The Turning (The Forsaken Series Book 2)

by Phil Price

  “Morning Babe. Bought you a cup of tea.” Jake placed it on her bedside table before opening the curtains. He spent a moment drinking in the view. The Atlantic was spread out in front of him. Low clouds were being blown out to sea, shafts of morning sun piercing them randomly. He never wanted to leave this magical place.

  “Thanks Love,” Katherine said, as she carefully levered herself into a sitting position. These new words that Jake had taught her now seemed so natural to her. She loved their little pet names for each other. This strange world was fast becoming the norm for her, with its coffee shops and boutiques. Katherine felt whole. She sipped at her tea, nodding in appreciation. “You make wonderful tea Jake. Uncle Wilf would drink this all day.” She paused for a moment, lost to her thoughts. “I wonder what became of him and the village?”

  “Hopefully they made it out to Shetland. We have to believe that. We have to believe that Wilf is stood looking out to sea, wondering how we are.” Katherine liked his logic. He sat down on the bed next to her. “I just saw on the news. A young lad was found in a cave not far from here. He’d been burnt to death.”

  “Oh no. How awful. Does anyone know how it happened?”

  “Not yet. I will unfold in time. It’s not nice to think that such bad things can happen in such a beautiful place.” He put his empty coffee cup on the window sill and stroked Katherine’s bump. “Hello princess,” he cooed gently. “It’s your daddy. I can’t wait to meet you.” He kissed her tummy, wrapping his arms around her back. She smiled at the sight before her. She was complete. She now felt whole. She scratched the back of Jake’s head, just the way he liked it. He writhed in appreciation. He could lie like this all day. Eventually he broke the hold and kissed her warmly on the lips. She returned his kiss, pulling him towards her. He felt the stirrings of arousal as her lips melded with his, small moans escaping her lips, her fingers kneading his neck. He gently broke away, kissing the top of her head. “I need to go to work. And if you don’t stop kissing me I’m going to get into bed and kiss every inch of you all day long.”

  “Forget work Jake. As you can see I have many extra inches that now require kissing.” She looked down at her belly to make her point.

  “Hmmm. I wish I could. I do have to go though. You’re only a few weeks away now and I need to tie up a few loose ends. Sorry to be such a spoil sport. I tell you what. When I get in, I’ll run you a nice bath and put one of those fizzy bomb things in that you like.”

  “I guess that will have to do. Will you be late home?” Katherine said, masking her disappointment.

  “No later than five. I’ve got to go down to Looe to meet a client this afternoon. And I need to write up a report for the Truro job. Can you call Mom later and tell her that she left her purple cardigan here? She will be going mental, and Dad will be getting it in the neck. What plans do you have?”

  “Angie is popping round at midday for tea and cake. That’s as far as my plans stretch. I’m just so tired at the moment. I may have a lie down after that.”

  “Yes, well a belly full of tea and cake should help you sleep Babe,” he teased as he bent down to kiss her. She lifted her head to meet him, their lips coming together for a moment. “I’ll call you later. We seriously need to get you a mobile soon.”

  “I know. We can get one this week. Then you can spend a week teaching me about all that goes with it. All that Facebook and What’s up stuff.”

  He laughed, sorely tempted to correct her mistake. He needed to make tracks though. “Bye Babe. Love you,” he said as he left the bedroom.

  “Love you too Jake.” She heard him close the door. The footsteps to his car floated up through the bedroom window. She picked up her tea as Jake’s car reversed out of the driveway and headed off down the road. Katherine sat drinking her tea, suddenly thinking about the body found in the cave. She shivered at the thought as the sun was blotted out by a passing cloud, making the room feel cooler. She put the tea down and swung her legs over the side of the bed. The sun reappeared from behind the clouds as she made her way to the bathroom, readying herself for tea and cake.

  ☨☨☨

  As the sun vanished below the horizon, Elias made his way out of his refuge. He sniffed the air. The scent of the sea seemed to mask other smells around him. He realised that it may make it more difficult to find Jake and the woman. He made his way along the beach, climbing the steep coastal path towards the village. He kept to the shadows as people were still milling around after a day’s activities on the beach and around the high street. He spotted the big hotel to his left and started to head in that direction. Elias froze as he caught a whiff of something on the wind. He tried to recall the scent. It wasn’t blood. It was something else. Something that didn’t belong here. He caught another hit of it, making him change his route. Heading for an unknown destination.

  Seven

  Father Stephen climbed over the heavy wooden gate, almost stumbling onto the grass on the other side. The wraiths and spirits had followed him to the edge of the forest. They kept their distance though. The silver cross in his hands kept them at bay as they twisted themselves around giant tree trunks, cursing the stranger as he fled the forest. His breathing was laboured, his pulse thumping between his ears as he made his way almost drunkenly towards a large building. He mounted the steps and crashed through the front door, landing on his knees in a low-slung room. The night whinnied and whined behind him as he scrambled to his feet. He slammed the door shut, drawing a crude bar into place to keep out what wanted to get in. Jesus Fucking Christ. What I have I stumbled across? It was all true. Doug was right. Now was not a time to question how this could be possible. It was possible. It was real. Father Kenneth Stephen. A middle-aged vicar from Bewdley, Worcestershire was standing in a house in another dimension. He’d watched enough sci-fi movies to realise that this dimension may be completely different from his. He’d already shared many a dream with a beast called Reggan. An unseen hooded vampire that pursued him through darkened corridors as he slept safe in his bed. The realisation that Reggan, or something similar may actually be out there made him want to dig a hole in the floor and bury himself. He looked at the window. The darkness seemed to press against the glass, threatening to break it. As he peered out he saw tendrils of mist slowly snaking from the forest towards the house. Shit. Shit shit shit, he cursed as he suddenly remembered the lighter in his pocket. He looked around the room, noticing several dead candles. He quickly set to work, lighting the room until it was almost cosy. He felt better knowing that he could at least see his surroundings. He suddenly felt famished. He’d neglected to bring any food or drink with him. He’d not planned that far ahead. Now he stood there trying to figure out how to get through the next twenty four hours. He made his way to the rear of the house, looking for anything that he could eat. A small door in the corner of the room made him curious. He opened it and peered into the blackness. It was impossibly dark. He fetched one of the candles and gingerly ventured inside. Unsure what was waiting for him.

  ☨☨☨

  Eddie was awoken by shrieks and wails from the far off forest. His yellow eyes scanned the tree tops from his vantage point. Something was amiss in Amatoll. He could almost see what it was. Something was carving a path through the forest. He could just make out a point of light between the trees that was moving south. Could it be Jake? Or Elias ? Or something else? He thought. He stood up and made his way to the edge of the bluff. The wind was behind him, no smells from the forest giving him any clues. It was gut instinct. He went with his gut as he set off down the mountain towards the ancient forest.

  ☨☨☨

  Kenneth Stephen set the items on the gnarled table next to the window. Whoever had lived here had left in a hurry. The house still almost felt lived in. He’d found three large strips of dried meat and two clay bottles of liquid, sealed with cork and wax. He fell on the meat, ripping off hardened chunks before chewing them greedily. It reminded him of Beef Jerky, or Biltong. Whatever animal it had come from,
he didn’t care. It tasted amazing. He was just finishing the first strip as he started fumbling with the waxed cork on the bottle. After a few twists and grunts the stopper came out with an audible pop. He sniffed the contents. It smelt like some kind of spirit. He took a tentative sip. It tasted like whisky. Albeit like one of the discount brands from the supermarket. He didn’t care though. He took two long swigs, letting it warm his throat and chest. It also seemed to steady his heart to something resembling normalcy. He set the bottle down and scanned the room. There was a large fireplace on the far wall with a small cauldron sat on the stone flags. A few shelves dotted around the room offered little insight into who had lived here. As he started on the second strip of meat he noticed that the forest seemed quieter. The thought left his mind as he continued to scan the room. Nothing of real interest caught his eye as he reached for the bottle next to the window. His eyes looked out into the night for any sign of activity. They found it immediately. A set of eyes locked onto his from the other side of the pane. Yellow, feral eyes.

  ☨☨☨

  Stephen tried to stand. He willed his legs to push him away from the table. His legs felt like lead though. The chair felt like it weighed a tonne. He was paralysed. The figure on the other side of the glass smiled, revealing a pair of wickedly curved canines. They were dirty. The colour of ash. His face was grey, framed by dark hair. He moved closer to the window, his eyes dancing in the night, soothing the vicar’s fears. In his mind’s eye he was suddenly young again. Walking through a beautiful forest with his lovely girlfriend, Denise. They were holding hands, smiling at each other. Denise. He suddenly remembered his wife. What will she think if I never return home? It would destroy her. He willed himself to stand, breaking the glare of the vampire briefly. He slowly walked backwards into the room as the monster outside moved away from the window. Stephen could hear heavy footfalls on the wooden boards outside, until they stopped in front of the door. The door flew open, the bar splintering, scattering itself across the floor. Mist flooded in, carpeting the floor knee deep. Kenneth watched as the vampire glided in, closing the gap between them to ten feet. He was much shorter than the vicar. Stocky though. His arms hung down by his sides, his hands lost in the mist. The larger man felt his head start to swim again. A wind kicked up outside, knocking the door against its splintered jamb. Mist was blown around the room, extinguishing all but one of the candles. The room was returned to its darkened state. Kenneth could now only just about make out the features of the thing before him. The eyes now seemed to increase in power as they glowed brighter than the solitary candle.

  “You’re not from this land,” it said. “You came through the doorway in the forest.” He shuffled a few steps closer, the boards under his feet creaking. Father Stephen caught the smell of the vampire as it drew nearer. A wet, sick stench that seemed to coat the back of his throat. It suddenly stopped and sniffed the air. He recoiled a step as if slapped by an invisible hand. “You’re a Shaman. I can taste it in the air.”

  Father Stephen finally uttered his first words. “I’m a Vicar. A man of God.” His words sounded empty in the gloom.

  “Then your blood is of no use to me. I’d rather drink horses piss.”

  “Then,” he faltered. “Then leave me be! I made a mistake coming here. I will be on my way home very soon.”

  The vampire shook his head slowly. “I doubt that, vicar. You will never leave this forest. Not as a human anyway. Maybe you can drink from me. Maybe that will open your eyes to the truth. Not the preaching’s from a book. Come. Come closer to Eddie.” Stephen took a step backwards as Eddie glided closer. He lifted a ruined hand to his lips, biting his wrist, holding it out to him as an offering. “Drink.” Stephen shrank back further at the sight of yellowed flesh and oozing black blood. He suddenly became aware of the warmth on his hip. Without taking his eyes off of Eddie he slipped his hand into his pocket, almost cursing as the metal cross stuck to his flesh. He pulled it from his pocket, holding it at arm’s length in front of him. The room lit up, blinding Stephen. Eddie fell back, landing on his side in the mist. His screams filling the small room. Stephen’s fist tightened on the hot cross. It hurt like hell. He embraced the pain though. It was his ally. It would focus his mind on staying alive. He took a step forward, noticing that even the mist seemed to shrink away from the cross. It billowed and puffed itself towards the corners of the room as he moved. Eddie was scrambling to his feet like a boxer who’d been floored. He staggered into the table.

  Stephen sensed salvation. “GET THE HELL OUT OF HERE! GO ON. GET OUT!” He pressed his advantage, shepherding Eddie towards the front door His fist was now numb and tingling but never wavered. He held it steady. Eddie fell through the doorway, crashing into the wooden railing that ran the length of the porch. He snarled as the man approached, drawing his legs underneath him, ready to spring. Light spilled onto the porch and grass beyond as Father Stephen walked through the door. How can this crucifix work on him? He thought. If there is no God then this cross should be useless. But it’s not. I can feel the power flowing through it. What does this mean? He was lost in his thoughts for a moment. Eddie sensed the cross’s power diminish slightly. He braced himself against the rail, hurling himself forward into the vicar. Stephen was a big, powerfully built man. However, the wind was dashed from his lungs as the vampire’s shoulder landed in his stomach, propelling them both backwards into the house. They skidded on the wooden floor, the mist swirling around their bodies as they came to a halt in a tangle of limbs. Stephen was dazed and winded as he looked up at Eddie above him. In his rage, Eddie had forgotten that his adversary was a man of God. He went in for the kill, his dirty mouth swooping down for Stephen’s neck. He was dazed but he saw the vampire’s intentions. He brought up his hands to ward off the attack, He was still holding the cross. It was now almost welded to his palm. The metal prong at the head of the crucifix entered Eddie’s mouth, jabbing into the its roof, almost puncturing flesh. Blinding light and the vampire’s screams filled the room as the cross did its damage. Eddie flew from the house, smashing through the wooden porch before fleeing into the forest. Kenneth sat up groggily, a sharp pain in his side making him wince. His sight had not yet cleared. Light shapes danced across his vision as he rubbed at his eyes. The wails and screams of the fleeing monster died away as his vision took in the room once more. He slowly climbed to his feet, his breathing harsh and ragged as he held his ribs. He knew something was broken. He took a deep breath in until the pain was too much to bear. He exhaled fiercely, holding onto the table for support. Pulling a chair out, he slumped down, arms banging on the wooden table top. He checked the time. Almost two o’clock. Realisation hit that he would have to spend another twenty two hours in this world before he could make it home. Twenty two hours in a land full of who knew what. He’d already met a vampire, barely surviving the encounter. What else was out there that could harm him ?He felt evil all aroundhim. The forest seemed to radiate it. He thought of Jake. How had you survived here? What horrors had you seen? How in hell did you stumble across this place? He knew that if he made it home he would have to find Jake and Doug and tell them what had happened. His eyes found the clay bottle, he grabbing it he took a long swig. The spirit calmed him. He found the stick of meat he’d started and continued eating it, trying to plan his next twenty two hours in this unknown place. Trying to get home to his Denise.

  Eight

  Kerry sat on her bed, headset on, playing her favourite video game. She was pitted against an online buddy from California. And she was kicking his ass. Her parents were asleep on the other side of the house, their bedroom door closed. It was way past midnight but Kerry wasn’t tired. She was a night owl, who’d probably sleep till the early afternoon, much to her parent’s annoyance. The room was dark, save for the light from the screen. That’s how she liked it. It made the game seem more real, like she was in a movie theatre. The top window was open a crack, letting in the sea air. She always slept with the window open, whatever the season
. It had been a warm night with a pleasant breeze blowing in from the ocean. Now as she sat cross legged in a pair of joggers and vest top she started to feel a chill. She pulled the duvet up over her shoulders to keep warm. The video game was in mid battle and she didn’t want to pause it to put her bed socks and fleece on. She would do that later. She heard a cat howl in the distance, like it was squaring up for a fight. Her cat, Gizmo was out somewhere. Probably patrolling the gardens, garages, and roadway at the back of the houses she guessed. She heard another howl, making her look around at the window. It had become misty outside. Not like normal. Really misty, cold too. She paused the game, her buddy forgotten. Taking her headphones off, she slid from the bed and shuffled to the window. The mist was really thick. It seemed to stick to the glass, swirling and pulsating. She’d never seen mist like this. She shivered involuntarily, hugging herself to keep warm. She could not even make out the garage at the bottom of the garden, such was the thickness of the fog. She placed her hands on the sill to try to look to the house next door. As she did so she knocked the frame containing Jake’s buttons. They fell to the floor, landing in a muted clunk on the carpet.