by Phil Price
☨☨☨
Half a mile to the south, Kenneth Stephen was tidying his back garden. The snow was now falling steadily, starting to cover his lawn in a white blanket. He carried a large black bin liner in one hand, picking up pieces of litter that had collected over the winter. His wife used to take care of the garden, keeping it immaculate. Now Kenneth had to take over the reins with far less enthusiasm than Denise had. He moved over to the row of conifers, picking up crisp packets and empty bottles that the local kids had no doubt thrown over the fence. As he bent down to grab an empty can of lager something caught his eye. He reached into the tree line and pulled out a dagger. His brow creased in confusion as he turned it over in his hands. He walked back through the garden, kicking his shoes off onto the mat as he stepped into the kitchen. He flicked on the hot tap on and rinsed the knife under the water, cleaning off the dirt with his thumb. Grabbing a tea towel, he patted it dry, heading over to the kitchen table to take a closer look. Donning his glasses, he turned the weapon over, looking at the handle first. It was wooden, wrapped in leather or something similar. He tested the blade with his thumb, surprised when the slightest pressure split his skin. He put his thumb in his mouth, sucking the wound as he looked at the blade. Apart from being razor sharp it was also a strange colour, almost green in its appearance. He studied it under the overhead lights, trying to find a company logo or identification marks. Nothing. It was not mass produced. It was a one off. Hand made by someone who had attention to detail and skill. He became aware that the hand holding the hilt was starting to feel cool. Not cold, but cool. The whole thing was gently radiating an unnatural coolness. The thunderbolt of realisation almost knocked him off the chair.
“The buttons,” he blurted. “It’s like the buttons.” He sat there for a few seconds, trying to digest what his brain was telling him. Something has been in my back garden. Something has been watching me. Something or someone not from this world. Another thunderbolt hit him. He almost felt his heart break with the pain. Denise. What if she didn’t die by natural causes? What if someone killed her? Or scared her to death? The chair flew back across the tiled floor, crashing into the cupboards behind. He started pacing the kitchen, his mind a maelstrom of thoughts and ideas. Eddie. He could have done this. He could have come here looking for me, but ended up killing Denise instead. He walked over to the table and picked up the knife, holding it in his palm. He gripped the handle as he thought what he should do. More pacing around the kitchen, his hand gradually turning numb. The vicar was slowly evaporating, being replaced by a grieving husband. A man. Flesh and blood, becoming consumed by guilt, rage, and revenge. His hand was now tingling with cold. He looked down at it, before plunging the knife into the kitchen table. It quivered, the handle pointing to the ceiling as he left the kitchen. He returned a few minutes later with a tool box. He dropped it on the table, flipping the lid open before rummaging around inside. He found what he was looking for. A chisel. He tested the blade, annoyed that it appeared blunt. He had time though. It was still morning. He had twelve hours before he needed to leave. He pulled a small sharpening stone out of the tool box, along with some lubricant spray. He doused the stone in a fine mist before working the blade back and forth to hone it. Five minutes later it was razor sharp. He put the stone and spray on the counter top, aware that he may need it again before he was finished. He picked up a kitchen chair, flipping it upside down on the table. The four legs were thick at the one end, gradually becoming thinner at the other. Four small plastic leg ends stopped the wood from being damaged on the floor. He set to work, gradually shaving wood from the leg until the one end had a sharp point. His brow was peppered with perspiration as he tested the point. “Perfect,” he said to himself.
☨☨☨
Later that on that Friday night, Kenneth sat at the kitchen table and took stock of his plan. Find Eddie and destroy him. Hide out in the village until the next night. Come back home. He knew that was the perfect scenario. There was a good chance that he may never come back. But what is there to come home for? he thought. I have nothing here now. Even my parishioners have deserted me. It’s only a matter of time before the church comes calling, too. He looked at the clock on the wall. Almost nine. He needed to eat something and get the house in order before he left. A brown haversack sat on the kitchen table next to him. He hoped he had everything he needed in there. He hoped he wasn’t stopped by the police on his way to the doorway. A thought occurred to him as he shrugged on his jacket. I need to tell them where I’m going. He picked up his mobile phone, dialling a number as he headed off through the front door towards the chip shop down the road.
☨☨☨
Doug walked through his front door, into his hallway. He kicked off his loafers next to the telephone table, hanging his coat on the bottom of the banister rail. He was stuffed. He’d spent the night with Katherine, Jake, and Alicia. Jake had cooked a lamb curry that was making his belt buckle strain somewhat. He decided to finish the night off with a beer in front of the television. The house was quiet. Over the last few months it started to feel cold to Doug. He missed his wife. He’d give anything to have her stood leaning against the door jamb, remonstrating with him for drinking too much beer, or not putting the toilet roll on the correct way. He would always wonder what had exactly happened. No body had been found. There was always a chance she could come walking back through the door. He was no fool though. Those chances were slim to non-existent. As he slammed the fridge door shut he noticed his mobile phone on the worktop. A small blue light was flashing in the corner. He unlocked the phone, noticing he’d had a missed call. There was also an answer phone message. Strange, he thought as he dialled his voicemail service. His phone told him he had one new message. Received almost an hour ago.
“Hi Doug. It’s Kenneth. I was hoping to catch you before I set off. Things have happened here. I won’t go into all the details but it looks like one of those things has been at my house. They may also have killed Denise.” Doug stood there, mouth slowly opening as he gripped the phone tighter. “I’m going through the doorway. I want to find this Eddie character and make him pay. I’ve got enough with me to get it done. If you don’t hear from me in the next week, you know that I didn’t make it. In which case I just wanted to say farewell. You’re a good man Doug. Take good care of yourself and your family. Bye.” It took him a few seconds to shake himself from his daze. He redialled the number, listening impatiently as it rang out. No answer. Doug cursed, dialling Jake’s number instead. After a few rings the phone was answered.
“Hi Dad. Did you forget something?”
“It’s Father Stephen. He’s going back through the doorway, looking for Eddie. It looks like Denise may have been killed by one of them. I don’t have all the details. I just know he’s on his way there.”
“Shit,” Jake said on the other end of the line. “It’s gone ten. There is no way I can get there in time. Have you called him back?”
“It’s just ringing out. What can we do?”
Doug could hear his son’s breath on the other end of the phone. “Nothing tonight Dad. Tomorrow is the earliest I can get there. I’ve got to go up there. You need to stay here with Katherine and Alicia. And by stay, I mean stay here with them while I’ve gone.”
“It’s too dangerous Son. Think of your family. What happens if you get killed?” A pause on the line. Doug could hear Katherine in the background, asking what was going on.
“I know we’re probably not going to get any sleep tonight Dad. But I will call you first thing in the morning. We can go over it then. Tonight, we will just go round in circles.”
Doug could hear Alicia crying in the background. He knew this would have to wait. “ Okay. I will be round first thing. I only hope we’re not too late to help him.”
“Me too Dad. Me too.”
Twenty-Three
Tony checked the display on his luminous dial. Ten minutes till midnight. His breath clouded as he exhaled. He was impatient. He always had bee
n. He was dressed in dark clothing, although he was not sure why. His mind had been a whirlwind as it tried to get a handle on what was happening here. He was still none the wiser, but knew that midnight was a pivotal time with all the recent activity that had taken place here. His mind almost started to wander again when he heard a sound. He held his breath, trying to locate it. The sound of shuffling footsteps told him he was no longer alone. He shrank back, away from the two trees, crouching down behind a fern several feet back. A large man appeared in the darkness, quickening his heartbeat. He looked familiar to Tony. He’d seen him before somewhere. The man turned to face the trees as he started rummaging around in a pack on his hip. Tony caught his breath in his throat when the stranger pulled out a large piece of wood, sharpened at one end. What the fuck is he doing? He thought as the man stood waiting for something. Tony checked his watch. Two minutes to midnight. His theory about midnight now looked to be correct. But what it all meant, was still out of his reach. He was at a loss as to what to do. Shall I challenge him? he thought as a wind kicked up in the trees around him. Tony felt a building pressure in his ears before they popped loudly in his head. He looked up at the man. He was clearly agitated. Something caught Tony’s eye near the two trees. He could just make out a blue glow between the trunks, gently pulsing in the dark forest. Tony squinted through his glasses, trying to make out what he was looking at. It looks like a doorway! he thought as he made out the shape of the glow. What the fucking hell is going on here? He was about to move forward when the large man walked forward towards the trees. Tony’s mouth fell open as he vanished into the night. All he could see was the glowing shape between the trees. He stood up, his thighs tingling. He moved slowly towards the spot as the doorway started blinking. He made a snap decision, running towards it. As he passed through he was aware that his progress slowed, almost halting his steps before he was on the other side. He turned around to see the doorway vanish behind him. Where am I? He thought as a large fist connected with his jaw. Then blackness.
☨☨☨
Strong hands pulled him upright, sitting him against a tree trunk. He groggily came around to see a dark figure stood before him. He could make out his clothing and face. He had a large shaggy beard and dark hair. In his hands, he held a large piece of wood and a silver cross. Tony shook his head, feeling a dull throb in his jaw.
“Who are you?” the man asked. “Are you following me?”
Tony dragged himself to his feet, feeling his jaw. “My name’s Tony. Tony Oakes. I’m a police officer. Who are you? And why did you punch me? I could have you arrested.”
“My name is Kenneth Stephen. Father Kenneth Stephen. I’m a vicar, from Rednal. Sorry I punched you. I thought you were one of them.”
“One of who?” The question immediately posed a decision for Stephen. The man would not believe his explanation. However, he was now here. He would soon see that he was telling the truth.
“One of the vampires. I know this will sound preposterous to you Tony. But you’ve stumbled into something that you shouldn’t have. I think for our own safety we should head to the village.”
“Vampires! What the fuck are you talking about? There are no such things as vampires.” As Tony finished his sentence he could make out swirling mists in the forest around them. They seemed to take shape. His throbbing jaw slowly made its way south as the apparitions suddenly resembled humans. They had blurry faces that he could clearly see. Great yawning mouths and black pits for eyes that advanced on him. He pissed his pants as he staggered back towards a tree.
“HOLY SHIT! WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON!” he screamed.
Kenneth grabbed his arm, his strong fingers wrapping around Tony’s considerable bicep. “Be quiet,” he hissed. “You need to listen. We need to move. And now.” He slapped something into Tony’s palm. It was a wooden stake, wickedly pointed at one end. “Follow me to the village. It’s not far. We can talk there, I hope.” They made their way through the thick forest, floundering over unseen tree roots.
Tony went down hard as a wraith flew past his face. His glasses flew from his face, landing in the darkness. “Shit. I’ve lost me specs,” he said, his face a mask of dirt and bracken. Stephen pulled his cross out of his pocket, its glow lighting the forest floor. Tony stared agape as the vicar picked up his dirty glasses, wiping them on his coat before handing them back.
“Let’s hurry. The cross is glowing. That’s not a good sign. Come on.” He pulled Tony to his feet before they continued their way toward a clearing in the forest. A minute later they were crashing through a rough wooden door into an old wooden house. Tony sat down heavily on a chair, his breathing and heart rate sky high. He looked at the stake in his hand and shook his head. Kenneth pulled a lighter out of his bag, lighting candles around the room to ward off the blackness outside. Blackness that seemed to press on against the window panes.
“Where am I?” Tony said, his words ragged.
Kenneth looked down at the confused man, his heart going out to him. “There is no easy way to say this, so I’ll just say it. You’re in another world. Maybe even another dimension or universe. If you listen to what I say, you may just live to make it home. Do you understand?” Tony nodded dumbly. “I’ve only recently found out about this place. A friend has already been here several times.”
“Jake Stevenson?”
Kenneth was taken aback. “Yes. How did you know that?”
“I’m a detective. The murders last year at the Lickey Hills. Stevenson was somehow involved in all of it. He’s not a killer, but he knew something. Now I can see just how much he knew.”
“I’ve known Jake all of his life. He is a good man. A man who stumbled across this by chance. It has led to much death and chaos. It all started when a vampire murdered the two people on Beacon Hill. I know all about it Tony. The prints were from a man well into his eighties. Correct?”
Tony nodded. “Yes. It was thought to be a dud lead. But the same prints appeared recently at the other murder too.”
“Eddie Guzman. A man from the Caribbean who was abducted in the early fifties. He was turned into a vampire and has spent the last sixty years wandering who knows where. I met him recently in this very cabin. He tried to kill me. I only hope he does not appear tonight. He’s not the only one either. Let me see if I can fill in a few blanks for you. After all, you’re here now Tony. You’re too far gone to turn back.” Tony nodded dumbly.
“The man who killed Jake’s friend in his house. I believe he was known as Mr Smeets. Am I correct?”
“You are.” Tony’s breathing and blood pressure were under control. “He is the prime suspect of another murder in the city.”
“His real name is Elias. He’s the one in charge. The vampire boss, I suppose you could say. Jake has had quite a few run-ins with him over the last year.”
“This is fucking unbelievable! I only came up the Lickey Hills because I thought that somehow midnight might be the link to the crazy goings on. I never expected this.”
Kenneth walked over and placed a hand on Tony’s shoulder. “Believe me. It will take some getting used to. When I first found out I was all over the place for days on end.” He pulled up a chair, resting his elbows on the gnarled table. Tony looked at his face for the first time. Flames flickered in the reflection of his glasses. Tony saw that he had a kind face. Rugged but kind. His shaggy black hair and beard were shot through with silver. Tony guessed him to be in his early sixties. He was big too. He guessed almost two metres tall. A bear of a man. He was glad to be with him.
“When did you first find out?” Tony asked, curious.
Kenneth rubbed his beard as he pondered for a moment. “About a year ago. A friend of mine, Doug Stevenson, turned up on my door in the dead of night. He had a strange woman with him. Jake was there too. He’d been bitten by a vampire. I thought it was absurd. There are no such things as vampires. Well I was wrong. I pulled a tooth as long as my finger out of his leg. When I held the tooth, I was transported here. I saw th
e monster that bit him. I almost soiled myself I can tell you. It was hideous. Like your worst nightmare. Only worse. Since that night I have kept in touch with them after they all moved down south. My wife recently passed away. That’s why I’m here. I think someone killed her. Eddie to be precise. I’m here to set the record straight.”
“Are you mad? You’re here to fight vampires with a stake and a cross? I cannot believe this shit!” Tony stood up, pacing the room. He walked to the door, looking out across the clearing towards the darkened forest. Mist was spilling out of the tree line, creeping slowly towards the house. He shuddered, slamming the door quickly. “What are they?”
“No idea. They look like ghosts. They seem to live in the forest. There is no sun here. The whole land lies under a blanket of thick cloud. There is so much to tell you Tony. Jake knows far more than I.”
Something occurred to Tony. “One of my officers said he fought with Jake in the Lickey Hills. He said that Jake vanished into the night. Now I can see just how he did that. He was coming through the doorway.” It was a statement, not a question.