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Something Strange in the Cellar

Page 5

by George Chedzoy


  Chapter 5: TERROR IN THE NIGHT

  A wailing began, seemingly out of nowhere, as if it rose from the ground itself. It was a dreadful sound, almost half human, half animal. Then bright, straw-coloured orbs of light appeared in the night sky, dancing through the air and drifting up towards Mrs Owen’s farmhouse.

  On the surrounding hillside, huge white blobs appeared. They approached Mrs Owen’s house. Slowly, her gate creaked open and the blobs trooped into the garden – a dozen floating apparitions with what looked like holes for the eyes and mouth. Each had a pair of wing-like arms.

  They must be the ghosts of which Mrs Owen had spoken! They pranced around in a circle amid flashes of red, green, blue, purple, yellow and orange light. The orbs floated steadily higher and higher into the sky. The wailing began again, apparently from below ground. Then came a blood-curdling scream and words shouted but inaudible. Might that have been Mrs Owen, cowering under her bed sheets?

  Jack and Lou gripped each other’s arms. In the end they could stand no more. They put their arms round each other and curled in a ball, their eyes screwed tightly shut. Jack pushed himself as deep into the undergrowth as he could. He wished the ground would swallow him up. He felt certain the ghosts would pounce on them at any minute. He clung to Lou as if he feared she would be snatched from him.

  They remained, like two petrified hedgehog balls for several minutes until it occurred to Lou that she could hear no more wailing. She uncurled herself and looked around. There was no sound and nothing to see, save for the still-bright moon high in the sky. The colourful lights and orbs had gone, so too had the ghostly white blobs.

  ‘Jack, Jack, it’s ok. Everything is back to normal,’ whispered Lou.

  Jack remained tightly curled up, his whole body trembling. Lou felt a surge of remorse at persuading him to accompany her. Her own fear had gone and was replaced by concern for his welfare. ‘Come on,’ she said, gently. ‘It’s ok now, let’s get out of here and cycle back to Abersoch. I’ll make us a nice brew.’

  Jack slowly sat himself up and Lou gave him a hug before helping him to his feet.

  ‘Let’s go then,’ he whispered.

  The pair said no more as they slunk quietly through the garden gate and along the path, seeking to keep to the shadows wherever possible. Lou held Jack’s arm tightly and he felt himself almost dragged behind her. It was as if he were in a terrible dream made bearable only because his best friend in all the world was with him and he trusted that nothing bad would happen with Lou by his side.

  The heather stretched out alongside the grass path like a dark grey carpet. The wind had died and all was still and calm. The only sound came from the far-off rumble of the sea crashing against the rocky coastline.

  Their bikes were where they had left them, propped against the tree. It was an easy, mainly downhill cycle from Mynytho to Abersoch. At 1am, a few lights twinkled stubbornly, as if waiting up for their return. The sight gladdened their hearts. They rode into Lou’s drive and she fastened the gate carefully behind them.

  ‘Let’s get the kettle on and light the wood burner,’ said Lou.

  Jack sat on the rug in front of the hearth looking gratefully at the flames licked around the logs, radiating welcome heat. The kettle boiled in the kitchen from which came a pleasant aroma.

  A couple of minutes later, Lou walked into the lounge with two big mugs brimming with hot chocolate and a plateful of toasted, buttered teacakes. She sat alongside Jack and said, sheepishly, ‘I’m sorry, I had no idea what we were letting ourselves in for, it terrified you, I know it did. I was frightened too, and it takes a lot to scare me.’

  ‘It’s ok,’ said Jack, much recovered. ‘I didn’t want to come but I didn’t want to miss it either and I couldn’t bear you staking out the place in the dark on your own. And look at us now – sitting in front of a log fire at your holiday cottage having a secret midnight feast, which our parents don’t have a clue about. It’s great!’

  Lou smiled warmly at him. ‘A one-thirty in the morning feast, more like! I’m so glad we’re friends, Jack. You are my number one best friend and David and Emily are joint second best friends. You came with me even though you were scared and in your heart of hearts, I don’t think you much wanted to, but I’m glad you did. I couldn’t have coped alone. No wonder poor Mrs Owen is terrified.’

  ‘Whatever was all that earlier?’ said Jack. ‘Did it really happen? It was like watching some horror movie. I’ve never been frightened of ghosts before – I don’t think I’ve ever actually believed in them but I do now and I’ll admit they petrified me.’

  ‘Like I said before,’ said Lou, softly, staring into the fire, ‘I keep an open mind on the paranormal – I neither believe nor disbelieve. As for what we witnessed tonight, it is utterly baffling.’

  ‘That’s the nature of the paranormal, isn’t it?’ said Jack. ‘It is literally beyond our comprehension. The spirit world cannot be explained by science or indeed religion, it defies all logic.’

  ‘That may be and I am never one to scoff at anyone who does believe in the spirit world,’ said Lou, taking a big bite out of her teacake. ‘But a logical, rational explanation should always be sought first.’

  ‘What logical, rational explanation could there possibly be?’ asked Jack. ‘What happened scared us witless, and no doubt poor Mrs Owen, too. How could that be anything other than paranormal activity?’

  Lou, pursed her lips, deep in thought. ‘Is that what ghosts do, do you think, they rise from the dead – angry souls who seek to wreak terror on the living? What we witnessed tonight seemed calculated to scare – to scare whom? Mrs Owen, the poor old woman who lives there. Now surely the question is why would anyone, dead or alive, wish to do that?’

  ‘You cannot rationalise the anger and sense of loss of troubled spirits,’ said Jack. ‘Perhaps that wailing was the anguish of that young girl Megan, whose life was taken from her so cruelly, so long ago.’

  ‘I certainly can’t rationalise it, not for now,’ said Lou, ‘and I tell you what, let’s not try. It’s the dead of night,’ she added, shivering at her use of an unfortunate expression. ‘I just want to think happy thoughts, that you and me are ok and we’re back here safe and sound in front of a warm fire with teacakes to eat and hot chocolate to drink.’

  ‘Yes,’ said Jack, agreeing. ‘Let’s talk it over with the others when the sun is shining – and see what they think about it all.’

  He yawned, unused to being up at such an hour.

  ‘You better go, Jack,’ said Lou. ‘You will be in trouble with your parents if they discover you’re missing. They will wonder what on earth is going on. I will ride back with you to the caravan site.’

  ‘Ok,’ said Jack, wishing he had managed to stifle that yawn. ‘Thank you for an exciting evening.’

  They both laughed. It had turned out to be rather too exciting but it would be fun recounting their experience to the others in the morning. They would scarcely be able to believe it.

 

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