The Creator

by Neil Carstairs

  ‘Why?’

  The sound came again and it lifted the flagstones under Ben. Pain flared into his head with flashes of lightning. Ben rolled back. He saw the boy a few yards away swing a sledgehammer above his head and bring it down hard onto the well’s capstone. The impact sent splinters of masonry flying. The hollow boom that resonated out could have been a bell to a semi-conscious man. Ben fought a wave of sickness as he pushed up onto his knees. He hung his head low, wishing he could just crawl away and go to sleep. Forever.

  The boy hit the capstone again. The sound brought Ben back from the edge of darkness. He came halfway upright and fumbled his gun out of the shoulder holster. It took another thirty seconds to find the safety catch. By then the hammer struck again and the stone fractured.

  The boy gave a cry of joy as he dropped to his knees. He pulled away a head sized piece of the carving. More fell inwards. A dark space opened on the floor of the church and the shade seemed to rise like a column of smoke. The boy stumbled back. Ben pointed the gun at him and tried to speak but no words came out. Ben closed his eyes. He spat and worked his tongue against the roof of his mouth. When he opened his eyes again the boy had come close. His eyes burned with a fierce hate. ‘You’re too late.’

  Ben pushed the muzzle of his gun into the kid’s chest. ‘What’s happening?’

  ‘He’s free.’

  Behind the kid, Ben saw the darkness form a cloud to fill the roof space of the church. It spilled between the eaves and arches and filtered out through the windows.

  ‘Who’s free?’

  ‘Scieppend.’

  The boy stepped back. Ben held the gun on him but knew he couldn’t shoot a teenage boy in cold blood. The kid knew it as well. He laughed. Ben saw movement at the lip of the well. Another shadow, part nothing and part something, crawled out of the hole. It rose, forming a shape of angular limbs and twisted claws. Ben scuttled backwards. He tried to focus his mind on moving but his limbs still didn’t want to react the way he wanted. Ben came up hard against the end of a wooden pew. The jolt made his head swim and again, his vision blurred.

  The boy seemed to enjoy Ben’s pain. He didn’t notice the thing from the well close behind him. A scythe shaped hand whipped forward. It thrust through the boy’s spine and out through his chest. Ben heard a shocked gasp come from the kid’s mouth before blood flooded out. Scieppend pulled him back as its second arm looped around and sliced open his stomach. Ben closed his eyes at the sight of the liquid spill of guts but he couldn’t block out the rainfall splatter as they hit the flagstones.

  Run!

  The voice echoed through Ben’s head. He opened his eyes and saw the creature feeding on the boy’s entrails. Using the pew for support he climbed to his feet. He swayed again, his head still not right from the earlier blow. Vision blurred. He waited precious seconds for his sight to clear. The closest door lay back over his left shoulder. A quick glance plotted the route. It was so dark now that he couldn’t make out the space between the columns that formed the narthex. The sound of feeding still came from behind him. Ben knew it wouldn’t last for long. If the thing had been under the church for centuries then the hunger would need an extra helping. With Ben top of the menu.

  He ran, or to be more precise stumbled, towards the first column and grabbed it on the way past. He used it as a kind of gravitational slingshot to direct himself towards the door. Ben fumbled for the heavy, circular handle, the clack of the latch sounding like a gunshot to his ears. He fell out into a cold, dark night. The sky seemed to pulse from black to dark grey. Ben staggered down the pathway. His feet tripped over the low edging stones that separated gravel from grass. He went down on his knees and stayed there, his head spinning, until a blood chilling howl echoed through the walls of the church.

  Back up on his feet, Ben found the boundary wall of the churchyard and ran along it until he reached the gate. As he stepped out onto the road lights blinded him, twin lamps that pinned him down. The vehicle braked to a stop next to him and he heard his name as hands pulled him into the cabin space. Ben sat up. He made out a couple of the Delta guys through the gloom as they looked at him with concern.

  Delta Two said, ‘You okay, Ben?’

  ‘No.’ Ben didn’t want to shake his head. ‘Get us away from the church.’

  No one questioned him. Delta Six drove and took them as far as the pub car park. The three Delta team soldiers got Ben out and sat him on one of the pub’s benches.

  ‘We’ve lost contact with Delta One,’ Two said to Ben. ‘Last thing we heard was that Natalie triggered her panic alarm. And then the sky went dark.’

  ‘I think the demon caused that,’ Ben said.

  ‘And did the demon hit you?’ Four asked as he examined Ben’s head with a flashlight.

  ‘No, a kid from the children’s home took me by surprise.’

  ‘I’ll make sure he doesn’t get near me,’ Four said with a smile.

  ‘He won’t,’ Ben said. ‘He’s dead.’

  Four looked at Ben in horror. ‘You killed a child?’

  ‘Not me. The demon killed him. And ate him.’

  ‘Jesus,’ Four said.

  The pub door opened and Ben saw the same barmaid who had served him and Kramer. Four took a step towards her and said, ‘Hello, can we get a glass of water for our friend, he’s got a bang on his head.’

  No answer, just a blank-eyed look that raised the hackles on the back of Ben’s neck. Four moved closer and the barmaid launched herself from the step. The blade of the kitchen knife she held caught the beam of Four’s torch as it rose and fell. The soldier reacted, he lifted his MP5 to deflect the blow off the barrel as the young woman fell on him. Four twisted as he drove the stock of the carbine into her face and she sprawled to the ground.

  Another figure replaced her in the doorway. The pub landlord had a stomach that stretched the waistband of his trousers to breaking point. Across his hip he rested a double barrelled shotgun, angled down to aim at Delta Four. Delta Two and Delta Six opened fire together. The landlord fell as their rounds ripped through his chest.

  Silence filled the world after the rattle of gunfire. Ben and the others stared at the feet of the dead man as they hung out of the doorway. Then Four screamed, half falling as the barmaid drove the blade of her knife deep into his thigh. The blade twisted as it pulled out of the wound. A torrent of blood followed. Four shot the barmaid without thought. Three rounds that broke her skull into multiple parts. Ben caught Delta Four and lowered the soldier to the floor. Four dropped his weapon and clutched the wound on his leg. Ben couldn’t see properly in the dark but the sound the soldier made wasn’t good.

  Delta Two recovered the dropped flashlight and pointed it onto Four. His trousers were already saturated and Ben could see the blood pool on the asphalt surface of the car park. Ben looked up as the sky began to lighten. He knew that Four would die because the knife had severed the femoral artery. Daylight returned as Delta Four bled out in his arms and the soldier died with a choking sob.

  ‘What the hell is happening?’ Delta Two knelt next to Ben.

  ‘I don’t know but I can only guess that the demon possessed these people.’

  ‘Just these two?’

  ‘I hope so,’ Ben said. He slipped Four from his arms and got to his feet.

  Delta Two said, ‘We’ve lost contact with the other half of our team. The last thing we heard was that Natalie had triggered her alarm and they were going in for her.’

  ‘What about Kramer?’ Ben asked.

  ‘No idea.’

  Ben leant against the camper. He felt weary. His head still ached but at least the dizziness seemed to be receding. He turned to look at the church. A haze formed around the bell tower, as if a swarm of locusts had descended upon the quiet English village.

  A quiet that broke to the sound of a child’s screams.

  ***

  With nothing to do but wait, Jane decided to let Emily have a television blitz. Emily settled onto the bed with a s
tack of pillows to support her and a pack of chocolate biscuits for company. As Emily worked her way through the morning’s Children’s BBC schedule Jane took her phone out of the room. She sat at the top of the stairs to call Pete. He’d stayed back at base in the hope to do some good by researching the history of Darlford.

  Listening to the sound of a wildlife programme filter from her room Jane said, ‘Emily seems quite settled. I was scared she would have some kind of vision fatigue if this village is as special as people think it is.’

  ‘I don’t even know if it is,’ Pete said. ‘As far as I can tell it’s a typical village that’s been around for enough centuries that the history books can’t remember why it was founded.’

  ‘What about this children’s home they’re visiting?’

  ‘I think Reuben is on that but I haven’t seen him this morning.’

  Jane didn’t reply. She liked the sound of silence when Pete was around. As if the quiet of his breathing gave her strength when she felt weak. He said, ‘Still there?’

  ‘Yes. Just missing you.’

  ‘When all this is over we’ll go on a long holiday somewhere hot with a pool for Emily and a bed for us.’

  ‘Sounds good,’ Jane laughed.

  ‘That’s because you’re insatiable,’ Pete said.

  Jane gasped. ‘Insatiable? You’re on thin ice there Mr Walsh.’

  ‘You mean I might be in your bad books?’

  ‘Absolutely.’

  ‘So I get to be punished?’

  ‘Peter Walsh,’ Jane said. ‘I think the tag insatiable might apply to you more than me.’

  They laughed together until Jane noticed the fading light. ‘Pete? Have you heard the weather forecast today?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘The weather forecast. It’s gone awful dark outside. Like there’s storm coming.’

  ‘They don’t get the kind of storms we get back home,’ Pete said. ‘At least not often.’

  Jane rose to her feet. She descended a few steps to get a better look through the window at the sky. It seemed to have grown even darker. ‘Pete?’ Jane heard the quaver in her voice.

  ‘Jane? I can only just hear you.’ Pete’s voice broke up as the line crackled. ‘I guess there must be an electrical storm.’

  ‘I haven’t seen any lighting.’ An unspoken urge made her retreat back up the stairs.

  ‘Could be miles away,’ Pete said and again a wash of static faded him into the background.

  ‘It’s not a storm. This isn’t natural, Pete.’ No reply, just a hiss like surf breaking upon the shore. ‘Pete?’

  Jane looked at the phone. That did no good. She reached back and guided herself along the wall in the near dark. Jane’s hand found the door handle and she pushed into her room.

  ‘Mommy?’ Emily’s voice sounded a hundred miles away.

  ‘I’m here, sweetheart.’

  ‘What’s happening?’

  ‘I don’t know. Have you had any...feelings?’

  ‘No. I tried and I can’t see a thing.’

  Jane made her way to the bed, relieved when she finally found her daughter’s hand. ‘We’ll wait here. I’m sure this is only a temporary thing.’

  They sat together. Just like the phone signal, the television had gone off as well. Jane thought she heard a floorboard creak in the house. Outside she did hear a car engine rise and fall away to nothing. Beside her, Emily whispered, ‘I see him.’

  ‘Who?’ Jane asked, even though she didn’t want to know the answer.

  ‘The Creator,’ Emily said. ‘Mommy, I’m scared.’

  Jane wrapped her arm around Emily. ‘Be brave,’ she said.

  They jumped at the bang, bang, bang sound of gunfire. Jane breathed in Emily’s scent. She took comfort from her daughter’s closeness. The darkness seemed to lift. The television came alive again with a shocking blare of noise and colour that made Jane wince. The sound covered the knocking on the bedroom door. It took a few seconds for Jane to realise someone wanted to get in. Jane stepped to the door and said, ‘Who’s there?’

  ‘Margery. I need to come in.’

  As Jane touched the cool metal of the handle she heard Emily say, ‘Don’t open the door.’

  Too late. The latch released and Margery pushed hard. The old lady threw as much weight as she could against the door. Jane slid back and saw Margery’s thin arm reach into the room. She held a carving knife and swung it towards Jane. The blade missed, scoring a long strip of paint from the door. Jane pushed back, both hands on the door and forced Margery back onto the landing. Jane found herself battling a crazy old lady for control of the only way into the room.

  Unless.

  ‘Emily,’ Jane shouted over her shoulder. ‘Can you get the window open?’

  Jane risked a quick glance and saw Emily jump from the bed. The sash windows didn’t look as if they had been opened more than an inch in decades. Emily pulled hard with no result.

  Margery hit the door hard. Jane stumbled back and the old woman came in, a manic grin on her face. Jane kicked her in the thigh enough to slow the old woman and then kicked her in the stomach. Margery fell out of the room. Jane got hold of the door and slammed it shut. Margery cursed and Jane saw the old woman’s foot trapped between door and frame.

  ‘Mommy, I can see the soldiers. They’re here.’

  ‘Here?’ Jane’s relief made her relax and Margery forced the door again. The blade slashed close to Jane’s face.

  ‘Not here. Along the road.’

  Jane had control of the door again. She’d got Margery’s knife hand trapped and for the moment no threat. Jane said, ‘Get them here. Get them here.’

  The door bounced as Margery kicked it. Jane’s feet slipped and the door opened.

  Behind her, Emily screamed.

  ***

  Delta Six stepped out into the road as he searched for the source of the screams. The tiniest of movements caught his eye as a hand waved at an upstairs window a hundred yards down the road. He pointed, ‘Down there. The white cottage.’

  Ben knew who was screaming. He grabbed Delta Four’s MP5 and ammunition and said, ‘It’s Emily.’

  Delta Two followed Ben as he ran across the road and along the narrow footpath. He could hear Emily’s screams get louder as he passed Ben. Delta Six reached the cottage first and tried drop kicking the front door but got nowhere. Delta Two didn’t bother with the niceties. He shot the front lock away with two bursts and went into the cottage. He cleared the narrow hallway and took the stairs up.

  An old lady with wild grey hair had her back to him. She had forced herself halfway into a bedroom and Two saw Jane on the floor as she kicked up at a knife the old lady held.

  Delta Two made a noise halfway between a shouted order and a bellow of anger. The old lady turned. Two saw the same black eyes that he’d seen in the pub landlord and needed no further information. He shot the old lady in the head and as she fell stepped over her body to check the room. Ben came upstairs as Delta Six cleared the rooms on the ground floor. Two left Ben to look after Jane and Emily. He moved through the bedrooms and bathrooms to make sure no-one else with black eyes waited inside.

  When Two returned to Emily’s room the girl and her mother sat on the double bed, arms around each other. Ben stood by the window. When he saw Two he said, ‘There’s more of them coming. Couple of guys with hammers and a woman with a rolling pin.’

  Delta took would have laughed if a woman with a knife hadn’t just killed one of his team. ‘Is there a back way out of here?’ he asked.

  ‘No idea,’ Ben said. ‘We always came in and out the front.

  ‘Where are those people now?’

  ‘Just coming up the garden path.’

  ‘We’ve got company coming to the front door,’ Two shouted down to Six. ‘Kill them.’

  They waited for a moment in the bedroom. Jane put her hands over Emily’s ears. It did little to stop the girl hearing the three short bursts of sub-machine gun fire as Delta Six put the
men and woman down.

  ‘We need to get in contact with Delta One,’ Two said. ‘See what the situation is with him.’

  ‘No,’ Emily said. ‘You need to go to the church.’

  ‘The church?’ Delta Two frowned. ‘Why?’

  ‘Because the Creator is getting ready to rule the world. We have to stop him.’

  ‘The Creator?’ Delta Two looked from Emily to Ben.

  ‘Scieppend,’ Ben said. ‘The Creator. The demon from the well.’

  ***

  The stand-off in the reception hall of the children’s home stretched long enough for another four kids to arrive. Two came down the wide stairway, the others from a corridor to Kramer’s left. They all had black eyes and the same blank stares. All the kids, and Kramer still saw them as kids despite their eyes, lined up across the hall. They stood between the adults and the front door. The lack of movement and expression in the children spooked Kramer the most. Her one positive thought was that at least they weren’t carrying weapons.

  ‘What’s going on?’

  The female voice made Kramer jump. She looked up the stairway to see a middle-aged woman hurry down towards them. She looked and acted completely normal which came as a relief to Kramer.

  ‘Who are you and why are you...Are those guns?’ She stopped in her tracks.

  Kramer recognised her now as the woman who had been with the boy when she and Ben visited the home. Standing next to Kramer, Delta One said, ‘We’re army personnel. There has been an environmental incident that has contaminated this area.’

  ‘Army?’ the woman came a few steps closer. ‘Why are the children standing like that?’

  ‘We think the toxic spill may have affected them,’ Delta One said. ‘Can I ask who you are?’

  ‘Madeline Fall,’ the woman said as she studied the children. ‘I’m a social worker with the county council. When was this toxic spill?’

  ‘Last night,’ Delta One said.

  ‘I don’t live here,’ Madeline said. ‘I travelled in from home this morning. Perhaps that’s why I haven’t been taken ill. Where are Josh and Carla?’