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Forgotten Souls

Page 9

by Rooster Smith


  A horrified Tiffany yelled, “Stop it now – the alarms will go off!”

  She made a grab for the fiendish nipper, but he dodged her attempt and ran to the main display containing the death mask she had examined before. He gave an evil laugh as he gripped the display case and leered at Tiffany. Her eyes widened in anticipation of what would happen next.

  “Get off the glass!” she said with a raised voice, “Enough now – just go away!”

  But the Entertainer’s evil offspring would not be stopped. He shook the case unnaturally fast and violently, which dislodged the mask from its stand. An alarm immediately rang out through the entire museum as the boy pushed the case to the floor, shattering it into hundreds of razor-sharp pieces. Workers and security guards could be heard shouting at the visitors to leave the building and gather in the car park, and panic surrounded the museum.

  “Now look at what you’ve done!” Tiffany yelled at the child. “This is your fault!”

  The boy just smiled at her, and then he faded away, leaving a shocked Tiffany totally alone in the room.

  She looked at the damage left behind and muttered to herself, “I’m not getting blamed for all of this.”

  She turned to leave and ran straight into the arms of a security guard. There was an awkward pause before the guard said, “Go – get out of the museum and wait in the car park.”

  Tiffany nodded as the guard continued, “You’ll be searched outside, but hurry as the security doors will come down.”

  Tiffany ran down a long passageway, and as she didn’t really know the museum she was frantically looking for the exit signs. She stopped and looked around and saw the evil young boy standing at the end of a corridor. She pointed at him and yelled, “You – wait there!” But he just smiled at her and ran around the corner.

  Tiffany ran after him, and as she did, a heavy, thick glass security door came sliding down from the ceiling, sealing off the corridor behind her. She ran and turned the corner to find herself in another corridor with the devilish brat at the far end. The boy laughed at her, and as before ran off around the corner at the end of the passageway.

  “You ain’t getting away!” she shouted at him, and she sprinted off to catch him. Again, a thick, heavy glass security door came sliding down from the ceiling behind her, sealing the passageway.

  As Tiffany was sprinting as fast as she could, she quickly reached the end of the corridor, and as she turned the corner she saw that the boy had fallen and hurt his ankle. He was about halfway down the passageway in a heap on the floor, clutching his foot in pain. It was twisted around, facing the opposite direction. It was a horrible sight and the foot was obviously badly broken, but at least she knew there was now no escape for the brat.

  “Now I’ve got you.”

  She slowly walked towards him, but then the brat stood up. This made Tiffany stop in her tracks; how could he stand with a broken and twisted foot? The youngster smiled at her and grabbed his injured foot. He then did something that made Tiffany sick in her own mouth: he started to twist it back into its correct position and the awful cracking and grinding of bone was heard as he put his foot back into its proper position. A piece of sharp bone suddenly burst out through his skin, which made Tiffany heave and she was nearly sick on the spot. The demonic child shrugged his shoulders and violently pushed the protruding bone back into his ankle. He then shook his mended leg, which now moved perfectly, and stood correctly on both feet glaring at Tiffany.

  This was the moment that Tiffany realised that the boy was unnatural, and that she was in danger. She was rigid with fright, but she knew that she had to find the strength from somewhere to make her escape.

  With a deep breath, she was ready to run, but it was too late. Before she could move, a heavy glass security door slammed down from the ceiling, slicing through her body from the top of her head to the very soles of her feet.

  For a sickening moment she was stuck to the glass door with the front of her body on one side and the back on the other. The door had cut her in half vertically, slicing through every organ, piece of flesh, sinew and bone in its path. Even though she had died instantly, her eyes were open in horror, still staring at the diabolical boy, who still had an evil grin on his pale face.

  The devilish child walked towards Tiffany, who was still pinned to both sides of the glass by her own body parts and sticky goo. Her blood began to seep out and run down the glass, which weakened the bond and the back half of her body peeled away from the glass like old wallpaper and fell to the ground in a horrid, folded heap of mess. The bond sticking her front half to the barrier began to lose its integrity and slowly, with an ear-piercing screech, slid down to the floor with knees bending, leaving a sickly trail of organs and blood smeared down the glass.

  The horrid boy walked over to the bloody mess and placed the King of Clubs playing card on Tiffany’s face, which was looking upwards from the top of the folded pile with her cold, dead eyes still staring out into nothing.

  He then stood back and faded away, leaving the carnage behind to be found by someone else.

  The Thirteenth

  Later on that day the news of Tiffany’s horrible demise had reached Steve and Josh at the police station. They were too late to save her, but they knew that there would only be one more death to make up the thirteen.

  “It’s getting a bit late now,” a defeated Steve muttered to Josh. “There’s not a lot more we can do today unless our investigation comes up with something else but this is a weird one and The Entertainer or whoever it is always seems one step ahead of us.”

  Josh nodded in agreement. “All right, I’ll see you tomorrow.”

  He left the station and bumped into Maggie. He sighed and shook his tired head. “Come on, Mags, let’s go for a walk.”

  Maggie knew the investigation wasn’t going too well and could see that Josh was a bit down so she took him by the hand. “OK, let’s go along the beach.”

  It was late in the evening and turning a bit darker, and the two of them slowly walked hand in hand along the beach. They were talking and trying to figure out why the Entertainer had promised an odd number of deaths, as if the victims were the potential parents of the ghost children, surely there should be two deaths for each couple?

  Then Maggie remembered her dream about Midway and the Entertainer and said, “It all started when the elder’s daughter was killed by the Entertainer’s skipping device.”

  Josh agreed. “Yes, but we still don’t know exactly what it all means.”

  They reached a trail through the sand dunes which led to the chalet park where Maggie lived. They hugged and she started to walk alone down the trail. Looking back, she said, “See you tomorrow, Josh. Things may be clearer in the morning.”

  Josh waved her goodbye and walked back along the beach to go home, soothed by the gentle sounds of the waves flowing onto the sand and the soft breeze brushing his face.

  ***

  Maggie soon got home to her chalet and she went straight into the bedroom, fell down onto the bed and was soon in a deep sleep. Once again, she began to dream about Midway, and again she found herself witnessing the lynch mob massing, ready to kill Bartholomew Smith and his family.

  “Mr Hannah, what shall we do first?” one of the men asked his leader.

  The elder thought for a second and then loudly announced, “We’ll burn the house first. Burn it all!”

  The mob shouted and cheered as they lit torches from a near-by fire and walked towards the home of the Entertainer and his family.

  Maggie felt that she was again the twelve-year-old girl who lived in the village, and she could actually feel the violence and hatred of the mob. Once again the house was torched, killing the Entertainer’s family. Then came the Entertainer’s screams from his circus tent and just like before, the mob went to the marquee and burnt it to the ground, killing the vengeful Entertainer.
r />   The crowd cheered and congratulated the elder for leading the mob and shouts of “Well done, Mr Hannah well done.” were heard by all involved.

  Maggie then suddenly awoke and sat bolt upright on her bed. “Elder Hannah,” she whispered. “Why does that name trouble me?”

  She got up and went into the kitchen to make herself a late-night coffee, still puzzled and affected by her dream. Still thinking about the importance of the name, she kept saying to herself, “Hannah, Hannah – where have I heard that name before?”

  The kettle boiled and she picked it up to pour the hot water into her mug, but she didn’t pour it out. Maggie slammed the kettle back down.

  “Oh no, Hannah” She had just remembered where she saw the name before; it was on a family coat of arms in Josh’s house.

  She picked up her phone and called him, but there was no answer so she left a message.

  “It’s Maggie, the name Hannah is important – it was elder Hannah who led the lynch mob and I saw the same name on the coat of arms in your house. I’m on my way to find you now; please phone me when you get this message.”

  She picked up her coat and ran out of the chalet as fast as she could; she knew that she was on to something and that Josh may be in danger. She got into her car and drove away to find her friend.

  Maggie drove out of the chalet park gates and down to the end of the short road leading to the main seafront road. She turned right and headed into the town, driving as fast but as safely as she could with her head spinning with thoughts of Josh or his family being in danger. Suddenly a feeling of dread fell over her and she glanced out of her side window and was terrified at what she saw.

  Standing in a small field at the side of the road was a poor-looking, dishevelled young girl with deathly pale grey skin. The girl was about eleven years old and had shoulder-length dirty blonde hair, and her cold, dead eyes just looked at Maggie with a fixed, evil stare. She raised a bony finger and pointed at Maggie as she sped past. Maggie watched the girl as she passed and lost her concentration for a split second, but that was all that was needed for the Entertainer to appear in the road ahead.

  When Maggie looked forward again, she saw Bartholomew Smith leaning on his cane in the road in front of her. She slammed down hard on the brakes, but she didn’t have time to stop and swerved violently to the left and smashed into a wall.

  The front of her car was a crumpled mess and Maggie had blood running down her face from the impact with the steering wheel, but she was alive. She regained a degree of composure and looked out of the window to see Bartholomew Smith peering straight at her with an evil grin on his face.

  “I have been watching you, Maggie,” he said. “You are close to understanding my reasons and actions, but not close enough.”

  Maggie was scared, but she summoned the strength to speak. “I know one thing,” she replied with a cough. “We’re on to you, and you will fail.”

  This made the Entertainer angry, and he slammed his cane down onto the roof of the car, which made Maggie jump with fright.

  “I never fail!” he bellowed, getting closer to Maggie’s bloodied face. “I always complete what I set out to do perfectly.”

  Maggie laughed. “You’ve made a mistake this time, though; you can’t even add up properly.”

  Bartholomew was puzzled and upset by this, so quizzed Maggie, “What do you mean?”

  “Thirteen!” Maggie shouted in his face. “There are to be thirteen deaths. If you are killing couples, there would be an even number.”

  Bartholomew stood back a little. “Ah, thirteen,” he cackled. “You’re wrong, my dear; thirteen is the correct number. Chris Andrews died about five years ago, so I can’t kill him as death has already taken him, but I can still kill his ex-girlfriend Rosie, can’t I?”

  Maggie then realised who the last victim would be: it was Rosie, Josh’s wife.

  The Entertainer raised his cane high into the air and was just about to bring it down onto a weakened and vulnerable Maggie when a shout was heard a short distance away. It was a man who had seen Maggie’s car crash into the wall, and he was running to help her.

  Bartholomew Smith slowly lowered his cane. “You’re lucky this time,” the disappointed Entertainer mumbled, “but I’ll be back for you.”

  He then doffed his top hat at Maggie and faded away just as she fainted.

  ***

  Josh was in a cafe in one of the arcades, finishing off a hot chocolate, when the waitress walked over to him.

  “We’re closing now, Josh,” she said, sensing he had a lot on his mind. “Go home.”

  Josh looked up at her and smiled. “OK, see you again.”

  He left the arcade and headed to his car, taking his phone from his pocket as he walked. He turned it back on and put it to his ear. His jaw dropped as he heard Maggie’s message about the name Hannah, and he jogged to his car, hoping to go to Maggie’s chalet. As he got nearer he saw Steve leaning on the bonnet, and he looked a bit troubled.

  “Josh, where have you been? I’ve been phoning you all night but your phone’s been off.”

  “I just needed some quiet time, Steve,” Josh replied. “What do you want?”

  Steve sighed. “There’s been an accident. Maggie’s hurt and the doc’s got her at the surgery as she needed treatment straight away. An ambulance has already been called and should get here soon.”

  “My God, what happened?” a worried Josh asked. “How is she?”

  Steve made a calming gesture with his hands. “Don’t worry, she should be fine; she had a crash while driving to find you and she seemed in a panic – something about the name Hannah.”

  Josh gave Steve a troubled look and uttered, “Hannah was Rosie’s maiden name and I don’t know where she is. She’s not been answering her phone all day and I think she may be the next death on our hands.”

  “OK, I’ll get my men to look for her and you go to Maggie; she may be able to help,” Steve suggested. Josh agreed and drove to the surgery to see Maggie.

  ***

  He arrived at the doctor’s surgery and it looked a bit spooky in the darkness of the night, as some of the lights were on but it was well past closing time. He got out of his car and was greeted by Dr Freestone.

  “Ah, Josh, we’ve been expecting you,” he said as they shook hands. “She’s a bit sore but she’ll be all right with a bit of rest.”

  “Thanks, Doc, and thanks for opening the surgery to treat her,” a relieved Josh replied.

  “Not a problem, Josh. I’ve just got to go home to get something, though; I’ll be gone about ten minutes. Just go in.”

  The doctor left and Josh went into the surgery and entered the treatment room where he saw Maggie on the bed with a bandage around her head.

  She opened her eyes, and in a panic said, “Josh, quick – what does the name Hannah mean to you?”

  Josh sat down on a chair beside the bed. “Hannah was Rosie’s maiden name. Is she in danger?” he said while trying to phone Rosie yet again.

  Maggie sat up, and with a worried look on her face replied, “I’m not sure; she may be. Did she ever go out with a Chris Andrews?”

  Josh became more nervous and concerned for his wife as he held his mobile to his ear calling Rosie but she still failed to answer her phone. “Yes, they went out together years ago when she was about twenty. It was Chris who actually introduced Rosie to me, but he died about five years ago. Why?”

  “Oh, Josh, I’m so sorry,” Maggie said with a slight tremble in her voice, “That confirms that Rosie will be the Entertainer’s last victim.”

  Suddenly it dawned on Josh, and he shuddered. “That’s why there are an odd number of deaths. I’ve got to find Rosie”

  Maggie nodded. “I bet Rosie’s missing, isn’t she?”

  Josh stood up and looked out of the window into the darkness outside. After a f
ew seconds he turned and looked at Maggie. “I don’t know where she is; she’s not answered her phone all day and Steve and the police are already looking for her.”

  “Go and see Bill Grimes; he’s your last hope,” suggested a very worried Maggie. “He might have some ideas.”

  Josh nodded, “Good call, Maggie.” He kissed her on the cheek. “I’ll go now; you just rest and get stronger and I’ll see you in the morning.”

  Josh ran out of the door as Maggie shouted, “Good luck – see you tomorrow!”

  ***

  Josh raced down the road and up the dirt path to the house of old Mr Grimes and jumped out of his car. He ran to the door and banged loudly on it.

  “Mr Grimes” His shouts rang out in the night. “Mr Grimes, it’s urgent!”

  The front door flew open and Mr Grimes stood there with a shotgun raised and pointed at Josh. The hermit then recognised him and lowered his gun.

  “Josh, what’s wrong?”

  Josh struggled for breath as he said, “Maggie’s been hurt and my wife is in danger.”

  Mr Grimes ushered Josh inside and they stood in the hallway.

  “As you already know my name is Bill, Mr Grimes’ seems too formal my friend. How can I help?”

  Josh was a little calmer now, and appealed to Bill. “My wife Rosie is missing, I think the Entertainer might have her and I need ideas as to where she may be.”

  Bill nodded. “After you left the other day, I did some research of my own. I think the Entertainer needs a certain physical connection with our time to finish his work, and the only thing I can think of is the old abandoned house further up the coast on the very edge of the clifftop. It used to belong to his family.”

  Josh’s eyes widened “Do you mean Waterloo Manor, that old run-down mansion that’s nearly falling into the sea?”

  Mr Grimes gave a broad smile. “That’s exactly where I mean, and if you hurry you just might be in time.”

  Without any delay, Josh thanked Bill and rushed out of the house. He got into his car and drove to Waterloo Manor in the hope of saving his beloved Rosie.

 

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