In Search of the Alter Dom

by Jack Challis

Caddoc’s small black ringed eyes studied the policeman’s face with malicious intent. ‘Err, disgusting!’ Caddoc observes. ‘Hair is growing out of your nose and ears – it’s making me want to spew up!’ Then suddenly Caddoc remembers. ‘Blodwyn Jones – Blodwyn Jones!’ he cries out.

  ‘Blodwyn Jones!’ they all repeated. ‘Was she there?’ Sgt Thomas asks.

  ‘No,’ replies Caddoc. ‘She set it all up!’

  ‘Caddoc is suffering from aftershock…. He needs rest,’ advises Doctor Tudor Ellis.

  ‘It’s the bloody truth!’ Caddoc swears. ‘Why don’t you believe the truth?’

  ‘Does my Caddoc need counseling Doctor?’ asks Mrs. Morgan, concerned.

  ‘I will give him counseling – with the back of my hand – if he swears again,’ says Sgt Thomas.

  ‘And about bloody time!’ Mumbles Morgan the Milk under his breath: before withdrawing his head back into the Sporting Life like a nervous turtle.

  ‘Now bend over Caddoc,’ says Dr Tudor Ellis, ‘this rabies injection will hurt.’ Caddoc gave out a bellow as the injection sank deep – then passed out! ‘I wouldn’t put it past that Blodwyn Jones – she is a right little Madame,’ says Mrs. Morgan. ‘You will have to have a word with her Sgt Thomas.’

  ‘I will be around the Jones’s first thing Mrs. Morgan,’ replies Sgt Thomas. ‘Now – good night to you.’

  ‘Are you really going to see the Jones’s, Tom?’ asks Doctor Tudor Ellis, as they walked home.

  ‘Of course Tudor – first thing to order a nice leg of Welsh lamb from Blodwyn’s dad, Brian – for my Sunday lunch see.’

  Caddoc got his new mobile the next day; a more expensive model bought by his mother. One week later, when he had partly recovered from his ordeal: Caddoc planned revenge. He sat at his game boy dressed in a brand new Yankees baseball jacket and cap; a present from his doting mother. He sat in a zombie like trance – eyes blank, fixed on a flashing screen. Suddenly the images on the screen began to distort – to his horror the face of a Tartarus Hob appeared! Caddoc quickly switched the game boy off; then jumped out of his skin when his new mobile rang.

  The call came from his stolen mobile! Caddoc thought he recognized the voice – it sounded like Myfanwy Jenkins – but impossible!

  ‘I am waiting for you Caddoc!’ the voice announces. ‘A Hob is at your window.’ The grinning face of Bulrus Khan peered in at him through the open window! Caddoc slammed the open window shut. ‘I can’t come – I am too scared to leave my room, see,’ Caddoc pleads.

  ‘You should be scared to stay in your room!’ the voice answers.

  Caddoc realized the voice was no longer coming from his stolen mobile but from inside his own room! Caddoc’s small pig-like eyes widened and fixed themselves on a dark corner. Something big was moving in a flowing motion; like a stack of patterned car tyres – a giant python! Glassy lidless-eyes in a large, triangular scaled head mesmerized him. A flickering tongue tasted the air. The giant constrictor hissed! Caddoc Morgan, the heartless bully picked up his new trainers and shot out of the door – like a rat up a drain pipe.

  Two Tartarus Hobs – Bulrus Khan and Bellbinder waited in the shadows. They pulled and tugged Caddoc across the ford and up the lonely mountain path; his second ordeal was about to begin.

  Nearing the big rock Caddoc heard mad laughter, accompanied by grunts and squeals of pain! He saw an old hook-nosed Hag riding nimbly on the back of the Tartarus Hob Bunderhund. The old hag was biting the Hob’s ear to make him run faster. She agilely leapt off the Hob’s back at Caddoc’s approach and regarded the shaking bully. A large purple mole with hairs sprouting stood proud on the hag’s big hooked conk; at the tip of which, a long silvery dewdrop clung – defying gravity!

  Caddoc watched the elastic dewdrop rise and fall: horribly fascinated. The Hag’s eyes were deep set and dark ringed; yet sparkled emerald green! Her wrinkled skin seemed to be decaying and was ingrained with dirt; her rotten teeth black and broken.

  And worst of all the – old Hag stank of puke and pee – it turned his stomach! ‘It’s Caddoc Morgan – is it,’ says the old Hag in a very pronounced Welsh accent. ‘Have you ever snogged a weasel Caddoc?’

  ‘No – way José!’ answers the bully Caddoc: trying to sound brave.

  ‘Now then,’ says the old Hag, ‘I am going to ride you over jumps see – or as your old dad “Morgan the Milk” would say – “over the sticks.”

  She then pinched Caddoc’s thick legs with her skinny, clawed hand. ‘Ah, good strong legs boyo isn’t it.’

  ‘I have started pumping iron,’ says Caddoc: puffing out his chest to look bigger; an attempt to intimidate the grotty and gruesome old crone.

  ‘Are you sure it’s Iron you are pumping Caddoc – and not wood!’ the old Hag asks with a snigger.

  Caddoc looked sheepish! The three Hobs started to laugh – then stopped and scratched their shaggy heads – not understanding the joke.

  ‘Now Caddoc,’ continued the horrible Hag, ‘if you shy at the jumps I will stick my lovely fingers in your little pudding-hole and larrup and lampoon you with this stick see – while biting your little fat lug-flaps.’ She then pulled back her thin wrinkled lips and chomped her black rotten teeth in a biting demonstration. The old Hag noticed Caddoc’s new jacket and felt the material with boney hand. ‘A lovely bit of smutter my dear,’ the old Hag announces in a Fagin accent. She then wiped the over long dew-drop on the horrified Caddoc’s new jacket.

  ‘Now then Caddoc,’ the old Hag croaked, returning to a strong Welsh accent, ‘how would you like to see my lovely legs cariad – for a fiver? Or alternatively, you can snog me – but if you use your tongue – it will cost more see!’ The old crone pursed her thin cracked, wrinkled lips expectantly. Caddoc grimaced. Kissing the old crone or looking at her legs were the last things Caddoc wanted! ‘I haven’t got a fiver, see,’ Caddoc lies.

  Immediately, powerful arms grabbed his ankles, and turned Caddoc upside down – shaking him. A shower of sweets and pound coins fell on the stony mountain path.

  ‘Ten pounds!’ exclaims the delighted old crone; on her hands and knees, counting, and stuffing her pockets with money and sweets. ‘I have changed my mind Caddoc,’ says the old Hag, ‘the price has gone up to ten pounds, inflation see! Looking at my lovely legs Caddoc is much better than looking at all those magazines you keep under your bed.

  Caddoc gulped, his secret was out! He did not realize his mother had found the magazines three months ago while making his bed! ‘I found them in a skip,’ fibs Caddoc. ‘I brought them home to burn – to protect other children!’ The three Tartarus Hobs rocked with laughter – they were regular skip-miners!

  ‘Now, Caddoc – you can see the real thing!’ The old hag croaked: lifting her tattered dirt covered skirt and exposing a pair of disgusting, nauseating, scrawny bandy, blue veined legs; covered in coarse black hairs, warts and dirt – with knees like bed-knobs! If you are lucky you may get a glimpse of my drawers!’ giggles the old Hag. Caddoc retched!

  The old Hag then wiggled her long filthy, bony crooked toes; with long dirty yellow toenails right under Caddoc’s pug snout. Caddoc winced: but he noticed two sparkling diamond rings!

  ‘Don’t you think I have the most lovely feet – you have ever seen?’ croaked the old Hag. Caddoc felt sick in his stomach, but did his utmost to hold on to the three large deep pan pizzas he had for his tea. ‘That’s enough,’ says the old Hag dropping her skirts and giving Caddoc a wink. ‘I do not want to give you eye-candy for later! Now Caddoc Morgan – if you are good and can save up twenty pounds – I will let you suck my lovely big toe!’ The disgusting old Hag stuck the filthy raised-up smelly digit right under Caddoc’s snout. That was the last straw! Caddoc threw up – a Technicolour yawn, any student at Aberystwyth University would have been proud of.

  The old Hag then addresses the three Tartarus Hobs. ‘Get down on your hands and knees – you useless imbeciles – six paces apart.’ The old Hag backed up a dozen strides, hoisted up he
r tattered skirts; tucking them into her threadbare drawers. Then with a short run-up, she did a double summersault and pike high into the air and landed on Caddoc’s broad back; quickly bringing the hazel switch down hard on his fat backside!

  Caddoc took off like a startled colt, up the path. He was then turned and headed for the crouching Hobs at a fast gallop. Caddoc cleared each of the three hobs’ backs, then jumped them from the other direction up-hill and came to an exhausted halt. The old Hag leapt off his back and stood before the panting Caddoc. Before the bully Caddoc Morgan’s eyes the old disgusting Hag turned into the beautiful Myfanwy Jenkins!

  Grunwalde giggled at Caddoc’s terrified reaction. Then her face turned serious. ‘I give you fair warning – Caddoc Morgan. Never speak of what you witnessed this night. You are now in the hold of Star-worshipers – a tithe-payer!’ Turning, Grunwalde gracefully glides into the dark woods without a backward glance. Caddoc’s small fat goby-like mouth hung open. ‘What did she mean?’ he asked himself.

  ‘Idiot,’ says Bellbinder the Tartarus Hob, ‘you are now a servant of the Changelings – to do their bidding – just like we.’

  ‘Now it’s our turn to ride upon your back,’ Bulrus Khan announces.

  Caddoc gulped: but accepted his fate – he had no option!

  Thereafter, the three Tartarus Hobs were always waiting for their sport when Caddoc was summoned to the big rock, at the birth of dusk. The Hobs rode him up and down the mountain path, spurring him on with their sharp dewclaws and a hazel switch; occasionally Grunwalde Angharad joined in their jolly japes. Sometimes Bryn Jones the wino watched from the shadowy woods; while moonbeams danced over his ruddy face on windy nights. He would smile; between pulls from his jug of homemade rocket fuel!

  CHAPTER FIVE

  The Scavenging Female Rills

  Beware the scavenging female Rills: who emerge at birth of dusk.

  Carrying rusty cauldrons and sharpened knives – Bitch-Rills trailing

  naked tails; and the vile odour of rodent musk

  Late that same Midsummer Eve night, after Caddoc Morgan’s first ordeal, when both her parents were asleep; Blodwyn quietly closed the front door behind her. The three Tartarus Hobs were waiting on the riverbank. The Tartarus Hobs were unusually silent, walking on all fours; these knuckle-walkers were keeping a low profile. The stiff ridge of bristles on their muscular backs stood erect; their dark hides glistened with sweat. They stopped regularly to test the breeze with their up-turned noses – for Tormented Taarbs grew bolder after sunset! Blodwyn felt safe under the Hobs’ protection, despite their offensive damp, rotten-dog odour.

  The two Lings suddenly appear as they reached the big rock, a lovely Mayling and the smaller bug-like Sisling. ‘We must hurry,’ says the Mayling. ‘We can smell Taarbs on the higher slopes!’

  Each Ling took one of Blodwyn’s hands; she felt herself rising slowly, and then accelerating rapidly. The antenna of the Sisling twitched, searching for the invisible mouth of the Energy Band, a mile high above the ground. A powerful pull drew them upwards. Blodwyn feels like an ant inches away from a Hoover! Instantly they were sucked into the surge of an Energy Band. Blodwyn was now flying without aid from the Lings; although she was forced to take short sharp breaths initially. Looking down, Earth was two miles below her feet! Suddenly her stomach dropped as the energy band banked steeply to the left – it was like flying in an invisible plane!

  (Energy bands and Prism windows are dangerous! They sometimes reach down to Earth’s surface on warm summer evenings just before dusk. If you see the faintest shaft of pastel shimmers across a lonely wooded path or quiet lane – do not enter! Energy bands will take you to another planet: Prism windows are a gateway to a parallel world!)

  To Blodwyn time seemed to hang suspended; soon they were approaching the moon! The energy band now curved down. She knew she was going to be shot out head first – a mile above the moon’s rocky surface!

  “Where were the Lings?” Without warning, Blodwyn felt herself hurtling downwards – in freefall! Her heart pounded – she screamed!

  “Had the Lings forgotten she could not fly?” Suddenly the Lings appeared by her face, grinning. ‘Look – Blodwyn’s flying,’ they teased.

  ‘I am not flying – I am falling – about to break my bloody neck!’ screams Blodwyn hysterically.

  The two Lings howled with laughter. “Oh hell,” thought Blodwyn, “if I die with swear words on my lips – I will end up in Golgin Hade with Tormented Taarbs.” The hard stony ground of the moon was rushing towards her soft face! ‘Do something you pair of useless little sods!’ The two Lings again howled with laughter. Blodwyn closed her eyes – ready for impact – she knew her end would be quick!

  With only time to recite the first word of a prayer before impact; Blodwyn felt herself being turned feet first, gently landing on the gritty surface of the moon. Blodwyn felt ashamed for panicking, she will have to trust the power of Lings in future.

  She gazed around; there were no contrasting colours on the Moon; everything was a pale uniform sandy orange – the reflection of the sun.

  ‘We must go to the dark side of Rilla (the Moon),’ announces Boodi the lovely Mayling, ‘where moon-flowers grow, stay here – beware the scavenging female Rills!’ Before Blodwyn could speak – the two Lings were gone. “They must be teasing: Grunwalde told her…. Rills were harmless little creatures!” Blodwyn was not aware that Lings, unlike their fickle human Queen – never told lies!

  She began to deeply regret her decision to go on this quest. She felt helpless; lost and lonely as she looked at distant planet Earth. Earth looked so tranquil, pristine, innocent, a haze of pale blue with swirls of white clouds.

  Blodwyn took a deep breath; the air was much thinner on the lunar surface. Because the moon remained static, on the side that faced Earth, it was always daylight and dry. Plant life grew only on the moon’s dark-side, which was star-lit from outer-space. Nectar rich flowers emerged from the stony ground like polyps from a coral bed; to feed large, foot long luminous moon-moths. Lacking chlorophyll, all the flowers were pale pastels. The triple-hearted Lings had a high metabolism and regularly needed energy rich pollen and nectar: like humming birds.

  Blodwyn suddenly felt conspicuous and vulnerable standing in the open. She felt uneasy – shrouded by an eerie cloak of silence! She was tired, due to the thin air, and beginning to feel cold, a chilly wind had picked up. She walked towards a line of small hillocks in the distance that were in semi gloom on the edge of the moon’s dark side; she needed to find a safe warm place to rest out of sight.

  Blodwyn was confident the two Lings with their keen sense of smell would soon find her. She began to see bones gleaming in the poor light. Bleached skulls of dogs, cats and several badgers lay around the moon’s dusty surface, their empty eye-sockets following her movements: they grinned – mocking her passage! Blodwyn knew something was very wrong – no set of bones were complete, they were scattered – broken as if picked over! She took a closer look. All the bones had cuts or teeth marks on them!

  Continuing, she noticed the remains of some animal freshly butchered! Only the skin, bone and blood-soaked fur remained; framed on a crimson stain. Blodwyn knew that these animals had unwittingly wandered into the mouth of a low reaching Energy Band back on Earth! “But who was butchering them? Surely not the harmless little Rills!”

  Blodwyn tightened her grip on the stout staff and continued toward the hillocks; she had to find safe shelter as soon as possible.

  After half a mile she stopped to catch her breath, the thin air was exhausting. In the distance, she saw the unmistakable outline of a modern hang-glider, its tattered sail flapping in the chilly wind. She did not intend to inspect its owner’s remains!

  Greater horror awaited her. A few paces ahead on a fresh glistening red backcloth – lay a new blue tracksuit stained and torn – an expensive mobile lay nearby. Blodwyn stopped stunned! This was not a distant event: it was like now! The mobile was still on –
a desperate, futile call for help! Blodwyn stared mesmerized at the mobile – it rang!! Blodwyn’s heart stopped: she jumped back! “How could she answer – what could she say to the responder – of the desperate call?”

  Increasing her stride to remove herself from the scene and the still ringing mobile, Blodwyn reached the small hillocks. She found they were the raised edges of moon craters.

  Finding a small depression at the side of one; she made herself comfortable. Sitting down with her rucksack on her lap, she took out a blanket and pulled it over her legs for protection from the chilly wind. Blodwyn tried to console herself with the thought that the owner of the mobile was dead before he or she arrived on the moon surface. But logically knew dead people do not make distress calls! She decided to go home – as soon as the Lings returned; there was something dangerous here!

  Blodwyn was about to check the contents of her rucksack, when a strange noise startled her! The noise came from the other side of the crater wall. She froze and listened, trying to analyse the sounds that were becoming more frantic! The sounds could only be described as shuffling; sometimes punctuated by stamping, accompanied by the odd grunt and squeal. Blodwyn Jones was not a girl to sit tight and hope for the best – she had to know the sounds’ origins – afraid as she was!

  Getting up as quietly as possible and firmly gripping her staff, Blodwyn tiptoed towards the edge of a large rock. Instead of looking over the top and breaking the skyline; she slowly popped her head around the side of the rock. Blodwyn’s eyes widened as she saw the creature responsible!

  Three meters away she saw a giant rodent biped over a meter tall, its back to her. Because of the creature’s long naked tail and the size of its swollen plumbs, she knew instantly – it was a giant Dog-Rat! The giant rodent was practicing swordsmanship, totally unaware of her presence; she was down-wind of the Dog-Rat. The rodent’s long body ended in a pair of extremely short bandy legs. The Dog-Rat began wrapping its long hairless, naked tail around its waist and tying it in a knot. “Surely, this overlarge rodent was not a harmless little Rill, described by Grunwalde – it was armed – besides rats were vicious!”