by Jody Medland
‘Uh-oh!’
‘Does Malcolm ever talk to you about… you know… him?’ Amanda furthered.
‘Who?’ asked Georgina.
‘You know who,’ stated Amanda, confidently.
‘I think she knows,’ Gordon observed. ‘Yah, I definitely do.’
‘She doesn’t know,’ argued Georgina. ‘She can’t!’
‘Yah! I definitely think she knows,’ he countered. ‘Uh-huh!’
‘What do you know about him?’ Amanda ventured.
Georgina tried her best to act aloof, to which Amanda responded by leaning in and talking under her breath, creating the illusion they were all part of a big secret.
‘Elijah,’ she revealed.
Georgina was stunned to hear her say the name, forcing her into a thoughtful silence.
‘I want to help you, but I need you to talk to me,’ Amanda admitted.
‘He’s always there,’ began Georgina. ‘Watching…’
‘Yah!’ agreed Gordon.
‘He wants to help, too… but he’s scared,’ continued Georgina.
‘We’re all scared,’ added Gordon.
‘What’s Elijah scared of?’ asked Amanda.
Georgina’s pigmented eyes looked directly into Amanda’s with a level of intensity that gave her chills.
‘Open your eyes, Amanda!’ said Georgina, gruffly. ‘He’s afraid of them!’
‘Yah! We’re all afraid of them,’ supported Gordon.
Suddenly, a loud smashing noise came from the house, as though a thousand shards of glass were dancing on the ground. It was followed by the most harrowing of screams.
Amanda rushed inside and made her way to the first floor landing, where Christian blocked Margaret’s path to Reuben and Georgina’s bedroom. From next door, Ellie could be heard screaming manically, although her cries were being largely ignored.
‘What’s going on?’ asked Amanda, completely perplexed.
‘What are you doing here?’ snapped Christian, his eyes studying the empty staircase behind her. ‘Where are the children?’
Amanda was drawn to the soft movement coming from the bedroom over Christian’s shoulder. She tried to peek around him through the small crack of the door, to which he responded by pulling it shut.
‘Is Reuben okay?’ asked Amanda, having completely ignored his question.
Christian grabbed her shoulders, tenderly but firmly.
‘Listen to me,’ he began, gently shaking the distraction from out of her. ‘Listen! You have to go and protect the children. Now! Bring them into the house and stay together. If they’re outside, they’re not safe!’ he said, gravely.
Finally, she noted the seriousness of the situation.
‘What’s happening?’ she whimpered.
‘Just go!’ he shouted. ‘And you Mum. Go with her. Now!’
The combination of intrigue, fear and dread that both Margaret and Amanda felt was overpowered by the urgency with which Christian spoke. They knew that, above anything else, they must act… and fast. Together, they turned and ran down the staircase. Once out of sight, the worry that Christian portrayed on his face disappeared and calmly, he turned around and opened the door to Reuben and Georgina’s room. Shattered glass lay on the floor beneath the window. On the walls, the unmistakable claret of blood had splattered in unquantifiable amounts. Walter cradled Karen in his arms, offering strength to the woman who, at that moment, having buckled on her faltering knees, seemed to have none. Beneath Karen, small blotches of blood were drizzled across the floor like a Jackson Pollock painting, slowly soaking into the wood. The blood did not belong to her. Walter rocked with her gently, like a parent trying to comfort an unhappy child, although she did not seem particularly upset. In fact, she didn’t really appear to harbour any overwhelming emotions. She was simply vacant. Walter moved his hands to hold his wife’s head, drawing her gaze to meet his.
‘Tell me it was him,’ he said, speaking more in hope than expectation.
‘Of course it was,’ she said, calmly. ‘Who else would it be?’
Walter looked to Christian, the two men exchanging uncertain glances before Christian surveyed the room.
‘I’ll have Arthur clean this up,’ were the words that eventually left his mouth.
*
Downstairs, the nervous energy possessed by Margaret and Amanda had made its way into the children, who they had gathered in the kitchen. All doors and windows had been bolted shut and, collectively, the residents sat on tenterhooks.
‘Do you have any idea what happened?’ Amanda asked of Margaret, under her breath.
Margaret’s unrest was clear and fell so deep that she was unable to speak. She simply shook her head and waited in silence.
‘Who’s Elijah?’ Amanda prodded.
Margaret looked worriedly towards the children.
‘We don’t have time to be sensitive!’ Amanda exerted. ‘If you want me to help, I need to know.’
Margaret took a moment to consider the request but just as she seemed ready to speak, Christian entered the room surrounded by an aura of darkness.
‘I have some terrible news,’ he began.
Amanda’s heart skipped a beat. It was as though she were in the midst of an accident that she could see unfolding before her, like a car crash in slow-motion that she was powerless to prevent.
‘Reuben died in his sleep,’ he said.
The words Christian had uttered were so great in magnitude and so completely lacking in sense that the reality simply didn’t register. Amanda’s silence was shared by all else in the room. Margaret turned away, her hands covering her mouth as she cried silent tears.
Georgina lowered her head, crestfallen.
Although Malcolm remained physically unaffected, Amanda felt certain she could see sadness in his eyes.
Gordon developed a deep frown as he tried to process the information.
‘No more Reuben?’ he asked, in a heartbreakingly innocent way.
‘No more Reuben,’ replied Christian, sensitively.
Finally, as Amanda absorbed the sorrow that surrounded her, something began to happen. She felt tingles creep through her body as though her blood were transforming into small metal pins.
No more Reuben? But how can that be? I sat and played cards with him only hours ago!
Georgina sobbed, prompting Margaret to approach, rubbing her shoulder and caressing her hair in the same way she always did when the girl needed to be comforted, but this time, it didn’t work. It wasn’t long before Margaret was bent double over the girl, their bodies shuddering in unison as they shared tears over the terrible news. This was no nightmare from which Amanda would awake but a cold, hard reality that had paralysed her in a way she had never known before.
‘H-how?’ was all Amanda could force from her dry mouth.
‘He was having a nap in his room and it appears he swallowed his tongue,’ replied Christian, calmly.
‘I heard something smash…?’ Amanda added.
‘Yes. Karen went in to check on him and when she saw his body, she was so upset, she lashed out,’ he claimed.
‘But, he… it doesn’t…’
Amanda’s words deserted her. The grief finally kicked in as a mixture of disappointment and sadness blurred her mind and she too began to cry.
‘I’ll make some calls,’ Christian informed them, dutifully. ‘We’ll hold a service as soon as possible.’
Within the bleakness, Amanda found a moment of clarity. Her face revealed as much as she looked towards the ground floor hallway. Without saying a word, she walked away from everyone. Her actions appeared peculiar to Margaret, who could tell that the young woman was carrying a strange energy.
‘Amanda?’ asked Margaret, weakly.
She didn’t respond. Instead, she took slow, calculated steps towards the corridor, walking past the staircase as she journeyed down the hall. Slowly, but noticeably, her legs gathered momentum. Christian followed her, seeming bewildered as he observed her acti
ons. Margaret stepped out into the hallway, also.
‘Where are you going?’ asked Georgina, panicked.
‘It’s alright, my lovely,’ Margaret claimed in as reassuring a voice as she could find. ‘You stay here.’
‘Uh-oh!’ added Gordon, making clear his obvious worry.
Amanda approached the front door, unlocking the latch.
‘I wouldn’t do that,’ warned Christian, but to little effect.
Margaret waddled towards Amanda, grabbing her by the arm.
‘What are you doing, my love?’ she asked, softly and under her breath. ‘I told you. You can’t leave!’
Amanda looked towards Margaret. Her eyes were blank. Her expressions were disjointed. Margaret no longer recognised the person standing before her.
‘Let it try and stop me,’ she gnarled.
During the many years Margaret had occupied the home, she had seen it discourage many a person’s purity, eating away at the goodness of their soul like a virus hell-bent on destruction. Sadly, it appeared Amanda may be no different as she threatened to snap under the strain that consumed her. Amanda’s mental state concerned Margaret greatly, so much so that she stepped away due to her own illogical fear that insanity was infectious. Amanda twisted the handle and the door creaked as she pulled it open. She looked outside and puffed out her chest as she took strides towards the car park and then beyond.
She followed the dirt track down the large grass hill, past the tall tree that hung over the pond and towards the heavy gate. As always, the gate was locked and she knew she would not be able to get through, but the purpose of the exercise was not to leave. It was to see if Reuben’s death could feasibly be accredited to a swallowed tongue or if, as she suspected, there was something far more sinister at play.
The gate drew closer and, step-by-step a familiar feeling returned. A nearby rustle in the hedges confirmed it. She was being watched, closely, by something that edged ever closer to her. She knew this with utter conviction because she could feel it, but she did not give in to her impertinent mind. Her focus was on the gate and she intended to reach it without breaking her stride – easier said than done when the rolling of a menacing growl found its way to her ears. Amanda’s determination was broken and she stopped dead in her tracks. The growl was momentous, like the sound of a heavy rock being forced out of position, paving the way for an explorer to enter the bowels of some sacred tomb that had lain dormant for many generations. It was frightening. It was profound. It was also, somehow, enthralling, to envisage what type of ungodly creature would make such a sound.
Amanda was no longer in control of her movement. So compelled were her senses that she could do nothing other than turn towards the bush where the noise had come from. She could see nothing, but the presence was awesome. Hidden amongst the wildlife and the shrubbery, she sensed that something was wound up like a mighty spring ready to unleash itself towards her. If it did, she would not stand a chance of survival. Something within her gut made that clear. She was too afraid to look away but her heightened senses told her Margaret was willing her back towards the house.
Grrrrrr… grew the sound from the point at which her eyes were fixed, but louder; more agitated; ready to pounce. The bush began to move and Amanda closed her eyes, not through fear but in preparation of the unfathomable force with which she was about to be hit.
From the house, a shotgun was cocked and a bang! thundered through the air as a bullet flew into the hedges. No longer did Amanda feel the creature was about to leap. Another shot led the target to scupper away, creating a tremor of green movement as it retreated with urgency.
‘Come on! Hurry!’ yelled Margaret, crying out to her desperately.
Amanda glanced up at the house. Margaret stood bravely at the top of the hill with an outstretched hand and eyes that were wide with worry.
‘Run!’ she screamed.
Although Amanda was desperate to see what had come so close to ripping her to shreds and sending her into the next world, her legs instinctively sprang back to life.
As clearly as Amanda had heard the animal’s footsteps retreat, however, she heard them make a daring return as Christian hurriedly reloaded his gun. She glanced back at the grass mound behind which the beast still eluded sight, expecting it to burst through into the garden she occupied at any moment.
Bang!
Bang!
The footsteps once again galloped away, indicating it had escaped the path of gunfire once more. Amanda reached out to feel Margaret’s fleshy palm and together they made their way towards the front doorway, where Walter had appeared, standing alert and ready to close the door once they had entered. Finally, Amanda heard the beast leap through the hedges and land on the ground close behind her. She would have certainly looked over her shoulder if Christian, in his hurry, had not dropped the bullets he was trying to funnel into the barrel of his gun. As he scrambled around manically trying to recover, Amanda knew they may not make it back inside. Therefore, her entire focus had to be on reaching that door. She ran as hard as she could, pulling Margaret – who had unwittingly become a hindrance – along with her. Heavy breaths neared as the predator ate up the ground between them. The situation had become so tight that even Christian stopped fishing for the elusive ammunition and joined them in their race to get back to the house. Amanda felt the hot air of something snapping at her ankles. She believed that on the next attempt, the jaws of the alien being were going to rip her Achilles heel from her leg like a warm knife running through butter. At the last possible moment, Amanda closed her eyes, launched herself and Margaret forwards and hoped they had done enough to escape. As they landed on the hard floor of the downstairs hallway, Walter swung the door quickly behind them. Rather than slam shut, it stumbled against the most solid of objects. Christian immediately assisted in the struggle as, together, they pushed with all of their might.
B-m…
Thud…
Scratch…
Scratch…
Click!
Finally, the door was forced to a close. The monster outside continued to claw at it for several moments afterwards before an abrupt silence surrounded them. It was suddenly so calm it was as though there had been no incident at all. Amanda fought hard for breath, as did everybody else involved in the chase. The fact they were all still alive felt like something of a miracle and as the adrenalin kicked in, Amanda realised the story she had been pursuing had just reached a whole new level.
The Exmoor beast was real.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
Better the Devil You Know
Monday 14th February, 1972
It seemed inhumane to lock the children back in their rooms at a time of such disarray and panic, particularly Georgina, who had been Reuben’s roommate for a number of years. Therefore, the elders allowed Gordon and Georgina to play games at the dining room table where Malcolm sat idly beside them. That way, they were together and within sight should the beast make a return. Ellie and David were considered to be safe due to their highly secure proximity within the house and so were, as usual, left to their own devices.
In the living room, the atmosphere was badly strained. Amanda sat in numb silence as Karen pushed for a reaction.
‘I told you she couldn’t be trusted!’ Karen reminded everyone. ‘She’s reckless and her actions put us all in danger!’
‘I didn’t… I-I didn’t know…’ Amanda mumbled, softly, barely able to muster the energy to defend herself.
‘I did tell you to keep the children safe,’ Christian admitted, sounding sympathetic but disappointed. ‘What exactly were you trying to achieve out there?’
‘She was irresponsible. As usual!’ goaded Karen.
‘Go easy on her,’ pleaded Margaret, looking hopelessly uneasy.
‘We have been,’ insisted Karen. ‘That’s precisely the problem!’
‘What was that thing?’ asked Amanda, distantly.
The room fell silent.
Amanda shuddered as she reliv
ed how close she had come to a certain and grotesquely violent death.
‘I don’t know what it is,’ Christian finally answered. ‘But it roams the moors and has done so for many years. It seems to pay special attention to us… and our children.’
‘I… can’t believe it’s actually real,’ gasped Amanda, stopping with a sharp breath. ‘It’s real. It’s real…’ she said, her voice trailing off as a look of realisation washed over her face. ‘And Reuben?’ she asked, her mind piecing things together like a dark, distorted jigsaw puzzle as she processed the wave of information flashing through her mind.
Suddenly, Karen slinked away, her eyes looking any which way but Amanda’s direction.
‘Yes,’ admitted Christian, with a delicate whisper.
‘So what was all that nonsense about him swallowing his tongue?’ she snapped, angrily. ‘Lies!’
‘I was trying to spare you the details,’ he informed her.
‘These are not the kind of details you can choose to omit!’ she said, suddenly raising her voice. ‘You don’t have the right!’
‘Don’t come here and tell us what we can and cannot do!’ argued Karen. ‘We have a certain way of living, of working, of doing things so that there can be unity on our land and our methods were chosen for a reason,’ she scorned.
‘Your methods?’ repeated Amanda in pure disgust. ‘A young boy was killed because of your incompetence. I could have been killed! And how many others in that graveyard are there because of this… thing?’ asked Amanda.
Amanda looked to Margaret, whose reaction suggested the beast was responsible for a great many deaths.
‘When are you going to do something about it?’ asked Amanda, exhausted and close to tears.
‘Might I add…’ began Walter, as calm and collected as ever. ‘That we have told people about this. We’ve told them repeatedly, but they don’t want to listen,’ he claimed. ‘You sit out there and read the papers with me. You see the scepticism involved at the mention of there being an Exmoor beast.’
For a moment, Amanda wondered if this was what sparked Walter’s infatuation with the news. Was he reading updates on the situation as he, like everybody else in the home, had developed an obsession with it? Either way, the scrutiny with which Walter analysed words meant that the few he actually spoke were invariably true. Suddenly, Amanda recalled her own dismissive response towards the radio broadcast that aired on the day of her arrival. Somewhat uncomfortably, she questioned whether anybody would even believe her.