Witnesses

by Anthony Watson

  “Oh yes,” Dolores said. “We will…”

  Dilly’s eyes opened. Pain filled her. She gasped and sat up, too quickly – more pain. I’m in church? Gradually, her breathing slowed and the burning in her belly subsided.

  Time to go, Dilly…

  For a second or two she scanned the interior of the church to locate the source of the voice before realising it had come from within her. She recognised the voice and remembered…

  Slowly, oh so slowly, she swung her legs over the edge of the pew, the blanket that had been covering her slipping to the floor. Gingerly, she got to her feet, wincing at the pain the movement caused, but amazed that she didn’t feel more.

  We’ll help you…

  Chris was nowhere to be seen. Had he just left her here? Was he so confident that he would do that? Must’ve been. Wasn’t like you were going anywhere, was it? She took a step, then another. The third took her into the aisle where she stopped momentarily to regain her balance. The pain might have been under control, but her fever still raged and her vision swam. Grabbing the edge of the pew, she steadied herself and took a deep breath. Slowly at first but then gaining momentum, she made her way along the aisle towards the door. By the time she reached it she was out of breath, panting deeply. She wiped sweat from her forehead and pulled the door open.

  Blinding whiteness filled her vision and she threw an arm across her eyes to blot it out, felt sharp spikes of pain lancing through her head. She stumbled slightly, grabbing the door for support, to prevent herself tumbling to the floor.

  Just do it…

  She lowered her arm, slowly opened her eyes to squint at the world beyond the open door. She felt the coldness of the air then, rushing into the church on tendrils of mist that cooled her skin, gave blessed relief to the fever burning there.

  She stepped forward, into the mist.

  Which enfolded her, and in the mist shapes moved. Dark, shadowy figures filling the cold, wet air with a gentle whispering. Moving steadily and confidently now, she strode across the wet grass, heading towards... wherever it was she had to go. Though definitely awake now, and fully conscious, she knew that something (someone?) was guiding her. More of her dream came back to her as she walked, and she knew – on some basic level – that where she was going, what she was going to do, was the most important thing in the whole world.

  The grass became a dirt track beneath her feet and she followed it through the whiteness that seemed to be intensifying the further down the slope she travelled, completely obscuring any kind of view she might have had, rendering the world the blankest of canvasses. The dark figures moved aside to let her past, almost deferentially, as if they were aware of the importance of her mission.

  All the while the whispering continued around her.

  From somewhere behind her a deep, bass rumbling began, one she could feel through the soles of her feet. She paused to listen more closely, the smothering fog making it impossible to tell from where exactly the sounds were emanating. The whispering faded to nothingness, though had it not the rumbling would have overwhelmed it anyway. She could feel the vibrations through her whole body now and these, along with the intensity of the noise, suggested an earthquake as their source.

  “This is bad” Dilly said, and began walking along the track again. She soon passed through a gate and found herself on an asphalt surface. Without having to think about it, she turned left and continued on through the white mist. The rumbling persisted, the noise growing louder and louder until it stopped suddenly. The tremors stopped, too, leaving a silence that was profound. Without even the whispering as background noise, Dilly had never felt so alone and isolated. Her exertions were beginning to take a toll on her; the pain had returned and weakness flooded her body.

  Just do it…

  She flinched at the words, which felt like a shout inside her head. Then came another sound, a scream of “No!” which echoed through the whiteness.

  Chris!

  He must have gone back into the church and found her gone. “No!” The cry came again, followed by the sound of her name being shouted, the panic apparent in his voice.

  She stumbled along the road again, fighting to maintain balance, ignoring the heat in her belly, the pain in her head.

  “Dilly!” The voice was closer now. He was coming after her. Fear lent her slight speed, though her weakness meant that she scuffed her feet on the road surface, creating a noise he was surely able to hear. Huge dark shapes loomed out of the mist as she staggered along the road. She was passing through a copse of trees, and then the surface beneath her feet changed again, the asphalt becoming wooden planking. Her footsteps echoed as she made her way onto the bridge. After twenty or so paces she stopped and leant against one of the supporting beams of the bridge. From far below, the sound of rushing water drifted up.

  “Dilly!” Chris’ voice rang out again. He was so much closer.

  Just do it…

  Dilly backed away, felt her calves bash against the side rail of the bridge.

  “Dilly!” She saw Chris run onto the bridge, barely visible through the mist. Saw the panicked look on his face. “Dilly,” this time much softer. “What’re you doing?” He began to walk towards her, raised his arms, palms downwards in a calming gesture. “Come here, honey.”

  Dilly retreated even further, climbing up onto the railings at the bridge’s edge. “Keep away from me, Chris! I know what you are, and I’m not gonna let this happen.”

  “Dilly! What do you mean? What’s all this about? Honey, you’re not well. Why, I had to go get you myself from that hospital! You were gonna die in there. I saved you!” He kept on walking towards her.

  “Keep away, Chris!”

  Chris stopped, held up his hands. “Okay, honey. Look, I’ve stopped.” He shook his head. “I’m not gonna hurt you, darlin’. I just want to help. They gave you some mighty strong drugs in that place. You’re not thinking straight. Come on, let me help you—”

  “Stay away!”

  Chris looked hurt. “I love you, Dilly.”

  And for the briefest of moments, she almost believed him, almost climbed down from the railing, almost ran to him.

  Almost.

  “No you don’t, Chris. And I sure as hell don’t love you!” She swung round on the railings to face outwards and let go of the beam she had been grasping. She heard his footsteps as he rushed across the bridge towards her.

  She smiled.

  “Just do it!” she said, and stepped off the railing.

  As she fell, she heard Chris’ plaintive cry and felt the wind rushing past her face. Brief images flashed before her eyes: a man in uniform standing in front of a stained-glass window, two men hugging each other in another church. Then she saw the river rushing up to claim her.

  * * *

  Sir, are you all right?

  Church opened his eyes, waited a moment for them to adjust to the gloom inside the church. Who had spoken to him? There was no one there, other than Dreschler, who sat cross-legged on the altar. It hadn’t been him though. It had been a female voice that had spoken to him. A dream, that’s all it could have been, and yet there were no images to associate with the words, none that he could recall at least.

  It was much darker inside the church. Had night fallen whilst he’d been asleep? His last memories were of greasy rabbit meat for breakfast and Dreschler’s talk of… sacrifice, The Beast. Surely he hadn’t slept the whole day.

  The pain in his broken arm, even now reasserting itself, would surely not have allowed that?

  “The time approaches.” Dreschler’s words distracted him from his ruminations. “We must prepare.” The German got to his feet in one fluid motion, a movement Church thought impossible. It was if the man had somehow levitated. Dreschler strode over to Church, towered over him. The gloom of the church gave the impression that the man had grown in stature.

  Was that a hint of red gleaming in his eyes?

  “I fear this is where me must part, my friend,
albeit briefly. It would have been wonderful for us to face The Beast together, to give ourselves to it alongside one another, but I’m afraid I can’t take any chances, not after coming this far.”

  “What are you on about, man? Take these bloody cuffs off, show me the courtesy I deserve. Have you no honour?”

  Dreschler grinned and, yes, the red glow in his eyes was there, intensified as he smiled, lending him a demonic cast. “I have honour, Dominic. Yes I do, and I regard you as my equal, not just in military terms, or even as a man, but because I know what you are, what we are. and yet I must be, what is the word? Pragmatic in this. I know that in your heart you know that everything I have told you is true, and yet I can sense your reluctance. You’re a soldier, Dominic, just like me, and I know that if I were to release you, you would do everything in your power to escape.” He laughed, manically, his head thrown back, the hideous noise reverberating and echoing off the ancient stone walls. “Not that that would be possible, of course. Escape from The Beast? I think not. No, Dominic, you’re still a threat to me. I may have the upper hand – both hands in fact, yes? – but you’re a resourceful chap, and I know that killing me would give you no qualms. It’s what you’re trained to do, is it not?” He shook his head. The manic grin had gone but the red glow in his eyes remained. “I can’t allow even the smallest chance of that happening, Dominic, our lives are The Beast’s to take. Nothing must prevent that from happening.”

  “I have a broken arm, for God’s sake! What possible threat could I pose to you? Release me now, you bastard. If I’m going to die, I’m not going to do it tied to a bloody seat!”

  A huge crashing noise from outside interrupted Church’s tirade. Like a huge peal of thunder it rolled and reverberated around the church. Both men felt the vibrations through their feet as the entire building shook in response to the massive upheaval that was occurring so close to it. The candlesticks atop the altar began to rock, one of them toppling over to fall from the table, landing on the hard stone floor with a resounding clang!

  “It’s time!” Dreschler almost sang the words; the manic gleam had returned to his eyes, enhanced by the deep, red glow residing there. “I’m sorry, Dominic, I have to go. Our destiny awaits.”

  The rumbling noise was intensifying and Dreschler had to shout to be heard above it. The dim light filtering through the west window grew darker still as a huge shape reared up behind it.

  “We did it, Dominic! You and I, we did it!” Dreschler spun away from Church, ran towards the exit of the church. “Glory and honour awaits!” he shouted back before flinging open the door and racing outside.

  The din was cacophonous and Church could barely hear himself think. Through the stained-glass window he discerned a huge form, a massive silhouette that seemed to writhe and undulate. The building around him continued to shake. Dust and small pieces of masonry rained down from the ceiling, clattering onto the floor and filling the church with clouds that irritated his throat.

  Dear God, he thought, it’s all true…

  And then a roar split the air, this time not the sound of buildings and earth under duress but the sound of an animal screaming, announcing its presence to the world. A sound that turned his blood to ice water.

  You’re going to die.

  Dreschler had told him as much many times, and yet it was only now that the words had an impact upon him, only now that he acknowledged their truth. And for what? Why should he, a soldier, be contemplating the reasons for his death? Had he not, in the very act of choosing the army as his profession, accepted the inevitability – the likelihood – that he would give up his life as a result of that decision. And for what? Some kind of noble cause, patriotism? Allegiance to king and country?

  (Just do it, Dilly said).

  Yes, he’d accepted the inevitability of his own death, and he had believed that his sacrifice would be worthwhile, would mean something.

  It still can…

  He glanced down at the splinter that had peeled back from the end of the pew. Another roar came from outside, more rubble clattered down from the ceiling. He shuffled in his seat, felt the dull ache in his broken arm turn to a flare of pain as he shifted position. He reached for the splinter with his left hand.

  Just do it…

  Grabbing the strip of wood near its base he gripped hard and began to twist. The wood was resistant and the pressure he applied caused the edges of the splinter to dig into his hand. The pain was excruciating, but he persisted, forcing the splinter away from the pew, watched as the fibres of exposed wood began to peel apart.

  Another mighty roar from outside and something huge crashed against the wall of the church. A beam in the ceiling snapped with a huge crack and Church ducked instinctively. More dust rained down and he released his grip on the splinter to cover his head. He coughed, deep, racking coughs to clear his lungs, spat a black gobbet of saliva to clear his mouth. The pain in the palm of his hand was intense and he examined it, saw the deep, ragged gash there from which dark red blood welled. Time was running out. The Beast was clearly trying to get into the church. Was Dreschler already dead, gone – was his destiny fulfilled? Frustration and panic combined within him and he screamed his anger to the world, a raw display of emotion that galvanised him once more. He grasped the splinter, felt but ignored the sharp pain in his palm, felt but ignored the tearing sensation that accompanied it, saw but ignored the splashes of red in the grey dust that had settled over the pew.

  He pulled, yanked, twisted with all his might, wearing down the last vestiges of resistance from the wood. “Come on, come on!” Despite his efforts, the splinter stubbornly refused to detach itself.

  Another crash and the stained-glass window shattered into fragments, exploding inwards, flinging multi-coloured shards across the altar and floor. Church once more released his grip on the splinter to protect himself with his arm. Glass rained down over him, crashing and tinkling.

  He glanced up, saw the gaping hole where the window had been, felt the cold air rushing in through it. The world outside was white, as if a blanket had been thrown over the church. A deathly silence had now fallen over everything, so quiet that he could hear the soft patter of his blood dripping onto the floor, the sound of his own ragged breathing.

  He glanced at the splinter, saw the amount of wood he still needed to break through to release it. Knew that he would not have time.

  And then another roar, even louder now that the physical impediment of the window had been removed. Something flew through the hole to crash onto the altar, and Church was horrified to see that it was a body.

  Dreschler had indeed fulfilled his destiny – and here was the proof.

  Even from a distance, Church could see the beatific smile on the dead German’s face. He shuffled in his seat, felt his boots crunching the shattered glass at his feet. Glanced down, saw the shard…

  Another roar from outside drew his gaze to the broken window. A movement at one edge, something long and sinuous creeping around the remains of the frame.

  The shard.

  Such it is that fate plays its part in the sequence of events… Dreschler’s own words. As more of the snake-thing (the tentacle?) made its way through the window, Church lunged forwards to pick up the triangular piece of green glass. As Dreschler had made his sacrifice, so he would make his. For king and country? No – for much more than that…

  Just do it…

  Church placed the edge of the glass shard against his throat and pressed it hard against the flesh.

  Another tentacle appeared but he’d closed his eyes and didn’t see it.

  With a sharp sideways pull he opened his throat, smiled as his life blood sprayed out over the consecrated ground.

  * * *

  “Feeling better?” Dark’s voice was calm, soothing. Dave’s eyes opened to the sight of the other man leaning over him, a look of concern etched upon his face.

  “Err… yeah. I’m fine thanks. What happened?”

  “You fainted, that’s
all. When we were outside. I think things are getting a bit much for you.”

  Dave felt his face redden, both in embarrassment and anger. “Yeah, well, I’ve not had much sleep lately. Bit tired, that’s all.”

  “It’s good you’re awake though, Dave.” Dark patted him on the shoulder. “It’s nearly time.”

  Dave’s stomach flipped over. “It being when we die? When we sacrifice ourselves?”

  Dark nodded. “I’m glad you’ve embraced the truth, Dave. It’ll make things so much easier when the time comes.”

  Dave shook his head. “I don’t know what’s the truth and what isn’t anymore. I don’t know how much of this is really happening and how much is… I don’t know… being done to me.”

  “It’s all true, Dave. It’s all really happening. You think I’m doing this, setting it all up? How could I? Think about it, Dave. All the things that were happening to you before we even met. How’s that fit in with your theory?”

  Dave had no reply. The queasiness in his stomach intensified and he gulped to prevent himself from actually being sick. Images of the shadowy figures in the graveyard popped into his head, exacerbating his feelings of dread even more. He was sure of one thing now. He would be dead before the end of the day. Whether it was as a sacrifice to fulfil a prophesy, or at the hands of a madman with a bible fetish, the outcome was the same.

  “So, this is it?” he said. “We sit and wait. To die.”

  Dark smiled but didn’t respond. This was proving to be tiresome. Despite all the obstinacy and bluster he knew that, deep down, Dave knew the truth of the situation. It was fortunate that the vessel chosen for the other witness was such a lazy coward. A typical example of humanity truth to tell. Their annihilation in the battle to come would be cause for great celebration. The world would be cleansed, after so many years of waiting, so many years of failure. The earth would be wiped clean of the contamination that had disfigured it over the centuries. Today was to be the greatest of days.

  A slight tremor shook the church. Whilst Dark grinned at the sound, Dave’s reaction was slightly more overt. “What the fuck?” He leapt to his feet, started pacing back and forth, twisting his head this way and that as if searching for whatever had caused the building to shake.