As he stood up, his intestines fell out. Horrified witnesses said his last expression was one of bemused disbelief. At least he died with a smile on his face.
Then there was the case of the man at an air show, who stood up from the crowd, walked over to one of the planes, calmly approaching the live propeller, which cut him to pieces in a matter of seconds.
The screams of the people could be heard for miles around.
Then there was the case of the woman who had been found buried underground, but her screams had saved her. A local rambler’s association found the ground looked to have been disturbed, and proceeded to dig the girl out of there. She was airlifted to the nearest hospital, the story making the lunchtime news.
‘Girl buried alive, but found just in time,’ said one headline. This was later replaced by ‘Tragedy of shallow grave girl, dies hours after being rescued from live burial.’
A tragedy is when something happens without warning, without explanation. But this was not a tragedy, for Seth had seen it in his dreams. Nightmares. Hallucinations. Visions. With each event becoming more violent and disturbing, if he were asked, he could not be sure to say what was the truth.
In fact, everyone who had died in the last year, had appeared in his dreams. The skeletons in his cupboard were getting so numerous, they would soon be needing their own post code.
He didn’t want to worry Roz, who was his sole reason for living right now. She completed him. Yes, a bit twee and sickly-sweet, but it was true. He loved her and she loved him. She only ever wanted to see him smile.
“I know when this started Seth. It was about twelve months back.”
Seth breathed heavily. He did not want to start the day with a row, but Roz being Roz, could be relied upon not to let it go. How he wished he could explain to her that she really did need to listen to him sometimes.
“Seth, sometimes horrible things happen in the world. Try not to let it weigh you down, will you?”
Rosalyn hugged Seth tightly before kissing him on the lips.
“We have the most amazing life to look forward to together. You, with your promotion to associate editor, and I might just make partner in the firm before the end of the year.”
Seth smiled. Rosalyn, the eternal optimist, was talking about the end of the year. He would be just happy to make it through to the end of the week.
Seth’s promotion to associate editor may have been on merit, but the Donaldson brothers, who had been with the firm since they were boys out of school, calmly sat across each other in a Starbuck’s one day, wearing crisp white shirts and a red tie. They were twins, and those twins held aloft a bread knife, and plunged it into each other’s throats.
The firm was shocked, but printed the story nonetheless. Seth, who had not been in Starbuck’s that day, had seen the events unfold six days prior to it actually happening.
As the date of the actual wedding day had been finalised just over a year before, the dreams – or nightmares; to be more accurate, began to invade Seth’s sleep once more. It had been almost thirteen months to the day that he had finally proposed to Rosalyn, and this beautiful, intelligent, gorgeous and sexy girl had said yes.
He had sincerely hoped she would have said no, that it was too soon. He did not want to believe that he could be truly happy in this life. But things had been going so well, Seth thought why not, and took the plunge.
They had met in college, and since leaving school, there hadn’t been anyone he had been interested in, for there had been no-one like Daisy. Poor Daisy. He had condemned her to death. He didn’t actually kill her, but he may have well have done.
All this time and he had never told a soul.
That changed a month after the proposal. His father, a man who had been fit and healthy all of his life, even representing Team GB at the Los Angeles Olympics of 1984, suddenly and inexplicably fell ill. From his hospital bed, he told Seth what had happened.
“It was a beautiful Spring day, Seth. Then I heard a flapping of wings above me. I ignored it and ran on. But the sound of the beating wings became louder. I thought it was an eagle chasing me. I looked up, and its beak was upon me before I could do anything.”
Seth looked at the puncture wound on his father’s neck. Whatever the doctors were using to treat it, had no effect. The wound continued to seep blood. They would pump more into his father, but it would leave his body, and they could not come up with a logical explanation as to why.
“At first, I thought it was one of those blackbirds. But this was too big, Seth. Then, I thought it was a raven -”
At which point Seth spat out the water he was drinking.
“Damn. Sorry Dad. I’m so sorry. I’ll clean up the mess.”
“No son, leave it. Anyway, it was a crow. A damned crow. I hit out at it with my hands, and I thought I had hurt the little bastard. Its wing was bent at a wrong angle, and I was about to kick it hard when, when….”
“It’s alright, Dad. Save your strength.”
“It’s okay, son. Help me sit up, will you?”
Seth pressed a button behind the headrest, and the bed slowly began to rise.
“Seth, do you remember our trip to America when we were younger? Louisana?”
“Of course I do, Dad.”
“Do you remember what they said about the Heron? That if that bird wanted to kill you, it would bury its long beak into your brain via your eyeball?”
“Vividly, Dad. I never forgot that.”
“Well, vicious blighters, those birds are. But if you were to ask me which one was more dangerous – a crow or a heron, I would have gone for the heron, no question about it.”
Mr McAndrew Senior then went quiet for a while. A nurse popped her head around the curtain to say that visiting times were over, and that you can visit your father tomorrow.
Seth thought no more about crows or herons, before laying down to sleep with Rosalyn, who nudged him playfully in bed. She bit at his ears, and moved her hands up and down his body. Seth was almost snoring when Rosalyn nuzzled her chin at his chest, biting him gently.
Seth could feel the sensation, but it was not a pleasant one, as an image of a bird feeding on his throat and chest engulfed his view. As his father had told him earlier, he swatted hard at the beast, and he heard a crack, followed by a satisfying wailing.
Take that, you hateful bastard, thought Seth.
The wailing continued. Seth began to stir from his slumber to find blood on the bedclothes and a clattering sound in the bedroom.
“You bastard!” screamed Rosalyn, who was cradling a broken arm and was spilling blood from her mouth. “You hit me?! You bleeding idiot! What’s wrong with you?!”
Seth was trying to take the image in front of him and decide if it was real. “Roz? Oh my God, Roz! I am so sorry!”
He stumbled out of the bed towards Rosalyn, but she was having none of it. “Stay back! Stay back, I’m warning you!”
“Roz-”
“Just phone the ambulance and get the hell out of here!”
Seth was reminded of that song, the one that starts with There’s not a hope, while you’re in this kind of mood.
Rosalyn was a tough girl, so he had no doubt that she would be just fine once the hospital had fixed her up. But he hoped she would not mention the incident to the police. She wouldn’t do that, surely?
He closed the front door, looked up to the window, half expecting to see Rosalyn glaring at him with her split lip and pushing her broken arm to such a weird angle so as to make him sick to his stomach.
No, it wasn’t her face that was looking at him. Something else was.
It was the shape of a woman, and he could make out her strawberry blonde hair. A bit like Roz, but a lot like Daisy. Her large eyes and small mouth made her look very pretty indeed. Save for two things, she would have looked normal. Pale skin, and fangs protruding from her mouth.
Jesus H. Christ.
Forgetting the phone call for the moment, he tried to enter back into the hou
se. Either his key wasn’t working, or Rosalyn had come down the stairs after he left, and bolted the door.
“Roz! Roz! Open the door!”
Seth banged it down with his hands, before kicking at the door.
“Roz! Open the bloody door!”
There was a smashing of glass as the body crashed through the upstairs window, and splattered onto the pavement outside. Rosalyn’s Ford Ka had been a vision in gleaming white, but was now splattered with blood, and human body parts.
Seth ran to the girl’s broken body, knowing full well that the thing in the window had killed his beautiful bride-to-be.
“Oh…Oh, no. Roz. Roz. How can I live without you?”
His words petered out into a barely audible scream.
She lay lifeless on the pavement, her face all but smashed. Seth rolled her onto her front to see. He had to see.
Yes, it was the same hair, but it was a different face.
“How can you live your life? Oh that’s easy,” replied the mangled face, through bloodied lips and broken teeth. “You thought you survived The Blood and the Raven? You fool, you only postponed your death! You’ve only got a few months to live.”
Tick Tock
The sound was getting louder. At first it was similar to a buzzing sound, the kind a swarm of bees would generate. Then, the sound of a bus beep-beeping a cyclist to get out of its way; a group of lads shouting obscenities at someone. Then, the strange feeling of being moved by someone or something.
His body felt like the bones had been removed from it. He did not feel connected with the world. He wanted to stand on his feet, use his phone, and call for help.
Rosalyn was beyond help. Where was she now? Where had they taken her body?
“Easy, man, you fell. Take it easy - you might have a concussion. We’re taking you to the hospital. Take small, slow breaths. Try to relax.”
Relax? My girlfriend has been thrown out of window by some bitch from Hell, and you tell me to relax?
Seth could do anything but relax.
“His BP is off the scale,” said one of the ambulance men. “One-ninety over ninety-four. Diazepam?”
“No, not yet, see if it will calm down.”
Not bloody likely, thought Seth. But at least I have a pulse, unlike poor Roz.
Seth’s heart was belting out of his chest. He was half-conscious, and he observed the ceiling of the ambulance that taunted him with images of Rosalyn being alive; brushing her hair, bringing him tea, and how she looked when she slept at night.
These images of home, that comforted him of the life they were to live together, were brutally replaced by the image of that…whatever it was in the window, followed by Roz’s bloodied and broken body laying smashed on the ground. Blood and other bodily liquids was seeping out of her making what soldiers on the front line termed as people soup.
But it wasn’t her, was it? It had just been yet another pre-wedding fight. He wasn’t looking forward to the many post-wedding fights either. How had a dream managed to become a nightmare? That bird, that crow, was so real looking.
The image on the ceiling of the ambulance taunted him one more time. Rosalyn’s arm flapped around like the crow’s broken wing.
Bump bump bump.
Seth was on the move again, but he was barely conscious of what was really happening. Trying to expel those images from his head, he could make out a flurry of noise.
Relass, mate, we’re almoss thheerre.
Seth couldn’t quite understand what the man was saying, but it sounded reassuring enough.
Relax, relax, relax.
Every time he heard relax, Seth wanted to punch this guy.
He remained consciousness en route to the hospital. When he arrived at triage, the doctors processed him quickly, and after a few basic tests, were ready to let him go.
Things took an ominous turn when Seth saw two police officers approaching his direction. Looking through a slit in the curtain that surrounded his bed, Seth hoped they would pass him by, but they slowed up right in front of him.
The doctor attempted to intercede for Seth.
“Officers, this man has suffered an extreme palpitation. Please, whatever it is, it can wait.”
“I’m afraid it can’t wait, Doctor,” said one of them; a female with a tidy hairdo.
“Hawk, can you placate the good doctor with our news whilst I see the patient? It will be just a few questions, Doctor.”
“Okay, Officer, but remember – I’m the boss here. If you upset the patient, you will have to leave and come back another time.”
The female officer nodded, and swished back the curtain, only for her to see Seth sitting on the bed.
“Seth McAndrew?”
“Yes,” he replied, but it was barely a whisper, so he attempted some redress. “Yes.”
“You’re Seth McAndrew Junior. I’ve just been chatting with your father. He has some interesting views about birds. Bats. Vampires.”
That nearly made Seth’s eyes pop out of his head.
“The first two, I’ll give you. The third…well! That’s for the movies.”
“Now you don’t really believe that, do you? Come on.”
“I didn’t think the police believed in vampires either,” replied Seth.
The officer took her hat off, and set it down on the bed.
“Well, I do,” she said. “You might have heard of me, or at the very least, my daughter’s name. It’s one and the same. My name is Nina O’Hara.”
Seth rocked back and forth on the bed for a few moments. “Oh yeah! The little girl who went missing.” He paused, wanting to add some more words, then thought better of it, just like times when he would be discussing things with Rosalyn.
He feared this would be another time he would come off second best.
“Many years ago, my daughter was taken from her school, and I never saw her alive again. She was taken by two boys, who were aged ten or eleven at the time, and she was brought to a cemetery that you have known to visit, but against her will. We know it was her, because we found strands of her hair and elements of her blood. DNA tests confirmed it was my daughter.”
“What’s that got to do with me?” asked Seth, who immediately regretted what he asked.
“I’m hoping…..nothing,” said O’Hara, “But you were also seen digging up a grave close to a plot where I lay my daughter to rest. The plot is empty, but after so many years have elapsed, we officially label a missing person as deceased. It was also the only way I could get some closure on this. I do not want to mix personal feelings with professional ones.”
Knowing that someone, probably that Ricky, ratted him out, Seth acknowledged he had dug up a grave.
“But I tell you, that gravestone is on its own, there isn’t a set of newer graves right by it. You have to believe me.”
“I want to know why you were digging that grave up.”
“Now that, you won’t believe,” said Seth.
“Maybe I will.”
Seth started to breathe heavily again. He hoped he wouldn’t need the doctor to help avoid another severe palpitation.
“Is this off the record? You’re not arresting me for anything, are you?”
“If you want it off the record, fair enough. But if you withhold anything that could lead me to my daughter, alive or dead, I’ll make sure you go down the steps.”
“I really don’t know about your daughter. I never met her, never had any connections with her of any kind. On my life, I swear it.”
“Go on,” said O’Hara.
“I was twelve years old when I was approached by this girl at school. One day, she involved me in an innocent game of dares, at least, I thought it was innocent. There was an air-raid shelter behind our school. You know Hill-Top?”
O’Hara nodded. “Of course I do. I’m a Saint John Wall survivor like yourself.”
“Well, she led a group of kids from another school there. They were rivals to us, you see. I had been in a few fights with some o
f them. Anyway, whilst we were walking there, she gave me a sheet of paper. It had a story written on it. I was to tell the group this story, but only after one or two of them had told a story as well.”
“But it wasn’t just a story, was it?”
“No. It was a prelude to a terrible act. It was a ruse to get a group together. I had no idea, until it was too late. And….”
Dream the Crow's Black Dream - A Tale of Vampires Book Four Page 5