by Peter Spokes
The twins took a step back.
“You cannot harm me!” Kramer shouted and cackled.
Luther had been watching intently and realised something; though Mary was spirit-form, he was not, but still related. He stepped forward. “No, but I believe I can.”
He looked over at Lizzie and Jenny but they looked uncertain and shook their heads very slightly.
Kramer ignored Luther and – still cackling – strode towards the father.
Father Bremmer looked at Kramer in horror as he advanced on him and desperately tried to concentrate on his words; “… This earth… having now been deconsecrated… and secularised…”
Luther ran forward, wincing with pain, and stopped before Kramer.
Kramer smiled. “You fool – you have no understanding,” and raised his gnarled hands to Luther.
Luther stood his ground and let Kramer grasp his neck.
“What is your game, Witch Spawn? I thought more of you but now I will squeeze out your life.”
Luther grasped Kramer’s wrists and looked over at the twins. “Okay, burn him,” he shouted.
Lizzie and Jenny shook their heads. “We cannot – it’s only our sister’s power that we can use!”
Luther looked back to Kramer’s torn and smiling face and realised his mistake. He began to feel his life ebbing as Kramer’s fingers tightened around his throat.
His mind looked for a way out. Through blurring eyes, he thought he saw Mary turn to the father and scream something to him. As blackness started to descend he realised Mary’s sisters were of no help to him.
His vision began to darken and his legs weaken.
Scene 9: Fire and Flame
Then, all of a sudden, there was fire and flame. It was all around him – and there were screams.
Through the inferno, Luther saw Mary and her sisters staring at him; a smile played on Mary’s lips as she looked over to the father.
The father had his arms raised and directed at Kramer but the intense conflagration appeared to be tearing from Luther; indeed, Luther was finding it hard to keep to his feet as the winds of the burning pulled irresistibly from him in all directions.
The flames engulfed both figures – but it was Kramer that screamed. Luther felt as if he were in the centre of a hot maelstrom that howled, deafeningly, around him, pulling at his body.
Kramer continued to scream and flail but Luther held him firmly.
Finally, the fire died and Kramer looked up; his hair and beard were now gone as was much of his flesh which now hung from a skeletal form. The skull smiled through a lipless mouth.
“… You will need… to do better… than that!” he spat as suddenly his body began to disintegrate. Luther found he held nothing but ash and bits of bone. He quickly rubbed his hands on his shirt to remove Kramer’s remains.
Luther stared in horror as a shimmering form took shape, and he backed away. Kramer’s ghost was far more grotesque than his physical form. Bestial red eyes devoid of any lingering humanity stared at him. Horns curled back from his head around pointed ears.
The creature turned and proceeded once again towards the father, its body covered in a thick clammy hair. It opened its overlarge mouth revealing needles of teeth.
“What can he do? He… it’s… a ghost!” Luther shouted with some frustration at Mary.
“We need to destroy his physical body – it hosts the spirit!” she shouted.
“I thought I… and the father… had just done that,” Luther replied.
“No. What you just burnt away was a physical veneer. But now he is exposed as what he really is. Over time and through his acts he has become something inhuman – a grotesque – a demon only – but his bones need to be found and destroyed.”
The father shouted the last line from his deconsecrating charter – his words falling over themselves in his haste… “I declare this location to be no longer subject to my canonical jurisdiction and deprived of its sacred character!”
Father Bremmer stopped and lowered his arms. He had finished. He was breathing heavily. There was silence.
The father looked exhausted; maybe the bringing forth of fire from Luther had been a physical challenge. He stood looking terrified at the demon creature that was once Kramer.
Kramer stopped – standing finally before him; the father had backed away until he was pressed up against the wall. He looked at Kramer for several moments before closing his eyes.
Then the world appeared to pause suddenly.
Kramer, the witches and Luther looked around and the father opened his eyes. Abruptly, all had become silent as if the world was listening… waiting.
The night creatures had become quite mute and all became darker as the clouds obscured the moon.
Luther looked around the graveyard with auspicious expectation.
In the sudden silence, Kramer turned once again to the father.
But just then there was a sudden series of deafening explosions from behind him.
Luther looked around to see sharp cracks appearing in the cemetery wall.
Luther and the father looked to the source. The roots that had congregated on the forest side of the wall for so many years suddenly appeared like snakes in a great wave breaking through and over the stones and into the graveyard.
Then there was the sound of something large and heavy dragging closer.
In the barely discernible moonlight Luther saw something large approach, that blotted out the stars.
Luther dove suddenly to one side as branches and roots dragged past missing him by inches.
Scene 10: Fire and a Hanging
Luther looked over at the wall where roots continued to force their way over and through the rock and slate. They broke through the wall and struck down disappearing into the soil sending earth, stones and thorny foliage flying through the air. Luther and the father turned away and covered their heads as it rained down on them. Luther fought unsuccessfully for his balance and fell as the earth started heaving beneath him.
Luther sat and watched the roots move around Mary and her sisters, almost caressing as they passed by them.
He watched – mesmerised – as they burrowed further into the earth before resurfacing to disappear once again into the earth in another direction.
The roots continued to search – to seek.
“No!” Kramer’s ghost screamed. “You will not take her; I will not allow it!”
Luther stared in disbelief at the tower – or rather the large tree that now stood before it. Luther watched incredulous as the tree swayed before the church tower for several moments before its branches came together in front of it to smash through the tower window. Its curled branches and tendrils then worked their way around the frame of Kramer’s portrait.
As Luther was wondering what it was doing he felt oddly distracted by the realisation that this was the same tree as the one close to his house; the one he had sat against recently.
Kramer’s ghost was uncertain, moving first to the father and then towards the tree.
All stopped to watch the chapel tower as the tree’s branches continued to grip the portrait. Dust began to fall from the frame as the tree creature’s coiled appendages suddenly became taut. Sharp reports suddenly echoed from the tower and then a crack broke across its walls as the entire frame was wrenched from the wall and pulled through the window smashing on the dry earth below.
From the remnants of the frame lay the preserved corpse of Kramer.
With its supporting wall pulled away the tower cracked and began to topple before crashing to the earth.
Roots and tendrils wrapped around the dry neck bones of Kramer’s corpse and dragged the cadaver across the graveyard towards the woods.
Kramer’s spirit stared in horror. “No!” he screamed.
Kramer looked down unbelieving as his missha
pen arms began to erupt and tear as his desiccated corpse was dragged across the thorny undergrowth of the graveyard.
Once beyond the broken walls, the tendrils tightened around the corpse’s neck and drew it up.
Then the tree shimmered appearing to shrink and reduce. The branches and tendrils withdrew and disappeared until all was left was… a man.
He appeared to straighten his back and looked around warily.
Then he saw Mary. He made no move towards her; just smiled as he looked at Kramer’s bones hanging close by.
Kramer’s horned demon stared at Hammett and started towards him. “Hammett! This time I will finish you for good.”
Hammett took a step back as the Kramer abomination advanced.
“Luther! Bremmer! The corpse!” Mary shouted suddenly.
Luther tried his best to run towards Kramer’s corpse still held by the roots and tendrils, but his chest hurt like fire. He reached the corpse and looked over to see the demon stop in front of Hammett.
Reaching his right hand up, he grabbed the dry corpse’s throat, tightly, and looked over at the father.
“Burn him!” Luther said.
The father raised his arms and once again Luther felt a warm and deafening inferno whipping around him.
The dried remains that was Kramer’s earthly body lit up with flame. Kramer’s spirit demon suddenly arched backwards; it howled with such hate and loathing.
Luther watched from his own conflagration as the creature began to burn – seemingly from the inside.
The creature writhed and withered until it was no more.
The inferno subsided and Luther returned his gaze to Kramer’s corpse which now was no more than ash at his feet.
He looked over at the father smiling, “You’re getting good at this.”
“Good Lord!” was all the father could manage as he lowered his arms. “I didn’t know I had it in me.”
Luther’s smile faded as he looked over at something erupting from the earth.
Hundreds of roots were reappearing from the soil. The object of their search was found.
Luther was surprised to find himself a little watery-eyed as a moment later and in their gentle caress, Mary’s corpse rose to the earth’s surface.
So very tenderly, the roots carried the corpse away across what was once the graveyard wall and into the woods.
Mary smiled and moved towards the spirit of Hammett and they held each other close.
Luther looked over at the couple and smiled. He was then distracted by the father who appeared to be having trouble with his speech. “From what you have told me… and I have seen… I am thinking that… you are probably my cousin or a distant relative,” he said quietly.
Luther looked down and smiled. “Yes; as a churchman how do you feel about being descended from a witch?”
Father Bremmer smiled back. “As a pagan, how do you feel being descended from a man of the church?”
“I suppose I could live with it,” Luther answered laughing.
“So as someone sceptical of the whole thing, how did you know about bringing the flame from me?” Luther asked.
“I… didn’t… One of the… witches… the one with red hair… she shouted to me to imagine fire all around the grotesque… so I did… and suddenly there it was. I never would have thought it possible… Good Lord, I cast a spell,” he said with some sudden realisation. “I didn’t need reminding the second time.”
“Well, I’m so glad – it saved my life and those of Mary and Hammett too… though they were already dead of course…” Luther ended uncertainly.
Luther took a deep breath and looked around. Dawn was breaking; birds were starting their dawn chorus and an intense pall was gone from the graveyard.
He and the father looked towards the woods where two ghosts wandered hand in hand into the caress of the woodland.
Luther looked desperately for some rationale or perhaps profundity. “Like a coffee?” the father asked. “Though I’m afraid the chapel may be out of order for some time.”
“That would be nice…” Luther answered, “though I think I might need to have my ribs checked,” he said wincing.
Luther Blaides and Father Bremmer left the graveyard and the partly demolished chapel and started up the hill towards Luther’s house.
Scene 11: Epilogue
Early the following morning the sun shone warm and bright on the leaves and branches of the woods.
In the space of just a few hours, the foliage had grown greener and abundant.
And two spirits dwelt in love and happiness within its nature.
If anyone had been present they would also have seen a pair of identical black cats following.
Let the Rats Feast
Scene 1: The Bunker
My first sensation was that of a killer of a headache.
My second was the smell of blood – and rotting flesh – several hours old – and a lot of it.
Then I heard the sound of battle – and from the snarling and howling it was clear that some of the combatants were not entirely human.
On opening my eyes, the world was red… my head hurt so badly… and I had a sense of loss – something so very dear to me, and needed to find it. It was all the more painful as I could not focus on it.
In my confusion, I gazed over at the scarlet corpses; some whole – some… not so. They appeared to be decorating the left wall.
As I shoved myself upright, the broken and mangled corpses took their rightful place on the floor and I felt a further sensation of restriction.
I sat for several moments staring uncomprehending at the bodies and listening to shouts and howls from outside the chamber I appeared to be in. The bodies appeared ripped and torn and – judging by the scarlet walls and ceiling – had been violently thrown around though before or after death, I was not to know.
I started to scramble backwards from the gore when I realised a restriction to my movement. I looked down in horror at something… bestial… lying across me – its shaggy tan coat, dirty and matted. It looked like a young wolf. I was fascinated and horrified at the same time, for its claws were reaching to my neck.
Had I killed it when it attacked me?
I felt a sudden colossal mix of emotions; horror, anger and… love? The last I quickly dismissed as understandable perplexity to my current situation.
But then… it yawned, revealing white sharp, pointed teeth that appeared too big and many for the size of its jaws; and canines, the length of which made me shudder.
Then it finally closed its mouth and proceeded to rest its head against my shoulder. It was warm and its chest gently rose and lowered with its restful breathing.
Fuck me! It was alive!
I looked around for something heavy to crush its skull and found a large brick which I hefted high above my head and paused briefly before bringing it down hard… into the ground beside the creature. I couldn’t kill it whatever hurt it may have caused me – or others.
Clearly, I was not a violent being which, again, made me wonder what the hell I was doing here.
Despite my initial horror, I gently moved its claws from my neck. As I did so I groaned as a pain shot through my chest to my back. I sat motionless breathing heavily and wondering how I had found myself in this charnel-house.
With some wincing, I gingerly prodded areas of my bloody chest. I found a discoloured scar about two inches long, in the upper left of my chest.
Despite the copious amount of dried blood that covered me, I could find no other wound other than a sensitive area – with more dried blood – on the back of my head. The scar on my chest didn’t look too serious – indeed it looked as if it may have been caused several weeks ago.
I concluded that all the blood must have come from the poor unfortunates that littered the room or the strange wolf-beast.
Despite an oddly diminishing reluctance to touch it, I stroked the beast’s back, flank and limbs – I ignored the claws – but found no wound.
I looked across at the corpses but their ripped bodies were silent to my questioning; but there were several things I now noticed: none of them was like the creature beside me; there were guns and bladed weapons among the dead while I appeared weaponless.
And I was naked.
Who was I and what the hell happened here? I asked myself again as if there was an expectation that the answer might come to me on my second or third asking.
I shook my head and looked around some more. As my mind appeared to be becoming more sentient I hoped I would see or understand further.
Close to the left wall was the smashed remnants of a cage.
Right! The creature was in the cage, broke out and killed everyone. It certainly had the claws and teeth; but as I looked at it I found myself smiling – maybe my head injury was more serious than first thought. It was hard to believe this creature could be that much of a killer; it was so… cute.
Whatever monster or monsters had performed this atrocity, it or they had not meant to kill, but to slaughter; an example or warning was being made here.
But to what end?
And why the hell was I naked?
Scene 2: Waiting for Hunter
I examined my containment; the chamber was perhaps eight feet in height, fifteen feet wide and opposite to me it extended to a broken grilled wall about twenty-five feet away.
Up to my left there was a small grilled opening that appeared to have earth and grass growing through it.
So I was underground – maybe in a bunker or cellar.
As I twisted to look behind me a spasm surged down my back and along my limbs. I turned my head this way and that in an attempt to loosen the sudden and urgent constrictions in my body.
Then the spasm ceased and the pain was gone.
After a moment’s heavy breathing, I once again returned my attention to the poor devils around me; as I was covered in blood maybe I had been mistakenly believed to be dead too.