Immediately Poppy had an eerie feeling of dread that came directly from the look of unbridled horror residing her mum’s eyes. Suddenly she could feel a tide of panic rising and somehow sensed that the fear was not hers but her mums. Then she gasped with horror as Images of an empty cot flashed across her mind’s eye and settled in her memory, more images exploded on her mind like memories of long forgotten dreams.
Fleeting glimpses of a strange Goyle lurking menacingly on their doorstep melt and are replaced with baby Nathaniel asleep on a sea of cockroaches, as the tide of marching insects carry him through the woods and into the night. Then Jesse appears in the vision, Poppy physically feels his terror and his panic as he tries to escape from something terrible.
Thousands of voices, desperate and whispering at first become a din, an unbearable white noise in her ears. As the dizzying cacophony reaches its crescendo, Poppy screams and falls to her knees.
“He’s gone!” She whispered. “He’s been taken... I know it!” Tears began to well in her eyes as she crumpled to the floor. “Nathaniel’s gone Mum...! The Cockroaches have taken him!”
Mrs Anne Darke ignored her daughters’ words and climbed out of bed. She walked slowly, almost as if she were putting off the inevitable, to the baby’s room. There she stood with her hand on the door handle and prayed to all the gods that her little one would be there when she opened it.
“Please be there...!” Poppy begged, but somehow she already knew. ”Please be there!”
There was a special place in her heart that only her baby brother gave warmth to. Even on the darkest of days all she had to do was think of his little smile and it would make everything alright. That place was now as cold and empty as his cot.
A mournful groan of desperate misery suddenly erupted from the nursery and seemed to shake the house to its very foundations. Poppy curled up on the floor and clasped her hands tightly over her ears, not to shut out the sound, but to shut out the world. Midnight staggered to the bottom of the stairs freshly roused from his magic induced sleep. Sniffing the air he growled warily as he sensed the remnants of a curse still floating on the draught, his powerful nose also detected that young Nathaniel was not home.
Then he sniffed the steps, the banisters and the walls. More magic, and something big had gone that way, he growled again and wondered why his master had not called him to the battle. There was an absence of blood, demon or otherwise nor was there any trace of death.
His teak brown eyes began to glow red like the embers in a fire and with each step his growing, razor like claws began to rip and tear into the wooden floorboards beneath his paws. His body expanded and mutated as rippling muscle piled up under his glossy coat. Doubling in size his head grew to accommodate the jagged teeth that lengthened into sharpened enamel daggers. As he reached the landing a steaming collar of molten steel appeared around his neck, the metamorphosis was complete.
Poppy lay on her side just inside one of the bedrooms, she was rocking backwards and forwards and mumbling something that Midnight couldn’t understand. She was alive so he nuzzled her shoulder gently and what to him was a whine came out as a throaty growl when he got no reaction. Next he checked on Anne, she was in the nursery on her knees and crying hysterically... Clearly alive, here was a human that troubled Midnight greatly... There was just something about her scent, something strange, it was human alright but it held traces of....
Midnight sniffed the air and was alarmed to sense his master had slept through everything. His door was closed so he nudged it softly in the hope it would open, in the event, it flew across the room and smashed to pieces on the far wall.
He entered the room with the arrogance of a creature that would protect his master at all costs and one that simply could not die. The aroma of magic was stronger in this room; his sharp senses recognised a sleeping curse. Thankfully the old man was not dead and would soon wake and as for the baby, the creature which had taken him would have tried to cover his scent trail.
But it wouldn’t hurt to go hunting and maybe if he was lucky he might just get to rip the thing to shreds and save the little one, as he leapt from the window and changed back into his alter ego, he wondered which one would make his master more pleased.
A deep chill swept across the room and seemed to penetrate the thick duvet. Beneath Nathanial shivered and opened his eyes, immediately sensing magic in the air he tried to rise but failed and slumped back down into his pillow.
His mind was groggy but the magical words came easy and soon the evil curse had fled in fear through the open window. Fearing the worst the old man dressed quickly and ran out onto the landing only to be met with a sight that confirmed his worst fears.
Anne Darke sat on the floor, her face swollen and red from crying. She held her daughter tightly against her chest and sobbed into her blond hair. “Wake up Poppy.” She cried but the youngster seemed limp and lifeless in her arms. “What have they done to her?”
The old man knelt and checked Poppys pulse, and then he tilted her head to one side and looked into her eyes. “She’ll be alright Anne; it looks like catatonia ... Give her to me.”
As he lifted the child into his arms he couldn’t help but notice the mobile telephone on the floor beside his daughter in law. “What have you done?” he said as he lay Poppy back on her bed and covered her with a blanket. He turned back to Anne who was now standing in the doorway. “Who have you called?”
“The police are on their way!” She spat.
Nathanial gave a loud sigh and shook his head in resignation. “They’ll ask questions... Dammit! You know we never involve outsiders in our battles.”
Anne moved over to poppy’s bed and sat on the edge. “This is not one of your battles... My son has been abducted by only god knows what, and I want him back. Your precious magic is a thing of the past, there’s no place for it in the modern world.”
“For Pete’s sake Anne...”
“No... This is no Harry Potter Film... This is real life and people die for real.” More tears appeared and rolled down her cheeks as she stroked her daughter’s hair. Anne frowned as she grabbed a handful of the blond locks and tilted them toward the window. “Look!” She said. “Is it my imagination or is Poppy’s hair changing colour?”
Nathanial had to agree. “I don’t remember it being quite so... Well... Golden!”
The question suddenly became irrelevant as the wail of police sirens swept into the village. Within minutes there were half a dozen police cars blocking the village off and an ambulance sat right outside the house. Blue police tape kept an ever burgeoning crowd at bay until someone took charge and organised a search of the surrounding countryside.
Awareness crept into Poppy’s mind like the flow of the tide across the sand; in her semi-conscious state she had more visions. There was an ITN news crew outside on the village green, they had video cameras and huge satellite dishes on top of their vans. The images came to her like silent films, only these were in colour. The scene suddenly changed to the fields and woods surrounding Burnham. Every single man woman and child from the village was out scouring the countryside for a trace of the missing infant.
Poppy suddenly realised that she could hear their thoughts: Mrs. Hope the mobile hairdresser was thinking about how she would pay her mortgage this month, she was also thinking that the baby was dead and that she’d always thought those Darkes were a strange family and it served them right for being so weird. Big Dave was wondering what he would have for dinner, he was starving but he wouldn’t eat until he’d found that poor little boy. Then there was a girl of about nine years old she was searching harder than anyone but what made her stand out was the fact that she was using that little voice in her head to pray.
The sensations and thoughts from these people became over whelming to the point of agony and then suddenly stopped as the image moved back inside her living room. A policeman was talking to her mother and grandfather. She couldn’t hear what they were saying and image moved perspective se
veral times. On the last move she found herself standing right in front of her Granddad. Just at the second when Poppy thought he had seen her she woke up in her own bed.
She felt very strange... Different from before. She held her hands up and looked at them but they seemed perfectly normal, she still had eight fingers and two thumbs. Infact they were a little too perfect, Poppy had always chewed her finger nails but now they were virtually manicured. A scramble under the duvet showed her toe nails were also perfectly shaped and polished.
Picking up a hand mirror she gazed wide eyed into it and gasped with shock. Try as she may she simply could not tear her eyes away from the reflection. For staring back at her was virtually a stranger. This Poppy had the deepest of blue eyes, her complexion was perfect. Gone were the black heads and other spots, all of her favourite scars were missing. The face seemed somehow older and when she opened her mouth her teeth were perfectly white and straight. Then there was her hair, someone had dyed it golden while she slept and even more strangely lengthened it by about five inches. The cry went out.
“Mum... Mum get up here... Get up here now!” She screamed.
There was an almighty scramble of footsteps before a crowd appeared at her bedroom door. “What is..?” Anne stopped mid-sentence and stared at the person lying in her daughter’s bed. After composing herself she turned to the two policemen and said. “If you would just excuse me for one minute I’d like to talk to my daughter.” Then she stepped inside and closed the door.
For the longest time she simply stared at Poppy. “It is you isn’t it?”
“Have I been in a coma or something...? Exactly how long have I been asleep for? Because this morning I didn’t look like my slightly better looking twin sister!”
“I... I’ll get your Granddad.”
After ushering the old man in they both stared at Poppy. “What do you think?” Anne asked. “Is it you know what?”
“No it’s definitely not any magic I’ve ever seen before!”
“If it’s a curse maybe it will wear off after a while and she’ll go back to normal!”
Poppy rolled her eyes in disgust. “I am here you know... And that’s not all... I think... Although I could have been dreaming, but there’s a slight chance that I can read minds...!”
“What do you mean?” Anne asked incredulously.
“That Policeman outside my door thinks in his words ‘you’re guilty as sin’, he thinks it’s written all over you’re face and he wanted one sugar Granddad not the jarful that you put in his coffee!”
Anne turned and buried her face in Nathanial’s shoulder. “What is happening here..? If we’re under attack from the Diabolists then why didn’t they just kill us while we slept?”
“What’s a Diabolist Mum?”
Granddad answered the question with a suspicious glance about the room and a whisper. “That’s the collective term for those who would destroy us if they could!”
“That’s not really answering my question... Hang on a second let’s just see if I can do this for real!” Said Poppy and gazed into his eyes. Even she was surprised at how quickly she heard his inner voice. It was ordering her to leave his mind at once; she smiled just to let him know she had heard him.
His mind was deep and full of many varied memories, and it took time to filter through the labyrinth of information. Finally Poppy found that which she sought: The Diabolist was an ancient organisation who worshipped the king of all demons, Lucifer himself. This army of darkness consisted mainly of demons but many Witches and Warlocks had been tempted from the great path. Other creatures rejected from society millennia ago such as the Gobelinus and Vampire had flocked to the protection of his welcoming arms. There were also other creatures of the night who successfully straddled both camps, the most terrifying of which was the Werewolf.
Many humans had also sworn allegiance, and their numbers seemed to increase every year. There was just too much information to take in so Poppy snapped out of her trance. She glared at her Granddad with a look of astonishment. “Warlocks..? Witches..? And let’s not forget everyone’s favorites the good old Vampire and Werewolf! I thought you said that all the Demons and Gobelinus were wiped out at Finsbury fields?”
“Some escaped... Not many mind, but enough to cause problems from time to time.”
“Oh my god... This is a nightmare... I’m living in a nightmare. Someone please wake me up!”
Suddenly Anne Darke pulled herself together. She grabbed Poppy by the shoulders and shook her. “Get a grip of yourself and keep your voice down... For some reason you have been given this amazing gift. I’m going down stairs to speak to the policeman, while I’m down there I want you to lie back down and focus your mind on your brother. Write down anything you see, hear or feel.” She turned and walked to the door. “His mind is not like yours, it’s very young so anything you find there may be confusing to you.”
Soon the room was quiet and Poppy relaxed her head onto the soft pillow. She took several deep breaths, closed her eyes and blocked out all thoughts. Then she pictured her brother’s face and concentrated on his smile and then his tiny pink hands, she thought of his scent and the sound of his cry. Allowing her mind to lose itself in his essence, his being and his very soul she began to sense herself moving, almost floating.
She dared to open her eyes and there before her was not the ceiling of her bedroom but a stormy night sky, below her swayed angry trees endlessly buffeted by the wind. This new experience should have scared her but for some unknown reason it felt completely natural to be flying like a bird.
She recognised some of the landmarks below such a dry stone wall which ran parallel to the river and the main road into the village. There was the bus shelter at the entrance to the cemetery, she flew passed the church tower and waved at Gulp Rottenoffle who was sat atop the spire, he didn’t wave back though.
All that lay below now seemed to be an endless carpet of trees and meadows. Up ahead Poppy saw a warm glow on the horizon and instantly felt a dire need to reach that light.
Suddenly the image shattered like a smashed mirror and Poppy sat bolt upright in bed. Someone was hammering on her door and the shock made her gasp for air.
“Who is that?” She cried angrily, after all she’d only been a field away from her brother when the link was broken.
“WPC Meg Mathews, I’d just like you to come down stairs so that I can ask you some questions.”
Poppy’s stomach turned over and she felt sick, she was terrified of policemen. “J... Just coming.” She stuttered.
Chapter 20
Poppy sat uncomfortably in the old armchair, the one by the fire normally reserved for her granddad; he didn’t seem to mind as he propped up the door frame and absentmindedly cleaned out his pipe.
The log fire was blaring out heat but she still felt a chill in her bones. All of the policemen had now gone to conduct house to house enquiries, all except the WPC and what Poppy understood to be a social worker. She was sat with an open briefcase on her lap and was studying something inside. It didn’t take a mind reader for Poppy to know she was reading her case file; it was the occasional scornful look that gave it away.
The WPC smiled warmly which Poppy thought strange under the circumstance. One look inside her mind confirmed the worst; she was into pink fluffy things, romantic novels and weepy films. WPC Meg Mathews had only become a Police officer to please her dad, who was a music teacher.
“Hello Poppy.” She said and smiled again. “My name is Meg and I’m going to ask you some questions concerning the disappearance of your brother Nathanial Darke.”
Poppy nodded solemnly. “Yes!”
“When was the last time that you saw him?”
“I saw him yesterday morning when Mum got him out of the bath, but I heard him crying sometime in the afternoon.” She glanced at her mum for confirmation, which she gave with a nod.
The WPC stared at the social worker for some seconds and then back at Poppy, there had clearly been some
sort of communication between them. “Do you like your brother very much Poppy? Sometimes it’s hard to adjust when a new member of the family arrives.” She said and put on one of those sad, pitying smiles that grownups save for injured animals and funerals.
“Of course I do... I love him, he’s my brother.” She said frowning.
“But this hasn’t always been the case... Has it?”
Poppy screwed her hands nervously and tried to stop by clamping them between her knees. But it was too late the Police woman had noticed, clearly not as pink and fluffy as Poppy had at first thought. “I don’t know what you mean!”
The social worker piped up and had barely uttered a single syllable before the WPC spoke over her. “Do you know how cold it is outside..? Well it’s hovering around freezing and the
Weatherman predicts snow overnight. How long do you think a baby could last in those conditions?”
“I don’t know!” Poppy Cried. “You think that I had something to do with this...? Don’t you?”
Poppy recognised that look, her mum had used it often in the past, but this Police woman wielded it with more steel in her eyes. “You could save us all a lot of trouble and just tell us where you have taken him!”
“I haven’t... I wouldn’t mum honest...” She turned to her Granddad. “Tell them I wouldn’t Granddad!”
The WPC leaned in and firmly took hold of Poppy’s hands. “Poppy listen to me... We’ve conducted house to house enquiries and one of your neighbors saw you stood on the doorstep carrying the little one.”
She stood and pulled her hands away. “No... No that’s impossible. I didn’t do anything!”
“She saw you Poppy... in the early hours of this morning she saw you stood on the doorstep. She says she clearly saw you, no one else just you... You had on jeans and a pink top and you were carrying the baby!”
“No!” Poppy screamed.
“The game or whatever it was is over so let’s go and get him, shall we, before it’s too late.”
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