Army of Angels

by Marcus Brown

  Feeling restored, Juliet lifted her arms and rose from the ground, levitating in mid-air. Public displays of her true power were rare for fear of being spied by a nosey neighbour, but her own vanity demanded a display of what she was capable of. Dusting herself off, she walked to the well and drew a pail of water and washed herself with it. Today she would summon Moloch.

  Pulled back to the present, Juliet smiled as she thought about little Florita, the little girl she’d fed from on her first visit to the island and the subsequent stories she’d created to keep people away. It pleased her enormously to think the story still caused fear amongst the locals.

  She knew more about the island than she would ever admit to another living soul. Florita wasn’t the only child to die at Juliet’s hands–the newspaper story of the little girl’s body she’d dumped in the canals was infamous, as was Don Julian Santana, self-appointed guardian of the Island. He discovered the body, convinced the spirit of the drowned child walked the island. Juliet did nothing to make people think otherwise – the ruse had served her well. She’d found the island quite by chance whilst travelling at the turn of the last century and even she didn’t know how important a role it would play.

  The place was now overrun with dolls of all shapes and sizes – porcelain and plastic dolls hanging from the trees or stuck on poles in the ground. It had become something of a freak show for visiting tourists, but she thought it delightfully macabre and giggled to herself as she remembered how tasty the meals had always been while she was there–the taste of the salty blood as it filled her throat, and the fear she instilled in her victims made her smile. That was always an added extra when it came to meal times – somehow, it made their blood even tastier. Juliet recalled Florita once more, struggling to reach her own doll, remembering how she’d cried for it as the blood was drained slowly from her little body.

  The memories excited her and taking the doll as a gift for Maisie was a stroke of genius, and luck.

  Juliet had never renounced what she was, especially for the sake of marrying a mortal, therefore, her magic was stronger than Samantha’s had ever been. She wielded untold power, so binding Florita’s tormented soul to Maisie’s doll was easy. Little did she know what that one act of evil would bring about.

  Chapter Three

  PRESENT DAY

  The day was sunny and warm.

  Sandra and Hilary sat goggle-eyed in front of the television – tears of laughter streaming down their faces at their favourite show, Mrs Brown’s Boys.

  “I’m gonna wet myself, Sand.” Hilary choked on her words. “I’ve never seen anything so funny.”

  Sandra shook her head and tutted. “I’m going to Boots tomorrow to buy you some TENA Lady,” she replied, obviously trying to keep a straight face. “You’ve got the bladder of an eighty-year old woman.”

  “You bloody dare,” she replied, horrified. “And I’ll glue them to your car.”

  They both erupted into uncontrollable laughter.

  “Either that…” Sandra said, choking on her words, “…or I’m checking you into the local hospital to have your pelvic floor laminated.”

  Hilary roared with laughter, clutching her sides. “Never mind Mrs Brown, you should have your own show.”

  “I’d be great,” Sandra joked.

  “I wouldn’t go that far, Sand. I was just being polite.”

  “Cheeky bitch.” She punched Hilary gently on the arm. “They broke the mould when you were born, Hils.”

  “There’s only one of me and you know it,” she proudly announced.

  “Thank Christ for that.” Sandra turned her attentions back to the television.

  Hilary shook her head and poked at her ear.

  “Are you okay?” Sandra asked. “Is your ear bothering you again?”

  Hilary looked at Sandra and smiled, trying to focus her vision. Now, she rubbed at her eyes, trying to clear the spots dancing about.

  “No. My eyes have gone funny again,” she said. “I can’t see you very well.”

  “I’m right here.”

  Her heart began to pound in her chest. She could feel the beads of sweat forming on her forehead. “Sand, where are you?” Hilary rubbed at her eyes once again, trying to clear her vision. She was scared–this was happening more and more lately. Hilary opened her eyes.

  Her heart sank into the pit of her stomach.

  Tim was snoring next to her.

  She burst into tears, heartbroken all over again–it was always the same dream.

  Chapter Four

  Hilary made her way down the stairs, flopping onto the big squashy sofa. She wrapped her arms around her knees and sobbed uncontrollably. The dreams always felt so real–for that small moment in time, they were together again. But every time she opened her eyes and Sandra wasn’t there, it felt like another piece of her heart had died.

  Sandra had vanished without a trace six months before and not a day passed by when Hilary didn’t think about her and wonder what had happened.

  The unknown was the hardest part of it all.

  Though she didn’t want to think the worst, if Sandra was dead, there would be a funeral and she could grieve and feel better equipped to move on with her own life. It would be hard but being in this constant state of limbo was unbearable.

  Night after night following Sandra’s disappearance, Hilary woke from disturbed sleep soaked in sweat. Carefully sliding from under the covers so as to avoid another confrontation with Tim, she would sneak out of the bedroom and make her way downstairs. Once downstairs, she pulled the same old photo album from the bookshelf and sat silently staring at pictures of happier times. Losing herself in memories was the only thing that helped settle her waking thoughts until she was exhausted, and sleep claimed her once again.

  The memories of good times were bittersweet, but it was all she had left.

  Hilary had already begun to forget the sound of Sandra’s voice, but she’d never forget her kind and beautiful face.

  Earlier that day and against Tim’s wishes, she’d visited the police station. Now a familiar face there, the Desk Sergeant rolled his eyes as she walked through the electric doors.

  After six months, and almost daily visits, they no longer took her seriously.

  “Mrs Baines, there are no further developments with this case,” the Desk Sergeant advised her. “I told you the same thing yesterday,” he said, impatiently. “And the day before that.” He puffed out his cheeks. “Mrs Miller has not been located, but that doesn’t mean she won’t be.” His patience was wearing thin. “If or when that happens, in the absence of next of kin, you will be the first to know.”

  “You need to go back to that house. She’s there, I know it.”

  “There is no just cause for us to return and bother Miss Oswell again. You know we have investigated the property and surrounding areas, but apart from her mobile phone and fingerprints throughout the downstairs area, there was no trace of her. Your friend was seen walking along the lane with a male companion – perhaps she decided to leave with him?”

  “The same man that lives in the grounds of that house.”

  “We checked and there was nobody else living in the property, or the grounds.”

  “Then if she did run away with this man, why would she leave her phone there?”

  “Mrs Baines, we’ve been through this, many times before.”

  “Yeah, yeah, you all think Sandra smashed the windows after some sort of breakdown, and she’s run away. That isn’t the Sandra I know.”

  “With respect, people with mental health issues don’t always behave the way we expect them to.”

  “So, you’ll do nothing.”

  “There isn’t anything more we can do, but as always, if you hear of anything, be sure to call us right away.”

  Hilary stormed out of the police station in tears.

  “Fuck you, Rachel Lang,” she cursed. “I hope you’re burning in hell.”

  Rachel gave the story to Sandra, knowing there
was no way she would have turned down the story about Promised Land Lane, especially after Sarah had vanished there.

  Months ago, against Tim’s wishes, she’d returned to the lane to search for Sandra herself. Terrified of what she would find, she crept down the side of the house. The garden looked beautiful, with wild flowers and a serene atmosphere. A far cry from when she was last there. She sat in the grass and waited for hours, praying Sandra would magically appear and make everything alright again.

  “Why didn’t I listen to her?” Hilary buried her face in her hands and sobbed, wishing she could turn back the clock and listen when Sandra tried to tell her what had been going on. She knew her friend wasn’t a liar, but everything to do with the house on the lane had seemed so far-fetched and unbelievable. Now she wasn’t sure what to believe, but the guilt had been eating away at her for months and showed no sign of abating. She felt as though she’d failed Sandra, but what made it harder was, had the roles been reversed, Sandra would have supported her to the very end, regardless of what anybody else had to say.

  Hilary pulled a picture from her coat pocket and stared at it. It was taken the day they went ice skating. It wasn’t her idea of fun, but as usual, Sandra led the way, causing havoc, and she dutifully followed.

  Chapter Five

  “Same dream again, huh?”

  She turned around, startled to see Tim Standing in the doorway. “Yeah, but it always ends the same way.”

  He walked toward her. “Come on, Hilary, this has to stop now – you’re worn out, look at you.”

  “You don’t look so hot yourself,” she snapped, not meaning what she’d just said. He looked dog tired, but no matter the time, he looked as handsome as ever.

  “Come back to bed, try and get some rest. All this fretting and worrying isn’t doing you any good at all.” He looked at her and smiled, trying to mask his concern. “Come on, I’ll tickle your back until you fall asleep.”

  “You don’t understand what she means to me, Tim.”

  “How long have we been married for?” He raised both eyebrows.

  “Too long,” she joked, trying to sever the tense atmosphere. “I know what you’re going to say, but I can’t settle until I find out what happened to her.”

  “I feel the same way you do, Hilary.” Tears filled his eyes. “I miss her too, even if it does kill me to admit it, but if I know Sandra, she’ll be making mischief somewhere.”

  Hilary nodded, wanting nothing more than to believe what he was telling her. “She used to get us into terrible trouble.” She laughed, remembering their hijinks. “I’d give anything for just one more day of trouble.”

  Tim chuckled. “I’ve never forgotten the day you both ended up head first in that lake.”

  Hilary burst out laughing. It felt good to laugh again, to remember the good times, but she felt enormous guilt at the same time. Smiling, the memories of that glorious hot day came flowing back to her.

  “You know I’ll break my neck if you let go.”

  Sandra rolled her eyes. “You’re a bloody Brown Owl. Haven’t you got a badge for this sort of thing?”

  “Funnily enough.” Hilary stood, hand on hip. Her voice took on a haughty tone. “My agility badge doesn’t take into account my abilities to rollerblade.”

  “Oh, my God, why am I still friends with you?” Sandra teased.

  “Because everyone else hates you, that’s why,” Hilary joked. “I’m the only one who’ll put up with you.”

  “If I had a heart, I’d be upset.” Sandra stood up, perfectly balanced. “Are you ready, or do you need me to go and buy you a set of stabilizers?”

  “Sarky cow.” Hilary tried not to laugh. “No, I’m bloody well not ready. I’m shitting myself. You know I’ve got no sense of balance.”

  “I’ll hold your hand and you’ll be fine.” Sandra held out her hand. “Jesus, Hils, not so tight. I wanna use that hand again.”

  “Sorry.”

  “We’re not even moving yet.” Sandra tried to shake Hilary’s hand off.

  Hilary loosened her grip. “Okay, but don’t rush me though.”

  “Rush you–you’re kidding me. Right? By the time we get going it’ll be too dark to see anything.”

  “Stop harassing me, I just need to put my new helmet on.” Hilary plonked it on her head.

  Sandra burst out laughing. “You look a right twat...”

  “I beg your pardon,” Hilary interrupted. “Do you have to be so vulgar?” She fastened the chin straps tightly, ignoring the roasting.

  “Pardon me, your Ladyship.”

  “Oh, piss off.” She fiddled with the strap under her chin.

  Sandra bent double, laughing hysterically, choking on her words. “Fucking hell, Hils, I’ve seen it all now.”

  “What?” Hilary snapped, clueless as to what had amused Sandra so much.

  “Only you’d be daft enough to buy a baby pink safety helmet. You look like a bloody dildo on wheels.”

  “You’re not funny, Sandra Miller.” An image fluttered into Hilary’s mind and she tried to stifle her own laughter–not wanting to encourage any further roasting.

  “Oh, I must be in trouble if you’re using my full name. Right, we’re off–come on, and stop arsing about.”

  “Hang on, I just need to put these kneepads on.”

  Sandra shook her head. “You’re only a couple of inches off the ground for Christ sake. You’ll be fine.”

  “You said that when you made me go ice skating and look what happened. You took off like Jayne Torvill at the Winter Olympics and I looked as graceful as a muppet.”

  Sandra snorted like a pig and covered her mouth. Her face was bright red, and Hilary knew she was trying her hardest not to laugh again. “Best day. EVER,” Sandra said.

  “Shut it you, it’s not funny.” Hilary was dying to laugh.

  “It was amazing,” Sandra cackled. “Forrest Gump would have looked more graceful on ice than you did, and that’s with his callipers on.” Sandra couldn’t control herself any longer and bent over again, screeching with laughter.

  Hilary sat stony faced, trying not to look amused. “I’m not laughing–it wasn’t funny.”

  “Then why do you look like your gonna shit yourself. Stop trying to hold it in. You know it was bloody hysterical.”

  “There was nothing hysterical about it–I shot across that ice rink like a bleeding rocket.” Her voice broke as she choked back the laugh threatening to erupt from her. “How many people did I knock over?”

  Tears of laughter ran down Sandra’s cheeks, leaving tracks in her makeup. “About a hundred I think,” she said, cackling with laughter. “I’ve never seen you move so fast.”

  “I was banned from ever going back there, Sand. It was so embarrassing.”

  “It was bloody funny though, just admit it.”

  “Maybe a little bit,” Hilary tittered. “I’m glad I amuse you so much though.”

  “I’d be lost without you–you’re the clumsiest, funniest person I know.”

  Hilary shook her head. She knew how warped her friend’s sense of humour was, and both knew they were cut from the same cloth. That’s why they were such good friends.

  “Right, if you don’t move your arse, I’m going without you.”

  “That might be a good thing,” Hilary replied.

  “It’s a public park, what damage can you possibly do?”

  “That’s what I’m afraid of,” Hilary said.

  “I’ll be right next to you. We’ll skate round the lake, it’s nice and flat there.”

  “But we’ve gotta get down this hill first. Why didn’t you park at the bottom and we could have had a go on the flat first, get me used to these damn things?” Hilary stood up, trying to correct her balance, her arms outstretched as though she was about to complete a wire walk.

  Sandra stared at her friend, struggling to control the laughter. “Hils, don’t, or I’ll piss myself.”

  “What now?” Hilary yelled. “It’s the only
way I can balance.” She staggered forward but Sandra caught her before she landed face first. “See, I’m terrible.”

  “Just grab my hand and let’s go. After three. One, two…”

  “Don’t count,” Hilary shrieked. ‘You’ll put me off.”

  “God help me,” Sandra said, raising her eyes to the heavens. “Come on, it’ll be dark by the time we’ve done one lap and my thighs are in desperate need of this exercise.”

  “Oh, knock it off, Sand, there’s nothing of you.”

  “You’re kidding. if I put any more weight on, I’ll have to buy my knickers from Big ‘n’ Bouncy in town.”

  “Shut it, you’re stunning.” Hilary rolled her eyes. “Now, let’s get going. I’m ready,” she said, unconvincingly.

  “Are you sure now?” Sandra asked, hesitantly. “Because once we get going, we’re not stopping.”

  “Yes, go before I change my mind.”

  Sandra grabbed Hilary’s hand and moved off slowly, leading the way.

  “Stopppppp!” Hilary squawked. “You’re going too fast,”

  “A three-legged dog could run faster than we’re moving,” Sandra protested. “Just shut your gob and keep tight hold.”

  “Okay.” She closed her eyes and put the other hand out, signalling which way she was going to turn.

  “Open your eyes and watch where you’re going, Hils, or we’ll end up in that hedge over there.”

  Hilary opened her eyes. Her legs were shaking. They were gaining momentum.

  “See, you’re fine,” Sandra said, reassuringly.

  In a blind panic, Hilary shrieked. “Don’t let go.”

  “You’ve got stoppers on your skates. Use them if you think we’re going too fast but give me some warning first or we’ll both end up arse over tit.”

  They were building speed. Hilary was hating every minute of it, but she could see Sandra was loving the adventure. She was amazed she hadn’t landed on her arse up to now and silently thanked Tim for talking her into buying the helmet.