Ethan glanced up as Mrs Mae emerged from the treeline. The ache in the pit of his stomach intensified. Her once ice-white dress was awash with blood, streaks and splashes adorned the front. She had definitely lost her sex appeal. Her red hair looked wild, dancing freely in the morning breeze. She carried some branches that she had collected from the woods. She cradled them in front of her body and absentmindedly made her way to where Ethan was secured.
She bent down and placed the wood around his feet. She continued to do this for the next twenty minutes, never once glancing in Ethan's direction. Soon there was a plentiful stock of wood and kindling covering the base of the tree stacked up to the height of his ankles.
Only then, completely satisfied did Mrs Mae look into Ethan's eyes, with a twisted smile she said, ‘To be reborn, you must first return to the earth in a state of absolute purity.’
Sermon delivered, she turned and retreated, leaving Ethan no last chance to plead for his life. She turned back to face him, crossed her arms against her chest and closed her eyes.
This is it, thought Ethan, as a single tear ran down his cheek.
Dominic appeared, barefoot but still dressed in the same dark black robe. The thick hood was pulled over his head, hiding his eyes from view. A six-inch silver crucifix dangled from his neck. He held the crucifix in front of him as he advanced slowly, mumbling under his breath.
As he drew closer, Ethan could make out the words that were drunkenly chanted.
‘Deliver me o mighty Satan from all past error and delusion, fill me with truth, wisdom and understanding, keep me strong in my faith and service, that I may abide always in thee with praise and honour and glory be given thee forever and ever.’
As if her spell had been broken, Mrs Mae opened her eyes and began walking towards Ethan. She produced a lethal-looking knife. The small but deadly looking blade glinted in the morning sunlight.
Ethan went rigid.
Mrs Mae held the knife in front of Ethan's face; close up, it looked more lethal than it had initially appeared. Mrs Mae leant in close, and Ethan snapped his eyes firmly shut, prepared for the inevitable.
He felt a sharp nick against his neck which immediately began to sting. His eyes automatically fluttered open. Looking down he could see a small stream of fresh blood trickling down onto his chest.
Mrs Mae produced a clear vial and caught the blood inside, unconcerned with the sticky mess that covered her fingers as it seeped free.
Dominic looked at Mrs Mae in admiration and nodded his head. He took a few steps towards the campfire and bent down, picking up a large branch with bundled wet rags taped securely to the top. He placed the cloths in the fire.
Whoof! The rags ignited instantly. Mesmerised, Dominic stared at the dancing flames for a few seconds.
Unable to take any more of the barbaric torture, Ethan could feel his body shutting down with shock. He wanted it to end. He wanted it to end right now. His head flopped down onto his chest.
Through teary eyes, Ethan glanced up for one last time. Everything was spinning and becoming foggy. The smoke bit into his eyes and attacked his throat. He shook his head slightly and corrected himself. Someone was coming. Someone was finally coming to rescue him.
Unsure of why or how, Ethan recognised Clive Charles, the Head of Sixth Form, sprinting towards him. Dominic and Mrs Mae were unaware of his appearance. He covered the short distance in less than thirty seconds with a look of pure anger and determination etched onto his face.
Closing in on them he withdrew a foot-long, ancient-looking hatchet from the inside his jacket. He held it confidently in one hand and continued forwards.
Suddenly the birds ceased their concert in the trees and the air fell strangely silent.
Dominic turned around at the last moment. Clive Charles swung upwards with the hatchet and it instantly engaged with Dominic’s neck, penetrating through the soft fleshy skin. No sound came from Dominic's mouth. He was spun around three hundred and sixty degrees and came to rest on the floor as blood bubbled from his exposed windpipe. The lit branch fell from his grasp, allowing the fire to peter out in seconds.
A shocked Mrs Mae turned when she heard the thud of the body hitting the floor. There was no stopping Clive Charles as his momentum carried him forwards. Blindly lashing out, the hatchet became embedded in her flat stomach.
Clive Charles released his grip from the hatchet and stood back. With a look of utter confusion Mrs Mae stared blankly at her wound. She looked up and was just about to speak when a faint trickle of blood emerged from the side of her mouth.
His hands were shaking uncontrollably as Clive Charles reached Ethan and he clumsily untied the rope. Ethan fell forwards into the protective body of Clive Charles.
Sure that Ethan was safe and not seriously hurt, he gently prodded him forwards and shouted.
‘Run, Ethan, as fast as you can. Run for your life.’
Chapter 13
Ethan needed no encouragement and sprinted off in the direction of the woods.
He paused for a second to catch his breath when he reached the treeline; his heart was pounding as he looked ahead. There was no trail for him to follow.
Undeterred, he headed off into the trees and bushes, ignoring the sharp thorns that dug into his face, tearing into his flesh. A few scratches were the least of his problems. He would worry about those later. Right now, he just needed to keep on running.
Soon the light began to improve and he exited onto the same field that they had originally arrived at.
The hideous camper van was fifty metres to his left and what could only be Clive Charles’ car, an ageing grey Volvo, was parked right behind it.
Jumping into the front seat of Clive’s car, Ethan let out a massive sigh of relief. He knew he had come close to being killed, and the thought terrified him. Strapped to the tree, watching everything unfold, he had re-evaluated his choice of lifestyle. Perhaps being a goth wasn't for him, after all. Life was short, life was for the living. Maybe, if he made more of an effort, he would be able to fit in easier. It had become tiresome being the odd one out. He was now ready to make some real friends, something his life had been devoid of for such a long time. If Alex and Zoe had still been alive today, he was sure that they would welcome him with open arms after what they had shared together.
Thinking of poor Alex and Zoe brought the dark memories flooding back. He was cold and scared, still a child and desperate to be back home in his mother's loving arms. Ethan smiled, knowing how happy she would be when he revealed his change in lifestyle. He was sure she would drag him off to the Metro Centre to kit him out with some trendy new clothes, something she had always dreamed of doing.
Clive Charles entered the car and strapped his seat belt on. Panting, he asked,
‘You OK, Ethan?'
Ethan merely nodded. Clive Charles turned on the ignition which coughed and spluttered into life.
Ethan turned around in his seat to check through the rear window that they weren't being followed, even though he was sure that after witnessing Mrs Mae and Dominic's violent slaying, that it was highly unlikely. They were both dead, they had to be, no one could survive such a brutal assault.
Telling himself that he was being paranoid and to calm down, his eyes fell upon an open black holdall that was placed on the backseat. Sticking through the opening was an obscure headpiece that looked to be made from animal skin and horn, tassels and feathers hung over the side. That startled him but it was the unmistakable glint of a sword blade poking through the top of the bag that made his heart sink to his stomach.
He heard the click of the electronic locks as they were shut. The tiny reserve of energy he had left dispersed from his body. He turned back to face forwards and, filled with dread, detected that instead of heading back towards Allendale and eventually to the road that would ultimately take them home, they were heading deeper and deeper into the countryside.
Clive Charles turned to face Ethan.
With excitement in his eyes, he said the words that filled Ethan with dread.
‘I have a new site, Ethan, somewhere that is more suited for my offering.’
Ethan heard a metallic noise. Looking down he saw that Clive Charles was holding a small handgun. He held it with one hand, the menacing-looking barrel directed towards Ethan as he led them through the narrow country roads.
Ethan slumped back in his chair and looked out morosely. He had tried his best, he honestly thought that he had done enough, but for the love of God, he could not see himself getting out of this.
The End
Words from the Author
My sincere thanks to everyone who has purchased and read this book.
I hope you enjoyed reading this novella as much as I enjoyed writing it. Even better if you were a little scared at times. It would be good if you could let me know your favourite tale. Plans are already afoot for more horror stories. Watch this space.
Please do leave a review for the book at Amazon. Not only will this help other readers, it is also the most important thing you can do to assist me.
If anyone wants to contact me about the book, or indeed writing in general, please email me at:
[email protected]
and I promise to respond as quickly as I can.
Thank you all again.
Craig Wrightson
About the Author
Craig Wrightson is 47 years old and from Northumberland in the UK.
A book lover since childhood, Craig has always dreamt of becoming an author.
In 2015 after having completed a novel-writing training course, he took the big step in writing his debut novel, A Step into Darkness, which took nearly two years to complete. This is now available on Amazon and has gained plenty of 5 star reviews.
In between writing Craig has set up his own author website www.laughcryandwrite.com to allow readers to find out more about him and to offer advice and tips on all things writing.
The author has used his experiences gained from growing up and working in Newcastle on the River Tyne and from his time working overseas.
Craig Wrightson, when not writing, editing or researching new topics, likes walking, cooking (claims to be a good, but extremely messy, chef), and watching crime thrillers and comedy series.
My Other Books
A Step into Darkness - A UK Crime Thriller with a Twist.
Available here - https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B087D854MK/
From the Toon to the Trenches - A Long Lost Journal from the Trenches of WW1.
Available here - https://www.amazon.co.uk/dp/B07MQFSN65/
Coming Soon
A Silent Scream - The First in the New DS Ford and DS McEwen Series.
Fragmented Evil Page 22