A Death Displaced

by Andrew Butcher

  If he turned Aldrich in, he would escape easily, and who knows what he would do then?

  ‘No, I’m not going to kill you. We will figure something out, a compromise. I just want to ask you more questions.’

  ‘A compromise? Yes. I know! That pretty woman with you. I can make her yours. I’ll make her your slave. She’ll treat you like a king. I can do that. Make her yours. Your bitch. Yes? And you’ll let me go?’ he spoke quick this time, excitedly.

  ‘No! You can’t invade someone’s mind like that. She has her own free will. She’s no one’s slave.’ Nick almost barked the words out. The lack of respect for Juliet was abhorrent.

  Nick was sexually attracted to Juliet; he couldn’t deny that. But what Aldrich was suggesting was no better than rape. Maybe even worse.

  If Nick and Juliet ever developed to that stage, he would want anything sexual to be consensual and special. Intimate. Loving. But this was thinking way ahead; they’d only kissed for the first time today.

  ‘What about money? I’ll make you rich. Look at my manor. All the money in the world. Yours!’ Aldrich twitched.

  ‘No, I don’t want anything from you. I’m not going to kill you anyway.’ Nick cringed again at the thought of physically killing someone. He found himself glancing back towards the manor. All that money. He’d never have to work again. No, he couldn’t do it. ‘I just want to ask more questions, that’s all.’

  ‘You want to know about your mother. I know why you’re here.’

  ‘Yeah, that’s why I’m here.’

  Aldrich then continued with the previous conversation as if he’d never changed the subject, ‘How I pick my victims… I can afford to take my time. My favourite method is to advertise. In the local paper. Old junk for sale, car for sale, collectibles, and the likes. Yes. I never own the actual thing. And when they call me and come to my manor, I invite them inside. That is where the game begins. Game, yes.’ he sniffled a disturbing laugh.

  ‘I invite them inside’ he went on, ‘Sometimes I ask direct questions. Other times I jump right inside of their minds. Does anyone know you are here? Yes equals go home and I erase their memory of ever coming to the manor, but a no and we are on to the next level. Do you have children? Yes, the next level. No, go home and erase memory.’

  ‘That sounds like a long process.’ Nick commented, disgusted at the ritual-like way in which Aldrich picked his victims. It reminded him of TV programmes and films he had seen with serial killers in. Aldrich was a serial killer, he supposed.

  ‘Yes, yes, it can take a long time to find the right person, or people. Long time. It’s ever so fun. Fun. Yes. Criteria, no one knows they came to my manor, no one knows they were interested in my item in the ad, they have children, and then the next level is programming their minds.

  ‘It takes some time. I program them to fetch their children and return to the manor. I program them to be stealthy about it. Don’t tell anyone. If they are seen too close to the manor, then turn around and try another day. If not, then continue. It’s secluded out here. Nearest house, a few miles.

  ‘Once they are here, the parent does the deed. I fiddle with their mind again. Ensure they have no memories of it. Then they drive away, return to their life, then think, where’s my dear child?’ Aldrich smiled; he looked to be pleasantly reminiscing, ‘Ha, I love to read the papers, watch the news, sobbing parents pleading for their missing child. Funny. Mr and Mrs Baker are particularly pathetic.’

  ‘You’re sick. There’s nothing human about you.’ Nick said frankly. ‘I don’t want to know anything more. All I want to know now is what you know about my mum.’

  This was the moment of truth; his heart quickened in preparation for the answer.

  ‘Your mother rang me. She saw my advert. Small family day-boat for sale. I think it was three thousand and three hundred pounds. She was disgustingly cloying. Cloying. Yes. Blabbed about it being the perfect birthday present for her husband. Soppy, sickly stuff. I played along. We agreed on a cash payment if she came to view the boat and wanted it. Of course the boat didn’t exist.’ he was looking off to the side, through the trees, showing blatant boredom.

  Nick tried to figure it out as he went along; his body tensed at Aldrich mocking his mum.

  ‘Your mother arrived at my front door. I invited her inside. Spoke with her, she had your smile. I thought I recognised you when you came to my door earlier. Yes. Anyway, I asked your mother the usual questions: do you have children, did you tell anyone you came here, etcetera. Ha, etcetera. Yes.

  ‘She answered me, confusedly. I was happy to learn she had three children: two of them ten year old boys, twins, your brothers! Moloch loves twins. Then I tried to trance her, use my mind-trick... as you called it. I said to her, bring me your twins. I attempted to dig inside her mind, but her mind was like yours. It was out of reach.’

  Although it was cold, and Nick had been chilled throughout, he experienced heat surging through him now; a hot rage. The thought that Aldrich would have sacrificed Tom and Tommy made him furious.

  He wanted to cover his ears. He wanted to cry.

  Aldrich continued, ‘I panicked then, your mother knew there was something wrong. I’d revealed that I wanted her boys, the precious twins. She stood up to leave. I couldn’t let her. I couldn’t trance her. She would have told the authorities about me. If enough people came to my door, I couldn’t control more than five at once. No. Not effectively. I’d never met anyone who I couldn’t trance. Never. In my long years, never.’

  ‘I reached for a knife, an old ornament of mine, I stabbed her repeatedly. Yes. Ha, I’d never killed without using my ability before. She struggled. Tried to scratch at my face, tried to kick me. Blood everywhere.’ he said everything matter-of-fact, as if he was telling Nick what he had for breakfast, rather than that he’d murdered his mother. ‘I disposed of her body. I put it in the boot of her car, drove it to the cliff over there,’ he pointed towards the cliff edge, ‘and pushed it over the edge.’

  A lump invaded Nick’s throat. It was heart-breaking to realise that his mum had never wanted to leave her family. He knew now why she’d withdrawn the money; she’d planned a romantic present for her husband. His dad would have loved a day-boat. Nick’s mind was cloudy, foggy; he came over lightheaded and uncomfortable.

  He couldn’t stop the graphic images that came to his mind: his mother struggling, fighting for her life. The pure horror she must have felt. What were her last thoughts? His body became hotter; he sweated, alternating between tensing and shaking.

  He thought of his relationship with his dad, how it changed after his mum’s disappearance. He thought about his insecurities in the past relationship with Kerra. He’d always been afraid she would leave, like his mum did.

  He thought about how he’d failed most of his GCSEs because of the grief. He thought about how he’d had to move out to get away from his dad, and now he never had any money, he had to struggle on a part time wage. He thought about how he’d secluded himself and lost contact with most of his friends.

  Then finally he thought about what his life would have been like if his mother was still alive; how full of joy his dad would be; all the things they could have done together in the past eight, almost nine, years; the family holidays they would have gone on; the Christmases and Birthdays they could have celebrated as a complete family; the love they would have shared.

  I want to kill him.

  He looked at Aldrich who was impatiently goggling around at the trees. The tree in which Aldrich was propped against was completely leafless. It was tall and almost black with crooked branches. It looked dead but full of character, menacing; if a tree could be described as such. It was only too appropriate to have the monster known as Aldrich propped against such a macabre tree.

  Aldrich turned to Nick sharply, then said, ‘Oh, and if I could have put your mother under a trance, I would have done a lot more than just sacrifice your brothers. She was a pretty thing. Yes. She would have looked very agreeab
le in my bed.’ he cackled violently.

  Within a split second, Nick found himself pounding Aldrich in the face. He brought his fist down repeatedly. He felt the awful thud of his knuckles on Aldrich’s skull. He heard Aldrich’s nose crack. Blood gushed from his nostrils. I hate you, I HATE YOU.

  He moved back, only to kick Aldrich in the ribs. It pleased Nick that he’d worn winkle-pickers and the pointed end would surely hurt Aldrich’s side. In his fury, the pains from being attacked earlier were dulled. They didn’t matter!

  Then he got his foot tangled in the chocolate-brown throw that covered Aldrich. He awkwardly tripped on it, but got back up and continued to kick and punch him, in frenzy, and then he looked at Aldrich’s face. Aldrich weakly murmured, ‘St…stop… p…ppuh…please.’ his head lulled to one side. Spit mixed with blood sloppily dripped from his mouth.

  Why should I stop? You didn’t stop when you stabbed my mum to death, my innocent mum. You don’t deserve mercy. But then he did stop. He focused on the pain in his knuckles, and in his toes. His fists were bloody. His body ached; he wasn’t one for regular exercise... this was physically taxing.

  He knew he had a choice.

  It was a choice that could change him forever.

  I can’t kill you. I’m not like you. I’m not a murderer.

  He allowed himself to stumble backwards and fall to the ground. Aldrich’s chest still rose and fell, so Nick felt slight relief. He didn’t have the energy to cry, so he simply sat there.

  After a long, long moment of well-deserved self-pity, he tried to stand up tall. Fatigued, he got to his feet and then trudged over to Aldrich. He weakly reapplied the blindfold. Aldrich moaned dazedly in defiance.

  Nick thought about the idea that his mum was immune to Aldrich’s ability too, and that’s what got her killed.

  He considered that possibly his mum was ‘psychic’ like he was, and the gift was passed down to him. If she saw the future though, she wouldn’t have been murdered, but then as he’d already experienced, the visions weren’t necessarily accurate. And also, Nick only had his first vision recently, at the age of twenty four. It was possible that his mum’s ability never switched on.

  The blood, his mother covered in dark-red punctures, fleshy, glistening wounds... gore; horrible images flickering across his mind. Urghhh, he clenched his fists and mentally pushed the pictures away; hopefully somewhere they would stay locked tight, never to return.

  Aldrich had said that Samantha Crystan’s mind looked the same as Nick’s, but that the twins’ minds weren’t the same. Did the gift only get passed down to the first born? Or maybe because they were twins, the gift became split or weakened. He just didn’t know enough about his ability, he made a grumbling fed-up sound and dismissed his thoughts.

  ‘Juliet?’ he shouted, his voice coming out weaker than expected, ‘Juliet, the blindfold is back on him. You can come back.’

  There was no response; he tried to spot her through the trees.

  ‘Juliet?’ he bellowed.

  Where is she?

  Chapter 16

  Transfixed, she walked. Autumn decay rustled underfoot. The woods swelled thicker, denser, heavier. Twigs crunched and the air smelt damp and wooden. Were the trees becoming taller the further she delved into the woods?

  The thing swirled and weaved excitedly through the tangled trees. It glowed. Juliet’s eyes were glued to it, and its reflection shone and twinkled on the surface of her eyes.

  A tranquil quiet filled Juliet’s mind as she followed the thing. She knew that she could break off at any point. This wasn’t like Aldrich’s evil trance; she had the choice to turn and walk away, but she didn’t want to.

  It was beautiful.

  She knew it wasn’t a spirit. It didn’t wobble the air or agitate the atmosphere the way the spirits did. It was too elegant for that.

  The decadent ground transformed the more she tread. She looked behind her, towards the direction she came from. It was full of brown, orange and red. It was autumn at its purest.

  But then she looked ahead of her, in the direction of the bobbing thing. It was so alive in that direction. Autumn hadn’t hit that area. It was impossible.

  Not all the trees were coniferous, and she knew enough to recognise that most of these trees were deciduous and should have been leafless at this time. It wasn’t just the fact that they were leaved, but that they were so, so green. Branches were thick and full of overflowing foliage. And then she noticed the flowers. They coated the ground in a myriad of colours: wildflowers of blue, yellow, purple and white. There were some she recognised and many she didn’t.

  Have I stepped into a different world? Surely it’s spring here.

  She turned back again; she could see autumn behind her, in walking distance. She was confident that she was still in this world, and that she hadn’t somehow passed out and woke in spring, or stepped through a door into another universe.

  There are probably scientific reasons to explain this. Then instantly after that thought, she wasn’t so certain she believed it. It all looked too magical; everything was mingled harmoniously.

  She was modestly impressed with herself for not freaking out. She imagined that a lesser person would be jostling in their knees right about now.

  The bobbing fairy-like thing demanded her attention, and then zoomed through a bush and out of sight. She sped up and eagerly pushed through in pursuit.

  She found herself in a vast open area. The trees created a large circle perimeter, and when she looked up, a halo of the sky. She felt like a contestant walking into an ancient Roman arena, like the Colosseum, and the trees were spectators.

  The ground was simply grassed in this clearing, deliciously green of course, but in the centre was the strangest thing.

  A set of steps.

  They didn’t lead upwards. They led down, below ground-level, as if to a basement in the woods.

  The steps looked ancient. Juliet cautiously walked forwards. She knelt down and couldn’t resist the urge to touch the first stone step. It was smooth, as if weathered, and it felt strong against her fingers. It contrasted with its appearance; she’d expected a coarse, sandy texture. They looked almost ready to crumble.

  In fact, the steps reminded her of a place in Athens. On holiday with her parents, she’d visited the dramatic marble hill, Areopagus, also known as Mars Hill or the Hill of Ares. She recalled the old marble steps that led to Mars Hill, and these were so alike, majestic.

  She came back to the here and now, and gasped when she saw what was at the bottom of the steps. There was a pool of light: almost completely white, shining fiercely. She stood up and moved backwards. She wasn’t sure if ‘pool’ was the best fitting description.

  It looked to be of a gloopy consistency, ethereal, wondrous and full of glitters. There were no usual sounds of the woods, no rustling, no chirpy-cheeps from the birds. All was still, apart for the glowing pool; it warmly hummed a fixed, ringing note. It soothed her senses.

  Then she spotted the thing, the glimmering whatever-it-was; it bounced around the air momentarily, and then flew down into the pool.

  What on earth? Juliet’s face transformed, confounded. The thing just vanished through the pool of light. As if it became one with it, or as if the pool was really a… portal?

  Juliet thought: What is it? And did she imagine that she heard a whisper? Maybe it was a reply.

  She made an effort to direct her thoughts at the resplendent pool.

  What are you?

  The instant reply that pervaded her mind was: The Otherworld.

  It wasn’t like a voice saying it aloud; it was a sexless, language-less reply, but perfectly clear at the same time.

  So was it a portal? Could she pass through it? Go into the light?

  And then Tamara’s words came to mind, You’re anchored in two worlds. You spiritually died. You are displaced. Your soul is in the Otherworld, but your body is here.

  It startled her when she realised she’d overlooked th
e most important thing: that she had the opportunity to get her soul back. Potentially, it was on the other side of this portal.

  She could be normal and wouldn’t have to worry about spirits ever again. Although she’d already resolved to make the best out of her ability, she knew in her heart that she would rather not have it at all. That it was a curse.

  But then, anything could be on the other side of the portal. There was no guarantee that if she located her soul that she could do anything about it. Would it magically recognise her body and re-join it?

  I’ll worry about that when it comes to it. I’ve got to take this chance.

  She stole a deep breath and trundled down the steps. The air warmed the closer she got to the light pool. She paused, a step away, she moved one foot close to it, wanting to ‘test the water’ to see what would happen to her foot.

  She didn’t dare to just yet.

  Moving her foot away again, she thought about it. What if I passed through and couldn’t come back? She would be stuck in the Otherworld.

  The idea of not returning didn’t hurt her so much, surprisingly. She wouldn’t be leaving much behind. All she had was Chanton Hillview, Kim who was busy with Ryan, and her distant parents. Oh, and maybe now Nicolas, since she’d kissed him… could that lead to anything more?

  Stop, I’m being negative. Chanton Hillview is important to me. I’m a good manager. Kim is my best friend, I’d miss her and she’d miss me. My parents love me. These are things worth keeping. But... I want my soul back.

  While she mulled over her conflicts, the pool of light hummed louder. It drew her attention.

  And then it ‘said’ something: Hello Soulless One.

  The words forced a deep void in her chest. She felt empty in a swift moment. To be called soulless, it pained her, soulless, What am I without a soul? Am I even human? She wondered what was actually speaking to her.