Bane of Brimstone (The Bill Blackthorne Chronicles Book 1)

by Mike Mannion

Ophelia frowned. “You may as well go ahead and tell me because I think you’re very strange already.”

  “I can’t remember a thing.”

  “What?”

  “I can’t remember anything. Not anything at all, past a few months. My childhood, my dad, last Christmas, everything! It’s all a great big blank.”

  Ophelia gave him an incredulous look.

  “I woke up six months ago in a four-poster bed at Brimstone Manor with a very strange woman called Beryl standing over me. She said it was my eighteenth birthday and that she was my mother.”

  “Honestly?”

  “But I don’t believe she really is my mother. I don’t even think it was my birthday. I don’t know who I am or where I came from. All I know is that the Apostles are very keen on bringing my memory back. They say I know something very important, apparently, to do with fighting evil.”

  “He’s been in Professor Nox’s rooms,” added Arthur, “getting his brain fried with drugs to try to make him remember.”

  Ophelia looked at Bill’s miserable face then stepped forward and gave him a hug. “Poor you.”

  “You don’t think I’m some sort of freak?”

  “Hey,” said Ophelia, “I’m the freak around here.”

  “Despite what that note says,” said Arthur, “I think we should go and rescue the Prof, or at least try.”

  “Agreed,” said Ophelia.

  “We we’re going to the Manor anyway, remember?” said Bill. “We’ve got to get that journal of William Whitebeam’s. If we could only find a way to decipher it, find a cure... then you’ll be okay.”

  “And Lilith,” said Ophelia hopefully.

  “And the Prof,” said Arthur. “But how are we going to get to Brimstone at this hour?”

  Ophelia had an idea. She searched through the drawers of the desk and pulled out a set of keys, holding them up with a look of triumph. “I’ve passed my driving test.”

  They left college and went over to the car park at the side of the building. It was quiet and dark, but there was a spotlight on the wall, illuminating the cars.

  “Over there,” said Ophelia, pointing at an orange camper van.

  They made their way over, checking to make sure no one was watching. Ophelia opened the side door and put the black bag inside, and Bill climbed in. Then she got in the driver’s seat and Arthur got in the passenger seat. ophelia started the engine and put it in gear. It lurched forward then juddered to a halt.

  “I haven’t done this since my test,” she said.

  “Lights,” said Arthur.

  Ophelia turned on the headlights and the van moved off with gears grinding. They narrowly missed a parked car, but soon they were out of the college grounds and onto the streets of Middenmere.

  “Does anybody know the way?” said Ophelia.

  Arthur gave directions. They left the city and were soon speeding along a dark country lane. The surrounding farmland was nothing but a black void – they could see only the small stretch of road ahead. Soon they were in Underwood and driving past rows of low dark cottages with glowing windows. They were about to drive into the village square but Bill stopped them.

  “Pull over! Quick!” he hissed, frantically tapping Ophelia on the shoulder. “Turn off the lights!”

  She slammed on the brakes and switched off the engine and lights. Peering into the dark square they could see a group of leather-clad figures on motorcycles near the maypole. There was also a sleek black horse with a man and woman on its back. The large fearsome dog that had attacked them sat nearby. Bill could see shimmering light around the bikers’ heads, the dog, and around the horse and its riders.

  “Do you see it?” he whispered to Ophelia.

  “Lights! What does it mean?”

  Bill gulped. “I’m sorry. You can see it now. Don’t look at yourself... in the mirror.”

  When Ophelia understood what he meant she gave Bill a look of tearful horror.

  “I can’t see anything,” said Arthur.

  “We can. It means they’re cursed by Arddhu Og. But I thought it was only Percy.”

  “That’s him on the horse,” said Ophelia in a distracted voice.

  “And that big hairy brute – that’s the dog that attacked us.”

  “Who’s that girl he’s with?” said Ophelia in an agitated voice. “What’s he doing with her?”

  “I hope they’re not in the village to cause trouble,” said Arthur.

  Ophelia got very flustered. “That girl! I hate that girl!”

  “What’s wrong? What are you doing?” said Bill.

  “I’m going to drag her off that horse... he should be with me!”

  “What?”

  Ophelia gave Bill a helpless look. “You’ve got to help me! I love Percy!”

  “What!?”

  “It’s a love spell. I thought it’d gone but I so want to go to him. I really want to go to him, right now!”

  “Got to fight this,” she said, but began to open the door and get out.

  “Oh no you don’t,” said Arthur, pulling her back and slamming the door.

  A loud metallic clang echoed around the square.

  Lord Percy looked directly at the van and waved a casual hand. Two of the bikers revved up their motorbikes and began to make their way over.

  “Sorry!” said Arthur.

  “Run for it!” said Bill.

  They scrambled out of the van but the two bikers were already there, blocking their escape. Bill and Ophelia looked at their ferocious yellow eyes, pale red veined faces, curled horns and pointed yellow teeth.

  “They look like monsters!” she said backing away. She wanted to escape into Percy’s strong arms and it took all her willpower not to.

  “What are you talking about?” said Arthur with chuckle. “It’s only Jimmy and Davy.” He moved towards them with a grin.

  Bill grabbed him and said, “What the hell are you doing?”

  “It’s cool man. It’s Jimmy and Davy, my big daft brothers.”

  Bill looked again, seeing past monstrous eyes and skin – and recognised them.

  “Hello our Arthur,” said Jimmy. “Come to join our gang?”

  “Why are you two acting so weird?” said Arthur. “Is this a joke?”

  Davy did a wide-mouthed grin, revealing yellow teeth. “Can’t you see us little brother?”

  “What’s this daft talk?”

  “Take a look again and really see us.”

  Arthur couldn’t see anything unusual but something happened inside him that made him turn a ghostly white. He ran away, shouting over his shoulder, “Wait until I tell mum you’re both Arddhu. You’re in big trouble.”

  As the bikers were momentarily distracted, chuckling at their little brother’s antics, Bill and Ophelia rushed forward, trying to get past the bikers. Jimmy muttered a curse and tried to bite Ophelia on her arm, but she was too quick. They ran away after Arthur, up a cobbled side street and stopped, panting for breath, outside a dark ivy-clad house. Arthur was there, furiously banging on the door. Through the darkness, back down on the square, they could hear the low thrumming of motorcycle engines as Jimmy and Davy appeared, approaching slowly, grinning at their mischief. Then they revved up their bikes and sped forward.

  A moment before the bikers were upon them, the door opened and Arthur’s mum appeared, looking bleary eyed in her dressing gown and curlers.

  “Hello Arthur love, nice to see you. But didn’t I tell you off about come home at silly hours?”

  “Just let us in mum,” said Arthur, bugling Bill and Ophelia inside.

  He rushed inside after them and closed the door on Jimmy and Davy.

  Bill had never seen his friend look so upset. Arthur kept looking at his mother, about to say something, but couldn’t.

  “Mum...” he said at last, “Jimmy and Davy.”

  There was a loud knock at the door.

  “Little pigs, little pigs, let us in,” said Jimmy from outside.

  Daisy went to op
en the door but Arthur stopped her.

  “It’s only us brothers,” said Davy. “Let us in, we want you to join us.”

  “What time do you call this?” said Daisy. “You can’t be out all hours with that gang.”

  “Don’t,” said Arthur. “They’ve cursed!”

  “What?”

  “In the Cult of Arddhu Og!”

  “You boys,” said Daisy, looking at Arthur like he’d lost his marbles. “Everyone knows there ain’t no dark pagans any more. I think they were just old wives’ tales anyways.”

  She went to open the door but Bill jumped in front of her. “I’m sorry but it’s true Mrs. Small.”

  “There’s a whole gang out there,” blurted Ophelia. “Led by an Arddhu lord who’s got an Arddhu horse and an Arddhu dog.” Ophelia’s face was flushed. She was still battling the strange, all-consuming love for Lord Percy. All she could think about was her jealously – that other girl with him on the horse.

  Daisy laughed. “This story gets better by the minute. Arddhu dog indeed! Enough now of having me on and get this door open.”

  Arthur’s dad, Jim, came down the stairs. He was wearing a thick tartan dressing gown and matching slippers. “What’s all the commotion?” he said, then saw Arthur and added. “And what time do you call this?”

  “Jim,” said Daisy, “they’re feeding me some a cock and bull story about the boys being mad pagans.”

  Before anyone could stop her, she stepped past Bill, opened the door and stepped outside. “Hey lads, you want me to rustle up something nice for supper?”

  There were two motorbikes but no sign of Jimmy or Davy.

  She looked around for a moment then said, “Now where did those two rascals get to?” Then she heard rustling above her head, looked up and began shaking her fist. “You boys get down from there before you break your necks. Hey Jim, come quick! They’re climbing up the drain pipe.”

  Everyone went outside and looked up. Jimmy and Davy were high up the front of the house, using the drainpipe and thick ivy to effortlessly climb. They got to an open window and went inside.

  Daisy was furious. She was about to march inside to tell them off when Arthur and Bill grabbed her arms.

  “Get off me!” she said.

  “You can’t go in mum,” said Arthur.

  “Get off your mother,” said Jim sternly.

  “They’ll bite and curse you,” said Ophelia, “You’ll become like them, a slave to Og.”

  Ophelia shivered as she recalled Lilith sinking sharp teeth into her, the dizzy other worldly feelings and strange desires that consume her. She was beginning to feel it again and desperately want to clear her head, to get back to normality. She knew that the only way to temper her feelings was with her stock of Vita Dantis – but then she realised with horror that she’d left it in the back of the van. How stupid to forget it! She desperately hoped its effects were not about to wear off.

  Ophelia looked down the street toward the van parked up at the side of the square and saw two other bikers, each at a different house. There was the shattering of glass as one kicked in a front window and stepped inside. She felt an urge to go down into the square and join Lord Percy, but managed to suppress it.

  “Hey, you young ruffian!” said Jim shaking his fist at the biker still in the street.

  A moment later the other biker came out of a house with a screaming Mrs. Scunthorpe – a matronly lady who lived a few doors away – held by the throat. He bit her.

  “What’s he doing to Ethel?” said Daisy.

  A young boy ran up the street. He was being chased by the huge dog. There was a growling noise as the dog caught the boy with his jaws and felled him to the floor.

  “Call the police!” said Jim.

  Suddenly, a high-pitched scream rang out from inside the house – the scream of a young girl.

  “Rosie!” exclaimed Arthur. A wave of panic welled up inside him as he thought of his baby sister, sleeping upstairs. He let go of his mother and ran into the house. The others followed as he raced upstairs, hardly daring to believe that his two very amiable brothers would ever hurt his baby sister.

  There was another scream from inside Rosie’s bedroom. Arthur got to the landing and stopped when her bedroom door was flung opened. Davy and Jimmy came out and, standing between them, holding hands with each of her brothers, was Rosie. She was in her night dress and had a very strange expression on her face, vacant with fluttering eyelids.

  Davy and Jimmy moved forward, taking Rosie with them.

  “Get out of the way Arthur,” said Jimmy who shoved him hard in the shoulder.

  They went down the stairs, knocking Bill and Ophelia roughly aside.

  Daisy gazed at her two sons in horror. She knew it was them but she hardly recognised their faces. Their kindly, easy going expressions had vanished, replaced by a look of hunted aggression. And their teeth, what had happened to their teeth – all dark and yellow!

  “Where are you taking Rosie?” she screeched.

  Jimmy shoulder barged his mother so hard she was knocked off her feet. As he looked back at her, lying on the stairs, his mind became a turmoil of emotion. What was he doing to his family? He desperately wanted to stop, to go and help his mother up, but there was a strong voice in his mind, immutable and absolute. It was the whispered voice of Arddhu Og, who’d commanded them to bring youth, and that’s exactly what he and Davy were doing. Bringing their baby sister to Og’s gang leader...

  Jim was at the bottom of the stairs. He was normally a placid man but now looked fired up and angry, with the sleeves of his dressing gown rolled up and his fists clenched.

  “Stop this now!” he barked.

  Davy and Jimmy both shoved their father in the chest so hard he was knocked flat on his back. He bumped his head on the tiled floor and fell unconscious. The boys went outside and started up their motorbikes. Rosie rode pillion on Jimmy’s bike.

  They went down the cobbled street and into the village square. The front doors were open to many houses and the lights were on, with people out in the street confused as to what was going on. Many were being attacked by the bikers. There were people lying in the square seemingly unconscious, but some were getting up, with blood oozing from their throats or faces. In the centre of the square were three of Davy and Jimmy’s best friends: Jack Appleton – a curly haired lad, Barney Smith – a pug nosed boy, and Judy – his buxom girlfriend. Davy and Jimmy had known these three all their lives, had gone to school with them and played with them since they were toddlers. Three of the bikers had hold of them by the arms.

  “We caught these scallywags coming out of the village pub,” Bulldog said, “really drunk and singing songs.”

  “Jimmy, Davy, thank God it’s you,” said Jack when he saw his friends. His voice was slurred with drink.

  “Hello you three,” said Jimmy but didn’t move forward to help them.

  A second later the three bikers suddenly turned and attacked them – muttering strange curses and feeding on bleeding wounds like a pack of ferocious dogs.

  Percy appeared in the square, riding Beauty with Grace behind him, and trotted over to Davy and Jimmy. As soon as he saw Rosie up close his features took on a voracious look of anticipation.

  “Such a charming girl, so young and beautiful,” he said with a gracious bow. He dismounted Beauty and Grace followed, linking his arm and gazing at him adoringly.

  “Quite a catch,” said Percy.

  Rosie looked up at him, trembling. A moment later he’d sliced her hand with a long fingernail and was licking the blood, muttering an incantation, lost in his own world. Rosie gasped. The shock of being cut made her come to her senses, but she didn’t move or scream, merely shuddered for a while then fell to the floor unconscious.

  Percy delicately wiped the blood from his mouth with a pocket handkerchief. “And now this merriment and cursing must end. Og is most please – she says we have done well. But now it’s time we were away to Brimstone Manor – to take back m
y home. Soon all of Underwood will be in the thrall of Og. So my army grows!”

  Beauty stamped her hooves and whinnied. Percy and Grace leapt up into the air and landed on her back. The bikers left their victims bleeding on the floor and got on their bikes. With a loud revving of engines, they followed Percy out of the square.

  Davy and Jimmy hadn’t followed. Davy looked down at his sister lying unconscious at his feet, a red streak of blood oozing from her hand, staining her night dress. She opened her eyes and moaned.

  “I’m scared Davy,” she said. “I feel ill, I hear a scary voice.”

  Davy didn’t reply. He looked over a Jimmy who was standing over their friends lying unconscious on the floor. He was gazing at their ripped clothes and torn wounds – hands and legs covered in bite marks crusted with congealed blood. For a split second the boys were appalled by what they saw, wanted to help their friends, to help their sister, but then the iron grip of Og’s will once more dominated their thoughts.

  Jimmy and Davy got on their motorbikes and rode away without looking back.

  Chapter Fifteen - Small Mercies

  As your precious children grow.

  You teach them all that’s good and true.

  And one day they are big and strong.

  They don’t need the likes of you.

  You watch with interest as they live their lives.

  But somehow evil’s crept inside.

  They laugh at things that you despise.

  – A Parent’s Lament

  – By Gerald Mann, Poet, 1967.

  “My boys!” exclaimed Daisy, wringing her hands and pacing up and down the kitchen. “What’s happened to my boys?”

  “Come on Love,” said Jim, knotting his bushy eyebrows as he took her hand and squeezed it gently. “Try to calm yourself.”

  “I swear to God Jim, it was the strangest thing. They didn’t even know their own mother. And how could my sweet boys take their little sister away, just like that? I’m frightened, Jim, very frightened. What’s going on with ‘em.”

  Daisy and Jim both sat down at the large kitchen table, each pouring a mug of hot tea from a flowered china tea-pot. Two Labrador dogs and three cats gathered around their feet, looking up at their masters dolefully.