Blood of the Forsaken

by David Horrocks

  Aaron shrugged. “I have no idea…”

  It was obvious that Tommy was mad about Sam getting away as he started pacing back and forth across the alley. “How the fuck does someone just vanish like that?”

  Tommy was extremely dedicated. Aaron had never met anyone else with the same level of determination as his friend. They had survived against impossible odds together and both of them had become stronger because of it. Each of them had their quirks and differences, often getting into fights, but they knew that they would be friends right up until the end. Nothing was more important to them than their loyalty to each other. Aaron understood the motivation that pushed Tommy forwards, but he also knew that he had to be the voice of reason. It was his job to protect his friend from himself, making sure that he took time to rest and recuperate. Without him, Tommy would likely forget to sleep and would push himself to the point of collapse.

  “That's what we're here to find out...” Aaron tried to soothe his friend by thinking logically. “Let's regroup and come up with a new plan of action. A little more research could help too.” His tactic seemed to be working as Tommy began to slow down a little.

  Tommy had been a happy go lucky guy once upon a time, with no responsibilities and not a care in the world. That was until the day that he met Christie Reece. They had a special connection that Aaron was admittedly envious of. Everything that she went through in life, Tommy went through it with her. Both of them had suffered through her ordeal at the farmhouse and he had been the one to help her get through the aftermath.

  Tommy’s on and off relationship with Christie through the years hadn't been the easiest thing for him to deal with either. It was a raging river of heated emotion that was impossible to control until the day that Christie died and Tommy lost almost everything. Suspicious circumstances, they said. Being accused of murder had almost broken the poor man, and the way the cops had treated him in jail… Aaron was sure that he wouldn't have made it through the ordeal if the same thing had happened to him. Tommy was definitely the strongest of them, but he still needed friendship and support.

  Something small bit Aaron’s neck, causing him to slap at it absentmindedly. He pulled his hand away and looked down at his palm. Squashed flat against his skin, a mosquito twitched as it hemorrhaged blood. That was the last straw, he wanted to go back to the motel and plan their next move. Aaron had had enough of Florida for one day. “Come on, let’s go.”

  “No way, dude. We almost fuckin’ had him!” Tommy scowled. He was never happy giving up on the hunt when they were so close.

  Aaron looked his friend directly in the eyes and spoke with tired frustration. “It’s hot, I’m tired and the insects are having a feast!”

  It was clear from his increasingly relaxed posture that Tommy wasn’t going to argue about it this time. He must have realised that he felt the exact same way now his rush of adrenaline was wearing off. “Fine… but you’re buying the first round.”

  **********

  It was dark when Sam finally decided to emerge from his hiding place beneath the pavement, having wedged himself into a storm drain under the main street. He didn’t want to risk being spotted again by whoever the men were that had chased him from his parent’s home. They clearly knew more about him than he knew about them, but that didn't matter as long as he could stay one step ahead of them.

  Sam didn't know where he was walking to at first, hobbling down the dark streets of the neighbourhood. He was on autopilot as the hunger began to rise inside of him once more. He hadn't fed since arriving in town, in fact he hadn't eaten since that night in Birchfield and he seemed to be paying for it now. His stomach hurt and his head was getting cloudy. He needed sustenance soon or he would lose control to the voice that lurked in the back of his mind.

  It wasn't until he had arrived that Sam realised where his hunger had taken him, his face and hands pressed up against the cooling glass of the window as the heat dissipated in the night. He could see his parents in the living room, cuddled up together on the couch. It looked as though the baby had been put to bed as they sat there enjoying each other's company. They seemed to be having a serious conversation, most likely about what had occurred in that very place just a few hours prior.

  At first it wasn't clear to Sam why his legs had taken him there until a stabbing pain reminded him of his need to feed. He had been drawn there like a moth to the flame, staring into a house that felt familiar to him, yet strange at the same time. He knew that it was stupid to return to the scene, but he couldn't resist. All he had to do was open the door and walk inside where he would be greeted with open arms. His parents had always loved him and he had loved them too, but now they were just food. From where Sam stood, all he could see was easy prey. He knew that his mom and dad would be happy to see him and they wouldn't realise what was going on until it was too late. He could bite down upon their flesh and drain them dry without much of a struggle.

  The anticipation was difficult to ignore. Sam couldn't wait for the coppery taste of blood to trickle down his throat and fill him with a burst of power that currently seemed to be waning. He wanted to feel that renewed vigor flowing through his veins, his whole body screamed out for it. He desired that sweet liquid more than anything he could remember, and something about that fierce craving suddenly scared him.

  “No! Wait!” Sam wasn’t sure if it had been a voice inside his head, or if he had spoken the words out loud, but it quickly brought him back to his senses.

  How could he think about his parents that way? Sam felt a sense of self loathing and disgust at even considering his parents as nothing more than a quick and easy meal. In that moment he knew that he couldn't have a normal life with them as they would always be at risk. What if he couldn't stop himself? He would lose two of the people who meant more to him than his own life, and he would leave his sister without parents. Or worse, she would grow up and he would kill her too. Sam knew that he was a monster to even have looked at them that way. It seemed that his humanity was getting dangerously close to being snuffed out.

  Stepping away from the window, Sam fought back the hunger, trying his best to keep it at bay. He had to get as far away from there as he could, and so he decided to run away. With no destination in mind and knowing nothing of the local area, he just picked a direction and ran. He would keep going until either his body gave up or until the morning sun burned him so badly that it wasn’t possible for him to keep going. Sam swore in that moment that he would never put a member of his family in harm's way again. It was better that they believed he was still dead and that they never saw him again. Samuel Mitchell, for all intents and purposes, no longer existed. It was better for everyone that way.

  Chapter Five: Skeletons in the closet.

  It was the same dream that haunted Aaron night after night. That same childhood memory where he stood, a little boy once more within the darkness of the bathroom. It was the place where the wet footprints ended, the same place that they always led him and where they always would. It was in that very room where such a terrible act had once been carried out with such malice that it ripped a hole in the world. It left a tear in the very fabric of the veil that separated the living from the dead. There had been consequences to those actions, and a secret that was left to be uncovered. It was a somber tale lost in the sands of time, and yet the story hadn't ended there. It had only just begun.

  The only source of light within that pitch black room was a faint, green glow that barely shone through a narrow gap beneath the door. However, Aaron’s attention wasn't focused towards the light, but to what hid beyond the shadows. He found himself being drawn away from the doorway and up to where the the light was reflected back. The object that beckoned to him was a mirror set in the wall above the ceramic sink. The mirror’s glass was clouded with condensation, the centre of which had been marked with a small handprint, the shape pressed upon its smooth surface.

  Stepping up onto a wooden stool to gaze into the reflection, Aaron could see
that the image was all wrong. Although he could still see himself within it, the room on the other side was strangely different. The wallpaper wasn’t quite right, with an old flowery pattern that had begun to peel instead of the plain painted walls that his parents had chosen. A single light bulb hung from the center of the ceiling, filling the mirrored world with a flickering light that gave birth to a feeling of unease.

  Quivering with fear, Aaron reached over the sink to lightly touch the mirror, placing his own hand on the cold glass. As his palm rested against the surface, the room around him seemed to shift. It felt as though he was being drawn into the reflection and through to the other side. He soon found himself in the mirror world, the same peeling wallpaper and erratic bulb swaying from the ceiling as its power fluctuated at irregular intervals.

  As he turned to face the room behind him, Aaron could see that the empty space had been filled with a large, antique bathtub. It was full to the brim with murky waters that began to overflow and spill onto the stained tiles of the bathroom floor. Unable to resist his own curiosity, he overcame his fears and stepped down from the relative safety of the stool where his bare feet met icy cold water. The chill moved up from his feet and spread throughout his body, sending shivers up his spine. As unsettling as it was, he continued to walk through the expanding pool of water towards the bathtub beyond, its faucet still running as it continued to top itself up with a seemingly endless supply.

  As he made his approach, Aaron found that the water in the bathtub was so thick with scum that he was unable to see much at all beneath the surface. It wasn’t until he reached the side of of the tub that he could see the shape of something lurking below. Skimming the surface with his hand, he cleared off a layer of unidentifiable slime that had made it impossible to see any deeper. It clung to his fingers, refusing to give as he made a vague attempt to shake it off.

  The opening Aaron had made allowed him to see clearly what had previously been obscured from view. Somewhere deep beneath the ripples in the water was the face of the same girl that he had seen night after night for years. She lay motionless at the bottom, her long hair spread out around her with arms outstretched as she called for help from beyond the grave. Aaron couldn’t hear her cries, as they were drowned out by the decades that separated them, and yet he still felt compelled to come to her aid.

  Trying his best to reach down into the frigid depths, Aaron quickly found that his arms were too short to reach the girl who stared at him, eyes wide and full of despair. He was so close to her, yet too far to take her hand. The tips of their fingers brushed, but he couldn’t stretch far enough to take hold. Refusing to give in, he leaned over the edge and plunged his head underneath the water, his shoulders following close behind. It was then that he felt the push of someone much bigger and stronger than him, forcing him downwards. Into the bath he fell, sinking fast as he was pushed deeper and deeper.

  Fighting to break free, Aaron found that he had lost sight of the girl. He looked around frantically, but she was nowhere to be seen. It seemed that he had taken her place and now found himself submerged within the bathtub instead. He kicked and screamed in a panic, but his actions only served to replace the air in his lungs with a liquid that would soon steal his life away. He couldn’t break free, but he did manage to turn to look up at the contorted face of the man who held him there, eyes full of resentment and rage. It was the violent face of a killer, a man that he had seen before and of whom he now found himself the helpless victim.

  The bleak waters of the bathtub washed away, leaving Aaron upright as he stood dripping at the threshold of a narrow set of stairs that led down into the basement. He blinked, staring down into the gloomy underbelly of the otherworldly house. The chill still remained, yet he found that he was able to breathe once more. It was then that a haunting voice addressed him from somewhere down below, yet the words were foreign. Aaron couldn’t make sense of of what was being said, but he knew that he was meant to seek out its origin.

  Beginning the descent, it was clear that the stairwell hadn’t been used in some time as thick cobwebs hung from the ceiling, catching in Aaron’s hair as he passed under them. As if that wasn’t enough, he also noticed that the walls seemed to shift away from him as if they detected his presence. However they didn’t move as a whole, instead skittering away in every direction as if they were made from a thousand insects. They seemed to swarm around him on all sides, infesting the entire place while still maintaining their distance.

  Aaron tried to get a closer look at the insects, but they scattered, quickly disappearing between the cracks in the stairs. Even though he couldn't see them anymore, he could still hear thousands of tiny feet crawling around beneath him. As troubling as that was, they appeared to be as scared of him as he was of them.

  Aaron couldn’t shake the feeling that something was crawling on him, making its way down his neck and back. He kept stopping to check himself, but couldn’t find anything on him at all. There was nothing he could do but ignore it, telling himself that he just had to get down to the basement floor. Quickening his pace, he took multiple steps at a time as he tried his best to shorten the trip. It wasn’t much longer before he had made it to the bottom, trading the hard wood of the stairs for the softer floor of compact dirt.

  Aaron’s parents hadn’t been aware of the basement when they bought the house, as it was hidden behind a secret door in the pantry and he had been the first to make the discovery. The spirit of the girl had originally led him to it and he now found himself there once more. There were no solid foundations or concrete down in the dark, just compressed soil and old beams that held up the structure above. The room itself was bare, with no furniture to fill its vast emptiness. It had likely been used for storage at some point, but had since been forgotten about and left to rot.

  As barren as the room looked, there was something down there that had been hidden away within the ground. Aaron wouldn’t have even noticed it if it hadn’t been for the mud that marked the spot, bubbling away in the furthest corner. For some reason the soil there was wet, as something seeped up from below.

  As Aaron walked closer, the form of the girl shimmered in to view, her head lowered and facing away from him as she stared down at the patch on the floor. As disconcerting as that was, he sensed no malevolence from her. There was no evil intent. She may have been a spirit, but she was seemingly innocent and as much a victim as him. The ghost shuddered to life and pointed down at the mud, whimpering quietly to herself as it continued to bubble away. The knee length dress that she wore was saturated with the same dirt-drenched water from the bathtub upstairs and smelled rife with disease.

  As Aaron grew closer, the girl slowly turned to face him. Her skin was pale and swollen, with blank eyes that stared directly in to his soul. “Are… are you okay?” He spoke timidly, not wanting to spook the little girl as he crept towards her.

  Tilting her head to one side, the spirit opened her mouth to speak, and with each word a torrent of water spilled from her mouth as she cried for help. “Help… me…” She seemed to move with very little balance or control, shifting from one leg to the other as she waited for Aaron to approach.

  Moving with caution, Aaron felt goosebumps break out across his body as an unnatural chill spread through the room, originating from where the girl was standing. He could see the breath escaping from between his lips as it turned to vapor in the icy air. His mouth was left feeling dry, as if all the moisture had been drawn from it by the freezing temperature.

  “I want to help you... Tell me how!” Aaron genuinely wanted to help, speaking to the apparition through chapped lips, but the girl didn't answer. She just continued to cry softly as she stared downwards with blank eyes.

  As he got within arms reach, mere steps away from the mucky pool, Aaron extended his hand towards the girl in an attempt to comfort her. However, his fingers touched nothing but air, his entire arm passing through her as if she wasn't there. Freezing on the spot, he realised that she didn’t hav
e a physical presence, but he could still see her as clear as day. As terrified as he was by her lack of substance, he wouldn't allow himself to leave. Aaron had to stay and help her in any way that he possibly could. The feeling of apprehension subsided after a few seconds, allowing him to move once more.

  Aaron followed the girl’s gaze, looking down towards the expanding puddle at which she continued to stare. “Is something down there?” He desperately tried to get an answer, but the spirit remained stubbornly silent. She didn't seem to be hearing anything that he said, as if she wasn't actually there and was just an old recording going through the motions. Perhaps the apparition didn’t possess a consciousness and was merely an echo of the past.

  Crouching in the dirt, knees just touching the edge of the puddle, Aaron began to dig at the ground with his fingers. He scooped up handfuls of mud that began to ooze out between his fingertips, dripping to the ground. With only a moment’s hesitation, he tossed the mud to the side and began to dig up more. It wasn't long before a pile started forming where he had been discarding each handful with increasing speed, the ghost’s constant sobbing causing him to work faster and faster. Whatever he found down there, he hoped that it would ease her pain. He would do anything just to help her and make her happy.

  Aaron’s fingertips hit something hard, his nails raking across its surface. The sensation seemed to harm the spirit, as her jaw opened wide releasing another torrent of water and an an ear piercing scream that penetrated his mind like needles through the brain. He panicked and pulled his hands out of the shallow hole, holding them to his ears as he tried to block out the sound. Raising his voice, he yelled over the noise, pleading with the girl for forgiveness. “I'm sorry! I didn't mean to hurt you!”