Banshee Angel Of Judgement

by Billy Young

  She wished then for some secret room but when it came and the little food store was boarded over she had come to regret this wish but once freed to roam the night again was thankful in a strange ungrateful way toward the hag who’d had her boarded in and kept her trapped with the crosses placed everywhere around the small cottage.

  Chapter 13

  They collected the brushes and the shovel from where they had left them before the break for lunch. With them they headed into the walled garden making their way up the hill inside to the top passing rides on either side and the large green house on the left half way up, that now housed one of the many eating places in the park as they went.

  “Where did all the mud come from?” Andy asked as they got near the top of the hill with the new ride, to the left, at the back of the walled enclosure, behind the glass eatery.

  “Off the tyres of the Manitou’s,” Micky said as he thought where best to start.

  “I think we’ll need to use the shovel to loosen it before brushing it up,” stated Andy as he looked at the thick muddy clots of earth that covered the wide concrete pathway.

  “Yeah, well I think we’ll leave that till last and get the rest of the paths done first,” Micky put the shovel against a hut used for selling ice cream even though the same type of refreshment could be gotten at the glass house a short distance away. Andy nodded his approval at this decision as he dreaded the effort it would take to lift the muck from the concrete.

  As they began working away from the path that led to the Troika, as voices came up the garden as the maintenance crew headed leisurely back to work.

  “Why do they get longer than us for lunch?” Andy thought it a little unfair and had asked this same question before.

  “It’s not for us to question why but just do or die,” Micky used the old saying as he had previously for it was one of his favourite sayings when it came to work.

  “Well I don’t fancy dying so I suppose I’ll just have to do, what ever that is,” Andy joked.

  “Well when you’re ready you can get started then,” Micky said cockily.

  “Cheeky shit,” Andy brushed some leaves towards Micky’s feet.

  “Watch my good shoes,” Micky sound truly offended.

  “Right, if that’s you’re good shoes I’d hate to see your other ones,” Andy’s wide smile beamed at his friend.

  “Are you dissing my shoes,” Micky acted shocked.

  “There’s nothing to diss,” Andy giggled the words.

  “That’s just plain nasty,” he acted hurt as the crowd of maintenance works turned along the other path towards the ride they had been toiling at all morning.

  “What? The truth hurt,” Andy laughed.

  “It would only hurt if it were true,” Micky tried to sound suave.

  “Okay old man if you say so,” Andy pretended to be sorry as he pushed more leaves to join the slowly growing pile both men were creating as they worked.

  “Less of the old if you don’t mind,” Micky laughed at his nerve.

  “As I said, does the truth hurt,” he laughed aloud.

  “YOU TWO PACK IN THE CARRY ON AND GET SOME WORK DONE!” Charlie shouted from the main pathway with a big grin plastered across his face.

  “WHEN DO YOU GET STARTED THEN?!” Micky called back.

  “PRIVILEGE OF BEING GAFFER!” Charlie replied as he turned the corner on his way.

  “Get the shovel and we’ll dump this lot in a bag,” Micky said putting his brush against the Crazy Worm’s fence, with its large apple tunnel, then took the roll of bags from his belt where he’d kept them since that morning ready for when they were needed.

  “Okay,” Andy laid his broom up against the opposite fencing before casually going to retrieve the shovel.

  The winter debris was scooped up into the open bag that Micky held, as he had all morning, whilst letting Andy do the work; which he did without thinking or questioning.

  So they worked through the afternoon in a like manner, sweeping up a small pile of dross, putting it into a bag then sweeping some more. Once they had two bags full Micky would take them down to the skip using the side gate that led straight to the large container. Andy would continue to sweep while Micky was away.

  By late afternoon only the main thoroughfare remain to be done with its muddy tracks from the heavy machinery used to deliver the parts for the new ride to its location.

  “You scrape with the shovel to loosen up the muck and I’ll brush into the side verge,” Micky said as he lifted the last bag he hoped he’d be dumping that day.

  “Will we not need to put it in a bag for the skip?” Andy seemed surprised that Micky just wanted to brush it to the side verge of the rides rather than pick it up and get rid of it.

  “No, it should be okay to just brush this lot to the side, after all it just soil off of the tyres of the Manitou,” Micky said as he turned on his way to the skip, “you get a start at loosening it up.”

  “All right,” Andy still had the shovel in his hand from lifting the last load into the bag so began scraping at the concrete. The metal grated loudly as the dry earth broke up easily. He had made good progress by the time Micky returned.

  “In a bit of a hurry for more work or something?” Micky joked as he took his brush from where he’d left it.

  “Just giving you something to do then you might actually do some work for a change,” Andy raised his eyebrows playfully.

  “Oh, is that right maybe I should just stand here then and let you get on with it, eh?” Micky nodded toward his tall friend.

  “Well there wouldn’t be much of a change there then,” Andy sniggered.

  “Cheeky big shit,” Micky also laughed a little at the younger man’s cheek as the stiff bristles of his brush created clouds of dust, as he began to sweep, which the soft breeze carried slowly away.

  “When do you think Charlie will need us?” Andy asked as he scooped some of the loose soil throwing it under the fencing at the side of the path.

  “No idea,” Micky answered, “that’s if they even need us,” he added looking up beyond the greenhouse to where the other men laboured but couldn’t see much as the glass structure blocked most of the view.

  “What’s the time by the way?” Andy looked at the sun low in the sky.

  Micky stopped to look at his watch. “Fuck, its going on five,” he declared his shock at how late it had gotten.

  “I hope you don’t swear like that when there are customers in the park?” The voice of their boss came from behind them.

  Both men turned to see what the woman wanted. “Oh, sorry about that just taken aback at the time,” Micky quickly answered.

  “Yes, well anyway, how are you getting on?” She said looking at the muddy tracks.

  “Slowly but we’re getting there,” Micky looked at the progress they’d already made which didn’t seem much to him as they really had only begun.

  “Well it needs to be done before we finish tonight,” she said before adding, “so, when can you both work to?”

  “Well, till the light starts fading I suppose,” Mick frowned thoughtfully.

  “I’m the same,” Andy agreed with his more experienced colleague.

  “Well let’s hope you finish before then,” she smiled at the two men, “but thank you for helping out, we really appreciate it.”

  “Charlie said he might need our help with the cars on the Troika but we should still get this lot finished though,” Micky thought it best to let his boss know about Charlie.

  “Will you still be able to sweep this up?” She asked with a look of concern at not listening to what Micky had fully said.

  “Yeah, no problem with any luck,” Micky straightened his stiff back.

  “Good, good,” the woman nodded her expression relaxing, “alright then, I be back in about an hour to see how you’re getting on then, okay.” At that she turned around and left the men to their work.

  “She could have given us a hand if she’d wanted,” Andy said aft
er she had gone.

  “Yeah right,” Micky shook his head, “we’ll really see that happening, won’t we.”

  “Well if we had a hand we’d get finished earlier,” Andy paused his scraping as he spoke, leaning on the handle of his utensil.

  “Well we’ve not got that option have we so let’s just get on with it,” Micky pushed more loose earth aside as the breeze picked up the dust cloud as if it were smoke.

  “But you have to admit it’s true though,” Andy persisted.

  “Yeah, but the same could be said that if you’d stop just standing there and got some work done, we’d be finished sooner too,” Micky grinned at Andy as he spoke.

  “I was just let you catch up a bit,” Andy smiled back then returned to loosening the dried mud.

  “Never mind about me catching up as you can help sweep after you’ve done that,” Micky created more clouds of dust.

  “Sure you don’t want me to just get on and do it all myself,” Andy joked over his shoulder.

  “Well if you want but I thought you’d need a hand,” Micky pushed some soil at Andy with his broom. It clouded around Andy’s legs.

  “Hey,” exclaimed the taller man as he threw some muck back towards Micky. Both laughed at the other then got back to the task at hand.

  Finally they reached the top of the hill. Micky looked back down at the now, much cleaner wide main pathway. His back niggled painfully at him as he stretched to loosen the stiffness from stooping all day to brush.

  “MICKY!” Charlie’s shout brought him to look in the direction of the Troika, “CAN YOU AND YOUR MATE GIVE US A HAND NOW!”

  “BE RIGHT THERE!” Micky called back. “Looks like they need us after all,” he said to Andy as he past the younger man and leaned the broom he’d been using against the ice-cream hut. Andy put his shovel next to the broom.

  “What do you think they need us for anyway?” Andy asked as they strolled along the path to the waiting maintenance man.

  “Well we’ll soon find out,” Micky replied as they approached Charlie.

  “Give us a hand pushing the cars down so we can lock them in place,” Charlie explained.

  “No problem,” both men said almost as one, both with a similar dumb look on their faces.

  They joined the other men grouped near one of the cars. Micky looked at his wrist to see the time, knowing it was getting late as the sun was dipping towards the misty horizon. The hands of his watch told it was almost twenty past six.

  “In a rush to go some where?” Chippy asked cheerily.

  “Home for dinner,” Micky smiled back at the carpenter, “So you got nothing else to do today I take it?”

  “Well, not really but I’ll need to be in early to fix the fence before the park opens,” he motioned at the large section of the wooden enclosure that had been removed for easier access to the ride, as Micky nodded understandingly.

  “Right,” Charlie said as he approached the group of men standing next to the red car, “let’s get this car locked in place and then get the last of them done before it gets too dark to work.”

  The crowded group turned to face the car ready to push as one.

  Chapter 14

  As the shadows grew longer she left her room and made her way up into the main house to wait for dark. She watched from the window waiting to see the two men from the previous day.

  As she waited she thought of the joy she had felt on the night she had sought her revenge on the laird so many years ago. He had thought he was safe from her, hiding in his mansion.

  It had been a cold damp miserable night. He’d made sure the servants had secured all the doors and windows with shouts of abuse, “Get a move on you bunch of tottering hedge-born measle’s.”

  She spied from the cover of the nearby trees, hiding in the branches listening to his vulgar mouth. She wondered if he’d speak so rudely to her, she hoped he would.

  “God damn you fucking bunch of miscreant sons of sows.”

  At last every window was check as well as all the doors for the umpteenth time that evening. At that the fear was gone for how could anything get to him now. He relaxed at last ordering food to be brought to his room with the same foul mouth; after all he’d always told himself it was the only way to deal with these inferior beings, though his father had always frowned on him for doing so.

  She waited till it was late and he was sure to be safely tucked up in his bed before she moved to do her terrible deed; to fulfil her need for vengeance and so to hopefully find the peace she believed it would hold.

  Sailing into the air from her perch she drifted to his window she tapped lightly at one of the small square panes of glass. When no sound came from inside she started to tap harder then scratch her talons down the small windowpane to the frame holding the glass in place. Finally she heard his gruff voice cursing at the disturbance to his peace.

  She sailed higher above the window as he pulled the heavy drapes aside then opened the wooden shutters to gaze out into the darkness. When he saw nothing he pulled the curtains together nervously leaving the casement open to the night, no sooner back in his bed than the noise began again. Each time she began to softly tap, the tapping getting louder whilst listening for his approach towards the window to see if he could find the damnable culprit that was interfering with his nights sleep.

  After several repeated return journeys to the window with no joy he decided to wait behind the curtain for the noise to return. She could feel his presence hiding, waiting. The fear ebbed and flowed up through the building filling her with excitement, as a feeling of shear exuberating evil grew inside.

  The power she had drawn from her other victims had strengthened her but now she felt all powerful, stronger than she had ever been aware of or could be possible before. The fact that now her revenge would soon be complete, made her feel even greater malevolence towards the weak snivelling cowered trying to hide inside and with her final revenge she would be free from the curse she had invoked, free to finally find the rest she felt would be rightly hers.

  After what seemed an age the young man standing in his night dress could stand the cold drafts that played about his legs no longer. He crossed the large high ceiling room to the heat of the cracking fire to warm himself. As he did so she pushed her way through the glass following the laird silently till he turned to stare into her white cold eyes.

  He took a step back as her gaze held his, the heat pushed him back. As he moved forward he found to his growing dread he could not stop as he moved ever closer to the leering grotesque form that stood a couple of feet away from him.

  As he came closer she broke her gaze as if suddenly disinterested, floated slowly over to his dresser with its wig on its pedestal and other finery for beautifying himself with. She looked down waiting for his reaction hoping to make this moment last, to savour every last second which, as she looked back she realized was her mistake.

  He retreated from the fire to his bed and the pot cabinet on top of which sat the bible he had taken to keeping there. He snatched the book from where it sat feeling less fearful with it in his hands.

  “What do you want with me?” He asked as the apparition continued to look over his possessions on his large dresser and he drew courage from the object in his hands.

  After a moment she looked slowly round at the being of her anger with a cold deliberate fascination as she sensed his fear had subsided. “Don’t you know? Am I so different? Maybe if I looked like this you would know,” she said as she changed to appear as she had in life.

  His eyes widened in recognition, “You,” he had suspected, yet feared to truly believe, in a futile hope that by not believing it would make it go away.

  “Yes, me the one you plotted and condemned and for what?” the venom she felt toward the man spilled into her voice, “my mothers small bit of land.”

  “That your mother obtained from my father through witchcraft,” he sounded defiant feeling a renewed confidence from the book now clutched firmly against
his chest.

  “Witchcraft,” She mocked.

  “Yes,” he said less sure of himself.

  “Oh, dear brother how wrong you are,” she watched as the words slammed into his mind.

  “Brother! I’m no brother of yours!” He exclaimed indignantly.

  “Oh, but you are. Why else do you think you’re father was so generous to my mother?” She cackled as the reality revealed, stung the laird.

  “She put a spell on him that’s how,” he tried to deny what he now saw to be true as he remember how when this young woman had visited the manor his father had always been keen to speak to her before she left after delivering her errands. He also remembered how his mother always hated the girl as if she were some sort of threat.

  “A spell, is that what you call love, lust,” she smiled maliciously.

  “No, it can not be. You were condemned as a witch and the proof now stands before me but I cast you out by the power of our risen lord,” he stood fire in his eyes demanding her to be vanquished by his words.

  Her anger reach to the point she could no longer contain it, transforming her back to the distorted creature of the night that sought out the souls of those that had wronged her. And before her stood the last of these, her own half brother who had not known she was his flesh and blood. The one behind all that had befallen her.

  She rose as she could no longer contain the rage within, having to release some of it before she lost all control. Her mouth open emitting her soul chilling scream as she darted forward, talons reaching for his succulent juicy soul.

  His eyes widened as fear once again filled his being. He gripped the bible tighter as the grasping form darted for him. Her hand crashed against the book as her face came, screaming, within inches of his. She howled her disgust and pain as she was thrown across the room.

  Again she tried to have her revenge but to no avail as the book protected the now white haired man. His grip growing tighter, knuckles white with the exertion his eyes wide almost with madness as his fear filled the air; as she screamed her fury before leaving, retreating to her lair.