Darkmoor

by Victoria Barry

  “Why? What do you need me for? Who are you?” Matthew demanded again, hoping to get some kind of explanation, but Darkmoor turned his back and encouraged the hungry wolf-lizards to feed.

  “No!” Matthew cried looking on at a helpless Catherine, who was hunched over on the floor.

  As Matthew’s voice spiralled up in the night sky, suddenly a blinding white light streamed over the crumbling castle walls. Filtering down through the theatre, it caused the wolf-lizards to stop their torturing, and immediately they dropped to the floor.

  “No!” Darkmoor whined covering his eyes to block out the powerful light.

  Unaffected by the light, Matthew looked up towards the top of the castle. Sat perfectly still upon one of the towers, was Dove. Beautiful, glorious, radiant light spiralled down from her wings, illuminating the darkness.

  With a graceful flutter, she lifted herself up into the sky. Swooping down towards Matthew, Dove released a protective fairy dust blanket over him.

  Dove glided peacefully towards Matthew. She was double his size, and her white calming eye’s smiled softly at him. Instantly the fear of Darkmoor washed away, and allowing himself to be wrapped up in Dove’s angelic wings, she cocooned Matthew into safety. Dove tilted her head and gently flapped her wing, taking Matthew to the calm sky above and out over the castle walls.

  Dove’s lightness faded and darkness returned. Darkmoor looked up at the calm sky and grunted. Clouds gathered above and a trace of fairy dust danced in the night sky.

  “No! That flaming Dove!”

  Turning back towards a whimpering Catherine, who was still hunched over on the theatre floor, he angrily commanded, “Throw her into the dungeons, he’ll come back for her. Then I will kill him!”

  ‘My head ... my head is throbbing!’

  I can feel the ground is soft underneath me, warm and soft. I slowly open my eyes.

  “What?” I’m back in my bedroom, quickly I jump to my feet. The sunlight is pouring in through the grubby old windows, that lovely homely smell of dirt, damp, dust and rot lingers through the air.

  ‘Was it all a dream?’ I think to myself whilst looking down at my hand. The cut from Crow’s razor shape beak has completely vanished, not even a scar is present.

  Not taking any chances I quickly flash my eyes along every tree branch, thankfully that clever crow is nowhere to be seen.

  ‘It seemed so real, but it can’t have been.’

  A faint knocking at the door interrupts me from my thought. Suddenly, I hear my Dad speak, so quickly I jump to my feet and race towards the top of the stone staircase.

  “Hello,” Dad’s voice says softly, then sure enough another person’s response.

  Breathing out a sigh of relief, I wait eagerly, anticipating Catherine’s voice. I wait, and wait, and wait, but nothing.

  ‘What are they talking about?’ I wonder.

  Slowly making my way down the staircase, Pete and Julie come into view. Reaching the bottom step I notice my Dad’s back turned towards me, and his head is hanging down towards the floor.

  As I step closer I realise that Julie is crying, whilst Pete is reassuring her that it’s going to be ok.

  ‘What will be ok?’ I begin to wonder. Before I have chance to ask, my Dad slams the door shut, places some sort of leaflet on the sideboard and walks past me shaking his head.

  Without exchanging words, I curiously look down at the glossy paper.

  “Catherine…” I whisper as I feel tears fill my eyes, “Catherine!” I shout out as my legs give way beneath me, once more the pain of Crow becomes ever present, and my hand begins to angrily throb. Deep red blood begins to pulsate breaking my skin, and as I grip the paper with Catherine’s face on, tears stream down my face. In disbelief I read the bold writing again,

  “10 year old Catherine Rose went missing four days ago

  at a car boot sale!”

  I sit myself down on the cold hallway floor. Minutes pass.

  Something moves. I anxiously glance towards the steps. There’s nothing there. I stare at the floor. It’s there again. The floor creaks and I look up to find a shadow cast on the landing above. I hit myself on the cheek to awaken myself, but I am awake. Another creak follows then an all too familiar outline of Crow. Pure fear overwhelms me, he’s calling me, gloating, reminding me that it wasn’t a dream after all.

  ‘I know it’s not over,’ I think to myself as his evil caw bellows out across the whole of Filius, and throughout the old Victorian vicarage.