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The Rising

Mathew E C Bridle

Published by Mathew Bridle at Smashwords


Copyright 2010 Mathew E C Bridle

Find me at Smashwords

© 2010 Mathew E C Bridle. All rights reserved.

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THE RISING

A halo of soft golden light was falling beyond Shadow Hill as the last flickering rays of the evening sun slid slowly out of view bringing a hazy pall of mist over the darkening landscape. The sounds of the night were already beginning to rise into the night air. Now was the time for all things natural to beat a hasty retreat into whatever shelter could be found, for now was the time of darkness, the time of The Rising.

The night sounds were now filling the air, growing in volume, growing in anger, growing, rising with the darkness that nurtured them, that shielded their form, such as it was. For they were the creation of nightmares, each created from an individual person’s fears, phobias, and horrors grown from a lifetime’s experience, each of them a testament to their unknowing creators’ own warped imaginations.

Chapter one

Helmstown lay in a shallow valley, under the gaze of Shadow Hill. A small town of four thousand or so inhabitants, quiet, and sheltered from the worst of weather that was thrown up by the sea that lie to the west and to the east of the town by a heavy forest. To the north lay Elchester, a. real town with industry wealth and crime.

Helmstown was one of those towns that became favored by new young families with everything going their way, everything seemed rosy and right, nothing ever went wrong, or could possibly spoil the peaceful, sheltered paradise that was theirs. Only time and the children of the town would tell. For a small place Helmstown had it all schools, cinemas, hospitals and just about every amenity thinkable, everything but that certain something that made it home. Just about everyone that worked, worked in Elchester or Midham where there was more work on offer than there were takers, but every town has its bad points and Helmstown was no different, it was only a matter of time before Shadow Hill cast a shadow of its own across the tranquility of the town.

For some unknown reason the townsfolk had a quiet disliking for Shadow Hill, for it had a presence that brought a feeling of unease unto anyone who was foolhardy enough to wander under its canopy of interwoven branches that seemed to be suspended in the air itself and not actually connected to the surrounding trees. Whatever it was that the people were afraid of, none of them were going to admit that they were bothered by it, after all it was only a forest.

Night fell swiftly over the hill creating an impenetrable blanket of darkness, so heavy you could almost feel it, clinging like a black mucus. Images, somehow darker than the night itself, yet still remaining visible against the blackness of the void, were beginning to stir and growing restless at their confinement, yearning for sustenance, wanting to be one with their creators. Many of them would try to break free from the hill but were un-nerved by the orange glow that hung over the town as if it were some protective shield they could not breach. It was this and this alone that held back the horde, but they would find a way, a link, something that could lead them to their creators.

Chapter two

Lee Street was home to the Whalley family, a modest bungalow with wooden floors throughout, tastefully furnished with a few modern abstract paintings hung at angles to heighten their impact on the eye. Jean, a tall shapely, honey-blonde was reclining on the overly large sofa sipping at her coffee while she watched the tropical fish darting after each other for no apparent reason, Steve her husband of eight years was working late on the company accounts up in Midham some fifteen miles away as he did most Fridays. Sitting on the floor just in front of his mother was Daniel, playing, just like any other six year old boy, pushing his toy cars around the leg of the coffee table making screeching tyre noises as he slid the cars around on the smooth laminate surface, crashing them into each other with suppressed explosions, quietly in control of his own small world. Jean lowered her hand and ruffled the boy’s hair smiling as she did so, letting her mind drift back to earlier days before the advent of children.

Outside the offices of Deever and Sons Steve Whalley pulled up the collar of his trench coat to keep out the rising wind, he went over to his Mercedes and stopped to check the shadows. Was there something? He looked again, a chill ran through him. He shuddered as he got into the car. He checked around again hoping to dispel the feeling of unease was growing steadily as though he was being observed, watched by something. He started the engine and rolled the car out from his private parking space. Swinging the car to the right he made his way towards the main road, a quick look left and straight out, home in fifteen minutes.

Jean had fallen asleep with the empty coffee mug still warmly cupped in her hands. Daniel sat motionless barely breathing, a toy Mercedes in his left hand began to buckle and fold as his right hand began to ooze blood from around the fingernails, the blood dripped to the floor, seeping straight into the bare floor-boards, the house seemed to sigh, a deep, satisfying, hollow sigh.

Steve blinked and rubbed at his eyes, he felt tired, yawned, stretched out his arms releasing the wheel for a moment as he did so. The front wheel dipped into a pot hole in the road jerking the car into the oncoming traffic. The lights of the approaching car seared through his mind as it howled by, horn blaring like a demented ghost. He sat up with a start, all his senses returning to him in an instant as his right hand wing mirror exploded from the impact with the mirror from the approaching car. He let out a quick scream and looked out to where the remains of the wing mirror hung limply from its mount, swinging in the wind. He jerked his body upright, stamping on the brake as he tried to avoid a hitchhiker by the side of the road. The car came to a rapid halt the bonnet dipping slightly as it clipped the hiker's bag, spinning the hiker off of its feet. Steve stopped the car and got out to check the hiker, he looked into the road-side ditch and along the bank, but there was no-one to be found, he leaned back against the car wishing that the night could end, he drew in a long breath closing his eyes he let out a long slow sigh. Tipping his head back he drew another breath and allowed himself to slump forward, he opened his eyes slowly only to be met by the face of the hiker.

“Better now are we?” She asked, with just a hint of sarcasm.

“Ah, Jesus!” Steve replied, slipping to his knees barely keeping himself from collapsing completely, “Where the hell did you spring from?” he asked trembling.

“Well that is nice, run me down then have a go at me.” She looked him squarely in the eyes, “The name's Bill.” She offered out her hand, “Any chance of a lift?”

Steve took her hand and shook it lightly “Steve Whalley,” he said with a sigh “Where do you need a lift to?”

“Morgan Creek?” She replied.

“Morgan Creek! That's in Shadow Hill, why on earth would you want to go there?” He was more than a bit surprised by her choice of location “Wouldn't have thought anyone would go to a place with a reputation like that has, but, I’ll take you, it's not for me to say where anyone should be going.”

With that she was in the car with her seat belt on, she wound down the window to speak but Steve was already opening his door. He sat down heavily, sighed again and started up the car. They chatted idly as he drove her around the edge of Helmstown to Morgan Creek. She could sense his growing anxiety as they neared Shadow Hill but managed to keep herself from asking what was troubling him.

“You don't have to take me all the way to the creek, just leave me at Callow Point, I can walk from there.”

“What let you walk through those woods at night? No I, I’ll take you it's no problem,” he replied, “I'd rather that than leave you to the bogey man.” He said with a manic grin.

“Does the forest bother you at all?” she said, tilting her head slightly towards him and looking at him as though she were peering over the top of a pair of spectacles. As he looked at her from the comer of his left eye, he went cold and shuddered.

“Well, yeah I suppose so, it’s just that it always seems so dark in there, there are no flowers or animals, you hear so many stories about the place. It just gives me the creeps that’s all.” His tone was unsure so Bill pressed him no further.

“We're here'er”, she said mockingly, “Callow Point, and left”, sounding like a drill instructor.

“Sir yes sir”, Steve replied, sharp and straight. “And thank you, journeys’ end, it is,” He pulled over then leaned across to open her door, “Have a nice day.” “Thank you very much kind sir.” She closed the door and walked away into the dark embrace of the forest.

Steve turned the car around and headed for home, a little later than usual, but then it was not every day that he ran someone over.

Chapter three

He arrived home to find Jean still sleeping with her coffee cup. Daniel lay on the floor looking at the toy in his hand and smiling contentedly to himself. “Hey, what a welcome home,” Steve said in somewhat subdued voice “Great to see you. How was your day? Let me get your dinner. Fix it yourself. OK. No problemo, can do.” He went on as he made his way through the lounge to the kitchen waving his arms with every comment he made. He went to the fridge and took out a half eaten slice of pizza and a can of beer, he held the pizza in his mouth while he opened the beer. Daniel was tugging at his trouser leg.

“Daddy, daddy, daddy, daddy,” Daniel was excitedly saying, “Up, up, UUUP,” he insisted, with his arms raised, anxiously dancing from one foot to the other.

“Wait a moment.” Steve tried to say, nearly dropping the pizza from his mouth. He put down his food and beer to pick up Daniel. The boy eagerly leapt into his arms and hugged his father. “How's daddy's little fellah, eh? You been a good boy for your mum today, huh?” Daniel nodded energetically. “I Bet you have. What you got there?” He asked taking the toy car from Daniel, “Gee toys, aren’t what they used to be.” He said turning the crumpled toy over in his hand.

Daniel began to climb down his father, “I didn't do it, did it itself!” He exclaimed, hurriedly making his exit back to the living room. He stopped by his mother who was still lying on the sofa. “Mu-um,” he called softly, shaking her head gently. She opened her eyes, wincing as the light burned into her retinas, “It's daddy.” Said the child pointing a wavering arm toward the approaching figure from the kitchen.

Jean dragged herself up into a seated position and puckered up for a welcome kiss, Steve almost pounced on her as he stuck the cold pizza into her face.

“Hi hon, I'm home.” He announced.

“God Steve, what did you do that for?”

“Great to see you dear, have a good day at the office?” He continued.

“Sometimes you can be such a child,” she retorted, “I've a good mind to smack your rear.”

“Hey now you're talking, Daniel go to your room, your mother's getting frisky.” Steve said sounding like an American game show host.

Daniel looked puzzled, said nothing, and went to his room. “Now see what you've done.” Jean snapped at Steve. “Come on baby, mummy will tuck you in, don't you worry about mean old daddy. I’ll fix him,” she spoke soft and gently to reassure him that everything was all right. She finished putting Daniel to bed then went back into the lounge. Steve was still looking at the toy car trying to work out what had happened to it, but failed to make any sense of it.

“Have you seen this?” he said puzzled, as he handed the toy to Jean. “No. What is it, or was it?” She said passing the toy back.

“It was the car I bought Daniel last week. How in hell did he manage this?” his voice trailing off to a whisper, as Jean had found a distraction for him. She looked longingly into his eyes and kissed him wetly on the mouth drawing away slowly as she slid her right hand down to his crotch, her hand gently following the outline of his genitals. Steve kissed her back pushing his tongue hard into her mouth searching out her tongue. Their breathing began to deepen as he slipped his left hand into the top of her ski pants and brought it round and down until he could feel her heat on the tips of his fingers. He softly caressed the contours of her buttocks running his fingers along the cleavage and up to the small of her back. Sliding his hand back down he hooked his index finger and thumb over the waistband of her knickers pushing them down revealing her flesh to the cool air of the room.

They broke off their kiss. Steve slid down to his knees, Jean pulled her T-shirt over her head and tossed it across the room, she could feel his soft wet kisses working their way down her body, she felt her ski pants fall around her ankles and she obligingly stepped out of them. Steve raised her off of her feet and lowered her down onto his lap, she wrapped her legs around the trunk of his body and kissed him with the burning passion of summer, he pulled her tightly against him, he could feel her hard nipples through his shirt. Jean had brought her hands between them and began to unbutton his shirt, they parted slightly in silence, she pulled the shirt from his trouser and pushed it back over his shoulders. Leaning forward she bit lightly into his left shoulder working her way up his neck and across his cheek. She licked at his open mouth and looked wantingly into his eyes. She slid her hand into his open trousers toying with the tip of his hardened penis, her fingers folded round the shaft and began pushing the skin slowly back and forth: a hunger was growing within him. She tightened her grip and drawing her hand up, feeling the wet sticky juices on her fingers, she looked down at her hand and tasted the moisture with her tongue, licking the last drop from her fingers. Jean pushed Steve gently back and took his trousers from him. She sat astride him pressing his hardness against his stomach. Placing her hands on his shoulders she began to slide her hips to and fro until he could feel the heat of her open body wetting his. She leaned down and licked all around his lips then licking at his tongue she slid her exposed flesh to the tip of his excitement. She raised her body just enough to allow his penis to touch her opening, slowly, slowly she moved her hips back, his hardness penetrating her, she could feel herself filling with pleasure. She sat up and placed her hands on her hips and pushed her body back and forth rhythmically riding him. He put his hands on her breasts and squeezed them firmly, he sat up, holding her tightly with his right arm he raised her breast to his mouth and nibbled at her nipple with increasing passion to match the fever that was growing within them. She pulled him tightly to her, her body tensed, the muscles in her vagina contracted pulling him deeper inside bringing him to a climax, they sat locked together, kissing, deep and hard their heads twisting like serpents, pulling each other close, savoring the moment, prolonging their encounter until they finally parted their passions spent.

Both of them sat looking at the other, both leaning back, both smiling lovingly at each other, waiting for the strength to return to them. “Welcome home darling.” She said taking a deep breath. She pulled herself up on to her feet. “I’ll just go and check on Daniel.” Steve shrugged his shoulders and stood up and wandered into the kitchen to get another beer from the fridge. Jean walked in and took the can from him, she drank from it long and hard. “We may as well turn in for the night,” she said handing the almost empty can back. “Daniel's fast asleep.” Steve nodded and watched as Jean walked away. ‘What a cute arse,’ he thought to himself, as he followed her into the bedroom.

Chapter four

Bill arrived at the hut by Morgan Creek shortly after eleven, she had settled in and made herself a bed. The hut belonged to her grandfather who had built it as a summer home many years before Helmstown came on the scene, he was old, about eighty or so she thought, but he still had his wits about him. He stood by the table in the main room gathering his thoughts of the day. He pulled at his thick and bushy grey beard. “Be nice to have a bit of company for a change.” He spoke in a very matter of fact way with a slight Cornish accent. “The woods aren't the place they used to be, there aren't the animals or the colour that there once was,” He went on as he walked to and from the table placing the dirty crockery in the sink, “I’ll just leave it to soak for tonight I think.”

“Thanks for the dinner, I was starving.” Bill walked into the room putting her long curly auburn hair into a pony tail.

“That's no problem, be a pleasure to have you stay a while.” her grandfather continued with his tidying up. He turned to look at Bill over his horn rimmed glasses. “Is that all you've brought to sleep in young Belinda?”

“I only brought this because of you,” she replied, “I normally wear less,” and gave him a wry smile and a mock curtsy, pulling out the hem of her almost non-existent night shirt.

“Well,” he said and blew out his cheeks, “I shan't say any more of it, as there is precious little of it to mention in the first place.” and with that he rinsed his hands, dried them and announced: “Time for bed I think. I’ll show you the strange wonders of Shadow Hill tomorrow then.” He dipped his head, smiled and shuffled off to his room.

Bill slept uneasily, tossing and turning, her bed wet and clinging with sweat. Her dreams were filled with dark shady visions circling her mind, surrounding the hut, threatening to break in and, and what? She had no idea. There was a river with no end, a creature with no form, and Gerald, her grandfather, what was he to do with all these creatures?

Gerald slept undisturbed as usual, he had become immune to the effects forest. He knew all about the inhabitants of the forest and their purpose and he knew about the river and its origins and they knew him.

The hut was in total darkness, nothing stirred, nothing ever did. Bill dreamed on, she could see something, it had no true shape or form it was just there, watching, waiting, but it was not alone. Bill opened her eyes; the darkness was total and encompassing. She was not alone. Floating only inches from her face was one of the Visions, black, faceless; it looked down at her and lowered itself through her body. Bill drew a sharp breath, a feeling of death came over her. She sat up suddenly on the edge of the bed, a dull ache filled her head making her feel unsteady. She stood up and tried to reach out for the wall to her right, nothing. She turned to face the wall, but in the darkness she was unable to tell which way to face. The creature moved around in front of her to put itself between her and the door. It opened its mouth and blew at her. Bill backed up a step. She was becoming accustomed to the dark and was sure that there was something in the room with her. She tried to speak but fear got the better of her and she started to drag her feet backwards towards the wall behind her. The creature moved towards her maintaining its distance. It was the first encounter any of the Visions had had with flesh for many centuries. Bill pushed her hands out behind her searching for the wall. She was there; quickly she put her hands out in front of her. The knowledge of having the wall right behind her brought her a new sense of security. The Vision halted. Sensing her new awareness it hissed quietly to itself. It looked slowly from side to side eyeing Bill with caution knowing that it must not allow itself to be discovered, it had no knowledge as to whether or not the flesh could harm it and it was not about to find out. “Who's there? What do you want with me?” Bill spoke without any sound of fear. For what seemed to be an age silence was the only response. Bill stooped forward and rested her hands on her thighs for a moment to gather herself together. The Vision did the same and looked her squarely in the face. Bill felt as if death itself was breathing on her. She froze.

“Lequor.” A voice, hollow and cold, breathed its one and only word as the Vision faded.

Bill dived forward and thumped the lights on, she spun round, scanning the room in a second the beat of her heart surging the blood through her veins, the nighty she was wearing clung to her body like a second skin, her hair hung in rivulets of sweat running from her brow. The door handle turned in her back, a look of panic swept across her face. Her emerald eyes wide with terror. Bill slipped her hand cautiously behind her back and held the handle loosely in her grasp. She closed her eyes and prepared herself. With all the courage she could muster she grabbed the handle, turned round yanking the door wide open in one sudden move. Gerald leapt back from the door with a look of shock flashed across his face, he let out a small startled cry. Bill's reaction was one of total relief: she let out a deep sigh and laughed, choking on her own breath. She passed out falling into Gerald who then stumbled backwards and fell in a crumpled heap. He managed to pull himself out from under Bill who was already coming round. He pulled Bill up onto her feet and helped her out to the kitchen.

“I'll get you a coffee, you'll be all right in a few moments. You’ll see.” He turned to the sink and filled the old copper kettle with just enough water for them both. The flame from the camping stove burned brightly bringing a feeling of warmth to Bill who sat hugging herself shivering. Gerald left the room for a moment, Bill looked anxious not wanting to be alone. Gerald returned with a couple of blankets which he wrapped round Bill to keep her warm. The kettle was already boiling; the rising steam swirled around in the chill air of the hut. Bill watched her grandfather as he made them both a mug

of coffee, he turned round with the two mugs steaming in his bands. He put one into the out stretched hand of Bill. She sipped at it nervously, letting the steam rise into her face taking comfort from the little warmth it offered. Gerald sat in front of her, resting a band on her shoulder he spoke softly. “You can tell me about it later when you feel up to it.”

“Thanks.” She smiled and sipped her coffee. She was feeling better, well enough to speak. “I had a bad dream. I saw something in the woods, I heard noises, voices, there was something else, a presence, something powerful, commanding, calling me, and a river with no flow. Mean anything to you?” She asked staring vaguely into her coffee as she swirled it around. Gerald sat looking at her, frowning, he drew his lips in and gently bit on them, let out a long shallow sigh then took an equally long slow breath.

“The river's for real,” Gerald paused, “It lies no more than a quarter of mile from here. The voices, they're real too, as are the noises, and the presence, the presence would be Lequor.”

“That's what the thing in my room called it self.”

“Thing! What thing?” Gerald queried, his tone becoming angered.

“I dunno, something. I woke up and I could feel that something was in the room. Then I went cold as though something dead had touched me.” Her words were broken, the thoughts a little hazy. “I tried to get up but I felt a little unstable on my feet. Whatever it was that was in my room watched me, but it made no attempt to harm me.”

“It couldn't.” Gerald interrupted. “The Vision, that's what it's called, has no ability to cause any direct harm, they're more curious than dangerous.”

“Vision! You mean, you know about what's going on in my dreams?”

“I'll have to tell you the whole story from the beginning. There's a long dark history to Shadow Hill and Helmstown for that matter, but first breakfast then I'll show you your dreams.” His voice lowered slightly as he spoke of the Hill and its history.

“Here, let me help you.” Bill got up and dragged herself over to the fridge. She opened the door and took out eggs, bacon, mushrooms, and a handful of tomatoes. She took her haul over to the cooker and began getting breakfast. Gerald went over to a cupboard in the far corner of the room, he took out all the necessary plates and cutlery and laid the table for breakfast. He stopped to watch Bill busily working away at the cooker. This is more like it he thought to himself as he went back to cupboard. This time he took a small tin about the size of a shoebox from the top shelf he dusted it lightly with one hand and set it in the middle of the table as he sat down.

“I'm ready when you are, the table's all set and I'm famished.” Bill turned and walked to the table, the two plates she was carrying were piled high with the largest breakfast Gerald had seen in years. “Good Lord! A banquet for breckers!” said Gerald putting on his best posh voice.

“And a piping hot mug of tea.” Bill put the mugs either side of the tin to let her grandfather know that she was already curious. She pulled her chair in close to the table and tucked in with relish to what she'd cooked. Gerald sat with a huge beaming smile spread across his face. He nodded towards his plate and winked at Bill.

“Belinda my dear, if yer weren't my granddaughter I’d marry yer just for yer breakfast,” he said this time exercising his commoner voice.

“Flattery will get you everywhere.” She replied smiling as she popped a mushroom into her mouth. They both finished eating and cleared the table. Bill disappeared to her room to dress, when she came back Gerald was sitting sideways on to the table with his left forearm laying over the tin tapping his index finger on its end. Bill walked to the table and pulled a chair round so that they could sit facing each other. She sat down heavily but found she had to pull at the thighs of her jeans to make them comfortable. “Well,” she said loudly as if to make a point, “Do we take the money or open the box?” she quipped.

“Very droll dear.” Looking over his spectacles at her he flipped the lid of the tin open with his thumbs. “What I am about to tell you is a mixture of fact and a possible sprinkling of baloney.” He swallowed lightly to clear his throat then continued. “The creature in your room last night was the creation of your own mind brought to being by the presence that you spoke of who is known as Lequor.” He stopped to drink from his tea. “Lequor was the servant of, so we are told, ‘Leinad the Giver', who, as long as he was being hallowed by his minions would give them all that they needed to prosper. This went on for centuries.” Bill was listening intently like a child listening to a bed-time story. Gerald continued with his story, arms waving to add a bit of emphasis to his tale. “Lequor on the other hand was sent in to weed out the infidels in his own belief that he would one day be granted flesh so that he may have a true form. The people of Thrimm, the err town where Helmstown now stands, began to think that they could live without Leinad or Lequor for that matter, so they began to be less and less grateful for their opulent life style that had been bestowed upon them forgetting the consequences of doing so.” Gerald halted and paused a moment to look at Bill, as ever, over his spectacles.

“Come on,” Bill urged clearly engrossed in the story, “What was the result, who won? Who lost? Where are they now?”

“Lequor won, Leinad lost, and the people all died in what was known as The Rising.” Gerald stopped again, he looked at Bill with a wry smile, “The rest, young Belinda, is right here.” Bill took the tin from him and looked eagerly inside.

The sun was up and already warming the air. A thin veil of mist covered the woodland floor, but there was no sight of life. Except for the distant cawing of some carrion bird Shadow Hill was still as silent as the night. Bill swung the inner door of the hut open and looked out through the outer mesh door, she pushed at the door with her foot and barged the mesh out of her way with

her shoulder, still with her hands in her pockets she stepped out to survey the new morning. Gerald followed close behind not wishing to let Bill get any distance from him for he had much he wanted to tell her. They walked slowly together, the mist swirling gently around their feet. Bill hooked her left arm around her grandfather’s waist. He felt strong despite his age. Gerald did most of the talking, his free arm gesticulating avidly as told the stories of Shadow Hill and the people of Thrimm. Neither of them had noticed the mist as it drew itself back into the ground that had spawned it. “This is the river of your dreams.” Gerald made a sweeping movement with his arm in the direction of the small brook that barred their way.” From here right up to the land scar on the very top of Shadow Hill lays the domain of Lequor. In here is where the Visions roam free, their numbers are ever increasing, they grow impatient, their master Leinad is not here to comfort or control them.” Gerald spoke as if he were addressing a much larger audience. Bill as ever was totally absorbed; her grandfather was all the family she had left that meant anything to her.

“What are the Visions exactly?”

“They are the creation of a child's mind, they are the thing that lurks under the bed, the monster in the closet. Only when the child has given a name to its creation will it gain any substance. Then it is whatever they want it to be and only they know how to stop it.” Gerald turned to look at Bill. “There is nothing to fear from a Vision, they cannot harm you, they are like the child that brought them to be. They are merely curious of you; you are something new to them.” They walked on to the edge of the woods to where a large white line about a foot deep had been cut into the hill and it ran from the sea on the other side of Helmstown to the road that ran through the woods right to the town itself. From their spot on the hilltop Gerald pointed out the various towns and how they had grown. “And there is Helmstown built on the site of the original town of Thrimm.”

Bill stood looking down at the town, the morning sun shone through a hole in the clouds that had gathered over the valley. Helmstown lay bathed in the sunlight. They could see workmen building in the centre of town, another group of men appeared from behind a knoll that had been obscuring them from view. Gerald indicated towards them and Bill followed on still holding onto his arm. They reached the men within a a couple of minutes or so. Gerald immediately struck up a conversation with the more senior looking one of them. '“Morning gentlemen,” they acknowledged him and continued with their work. “What wondrous doings have the local council got you at today?” The elder man looked at Gerald, smiling he said.

“We're working out the best way to draw the old underground stream over to the town centre to feed the new fountain that the others are putting in down there.”

“That should be nice.” put in Bill, “The town could do with something to lighten it up a bit.”

“Tell that to the bleedin' yuppies down there.” the man replied woefully. “They come here putting up houses and what 'ave yer to suit their bleedin' snotty selves. Don’t give a toss about anyone or anything else but themselves. Bastards.” His tone was getting more heated by the word, his feelings were getting the better of him.

“We'd best be getting back. It’ll be time for lunch by the time we get home. Cheers, and good luck with the fountain.” Gerald and Bill turned and headed back for the forest. The older man watched them go over the brow of the hill before turning back to his work mates.

“Funny pair of buggers.” He spoke to himself aloud as he approached his colleagues who were now looking into a hole about six feet deep. “Huh, that didn't take too long to find did it.” The others shook their heads and shrugged their shoulders with indifference. “Wonder where it starts.” Chipped in a young looking man as he spat into the hole. The sound of the spit hitting the water echoed back at them. A sound like the prow of boat cutting through the ocean began to fill the ears of the workers. They clasped their hands over their ears as they all fell to their knees at the pain growing inside their heads. “Wha.. what the hell is that noise...” The young man never got to finish his sentence, whatever had made the sound had taken him and his equipment down into the hole. The silence that followed was deafening. The older man fought his way to his feet. Blood was running from his ears and nose. Large tears were rolling down his face. He stumbled over to the rest of crew who had gathered together away from the hole. “I’ll call for help, you gather up the gear and lets get out of here.” They did not need to be told twice at once they packed up everything and made their way unsteadily down the hill. A long thin column of water rose silently from the hole and stood motionless. It began to rotate slowly as if it were a periscope scouting the horizon. It dropped back down suddenly and disappeared from view. One of the workmen turned his head to look back. He felt a cold shiver run through him as though he were being watched. He shrugged his shoulders to shake off the chill that had come over him then returned to his retreat.

Chapter five

It was late May the weather was unusually hot for the time of year. Jess Haywood was preparing herself for her daily excursion with Midge, her faithful border collie, as she came out of her front door she clasped her right hand over her forehead. “Oh dear, Midge, I do feel queer all of a sudden.” Midge sat in front of her looking quizzically up at the peculiar expression on Jess's face. Midge whimpered softly at his mistress, swishing his tail from side to side. Jess took her hand away from her head, shaking her head lightly she gathered up her bags and went over to the car. Midge was already waiting eagerly by the driver’s door. As soon as there was enough space he leapt across into the passenger seat and started to paw at the window. Jess dropped into her seat, sighing she leaned over to wind down the passenger window, Midge immediately thrust his head out of the opening, his tongue fluttering in the breeze. Jess ran a hand through her dark grey hair while she started the car. “Soon be there Midge, won't take long.” Driving round the immaculate circular lawn that lay in front of her large white three storey house she looked out the side window of her car to check for any traffic. She drove straight out onto the main Elchester to Helmstown road and headed towards Shadow Hill. Jess began humming quietly to herself, just happy to be alive, her left hand was gently stroking Midge who was leaning out of the window looking straight ahead, his hair blown back across his face, ears flapping wildly in the wind, the biggest smile he could manage was spread wide across his face, he too was happy. The car slowed to a crawl, Jess turned the wheel feverishly as she swung the car round to face the opposite way and parked it facing back down the hill on the grass verge by the roadside. Midge leapt from his window his claws scratching at the paintwork of the Nissan. Jess tutted, shaking her head at Midge who was now leaping around barking at the passing butterflies. Jess changed into her favourite walking boots, whatever the weather she always wore her old suede zip fronted boots to walk Midge. Jess whistled and threw a bright yellow tennis ball in the air away from Midge who was already on his way to retrieve it. Head down, tail out behind him, he was a bullet flying at speed to its target. He caught the ball in mid air almost somersaulting as he twisted his body around to grasp the falling ball in his mouth. Midge took the ball and waited at the top of the hill lying in wait in the scar that ran the length of the hill to the sea at View Point. Jess approached in exaggerated strides, stopping to catch her breath, she stood at the top of the hill with Shadow Hill falling to her left and the way down to Helmstown on her right. She loved this place, she felt at peace here, away from the trappings of her home, and work, away from everything. Midge came out of hiding, dropping the ball at her feet he looked up at her then back down at the ball, Jess had not noticed him, something in her mind was calling her but she did not know what, or to where, or what for, for that matter. Midge let out a small bark still looking from the ball to his mistress and back again, he was growing impatient and began to paw at the ground. He continued to whimper at the ground, pawing it at first then he clawed manically, a soft growl grew quickly as he dug at soil, which yielded at his efforts to remove it. He did not hear Jess telling him to stop, faster and faster whirled his paws, the soil flying out into the air behind him. Jess was getting red with rage, shouting at Midge louder and louder, the ground began to collapse in front of Midge, who had sensed it coming and got out of the way, barking at the growing hole between them. Jess looked at Midge then at the hole, Midge backed away lowering himself to the ground growling at the hole. He stood suddenly and leapt across the hole which was now some four or five feet in diameter. Jess caught the flying dog full in the chest knocking her to the ground. Midge grabbed at her coat collar, trying to pull the scrabbling Jess away from the ever expanding hole. Jess pulled herself up onto her feet, the weight of Midge on her collar almost pulling her down again. Midge released his teeth and began barking furiously at her, urging her to get away from the hole. Jess stumbled forward the ground behind her began to rumble nearly shaking her off of her feet. Without thinking she ran towards Midge who jumped and turned twisting and barking trying to get her to follow. Jess stopped and turned back towards the hole, her mouth fell agape as she watched amazed at the split in the earth as it then ran swiftly down the hill. “Come on Midge.” The urgency in her tone reflected in the pace at which she made for the car. Midge ran ahead, happy now that he at last had managed to spur some life into his mistress and get her out of the danger that he had caused. Jess hurried into the car, Midge was already in, and looking anxiously back towards the hill he started to whine. Jess nailed the throttle and without looking drove onto the road narrowly missing the approaching car that was forced to screech to a halt in a cloud of blue smoke. She waved apologetically to the driver and sped of in the direction of Helmstown.

The police station was deserted on her arrival, Jess strode to the counter and rang the small highly polished bell, no answer, she slammed her hand down on the bell knocking it onto the floor. She leaned over the counter calling out for anyone, the urgent tone of her voice echoing down the empty corridors. A tall gentleman with a coat over his arm lifted the counter flap next to her. “Can I be of any assistance madam?” Came the inquiring voice from behind her. Her heart skipped a beat, Jess turned sharply, she instantly recognised the man as the driver of the car that she had narrowly missed. “I think you ought to sit down love.” He spoke gently to try and calm her. “Take your time. There's no hurry.” He raised his hand to indicate that she was not to speak until he said so. Jess obliged his request, knowing that she would only ramble on and be completely incomprehensible. “Can I get you anything a tea perhaps?” She nodded her approval at his suggestion.

Jess sat looking at the floor ruffling the hair between Midge's ears with her hand. He moved round in front of her and sat with his head resting across her leg. “I don't know how to thank you.” She said into Midge's face as they rubbed noses together. “Who's a good boy then?” Jess began to rub Midge's head more vigorously.

“There you go love.” The voice of the policeman was reassuring. “Now then, where do you want to start?” Jess sat and explained to the policeman exactly what had happened.

“We'd better get up there and take a look. I’ll just radio over to the sergeant and let him know where we're going.” He walked over behind the counter and took a radio from underneath it. He checked in with the sergeant then made his way back over to Jess. “We'll go in the station car. You can bring the dog. He’ll be OK in there. By the way the name is Jake.” He held out his hand. Jess took it and shook it firmly. Tough old bird he thought to himself as they walked from the police station to the car.

The police car bounced over the uneven ground of the hill as they made their way over to where Midge had been digging earlier. The hole had grown to become a tear that was now almost one hundred yards long and up to six yards wide in places. “Jesus H Christ!” Jake said to himself, but loud enough for Jess to here him. “Oh. sorry” he said. “I forgot that I had company with me.”

“That's all right I'm not religious.” Jess replied. Jake stopped the car and all three of them got out. Midge quick-walked over to the crevice and began to bark. Jake sprinted over to Midge, “What's up boy?” Jake asked as Midge continued to bark at the opening. Jake followed Midge's gaze with his own eyes and soon discovered the cause of his excitement. Jess stopped at Jake's side she looked down and immediately turned her face away. She tried to stop the vomit in her throat from getting any further but failed to do so. Jake put an arm around her as he took his radio from his belt and called in his find. “Must be the missing builder, poor bastard. What the hell happened to him?” “I've never seen anything do that to a body before not in all my days in the morgue.” Jess spoke almost in a whisper.

“Me neither.” The body lay face up at an angle across the small river that flowed thickly through the bottom of the crevice. The skin was drawn tightly to the bones, there were no signs of injury or bruising. The eyes were open but the sockets were empty. “The boys in the lab will have a difficult job to work out what the cause of death was. It beats me what could have possibly done that to anything” Jake said turning to look down towards Helmstown. Jess watched the ambulance bounce its way across the field towards them. She crouched down and gave Midge a hug. The ambulance turned a full circle and backed up towards the edge of the river. There was no sense of urgency about the crew they already knew that the casualty was long dead.

A short plump man slid from the rear doors of the ambulance screwing up the wrapper from his hamburger he raised a hand to his mouth to stifle a belch. The coroner ambled over to Jake, his hands thrust into his pockets, “Where is it?” he asked, gruffly.

“Down here,” Jake led the way down the steep bank to the body, “I've never seen anything like it!”

“Seen one stiff you've seen them all,” the coroner replied coldly. He eyed the body over pressing the skin lightly with his fingers. “I’ll soon have the cause worked out for you, won't take long,” of that he was certain.

The body was unceremoniously placed into body bag and loaded onto a stretcher, strapped down, and slid into the ambulance. Jake closed the doors and banged on the side of the ambulance signaling the driver to go. Jess walked uneasily back to the car with Jake, even the effervescent Midge was somewhat subdued, they took one long last look back across the field before heading back to Helmstown.

The body of the worker lay on the lab table with the coroner stood looking at it with a less than interested look on his face. He shoved the remains of the hamburger that was in his hand into his mouth poking it in so that he would not have to take another bite. He walked over to the sink and began to wash his hands; he scrubbed hard at them singing to himself. “Dada dum dum dum another one bites the dust,” he turned smiling, pulling the long rubber gauntlets over his hands. “To all the girls I've gloved before.” laughing quietly to himself he raised a scalpel and cut a line down from the diaphragm to the pelvis of the corpse, then across the base of the rib cage and again from one side of the pelvis to the other. The skin of the worker felt thin and frail, it was drawn tight all over the man's body, its ribs stuck out like castellations, the neck vertebrae were all visible and looked as though they had been wrapped in cling film. As the coroner pulled the flesh apart the skin on the body relaxed and hung limply on the bones, he pinned the flesh back before looking into the abdominal cavity. His eyes opened wide with surprise, the entire body was devoid of any organs or body tissues, only skin and bone remained. The sound of the electric saw filled the air as the doctor began his exploration of the skull. There was no blood or tissue debris from the cut made by the saw, nothing. The skull was completely empty the inside of it was clean and dry as if nothing had ever been there. The coroner cleared up his instruments and closed the opening he had made. He stepped back to view the body, it was only then that he noticed that the skin appeared to be perforated; the operating lights looked like little stars shining through the skin, which now hung limply on the corpse as though it were an ill-fitting sweater.

Chapter six

Bill had decided to pay a visit to Elchester Museum to try and verify anything of the story that her grandfather had told her. With her she took the tin which Gerald had given her a few days earlier. The museum had quite an extensive library of reference books and books of local history and interest. The librarian at the reception pointed to another library assistant. “That lady will be of more help to you.” The young girl said pointing a quivering finger in the direction of a grey haired woman who was standing on a small kick stool replacing some of the returned books from the trolley beside her. “She knows more about the local history than anyone, after all she has written just about every book that has been printed on the area.” Bill walked over to the woman clutching her brightly coloured satchel close to her chest.

“Excuse me, but the girl at the desk told me that you may be able to help me.” Bill spoke in a soft whisper, the library hall echoed even slightest sound that was made.

“I can only try my dear.” The lady replied stepping down from the stool, and turning towards Bill. “Now, what is it exactly that you are after young lady?” “Please, call me Bill. I'm after some more information on local history, dating back at least a thousand years.”

“A thousand years of local history. Good title for a book,” the lady replied somewhat surprised at Bill's request. “Do you have any idea as to what exactly you're looking for, a person, a place, or a, or..?”

“Thrimm,” said Bill raising her voice a little. “I'm looking for Thrimm and something more on,” Bill paused a moment, “Lequor.” The woman turned away and put the last of her books back almost without looking. “Is there a problem?” Bill tried to look the woman in the eye, but she would not look directly at her.

“Please come with me.” Bill followed the woman to a private study at the rear corner of the library. She stopped and held the door open pointing into the room. Bill stepped cautiously through the doorway. The lights flickered before coming on fully. The room was small but was furnished with an incredible amount of old and mainly tatty books. “These books are all we have on local lore, some of them are very old, so please be extra specially careful with them, they're my life's work.” She looked lovingly at the books piled around the room. “Would you like anything to drink, err Bill. Strange name for a girl isn't it?”

“Well it is short for Belinda, Belinda Cartwright, I'm trying to fill in a few missing details from my grandfather's bits.” The woman left the room through a door just to the right of the other. Bill looked around the comer after her, standing on one leg and gripping on to the door frame. “A coffee would be great, please, no sugar, mind.” The woman returned with two plastic cups steaming with the aroma of freshly ground coffee.

“There you go Bill,” doing her best to remember the girls name, “What details is it that you actually require?” The woman sat next to her at the writing desk in one comer of the crowded room. She offered out her hand. “The name's Jess, Jess Haywood; I'm responsible for research, local, and otherwise.”

Bill took the old battered tin from her satchel and placed it in front of them. There was a date engraved on the tin. Jess raised the lid of the desk and took out a cloth, she rubbed lightly at the engraving.” The year of our Lord 842.” Jess said the date almost disbelieving it. “This tin of yours, It used to belong to a scribe, the one responsible for the upkeep of the region of Thrimm.” Jess rubbed at more of the tin, the years of dust just gave up their hold revealing its ancient secrets. “I, Gerald Bakel, do swear solemnly to uphold the records for the people of Thrimm. Let no happening take place that shall not be entered unto these records. No man shall alter this testament else he shall face the unseen one. Let no man live in the valley of Thrimm whom shall not pay homage to our provider or he too shall face the wrath of the unseen one. None shall escape the all seeing, all providing one, any who would defy him shall face the unseen bringer of death.” Jess broke of from cleaning to sip her cooling coffee. Bill sat staring blankly into the tin.

“Gerald Bakel is my grandfather.” She spoke in a lost voice, stunned by what she had heard. Then she smiled and gave a sighing laugh. “You silly cow Belinda,” She put her hands behind her head, leaning back in her chair she reached out for her drink. “How can that Gerald Bakel possibly be your grandfather you dozy git.” She spoke as if she were talking to someone else rather than herself. Taking large gulps of coffee she sat up and began to take the papers from the tin and spread them out on the table. Jess stood up, leaned over the table, she took a large faded leather bound book from the shelf.

“This,” She said holding the book under Bill's nose,” Is the register of the town of Thrimm, or rather it is a copy of it, the original is down in the vaults. In here we should be able to find anyone who is mentioned in these records. This dates back to eight twenty one. The others all follow on from there.” She sat back down next to Bill, who was now busily scanning the pages for any mention of who the unseen one was. Jess was becoming more and more intrigued with Gerald, as the hours passed she began to ask Bill more about him and how he came to be in possession of the records.

“I don't know,” was Bill's only answer, “he gave me the tin the other morning after I had a bit of rough night in the hut. He said the answer to my dreams lies within these papers and books. Then we walked through the woods before lunch and came out up near where that workman disappeared the other day.”


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