. And just like that, I woke up.”
“Mate, that’s freaky.”
“Surely that can’t be a coincidence, right?”
“No mate, I think there’s defo something in that. Where is Gehenna? I’ve never heard of it.”
“Well, when I woke up, I instantly remembered that date. And I remembered asking her where Gehenna was as I’d never heard of it myself and she’d said that I never will. Mate, I think if we go where she’s from we might discover something that could possibly lead us to a way to get rid of her once and for all and get our children back.”
“Yeah, but is it even a real place?”
“Let’s find out.”
Matthew scrolls through the search results. He stops when his attention is drawn to an image of what can only be described as the human mind’s true vision of hell. Burning bodies upon burning bodies. They lie on the ground in a heap, surrounded by fire. Leaning closer to the screen, Matthew realises that the burning bodies are children.
“Mate, what in the Lord’s name is this?” Phil asks.
Ignoring his question, Matthew reluctantly guides the cursor of the mouse and clicks the image. As he takes a deep breath in, a full article about Gehenna loads on the screen. In bold letters, the headline reads, Gehenna, the Tainted Valley of Hinnom in Jerusalem. Looking at Phil he says, “Well, here goes nothing.”
And so, the article reads:
Gehenna, the Tainted Valley of Hinnom in Jerusalem
The things they will never tell you
Written by Hermon Shimai
Gehenna, w
hat a tangled web you weave. The desolate land of sacrificed individuals. A tragic place on earth where tiny lost souls remain, aimlessly wandering the grounds without a place to go. Sad, right? Well, here is an alarming fact I thought I’d share with you: it is said that when the moon is at its full capacity the screams of the young can still be heard for miles. Yes, terrifying screams from once vulnerable young people.
Upon the land of the living is the devastating aftermath of a hideous event that took place many years ago. Those who know the tales of this land will think I have lost my mind for documenting this; however, I feel it is my necessary duty to warn the world of what I have witnessed in my mind’s eye, what I have learned and how the curse upon the Valley of Hinnom is real.
If you do not know anything about Gehenna, and this is your first time coming across such an article, then brace yourself, because you are in for a rude awakening. I’m cautious that it is my duty to warn you in before I deliver the harsh truth. Gehenna, in Jerusalem, which is my family heritage home, is positioned just eight or so kilometres away from where Jesus was born. Yes, yet again, you read right! Our Christ Saviour came into holy grounds and graced the world with his arrival on earth. Blessed, surrounded by love and cradled with care, our little Lord Jesus was embracing his new surroundings. And yet, he was blissfully unaware of the unholy acts that would one day take place not too far away. Acts of sin that would be committed in one of the valleys of Gehenna. A valley that would hold one of the darkest secrets.
Are you still interested?
Well, not to seem too abrupt, but it gets worse. Cursed and positioned south of Mount Zion, this unloved location witnessed events that would torment the living for all eternity. Yet we are never taught about this distressing period. People wince and go silent when questioned about what they might know on the subject. Tight-lipped and afraid of the repercussions, those who live in Jerusalem do not wish to discuss the events that unfolded in the tainted Valley of Hinnom. And, unlike most myths that seem to dwindle away over time as life goes on, this one has stuck. Those who live in Jerusalem stay as far away as possible from the tainted Valley of Hinnom. Not a single living soul exists upon this land. So, I’m guessing you want to know the true reason for the hostility towards the Valley of Hinnom. Well, I will not disappoint you. And yes, this is indeed the part where you need to brace yourself.
The Broken IV: Vengeance Page 3