by David Wood
Only the occasional car on the road two hundred yards back from the shore, and the screeching howls of the night gulls, disturbed the calm. They had arrived here half an hour before and had barely spoken a dozen sentences to each other, both filling themselves up with the quiet.
Margaret noticed his troubled frown.
“A penny for your thoughts?” she said.
“A penny, in this day and age, what with inflation and all, it must be about a fiver.”
Forced jollity never works, he told himself, and he was right. She refused to be put off and Brian, glad of the chance to talk to someone, unburdened his worries, starting with Tom, moving on to Ian and finally to Sandy, including his story about the house.
She fell silent for long seconds before she replied.
“Come off it Brian, you can’t believe that they’re all connected. Ian’s death was an accident, and Tom and Sandy have just got caught up in some mild form of hysteria.
“There’s been a lot of occult and horror on the telly recently, and it preys on folks minds. And as for that story about the house...”
She shook her head, grinning at him.
“Surely you know that Sandy would do anything for a drink. The old man is unscrupulous when it comes tae whiskey.”
Brian was shaking his head.
“No, I don’t think it was just a story. Oh, when he first told me I was sure he was spinning me a line, but the more I think about it the more I’m sure it had a ring of truth. Somehow I would have known if it were just another story.”
Brian looked around and noticed Margaret grinning at him. He had the feeling that he was having his leg pulled again.
“Well, there’s one way to find out Brian. Why don’t we take the moor road back home and we can check out whether there’s anything in it?”
The idea of visiting that house at night didn’t really appeal to him much, but it gave him a chance to be with Margaret a bit longer so he agreed, only if his car proved capable of negotiating the one in six hills up on to the moor.
“And if it doesn’t,” he warned her, “I’ll have to show you where the holes for your feet are.”
Tom was getting weaker.
The lights in the street seemed to dim, and darkness crept in at the edges of his sight. But he felt happy and warm, snug in the arms of his wife as they continued their waltz across the pavement.
He was back in nineteen seventy-three. The band was playing something soft and smooth, the lights were dim, and they were locked together in a slow dance. It had been a great day…the long walk in the country under the bluest of skies, the late lunch in that quiet little pub and, best of all, the slow love making in their marriage bed. Then some long cold drinks before dressing up for a night on the town.
“I love you, Jessie,” he whispered. He hadn’t said that nearly often enough back then. But she had known it. Hadn’t she?
He was happy then, and he was happy now. No school kids, no headmasters, no booze, and Jessie back warm and loving in his arms.
Tom felt his eyes close and his head sank to rest on Jessie’s shoulders. His legs threatened to buckle under him, but he stayed upright…held by Jessie’s strong arms. Suddenly there was a jolt and her body stiffened, a single jerk. Tom opened his eyes fully and was amazed to see a crossbow bolt sticking from Jessie’s neck.
Only it wasn’t Jessie anymore.
Tom looked up into the blood red eyes of a huge naked man.
No, not a man.
Twin fangs dripping red hung over its lower lip and its face was set in a wild, manic grin.
Tom tried to scream, but only a feeble squeal came out…a moan of despair. He tried to struggle but his limbs were too heavy and didn’t want to respond to his commands.
Instead the creature that had hold of him screamed, a cacophony of noise that echoed around in Tom’s head and filled all the empty spaces inside him. It lifted him into the air and threw him over one shoulder as if he weighed no more than an armchair cushion.
His world spun and whirled threatening to bring on a fresh bout of vomiting. He tried to concentrate on the pavement beneath him, but even thinking seemed like too much effort. The creature let out one more long howl that caused lights to flick on in bedrooms all along the street.
It began to run, with Tom bouncing along in time.
Somewhere behind them Tom heard the sound of running footsteps, but by then the blackness was creeping in ever further. They moved faster now, the streetlights passing overhead in an almost hypnotic string of dancing lights. The pursuing footsteps faded in the distance, but the creature’s pace didn’t slow.
Soon there were no street lights overhead, only the grasping black branches of trees. But by that time the darkness had taken over fully and Tom was past caring.
Brian stopped the car at the gates of the Hansen House and turned to Margaret.
“We don’t have to do this you know. I’ve got some great coffee back at the house.”
Margaret snorted.
“Coffee is it. And what have you got planned for afters? No. If we’re going to banish your demons then we have to have a look. Besides,” she said with grin, “Don’t you think a walk in the moonlight will be more romantic?”
Brian wasn’t amused.
“The last thing this place could be called is romantic. You’ve never been here before…have you?”
Margaret shook her head as Brian continued.
“Old Sandy’s story might be a load of bollocks, but even when I was a kid we kept clear of this place…especially at night. Sometimes, but only in bright daylight, we’d come up to collect chestnuts, but they were always soft and rotten.”
Margaret was about to interrupt, but when she turned towards Brian she saw that his stare was far away, remembering.
“There were stories about a gamekeeper with a shotgun and a pack of fearsome dogs, but I never saw him. There was an old orchard, on the other side of the house from here. You used to be able to get inside, but it was all overgrown with thorn bushes.
“Back in the sixties there was a story that did the rounds about the ghost of an old woman who collected the fruit in there. My mate Doug swore he saw her late one summer’s night, but I don’t think he had the balls to come here in the dark.”
Margaret realized that he was stalling, delaying the moment when he had to get out of the car.
“Hey,” she said, waving a hand in front of his eyes. “What is this? Nostalgia night? Less of the chat and more action. Let’s get out there and see what we can see.”
“Just let me have a cigarette first?” Brian said, but Margaret stopped his hand on the way to the glove compartment.
“Nope. No smoking…I’ve got my reputation as a Sports Teacher to consider, remember? Come on,” she said, opening the passenger door. “Time to go.”
Brian finally stepped out into the dark. The night got a lot cooler and he tried to pull his jacket tighter around him as he followed Margaret to the imposing wrought iron gateway to the drive.
The whole gate looked like it had been carved from one piece of black iron...more like a medieval portcullis than anything more recent. Great sinuous serpents wound their way through and around Doric columns of iron and a great square lock controlled the center.
“What’ll we do if it’s locked?” he asked.
“Climb over it if we have to,” she said. “Nothing’s going to stop me getting to this haunted house of yours.”
“You do realize that we’ll be trespassing? What kind of damage would that do to your reputation?” Brian said, already wishing that he’d retrieved his cigarettes from the car.
Margaret turned back towards him and there was definite amusement in her eyes.
“Why the sudden concern for my reputation? Do you think that being out here at nearly midnight is the sort of thing that a nice girl like me should be doing?”
She didn’t wait for a reply, turning away from him and taking hold of one of the carved serpents. She pushed, twice, against the weight o
f the metal before it swung open with a creak that echoed through the night air.
“Come into my parlor.” Margaret cackled in her best Vincent Price impersonation, and Brian couldn’t help but laugh.
“Okay,” he said. “Let’s do it. But don’t come running to me if we actually see anything...I’ll already be long since gone.”
The trees seemed to crowd in around them as they stepped onto the gravel drive. Brian knew that they were big, old hoary chestnuts with branches grasping like skeletal arms, the wind in the leaves whispering conspiratorially to each other.
He reached out and took Margaret’s hand…more for comfort than affection, but was rewarded with a smile and a kiss. Maybe this wasn’t going to be so bad after all.
Just ten steps onto the drive he had changed his mind again. The trees crouched over them and it was so black that it was almost impossible to see more than a few yards. He turned towards Margaret.
“Look. This is silly. Even if we get to the house we’re not going to be able to see anything anyway.”
Unfortunately for Brian a cloud moved and the moon shone down through the branches of the trees, throwing everything into hues of black and silver.
“You were saying Einstein?” Margaret said with a grin, and kissed him lightly on the cheek.
“Come on. If you’re a good boy I might even take you up on that offer of a coffee.”
They didn’t talk on the way up the drive, merely held hands ever tighter and walked ever slower. Brian felt a deep chill in his bones, a chill that brought shivers through his torso that he didn’t think were wholly due to the cold.
The house sat like a great head poking through from under a vast expanse of gravel coated drive; twin bay windows like eyes surveying any invaders to its realm. Brian knew that it was built of red sandstone but now, in the moonlight, it was merely jet, like a single hewn slab of rock. He got a tingling at the base of his neck...that feeling you get in your bed at night when you’re certain that there is someone else in the room with you.
“Okay. No spooks here.” He said, and made to turn away when Margaret’s strong grip pulled at him and whirled him back round to face the house.
“Oh no you don’t. You don’t get away that easily. We’re going inside. Remember... coffee later.”
The way she said ‘coffee’ made Brian’s pulse race, but he wasn’t sure that his legs would carry him into the house...promises of intimacy or not.
“I’m not sure we can get in...I’ve never heard of anyone trying,” he said, hoping that would be enough to dissuade her. But, as he was beginning to discover, she was strong willed once she had made her mind up about something.
“What kind of kids do you breed in this town anyway?” she said with a realistic show of venom, “Surely someone’s had the balls for it? Well I’m up for it anyway.”
She refused to let go of Brian’s hand as she dragged him forcibly towards the house. Now more than ever he wished that he had brought his cigarettes with him...at least they might have calmed the tremors he felt rising inside him.
The door was made from a single piece of solid oak and looked strong enough to withstand a battering ram. It sat in a small porch round which some climbing roses were no more than a withered tracery of dead wood and rotting leaves.
The door’s top half was in shadow, but the carving on its bottom panels seemed alive in the flickering shadows...Victorian gothic fairies and centaurs mingled with elves and dryads, a plethora of Greek, Roman, Irish and Scottish figures from folklore, all dancing for the moon.
Margaret reached out and ran her free hand over the surface.
“God. How did something like this survive the kids? Look. There’s no graffiti, no damage...not even a Jim loves Agnes.”
“I told you,” Brian replied. “There’s something about the place...the kids stay away in droves. Have you seen enough yet? I need a fag.”
As if in reply she let go of his hand and began searching, fumbling in the dark shadows to the left of the door.
“Ah. Here it is,” she said, almost in a whisper. There was a loud click and the door swung inwards with a deafening creak. The hallway beyond lay in pitch dark blackness.
Tenets- The Second Book of the Dark
And it came to pass that the children of Adam multiplied greatly and began to raise great cities. And many were the people therein. And the sons of Adam hated the Eldren, for they had come first.
And the Eldren were hunted, and their heads were wrested from their bodies that they never more presume to be first in the eyes of the Lord.
And the Eldren waxed greatly in their rage and would have risen up against the sons of
Adam. But Amro who was leader called them together and said unto them: “Let us take ourselves from the sight of the Adamites lest they continue in this persecution. Let us repair to the northern lands, where we may rest from the sight of the accursed globe of fire.”
But Shoa who was hot with the fire of the thirst stood against him, and many of the Eldren stood by his side, saying: “Why should we slink and crawl like serpents? We are stronger than the Adamites, and what they have is rightfully ours. We will go amongst them and learn their ways, and we will feed.”
And there was a sundering of the tribe of the Eldren and only three score stood with Amro.
And among them were Kalent, Rohash and Droma who are known as the Chosen.
And Shoa sent Amro away from the tribe.
And it came to pass that Amro led his people north out of the sight of the Adamites, and they heard of the people of Shoa no more.
Many were the tribulations of Amro and his people on the journey north, but the Lord looked over them during the days when the fiery globe tried to seek them out and they traveled fast under the stars of night until they reached the great ice wastes of the north.
There they built many caverns and caves and they lived simple lives in the ways of the Lord.
And the Lord looked down on them and saw that they were worshipful and he sent a river of blood that they might feed without succumbing to the thirst. And Amro and his people lived long and prospered for many years.
And the Lord came to Amro in a dream, saying: “I am sending a great flood to cleanse my people. The tribe of Shoa has been living among the sons of Adam and many have been their sins. They have turned from me and been corrupted and I would rid myself of them. Take yourself and your people to the highest mountain and fear not. The Lord your God will protect you.”
Amro heeded the word of the Lord and took his people to Iorma, the mountain of the Moon.
And the Lord sent a great storm such that the waters of the sea rose to cover the land. And a great wailing passed on the face of the deep as the Lord God cleansed his creation.
And God sent Amro a vision of the cities of the Adamites, their turrets and spires falling into the churning waves. And Amro saw a great vessel floating on the tempest, and he knew that the Lord had spared a son of Adam.
And it rained for forty days and forty nights.
When the waters receded Amro sent his people back to their caverns, but he remained on the mountain.
And the Lord came to him in a pillar of fire and said: “You are the last of the Eldren. As long as you remain faithful to me I will keep you and watch you. I will give you laws. Abide by these laws and I will forgive you your sins in the first days.
“And when the day comes that I deliver my last judgment you will be risen up in glory and you will sit by my side forever.”
And the Lord sent down his message in tablets of stone and each law was written in silver fire.
“Thou shalt not drink of the blood of the Adamites.
Thou shalt not sleep with the daughters of Adam.
Thou shalt not drink of the blood of the Eldren.
Thou shalt have no other God but me.
Thou shalt not kill.
Thou shalt not make any graven images.
Thou shalt not make any others in your image.
&n
bsp; Thou shalt not covet the goats or asses of the Adamites.
Thou shalt honor thy brethren, the Eldren.
Thou shalt only feed on one day of the cycle of the moon”.
And Amro took the Tenets of the law to his people and they lived in the way of the Lord for many years.
But many of the tribe of Shoa had escaped from the wrath of the Lord by means of their sorcery. The great serpent had hidden them from the Lord’s sight and bound them to him with promises of power and blood.
And they never came to the word of God and they never read of the Tenets. There are known as the Unforgiven, and they are legion.
Chapter 4
Tony came awake slowly; aware only that he lay, fully clothed, in a too soft bed.
His eyes felt as if they had been glued together, and although he knew he had been asleep, he did not feel rested. He wanted nothing more than to put his head back to the pillow and let the dreams come and take him away for a while.
He felt hot, sweating and shivering in equal measure as he began to push bedclothes away from him. There was only a dim light illuminating the room, but even that was enough to show Tony that he was not home in bed...this room was much plusher and the furniture much more sturdy. It hadn’t all been a dream after all.
There was a full glass of water on the bedside table and he stretched out towards it, having to fight against the tremors that shook his hand.
The water tasted cool against the heat in his throat and he gulped the contents of the glass down greedily, immediately wanting more.
He lay back against the pillow and stared, not seeing, at the ceiling as the events of the night came flooding back to him. The moonlight and the creature, Ian’s death and the old man, both merged into one long dream-like memory that always ended the same way…the soft thud of the crossbow bolt as it went into the old man’s body and his own scream repeating again and again in his head.
He felt tears begin to well at the corners of his eyes and brushed hard to keep them away, smearing moisture across his eyes and blurring the world into soft edged shadows.