The Third Skull (Book Two - The Revelation): A Paranormal Mystery Thriller

by Andrew Stafford

  "It's wood. I’ve found what appears to be a large plank of wood,” said Drake shining the torch.

  He rapped on it with his knuckles and listened.

  “It’s hollow.”

  When Alexander Drake had been alive he’d been a man who’d rarely let his emotions show, but it was obvious by the tone of his voice he was tense with anticipation.

  “Be careful Alexander, the wood's probably rotten and may not take your weight.”

  “It’s fairly sturdy, I’m okay.”

  Drake continued to clear the remaining soil until the plank was completely exposed. He was unable to lift it as part of the plank disappeared beneath the wall of soil that was shored up with floorboards. With the spade he dug into the soil which covered the unexposed section of the plank. Morris paced up and down the kitchen like an expectant father waiting for the birth of a child. He peered down, but all he saw was the top of Drake’s head as he dug at the wall of soil and rock. He sighed, sat down, continued to read his copy of Middlemarch and scribbled annotations in his notebook.

  Drake ascended the ladder with the final bucket of rubble which he emptied in the garden. He looked to the sky and high above the trees he made out the familiar silhouette of the raven.

  “Hello my old friend,” he whispered as the bird soared.

  Back in the hole Drake cleared enough soil and rock to expose the edge of the plank. He put the spade to one side, dropped to his knees and attempted to lift the plank. He teetered on the solid section of soil whilst trying to lift it, but the confined space made it impossible.

  “Joseph, I’m almost through, but I can’t lift the blasted plank, have you brought something I can use as a lever?”

  Morris shuffled around in the tool bag and found a crowbar. He tossed it to Drake and heard a thud as it hit the plank.

  “Careful!” shouted Drake angrily.

  He jammed the crowbar beneath the plank and put his weight behind it. The wood groaned as it moved for the first time in two-hundred years. Drake tried again, and the plank lifted a quarter of an inch, but as soon as he pulled the crowbar out, it dropped back into position.

  He grabbed the spade and put it next to him. Again, he used the crowbar to lift the plank, and again he lifted it a quarter of an inch. He picked up the spade and slid the blade in the gap under the plank. He pushed the spade as far as it would go and when he could push it no more, he lifted the shaft of the spade and levered the wood. He lifted the plank eight inches. Using the crowbar, he propped up the plank, so it remained in position.

  He slid his hand under the plank and felt something cold and rough like the top of a grid. He picked up the torch, got down as low as possible, and shone the torch beneath the plank. Drake was just able to squeeze himself low enough to peer below.

  And then he saw it.

  The plank covered a rusting metal grille, and Drake saw below the grille was a shaft. He climbed back to his feet and wiped his forehead. He was about to call to Morris, but waited until he’d removed the plank and was able see what was there.

  Drake had two choices. He could either try to lift and remove the plank which would be difficult in the confined space, or he could use the pickaxe to smash the plank into smaller pieces. The plank was two inches thick, and would take a long time to break down.

  Drake rested against the floorboards supporting the wall and considered what to do. He wondered whether there was an easier and quicker way to shift the plank. He wasn't able to cut through it. He didn’t have enough room, and the metal grille beneath would make it impossible to use a saw. He sighed and decided to smash the plank into pieces.

  Drake spat on his hands, gripped the shaft of the pick firmly, lifted it then brought it down upon the plank. The pick sliced into the wood. The point of the pickaxe jammed into the plank. He cursed as he tried to pull it out, but it was stuck fast. He placed a foot on the plank and tugged at the pick, but it wouldn’t budge, it was stuck.

  He thought about what he should do next.

  Morris waited impatiently above and wondered what was happening.

  Drake checked whether the pickaxe could be used as a handle to lift the slab of wood. He yanked on the shaft of the pick and the plank moved.

  For a third time, he used the crowbar to raise the plank and again, rammed the blade of the spade beneath the gap. With all his strength, he levered the shaft of the pickaxe towards him and the huge and hefty plank shifted. His movements were limited by the lack of space around him.

  The raven which had been circling the house for the past hour, swooped and landed in the garden. It hopped into the kitchen, stopped at the hole, cocked its head to one side and watched Drake struggling below. Suddenly, as if it had been agitated by something, it flapped and cawed. Morris watched it jump down the hole and land on Drake’s shoulder. Drake was briefly taken aback as he felt the talons of the bird dig into his skin, like small hooks gripping his shoulder. He made out the form of the large bird in the darkness of the hole. The raven tightened its grip on Drake’s shoulder who winced as the claws dug in.

  Suddenly Drake became energised as if he had the strength of half a dozen men. The raven flapped its wings and dug its talons even further into Drakes skin, jabbing into the bone of his clavicle.

  He pulled with all his strength and lifted the plank from where it had remained untouched since 1804. He raised it vertically and propped the plank against the wall with the pickaxe still in place. Drake saw the metal grille by his feet.

  He exhaled and his body ached. The raven released its grip and flew up and out of the hole. Drake had to remove the plank and the tools before he continued his search for the bodies.

  Morris watched in awe as the raven flew from the hole and landed in the kitchen, followed by Drake climbing the ladder dragging the spade behind him.

  “Take this,” demanded Drake, hauling the spade from the hole.

  Drake descended and ascended three more times until he’d taken away the plank and tools, giving him enough room to continue.

  Back in the darkness of the hole he shone the torch between the gaps in the metal grille. The torch didn’t cast enough light for him to see what was below. Drake sighed and considered what he should do next.

  “Joseph, I need a length of string.”

  Morris scurried around the shell of the kitchen, opening and closing drawers and cupboards until he found a bundle of green twine, which he tossed to Drake.

  Drake wrapped the twine around the end of the torch and tied a knot. He heaved at the grille until he was able slide the torch beneath it and into the cavern. Slowly, he lowered the torch, and the light created mysterious shadows. The lower the torch went, the more he was able to make out.

  And then he saw something. He pulled the torch back a few inches and waited for it to stop swinging. He squinted his eyes and could make out a yellowish white object. The torch wasn’t as bright as he would have liked it to be. He pressed his face against the grille and strained to see what was below. He became accustomed to the darkness and as he did he made out other similar coloured objects. His heart pounded in his chest as he continued to make out what was down there.

  They’re bones, they’re definitely bones, and they’re small, he thought as the enormity of what he was looking at hit him. They’re infants’ bones.

  Morris perched at the edge of the hole as Drake climbed the ladder.

  “We’ll, don’t keep me waiting any longer,” said Morris as Drake stepped from the ladder and rubbed dirt from his sleeves.

  A menacing smile spanned Drake’s face.

  “Joseph, I think I’ve found William and Louisa.”

  Chapter 66

  “That man's pure evil,” said Heather.

  “Which one, Butler or Morris?” asked her sister.

  “Both, I mean, they’re the same person,” replied Heather as she nervously sat on the bed.

  Sophie didn’t understand.

  “I can only tell you what I saw, and there wasn't a short ugly ma
n with tattoos,” said Sophie.

  “And I didn’t see the person you did. Don’t you understand? This is part of Drake’s plan, or maybe it’s Joseph Morris who’s behind this.”

  Sophie said nothing and recalled how the old man had broken Hugh’s arm and smashed Mark through the stairs in less than a heartbeat. It was as if he had supernatural powers.

  “Okay Heather, what do we do now?”

  Heather didn’t answer. A tremendous feeling of fear overcame her.

  Rosie ran into the bedroom and was distraught.

  “Mummy, mummy, William and Louisa are in trouble, they’re scared, you need to help them.”

  “Okay Rosie, take a breath and tell me again.”

  “I was playing in my room and William came in, and he said his daddy took him and Louisa away,” sobbed Rosie.

  Heather turned to her sister. They knew what one another were thinking, but Heather spoke first.

  “Drake and Morris. They’ve found the children.”

  Chapter 67

  Drake removed the heavy metal grille, hauled it up the ladder and dropped it next to Morris.

  “I’m going back.”

  “And remember, we only need their skulls,” said Morris.

  Drake descended and teetered at the edge. Morris lowered another ladder for Drake to use to climb into the well.

  Drake placed the three metre ladder into the well which was deeper than the ladder by three inches, so Drake was unable see where the top of the ladder was without peering over the edge. With the torch in his mouth, he got on his knees, carefully edged backwards, extended one leg into the well and searched for the top of the ladder with the tip of his toe. He let out a breath when his foot engaged with the top rung.

  In life, Alexander Drake hated heights, and he was no different now.

  Slowly, he descended. Drake found it easier once his hands held the rails and soon he stood on the rocky floor of the dried up well.

  He looked up and saw Morris peering from above. Morris seemed an awfully long way up.

  Drake shone the torch around the well and the dim light picked out two small skeletons tied to a length of rope. He leant forward, picked up one of the skulls, turned it over and looked at the back of the cranium. Even in the faint and shadowy light he made out the pattern on the skull. He ran his fingers over the strange outline which had been with the child since birth.

  Drake trembled with excitement. He’d been waiting for this day since 1804, and now he had the skull in his hand he wasn’t sure how to deal with his emotions.

  He placed it at the bottom of the ladder and shone the torch at the other skull, and as he did he saw something that took him by surprise.

  The skeleton fingers of the tiny hand gripped something. He took a step closer and bent forward. The hand clutched a child’s toy. He reached and pulled it from the bones. It was a pink bear.

  “What the fu……”

  Drake read the writing on the label.

  ‘To Rosie, my favourite granddaughter.'

  The tiny part of Finn Maynard that remained came charging to the forefront. He held the bear in his hand and trembled.

  Rosie gave Amy, her favourite bear, to William for him to pass on to Louisa. Drake had pulled the toy from the remains of the little girl’s hand and the instant he took it, Finn was almost back to his old self. Memories of his daughter evoked by the bear were too powerful, even for the overwhelming command of Alexander Drake to contend with.

  He stood in darkness and thought of his wife, daughter and son.

  Oh my God, what have I done?

  He shuddered and looked at the tiny bodies by his feet.

  His thoughts were jumbled, but he recalled Sophie telling him that Rosie gave Amy bear to Louisa, the sister of the ghost who’d appeared in their kitchen. He also remembered Gabriel Butler offering him a ridiculous sum of money to dig beneath his kitchen and find two bodies.

  He gripped the bear to his chest. He was desperate to be with his family.

  Butler looked down from above.

  “Alexander, what’s keeping you my old friend?”

  Finn stood motionless and assessed the situation. He knew the name Alexander, but couldn’t place its significance.

  Joseph Morris became impatient.

  “Drake, answer me, what’s the holdup?”

  Drake…. Alexander….. shit, Alexander Drake, he thinks I’m Alexander Drake, thought Finn.

  He wasn’t sure who Alexander Drake was, but enough dim memories fogged his mind to associate the name with ‘Gabriel Butler’ for Finn to know it was important. He winced at the pain in his hands after digging the shaft which towered above him. Whatever had been happening needed to stop. The vital connection made by the bear to Rosie was enough to give him the strength of mind he required to overcome what was happening to him.

  “I’m on my way up,” called Finn.

  Morris detected something different in Drake’s tone. He assumed it was tiredness and thought nothing else of it.

  Finn shoved the bear in his pocket and climbed the ladder. Having it close allowed him to focus on his family and his love for them.

  He ascended the well and stood at the bottom of the hole. Butler’s head loomed from above.

  “Where are the skulls?" called Butler.

  “I’ll go back for them in a minute, I need to come up for air,” replied Finn.

  “We don’t have time, go back and bring me the skulls.”

  “I will, just let me get a breath of fresh air, a glass of water and I’ll go back.”

  Morris sighed.

  Finn climbed from the hole and up to the kitchen. He was taken aback by the surrounding devastation.

  Did I do that?

  He grabbed a glass, ran the tap and wondered what to do next. He needed to get out at once.

  Morris watched his old friend drink the water from a pint glass. Something about him wasn't right. Why hadn’t Drake brought the skulls up with him? It didn’t make sense.

  Suddenly, in a lame try at creating a diversion, Finn threw the glass of water in Butler’s face and darted for the front door, but before he even made it to the hall, Butler blocked his exit from the house. Finn turned and ran to the back door, but before he’d a chance to barely move Butler stood in the doorway between the kitchen and the garden. He turned again back to the hall, but Butler stood facing him, nose to nose.

  Finn was stunned by Butler’s speed, as if he was in two places at the same time.

  Butler couldn’t work out what had happened to Drake, but he knew it was Maynard facing him and not Alexander.

  “Going somewhere?” asked Butler in a patronising tone.

  “Yeah, out of here,” replied Finn.

  Butler didn't want to exhort too much force upon Maynard, he mustn’t risk harming him. He needed him to return to the state of Alexander Drake and get back to the well to get the skulls.

  “Finn, what are you thinking of, don’t forget the money, you’ll be a rich man, just go back down and get those skulls.”

  “You can take your cash and shove it.”

  “But why the sudden change of heart?” asked Butler in an imploring tone.

  “Because of this,” replied Finn holding the bear to Butler’s face.

  Butler shook his head. He couldn’t understand the connection.

  “It’s my daughter’s, and I found it in the clutches of the dead child. I must get it back to her. I need to be with my family.”

  Butler didn't understand how it got there, but knew it had been the catalyst which sparked Finn Maynard’s sudden return.

  “Let me see it,” asked Butler in a gentle tone of voice.

  “Oh, no you don’t,” replied Finn.

  The next thing Finn saw was the bear in Butler’s hands. With unbelievable lightning speed he had grabbed it from Finn’s clutches and held it above his head.

  Finn wobbled and felt lightheaded. He was about to fall to the floor, but Butler caught him before he hit the ground.<
br />
  Butler held Finn’s limp frame tightly in his grip. He placed the palm of his hand against Finn’s forehead and chanted.

  “Hic en spiritum, sed non incorpore, evokare lemures de mortuis, decretum espugnare, De Angelus Balberith, en inferno inremeablis.”

  Butler trembled as he quickly recited the next four repetitious lines.

  “Wa ta na siam, wa ta na siam, wa ta na siam. wa ta na siam”

  Drake opened his eyes and looked at Joseph Morris whose brow was wet with perspiration.

  “What happened?” asked Drake.

  “Nothing to worry about, I’d lost you for a second, but now you’re back. Please continue with your work.”

  Morris smiled as Drake unsteadily walked back to the kitchen and disappeared back down the hole to retrieve the skulls.

  Chapter 68

  “What the hell are we supposed to do?” said Sophie.

  Heather had no idea. She’d received no guidance from Nash, Elizabeth or Alice in a long time. It was as if they’d upped and gone away before they had explained what on earth was happening.

  “If only I could speak with Elizabeth, she would know what to do,” replied Heather.

  “Speak to her then, get her to help us.”

  “How many more times?” snapped Heather angrily. “I can’t, I’ve lost the ability. I should never have let Charlie go. I’m sure it was because of him I could contact them all so easily.”

  She looked at her sister and tears welled in her eyes.

  “Elizabeth said she used a silver cross around her neck. That was her channel, it was her means to make contacting the dead easier.”

  Sophie stood in silence and cast her mind back.

  “Do you remember the cross? Could you describe it?” asked Sophie.

  Although Heather hadn’t seen the cross since the last time she was with her great grandmother in hospital, she could recall it hanging around Elizabeth’s neck as she lay on her deathbed.

  “It was small, no bigger than the top of my middle finger, and it had a tiny figurine of Christ,” replied Heather.