The Darkest Corners

Home > Science > The Darkest Corners > Page 12
The Darkest Corners Page 12

by Barry Hutchison


  ‘Wait!’

  That was Mr Mumbles’ voice, low and urgent. I ignored it and kept running. The man who had ruined not just my life, but the entire world, was in there somewhere in my home. Sitting on my mum’s bed, maybe, or looking in her wardrobe, or finding some other way to trample all over her memory.

  ‘Kyle, stop!’

  That was Ameena, not as close behind me as I’d have expected. Too scared to run, probably. Too afraid of facing the man – the monster – who had used her to get to me. I was scared, too, but it was a fear that drove me on, not held me back. It was the fear of not getting to him, not facing him, not making him pay. I would not, could not, fail. Not this time.

  ‘It’s a trap!’

  That was Ameena too, shrill and more panicked than I’d ever heard her. A trap. I allowed myself a grim smile. Of course it was a trap. I knew it was a trap.

  I just didn’t care.

  The first one bounded over a fence a little ahead of me on the right. It was short and gloopy-looking, with long stringy strands of something like seaweed trailing from its limbs.

  The smell of it reached me first. It was the smell of week-old fish. The thing itself followed close behind, arms reaching out, slimy face contorted in a snarl.

  I ducked the arms, turned sharply and smashed the baton into the creature’s ribs. It gave a bubbly shriek and tried to turn. I swung with the baton again, smashing it against the back of its thigh this time. It went down with a splat and I set off running once more towards the house.

  I could see the rest of them now. Things of all shapes and sizes emerged from cover along the road. They were ahead of me, behind me, drawing in from both sides. Hairy things, scaly things, things with no real texture at all. They closed in, cutting me off from Ameena and the others.

  ‘Come on then!’ I bellowed, and some of them actually seemed to hesitate.

  Most didn’t, though. I heard a clicking on the pavement and turned in time for something small and fast-moving to launch itself at my chest. I hit the road hard and the baton rolled from my hand.

  The thing on my chest began to claw at my shirt, snarling and spitting like something demonic. I made a grab for it and my fingers found damp fur. It raised its head and flashed its jagged teeth. I spotted its plush nose and little red bow tie and in that moment I realised I was fighting a teddy bear.

  Ignoring the teeth, I clamped a hand down on its head and pulled. The synthetic fur stretched. A seam split. The teddy howled as its stuffing spilled out on to the street.

  And then it stopped howling. I tossed the empty skin away, grabbed the baton and leapt back to my feet in time to see an entire army of monsters slowly closing in around me.

  I turned on the spot, baton ready. How many of them were there? Dozens? Hundreds? I couldn’t tell. They swarmed from every direction, filling the whole street. They looked like exhibits in some weird alien zoo, a few of them vaguely human-looking, but most of them too bizarre for words.

  Eyes trained on me. Tongues flicked hungrily across bloated lips. Knuckles cracked and muscles twitched and on they came, closer and closer, nearer and nearer.

  ‘Stop.’

  I recognised the voice. That was him. My dad. My head snapped up at the sound of his voice. He leaned on the ledge of my open bedroom window, looking down. At his command the circle of horror stopped closing in. He smiled at that, enjoying the power.

  ‘Leave him. He’s mine.’

  A disappointed murmur rippled around the crowd. It parted just enough for Ameena and the others to be shoved through. Billy stumbled, but I caught him before he could hit the ground. He looked like he wanted to cry, but he was doing his damnedest not to.

  ‘As we were saying,’ Mumbles scowled. ‘“Look out, it’s a trap.”’

  A girl with her hair scraped back in a tight ponytail and blood across her face stepped forward. She looked to be about ten years old until she scowled, revealing teeth that had been filed to razor-sharp points. ‘What about the rest of them? What do we do with his friends?’

  My dad tapped his chin. ‘Well… sorry, what was your name?’

  The girl cracked her knuckles. ‘Leah,’ she said. ‘Leah Wilson.’

  ‘Oh,’ said my dad flatly. ‘Really? I expected something scarier. Never mind. Well, Leah Wilson, here’s what I suggest.’ A crooked smile parted his lips. ‘Kill them. Kill them all.’ He fixed me with eyes filled with glee. ‘And be sure to do it slowly.’

  Mr Mumbles snorted out a laugh. He jabbed a thumb in the direction of the little girl. ‘What, Tinkerbell? Kill me? I’d like to see her try.’

  Leah Wilson flicked her wrists. A long curved claw erupted through the flesh on the back of each hand and she let out an animal hiss.

  ‘OK,’ said Mumbles, suddenly sounding much less confident, ‘maybe I wouldn’t.’

  Led by Leah Wilson, the crowd began to edge towards us. We all drew together in the centre of the circle. ‘Any ideas?’

  ‘Don’t go running along the street like a mental patient?’ Ameena suggested. ‘Oh wait, too late.’

  Up on Mr Mumbles’ shoulder, I.C. whimpered. Something bald and wrinkly lumbered a few paces forward and made a grab for the boy’s dangling feet. Mumbles raised a foot and kicked the thing in the groin, then drove a fist into the back of its head as it doubled over in pain. Its nose burst noisily as its face hit the tarmac.

  ‘Ready?’ asked the man in the hat.

  I.C. nodded. ‘Sure am, Uncle Mumbles.’

  Mumbles grabbed hold of I.C.’s ankles. ‘Please – call me Big Nose,’ he said, then he glanced at me and the others. ‘On the ground. Now.’

  We dropped down into the push-up position just as Mumbles began to spin. I.C. squealed as he was flung outwards, Mumbles holding his feet as he turned faster and faster on the spot.

  Frost began to flow from I.C.’s fingers. It swirled like a tornado as Mumbles continued to spin, and I felt it chill my back as it rolled across the crowd.

  The girl with the claws lunged, but immediately froze solid, her face still fixed in that animal snarl. The rest of the front row quickly began to frost over. Those behind, realising what was happening, began pushing into the next row back. Within moments the first fight broke out as something large bumped into something larger.

  The night was split by a chorus of squeals and roars as fists and feet and claws began to fly. The army was turning on itself, even as the cloud of cold spread through its ranks.

  ‘We’ll hold them,’ Mumbles barked. ‘You lot go get him.’

  I looked up to my dad and saw he was no longer leaning casually on the window ledge. He was standing straight, the smile falling from his face.

  His eyes met mine. He gestured down at the front door just as it swung inwards. ‘Come on in, son,’ he said. ‘Welcome home.’

  I jumped up and started to run, dodging through horrific ice sculptures on my way to the door. Ameena caught me by the arm. ‘Take it easy,’ she warned. ‘Be careful. It’s bound to be another trap.’

  Billy stepped up beside me. ‘But don’t worry. We’ve got your back.’

  ‘Thanks,’ I said, then I handed him the baton. ‘Take this.’

  ‘What? Why?’

  ‘You’re better at beating people up than I am.’

  He hesitated. ‘Was that a dig?’

  ‘Yes. No. Maybe.’ I gave a sigh. ‘I don’t even know any more.’

  ‘Just get a bloody move on!’ Mumbles roared, his shout shoving us on into the house.

  I stopped again just inside the front door, overwhelmed by the feeling of being back home, and the knowledge that this might well be the last time I ever would be.

  The living room was trashed – even more so than the last time I’d seen it. The furniture was upturned or broken. The TV was smashed, the wallpaper was torn and the smear of blood the Beast had left across the ceiling had dried to a dark, dirty red.

  More blood pooled on the patch of carpet where we’d found the dead policewoman, who’
d turned out not to be nearly as dead as she looked. That had been what? A day ago? Two? A lifetime of horror had happened since then.

  ‘Come up, come up, don’t be shy,’ called my dad from upstairs.

  I heard Ameena say, ‘This is it,’ but my legs were already carrying me towards the stairs. I walked up slowly, expecting him or something else to appear at the top, but no one did.

  Billy and Ameena stuck close behind me. We stopped at my bedroom door. My heart was racing, pounding like a hammer against the inside of my chest. My knee throbbed in time with my pulse – boom-boom-boom-boom – as I nudged open the door to my room.

  Empty. He wasn’t there.

  I looked at the window, which still stood open. A few weeks ago Mr Mumbles had tapped against it, trying to get inside so he could kill me. How things had changed.

  Further along the landing, I heard a door open. I knew without looking which door it was. My fists clenched and my jaw tensed. My mum’s bedroom. He was in Mum’s bedroom.

  ‘There you are,’ he said when I stepped out of my room. ‘And you’ve brought your little school friend too, I see. How nice.’ He flicked his gaze across at Ameena and I felt her wilt behind me. ‘And as for you,’ he said. ‘Well, we’ll get to you later.’

  I took a step towards him and he held up a hand. ‘Wait!’ he said, and to my annoyance I found myself obeying. ‘It’s three against one. That’s not fair.’

  ‘It’s just me and you,’ I told him. He laughed, a big deep hollow laugh that reminded me how much bigger than me he was.

  ‘No, I don’t think so. Your little friends would jump in at the first chance they got.’ His eyes gleamed. ‘Unless, of course, I could find some way of keeping them occupied.’

  He looked very deliberately at the door across the landing from mine. It was the bedroom my nan used to sleep in before she went to the home. Ameena had slept there too, after my mum invited her to stay.

  The door was closed now. A slide-bolt lock, like the kind you sometimes find on gates and sheds, had been fastened to the door. The bolt was in the closed position, making it impossible to open from the inside.

  ‘Not bad, eh?’ my dad said. ‘I mean, I’m no carpenter, but not too shabby a job, if I do say so myself.’

  ‘Why did you do that?’ I asked. ‘What’s in there?’

  ‘Take a look.’

  ‘No.’

  ‘Aaaah,’ he said, waggling a finger, ‘but I wasn’t talking to you. I was talking to you, Billy.’

  Billy’s acne-scarred brow furrowed. ‘Me?’

  ‘That’s right. You.’ He gestured towards the door. ‘Take a look. I think you’ll find it very interesting.’

  Billy stared at the door.

  ‘Don’t do it,’ I told him. His head twitched and he looked away.

  ‘What, you think I’m an idiot? Of course I won’t.’

  The lopsided grin spread across my dad’s face. He hooked his thumbs into the belt loops of his jeans and leaned against the doorframe. ‘Won’t you? I think you will.’

  ‘Well, you’re wrong.’

  ‘Really? Bet your life?’

  ‘Don’t listen to him, Billy,’ Ameena warned. ‘He’ll mess with your head.’

  ‘Go on. Just a quick look,’ my dad urged. ‘What harm could it do? Open, closed. Quick peek in, no harm done.’

  Billy was focused on the door again, fixated on the lock. He cocked his head and listened to the sound of footsteps on carpet that now came from inside the room.

  ‘What is that?’ he muttered. ‘What’s in there?’

  ‘What do you think it is?’

  Billy scowled. ‘How should I know? What is it?’

  ‘You mean who is it?’

  A terrible quiet fell across the landing.

  ‘No,’ I whispered, staring in horror at my father. ‘No, don’t. You can’t.’

  ‘What? What’s he on about?’ Billy asked. He looked the door up and down and shifted from foot to foot. ‘Who is it?’

  ‘Only one way to find out.’

  ‘Don’t. Don’t do it,’ I said.

  Billy kept staring at the lock, kept bouncing nervously on the balls of his feet. Tears began to trickle down his bloodied cheeks. He knew. He knew as well as I did who was beyond that door.

  ‘Come on, Billy. She’s just dying to see you.’

  ‘Don’t listen to him,’ Ameena said, but Billy was already grasping for the lock.

  ‘Stop,’ I said, grabbing for him. ‘Don’t open it. It’s too late.’

  The lock fell to the floor the moment he touched it. My dad laughed again. ‘Well, looks like I didn’t do so great a job after all.’

  ‘Billy, don’t!’ I caught his sleeve, but he yanked it away and pushed the handle down.

  And there she was, the little girl in the pink pyjamas. The little girl who Billy had abandoned to the screechers when they had first arrived. Billy’s baby sister, Lily.

  Only it wasn’t. Not really. She was merely what remained of Lily.

  She had been human, of course, but now she wasn’t. Her body was twisted and bent, her knuckles pressed against the floor. Spiky shards of bone stuck out from the knotted muscles across her back and through the few scraps of the pyjamas that still remained.

  Her mouth was a ragged cavern of teeth, with strands of saliva hanging like ropes from her wide jaws. Both eyes were a glossy black. I saw Billy reflected in them as he sank to his knees in the doorway and held his arms wide.

  ‘Oh, Lil,’ he whimpered. ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘Billy, no!’

  I shouldered him out of the way and grabbed for the door handle. Lily lunged, but I hauled the door closed in time to stop her getting free.

  ‘No, no, no!’ Billy sobbed. ‘Let me see her. Let her out.’

  Ameena spun him round and drove a right hook across his jaw. Billy dropped like a sack of bricks. I looked down at him, lying unconscious on the floor.

  ‘Good call,’ I said.

  Ameena shrugged. ‘Been looking for an excuse if I’m honest.’

  ‘Oh, come on,’ my dad said. ‘You spoil all my fun.’

  ‘Fun’s over,’ I said.

  I tried to get to him, tried to reach him, but he raised his hand and I realised he was holding a gun. It was a semi-automatic pistol, if every action movie I’d ever seen was to be believed. I stopped when he levelled the weapon at my head.

  ‘This is the gun that killed your mother. And you’re right, it is all my fault,’ he said. ‘Thank you for recognising all the hard work I’ve put in. It makes it all worthwhile. Now stay where you are.’ He glanced at Ameena. ‘And as for you… Excellent work, my dear. You’ve done well, bringing him to me.’

  I turned to her, my heart rising up into my throat. ‘No,’ I whispered as her eyes turned to meet mine. ‘Please no. Not again.’

  Ameena looked from me to my dad and back again.

  ‘No,’ I said, my voice desperate, pleading, ‘but... no. It’s not true. Tell me you didn’t.’

  ‘Too trusting, that’s your problem,’ said my dad. ‘Far too trusting.’

  ‘He’s lying,’ Ameena said. ‘You’re lying. I wasn’t helping you. I ran away! Kyle, you’ve got to believe me, I wasn’t helping him.’

  ‘Well, this is awkward,’ my dad said.

  I ignored him, kept fixing on Ameena. ‘Why?’

  ‘He’s lying! I wasn’t helping him.’

  ‘Oh, but you were, Ameena,’ he said. ‘Although… OK. So maybe you didn’t know it.’

  We both turned to face him. ‘What?’

  ‘I knew you’d go running to him, even after I told you not to. I knew you’d betray me. I knew you’d go running off to his little dream hospital and show him the truth.’

  He looked at me. ‘Don’t you see? I wanted you awake. I wanted you aware. I wanted you to come here and face me.’

  A huge sense of relief washed over me. Ameena hadn’t betrayed me again. She had chosen me over him.

  But still, the fi
nal bricks of my world were crumbling around me. Ameena had turned against him. She’d tried to get me to run, but instead I had done exactly as he wanted me to do. ‘But... why? Why did you want me here?’

  ‘For this, of course! For the final showdown!’ he said, then he cackled with glee. ‘Oh, sure, I could’ve just left you lying in your make-believe happy hospital. That would still have been a victory, but where’s the drama? Hmm? Where’s the sense of closure to it all?’

  He ran a hand through his hair and looked me up and down. ‘This – all this – has been years in the planning, kiddo. Over a decade of figuring out the fine detail of how best to make you suffer. Like you made me suffer.’

  ‘I didn’t,’ I said weakly.

  ‘You were born. That was enough.’ His eyes glazed over for a moment as he recalled some distant memory. ‘She believed in me, your mother. Really believed. The Bible touched on it, you know? “Faith can move mountains.” It’s like all the self-help books say – if you believe in something enough, it’ll happen. Your mother believed, and I happened.’

  He held his arms to the side, showing himself off. I thought about grabbing for the gun, but he moved it back to me before I could make the decision.

  ‘I know that,’ I said. ‘You told me. She needed you so much you somehow became real, then I came along and she stopped needing you, so you faded away.’

  ‘Was torn away,’ he seethed. ‘Tossed into the Darkest Corners with the rest of them. Left to rot.’

  ‘God. Get over it.’

  ‘Oh, I will. Just as soon as all the loose ends are tied up. It’s nearly over, son,’ he said, and there was almost kindness in his voice. ‘Your friends out there, they’ll soon be dead. I’ll be honest, I did not foresee Mr Mumbles switching loyalties like that. I send him to kill you and he becomes your guardian angel. Who’d have thought it?’ He smiled. ‘Still, it all worked out in the end.’

  I looked down at the gun. It was fixed on me. Ameena was on the balls of her feet, ready to move, but I caught her sleeve and held her in place.

  ‘You see, I’ve systematically set about destroying you, son. I’ve killed the people you care about, I’ve terrorised you, I’ve made you a wanted criminal sleeping on the streets and rummaging in bins just to survive.’

 

‹ Prev