One Man's Choice

A man stumbled down into an underpass, knocked his head against the wall and fell unconscious.  He woke up and could better take in his surroundings.  The underpass was brightly lit up; the white tiles along the floor were discoloured.  The lights flickered every so often especially when the thunder echoed through.  The rain hammered the floor outside.  He glanced at his watch, it 3:33 in the morning.  He climbed to his fight and slowly walking along down the underpass to the other side.

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                At the end of the underpass a huge bolt of lightning struck a tree and the clouds above erupted into a monstrous roar of thunder.  The lights behind him flickered and one by one switched off, until the underpass was engulfed by complete darkness apart from the street lights on either side until they too went out.  He was left with the dim light from his watch.  The rain continued to drop onto his face until that too stopped, odd seeming he could still here it. 

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                He looked behind and the lights ignited from the other side until the underpass was illuminated again.  When he turned around the exit that was once in front of him had been replaced with a wall.  To the right and left of him were other ways the underpass lead.   He was confused how could this be, where did the exit go.  He pressed his hand against the wall to see if it were real.  Sure enough the wall was cold, damp and most importantly it was real.  There was graffiti below his hands on the wall.  “Choose” had been painted on in a dark crimson red.  Beneath that toward the floor a picture of a dismantled body, there was no telling if this were of a woman or a man. 

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                He turned around and to his pleasure the entrance was still there.  He walked through the shallow murky puddles back toward the entrance.   There was a darkness that set its self upon him, not physically but spiritually, he could feel the lights dim and bitterness in the air.   His body was brought to a halt by a pane of glass so clear he could not see it.  His breath appeared on the glass and the rain tapped against it.  How could this be, who put this glass there he asked himself.  No matter how much weight he put against it; he could not even put the smallest of crack in it.

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                The only choices he had left stood waiting either side behind him.  A young boy’s voice began to echo through the cracks in the tiles.  Drops of blood leaked from the dank mould above his head.  He walked to the other side and decided to turn right and see what was waiting around the corner.  It almost seemed like he was stood in the exact same underpass, the stain on the walls, the mould above his head, and even the words ‘choose’ wrote on the wall at the end.  The only difference here the drops of blood rose from the floor to the ceiling.  Despite the bizarre nature of the blood it made it easier for him to avoid them.  Confused he walked to the other side where again he was offered a choice between turning right or left.

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                The wind suddenly howled through the subway and thunder followed behind with an enormous roar.  The lights to the left of him illuminated and scored the mould from the tiles.  To the right it stayed dark; the illuminated lights could not penetrate the darkness.  He took this a sign to turn left and continue along what he deemed to be the safest route. 

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                To his displeasure he was greeted with the same scenario.  The voice he heard before deepened and brought chills to his spine as it whimpered across the tiles.  The blood no longer dripped from the ceiling or the floor; instead there was a steady stream of crimson either side of him.  The light became darker with each turn.  He could still hear the rain pat against the glass and the occasional growl of thunder.  The graffiti at the end of the subway now looked like it had be hand painted in what he hoped was red paint.  A shadow stood next to the words, it looked like that of a small boy.  Enflamed eyes stared back at him, the blood halted and rain fell still.  The shadow took a few steps forward and evaporated into the tiles.  The mould on the walls began to move, it looked like tiny creatures crawling down the tiles and across the floor.  They all headed to his direction, he took a step back and looked to where he came from to perhaps head back. 

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                A dark mist had set down on his previous route; there was no sign of the previous entrance.  The tiny creatures moved closer, he could hear them crawl along the floor.  His skin already started to itch even before they reached him however the walls behind bubbled and hissed as the mist swept across the tile.  He had two options, either run through the mysterious mist or attempt to jump over the crawling floor and take a right or left. He leapt across the floor and brushed pasted the boys shadow with no hesitation.

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                To no surprise he was greeted with the same passage, and like the others this one was darker and more mysterious.  Candle sticks now replaced the lights that we screwed to the wall.  Brown water drops fell from the ceiling.  There were no tiles, stone walls with rotten wooden beams were in place instead.  The floor a mixture of dirt and stones.  Dead rats littered each side of the passage, this really was the worse one so far.  The words were still written on the wall in front however these were now scratched into the wall with what looked like fingernails. 

                He took small steps forward, his feet squelched through the soggy mud.  Behind he could he footsteps, he slowly peered over his shoulder and saw a boys hand reach around the corner.  The hand was covered in rotting flesh with no finger nails.  It pulled the rest of the boy’s body around the corner.  His clothes were tattered, flesh peeling and rotten.  The boy stared at the man and opened his dry toothless mouth, “Choose” he whimpered.

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                “Choose what” the man replied.

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                “Meet your maker or head back and face the truth” the boy whispered back.  He stumbled forward and his thigh bones pierced through his skin.  He did not scream nor cry but only stared at the man.  The boy fell to the ground, his arms cracked as he hit the floor.  His body now disintegrated into dust and laid to rest amongst the soggy ground.

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                The man was horrified at watching the boy disappear like that but quickly composed himself.  A sudden rush of wind swept through the passage and blew out the candles one by one.  He was engulfed in complete darkness, the wind came to rest and he was surrounded by silence.  Behind a faint light rose from the ground until he could see his shadow stood before him.  He turned around and the usual wall was no longer, instead there was an underground station platform.

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                He stepped forward onto the platform, it seemed like any other underground platform he had stood on before expect opposite he saw a sign “Acheron”.  He did not recognise the name, this had not been a station he had been too before.  He looked up and down the platform and saw only one person sat on a bench reading a newspaper.  He walked hesitantly over to the man.

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                “Hello” he said cautiously.

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                The looked above the paper, half of his skin was missed from his face leaving exposed muscles and bones.  The odd cockroach crawled from out his check, each one that crawled back into his mouth his crunched with his stained teeth.  “Are you coming along too” the man replied.

“Coming where?”

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                “With the Reaper of course, what did you get sent here for?”

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                “Get sent here for? I don’t know what you mean, I was in my car next thing I know I’ve woke in these bloody tunnels” he was confused by this decaying man.

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                “There must be a reason, you don’t get summoned for nothing.”

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                “No I pulled over in my car and got out, I slipped and woke here.”

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                “Well whatever it is I’m sure you’ll soon find out, talking of which looks like he’s arriving.”  The man folded his newspaper and stood up.

                Lights from a train appeared in the distance.  A gust of smoke blew through the tunnel, the train hurtled through and came to grinding halt.  It like the platform looked like the usual underground trains.  The doors opened, he looked inside but there were no other passengers.  At the front of the train he noticed a tall dark shadow.  There was only one person on the train and they were at the front.  This must have been the driver he thought to himself.

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                “Better not keep him waiting” the decaying man boarded the train.

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                He however did not, he stood back and waited for the shadow to move.  After a couple of minutes it did.  The driver’s door opened.  A figure in black walked from out the train holding a long sharp scythe.  Its ghostly walk towards him sent shivers through his body.  The figure looked up, there was no face in the hood only darkness. It lifted its arm and pointed to him.  He stepped back and looked down the passage from where he had come, it was still engulfed with darkness.

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                “Come forth” the figure spoke in a deep voice.

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                The man afraid did not move forward, instead he took yet other look behind.

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                “Now” it repeated.

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                This time without hesitation he turned and stepped into the darkness.  The walls trembled with the roar of the figure.  The tiles above crumbles and fell in small pieces.  The floor shook from left to right.  To escape the danger of the collapsing tunnel he ran as quickly as he could.  The tunnel became lighter and lighter until he reached the end.  The rain continued to tap against the glass preventing him from leaving.  He repeatedly hit the glass as he heard the shattering footsteps of the figure that followed him.  Next to him the rotting corpse of the boy appeared.

“You must choose, face him or face your truth” the boy whispered as his body crumbled into dust.

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                The figure appeared at the opposite side, it walked closer and closer.  The man was running out of time.  Furiously he kicked the glass, a small crack appeared he was making the glass weaker.  With every step the figure got closer.  There was only one last thing he could try, jump through the glass.  He took a few steps back and ran toward the glass.  He leaped shoulder first into the glass shattering it into a million pieces.  Behind he could he the figure roar one last time.

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                He woke back in his car.  His head thumping, eyes blurry and ears ringing from the broken car horn.  He wiped blood from his forehead.  As his vision slowly returned there was a horrifying sight that waited for him in the middle of the road.  The boy from his dream lay motionless in a mangled heap.  He mangled to open his door and stumble over to the body.  He fell to his knees once he had realised what he had done.  The figure from his dream stood on the other side of the road unnoticed and spirit of the boy next to him.

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                “He can wait” the boy smiled.

A Crows Nest

A man sat alone in his house typing up accounts for his online customers.  A bottle of cold beer accompanied his lonely existence, along with his microwave dinner also bought online.  Never did he feel the need to leave the dark empty looking apartment. His living room had a leather sofa in front a huge plasma television, a simple empty layout for a simple empty life.  On his radio classical music echoed across the room.  The only other life in the apartment came from his plant on the coffee table.

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                The same time every month a crow would sit on the balcony ledge outside, ready for his companion he kept a tub of worms in his fridge.  He did not speak to the crow but took inspiration from its majestic flying ability across the city landscape.   At the same time a different woman would knock at his door.  She would come to pleasure and satisfy his animal needs, each one different to the next.  After the appointment was done four fifty pound notes were left on the side.  He would simply roll over and fall asleep , leaving her either to leave or spend the night in his comfy silk covered bed, either way he never saw them the next day.

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                Why only once a month you ask, every time he was intimate with a woman he would suffer terrible nightmares.  Lay down in his bed paralyzed he could not move, stood in front of him a creature dressed in an undertaker suit with a vultures skull for a head.  Despite it only being a skull it was clear to see the expression of hate.  It would not move from that spot, a faceless woman would always walk past it and onto the bed, she would saddle him naked, her body was ice cold her breath frost and her skin was pale white.

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                The creature would watch as she rode him back and forth.  Its expression did not change all it showed was anger and hatred.   It would pick up large knife from the floor and slowly lift it in the air.  It then grabbed the girl by the hair and pulled her off him.  The face revealed it would always be the girl from that night, her face compelled with terror.  The creature first sliced through her stomach, the knife pierced into her flesh, cock crotches ate away at the now rotting flesh, her body began to age, her skin dried up, and her screams could no longer be heard she was a mute.  After it lifted the knife from her gut it would pull her head back and forcibly grab her by the neck.  The knife now across her neck sliced into her throat.  Her mouth lined with blood her stomach emptied onto the bed.  Once her body had been drained the creature would release her.

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                Her body lay on the bed wounded and empty.  The crow from the balcony would nest within her stomach to pick out the worms that wriggled around in her intestines.  The creature now moved toward him, it dropped the knife and stared at him the anger still there, except for blood stained tears that flowed from its eye socket.

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                Overcome with fear he would wake up in a pool of sweat.  He always had a split lip and a sore head; he put his down to an aggressive pleasurable night.  Why the nightmares he did not know.  There was no sign of the horror from the visions in his apartment so they could not have been real, could they?

The Red Hood

The orange sun set over a dark depressed rotten forest. This once flourishing green haven now decayed in the damp soggy swaps.  The birds all flew into the clear sunset away from the darkness that now beset the forest.  Thunderous grey clouds made their way across the orange sky ready to release an explosive storm.

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            Beneath this desolate sky just outside the reaches of the forest stood an old stone cottage, smoke roared from the chimney above the straw roof.  Inside an old man sat in a rocking chair and read a bed time story to his three grandchildren.

           

            "What big teeth you have" he read from the book. "All the more to eat you with" he read with a snarl and a grimace upon his face.  The youngest held onto her brother's arm scared at the image of Little Red Riding Hood being eaten by the wolf.  All is well with the climax of the story when Little Red and her Grandmother are pulled to safety from the wolf's stomach.

            Grandad ended the story with a ‘happily ever after’, bent down to plant a kiss on each of their foreheads.  He pulled the curtains shut and kept the stare of the monstrous trees away from his grandchildren.  The moon rose, its glare broke through holes in the clouds. The curtains could not contain the ghostly silhouette of the haunting trees whaling in the wind.

            Like good little children they drifted off to sleep.  The wind from the storm scratched at the house, as it battered the garden fence back and forth until a moment of silence the gate stopped tapping at its lock. The wind had not died down, their Grandad had not left the house, and so what could have caused the gate to halt?

            The eldest walked over to the door.  "Where are you going?" the youngest whispered.

            "I'm going to get Grandad, someone's outside" the floor boards creaked as he crept to his Grandad.  He knocked on the door but there was no answer.  He knocked again but still no answer.  His Grandad wasn't there, he had already gone downstairs to investigate the strange goings on outside.  The boy stood at the top of the stairs and listened to his Grandad fumble about downstairs.

            The youngest looked outside again and this time saw a small dark figure stood by the gate draped in a hooded cloak.  He ran to his brother "There's someone outside" he trembled with fear.

            “That’s just the wind blowing the trees it’s probably just the shadow of the trees” he laughed in reply.  To help his brother he went back into the room to confront this hooded shadow.  He peered out into the front garden “See there’s no one there” whatever his little brother thought he had seen was not there anymore.

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            Suddenly they both heard a vase smash on the floor downstairs and a few large bangs against the walls, almost as if someone was fighting.  There were no voices only the reoccurring thuds.

           

            The eldest now concerned scurried back towards the top of the stairs “Grandad” he spoke calmly.  He repeated himself hoping for a reply.

The youngest again glared out of the window, the hooded shadow made another appearance, this time it made its way from the entrance of the house to the front gate.  Unable to take his eyes away from the shadow it turned around and caught his stare.  The shadow gave away no features, apart from the deathly glow of dark crimson eyes.  He soon fell to the floor with a pale white face overwhelmed with fear.

            Their sister woke up amongst all the noise, unaware of what was happening.  The eldest came back into the room “we need to go and see if Grandad is ok, he won’t answer me.”

            “I just saw it again” the youngest cried.

            “Ok if we all stay together we will be fine, come on get your dressing gowns and let’s go downstairs.”  He helped his sister out of her bed and picked his little brother up.  He grabbed the torch from top of the wardrobe where Grandad kept it for emergencies.

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            Huddled together all three slowly made their way downstairs with the torch leading the way, there was no sign of Grandad at the bottom of the stairs.  The youngest caught a glimpse of someone lying down on the porch as the light flicked around the dusty old cottage.  “Hey, there, I think that’s Grandad.”

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            “Why is he lying on the floor?” his sister asked.

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            “Grandad” the eldest whispered. 

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            There was no movement, they crept ever closer to see if he would respond.  “Grandad” all three took turns to whisper his name, but there was no reply.  They reached the entrance of the porch where his body lay still.  The eldest pushed the other two away so they would not have to see the horror of him lying on his back motionless,  there was no signs of a struggle just the look of terror upon his face and in his eyes almost as if had seen the devil.  Someone so frightening had caused him to collapse and life to weep away from his frail body.

            The boy looked up outside the porch where the hooded figure stood watching by the gate, those crimson eyes staring through him.   Goosebumps shivered throughout his body, he felt he could no longer stay in the house waiting for the hood to return.  He turned back to his brother and sister, took their hands and ran to the rear of the house.

            “Where are we going?” they both asked.

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            “We need to leave this house now, let’s go into the woods” he replied back.

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            “But why” both spoke in unison.

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            “Grandad wants us to play hide and seek, he thought it would be fun to play in the dark.”  He knew pretending this to be a game would be the easiest way to get them out of the house on such a dark and gloomy night.  He looked back over to his Grandad the hood now stood at the front door; he knew he had to leave now.

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            “When I say go let’s all run as quickly as we can into the woods.”

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            They both nodded to agree.

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            “Ready, set, go,” they all ran out of the house and into the gusty night air.  They ran across the muddy back garden and into the forest that backed onto the house.  It was dark and moody, everywhere they looked trees gathered around them.  The branches crackled in the wind, the leaves blew from the limbs of the trees and into their faces.  The air became colder, the fog became thicker.  Owls hooted at the moon hidden behind the rain soaked clouds.

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            They let go of each other’s hands as they ducked and jumped over puddles, fallen trees.  Their shoes sodden with mud became heavier to run in.  They did not look back they did not talk.  The youngest brother caught his trousers on a fallen branch.  He twisted his ankle and fell into the fog, hidden from his siblings who ran without him unaware of his unfortunate fate.  He lifted his head and tried to shout, but his mouth was full of moss and dead leaves.  Next to him lay a dead bird, worms wriggled around its corpse and insects crawled through the eye socket and beak.

The forest went silent, not even the hungry insects made a noise.  He lay there scared, abandoned all alone.  Footsteps slushed through the sodden ground behind him.  For a moment the moon broke through the clouds, the hooded shadow appeared within the fog.  He was too afraid to move or scream, he waited for the shadow to move closer and closer.  Worms squirmed through his fingers, more and more of them came from out the soil.  The ground softened, his body started to sink into the mud.  The shadow now stood in front of the moonlight and eclipsed him in darkness.  The ground hardened around him, the worms huddled over his neck.  The weight of them made it difficult to breath.  The shadow halted at his saturated feet, it lifted its head and its dark crimson eyes pierced through his.

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            The eldest brother and his sister had made some distance through the forest.  Their brothers scream echoed throughout the forest.  The wind picked up, the crows screeched as they fled the ever increasing fog.  He held his sister as she cried into his arms.  He caught sight of the shadowy hood floating amongst the trees, it almost glided without touching the floor.  The moon made another appearance from within the clouds.  The light lay upon a rundown cottage just behind them, the fog made a pathway almost inviting them in.

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            “Quick run into the house” he pushed his sister forward.  The shadow darted through the trees quicker and quicker sensing their urgency to escape.  The wooden door opened to the girl as she made her approach.  The brother took another look around for the shadow, but it had disappeared.  A crow came back and sat on a tree in front of him.  He and the crow locked eyes; it squawked and ruffled its feathers. He sensed a fright within the crows shrills squawk.  He ran to his sister, her hand held out ready to grab him.  He reached the entrance to the cottage, he smiled, but her face turned to horror the shadow was behind him and within a breath he was grabbed and taken into the depths of the forest.  The door slammed shut and flung her across the hallway.

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            On her front she opened her eyes, the dust stirred as she slowly gained her breath, plucking up the courage to move, knowing she needed to find somewhere to hide she climbed to her feet.  The atmosphere was different to outside, the air was warm, and the dust was thick.  She found it difficult to breath.  The cottage was small not to many places to hide.  She scrambled into the nearest bedroom; an old rusty bed lay against the back wall.  The decayed sheets hung over the bed just enough to touch the floor.  She crawled under, waited and silently prayed.

The door to the cottage scraped across the floor, the shadow had finished with her brother it had come for her.  It followed her footprints within the dust.  It knew her exact hiding place.

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            “Oh! Grandmother, what big ears you have” she heard a voice speak, it did not come from the shadow, it felt like the house had spoken.

The shadow walked closer and closer, she saw the feet of the figure.  The feet of a little girl bare, muddy, maggots wriggled on the empty nail bed and ate away at the rotten toes.

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            “But Grandmother, what big eyes you have” the house spoke again.

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            She scurried against the wall, shaking terrified of what stood in front of her.  The shadow did not move, only the maggots refused to stay still.  Fearing the worst she decided to make a run for it.  Taking a deep breath she braced herself and shot from out the bed.  She tripped over the shadow but it evaporated into ash.  The shadow simply disappeared; she got back up and ran to the front door.  The handle would not move the door had locked itself.  She turned around and saw another room, sliding her hand down the splintered door she walked inside.

“Oh! Grandmother, what big teeth you have” the cottage spoke for one last time.

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            She entered the room and was overpowered by the stench of death.  She had walked into the lounge; dried blood stained the wooden floor.  The moon again made an appearance; it released the shadows of the room.  A corpse sat in a mouldy chair in the corner.  A rat rested in the lap of the corpse feasting on its foul decayed flesh. 

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            The crow from before mounted upon the window, it peered through the glass.  The door shut behind her, she turned but no one was there.  The moon once more hid behind the clouds.  The room became engulfed in darkness.  She inched closer to the corpse; she could hear the rat enjoying its meal.  A mystical crimson glow shone from where the corpse’s eyes once sat.  Unlike her bother she was not scared she was taken by it, she was mystified by its beauty.  She got closer and closer; the rat spooked jumped from the corpse and scurried under a table.

The wind stopped, the warm air became colder and the dust lightly glided across the room.  Her breath danced in the now icy callous air, her heart pumped with warm blood as she forgot her fears.  The room became colder, the dust thickened.  Her fear returned to her flushed face, the corpse twitched, a breath from its wretched mouth danced with hers.

“All the more to eat you with” the corpse growled.

Sweet Dreams

Every night I perform the same journey, the same routine.  The sun sets the moon rises; I park outside beneath the trees.  The frost covered ferns protect me from the moon light.  My body slumped in the bucket seat, my head protected by my black hoodie.  The ignition off music plays through my ear phones.  I take short deep breaths aiming my sight toward the house.  This is what my life has come to I live to watch their betrayal, their lies, my anger drives me.  Exactly how I’ll carry out my revenge I do not know, all I know is tonight it comes to an end.  My depressing life, to merge with their happy make believe family.

              He’s my best friend from birth, through school, she’s the scarlet whore, cheating, deceiving just a few of her evil traits.  Do they both deserve what’s coming, probably not, but did I deserve the humiliation and deceit, no.  I lost my life, my friends, my family and they gain it all.

The blade in my hand as cold as ice, ready to penetrate through her perfect soft skin.  I wait for the lights to go out.  I wait for them to head upstairs, into the dark so I can creep through the shadows.  Lightly brush across the old wooden floor boards.  Their little dog slumbers in his bed by the crackling fire.  Do I take the risk of him waking up? No I cannot make such a rookie mistake.  I take my blade and before he wakes I grab hold of his tiny jaw to silence it, and plunge my dagger into his chest.  The air sucks out, he wriggles to escape my grasp and the brutality that has come to him, but it’s too late; life sucks away, he falls limp from the arms.

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                I make my way upstairs, the bathroom light switches off as she climbs into her bed.  I creep into what seems like the spare room to allow enough time for that wretched whore to nod off.  I let half an hour pass as I sit underneath the moonlit window frame.

Their bedroom door ajar perfect to sneak in.  I slither across the wall, as quiet as a butterfly I hover over her sleeping soul.  She takes small breathes through her nose and out that rotten mouth.  I forcefully place my hand over her lips waving my blade in front of her.  She wakes to see my smile staring back at her.  She starts to struggle but as she realises the threat, she stills.  I don’t speak I just allow her to look at me anticipating my next move.

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                I remove my hand while the knife caress’ her neck.  She doesn’t scream, she doesn’t move,   tears slowly trickle from her eyes.  Her fear stricken face fuel’s me, it boosts my ego. Slowly my hand slips across her chest, I fondle her breasts.  She moves slightly my grip tightening around the knife, adding pressure to her neck, a little blood seeping through.  Enough now before I wake him up I take one last look into her eyes, her beauty not enough to stop what I’m about to do.  I press my hand back onto her lips, time to end her retched existence.

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               The smooth edge of the knife slices into her soft skin.  She lashes out, trying to save herself.  Stronger than her I hold her down.  The blade now deeper, her lungs fill with blood.  He starts to shuffle, only a matter of time before he too meets his fate.  I’m less of a tease with him; he doesn’t deserve my tender touch.  Releasing the blade from her neck I plunge it deep in his chest.

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              “Hey what are you reading” the man said to his wife as he walked from the on suite.

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              She was sat in front of the computer reading an email she had received from her friend, “just an email Gina sent me.”

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              “Oh yeah, what’s it say” he dried his short dark hair with his towel.

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              “Well it’s just a short story about someone I used to know” she said with a confused tone to her voice.

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              “Who’s it about then?”

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              “You remember me telling you about that boy who stalked me and my friends at school; it’s about him killing a couple and their family.”

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               “Didn’t he hang himself” he became more and more interested and jumped to the other side of the bed next to her.  “What’s that below.”  He pointed to a video file at the bottom of the email titled ‘prologue’.

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               “I don’t know, shall I click it?”

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               “Yeah go on, she’s probably making an idiot of herself or something.”

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                Clicking the link it immediately opened up into a window.  The image was grainy.

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                “Hey look at the time at the bottom she only filmed it two hours ago” he pointed out the obvious.

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                The video continued, it was set in a small dark bedroom; the curtains were drawn preventing any light entering the room.  The camera pointed towards the ground at a pair of boots; these were not women’s shoes.  The camera lifted up, it aimed across the room to a small bed in the corner of the room.

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                “I didn’t know she had kids?”

                “She doesn’t why?” they both were dazed by the video.

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                “Well if I’m mistaken I’d say that was a child’s bedroom.”

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                 The person in the video slowly approached the bed.  A gloved hand slowly stroked the quilt, making its way up.  The camera panned across the side of the bed.  The lack of light made it difficult to make out any of the designs on the quilt.  As the hand reached the top of the quilt it was clear to see this was a child’s bed.  Breath from the person swept past the camera, the room was smothered with cold air, as he had gained his entrance from the window.  The girl’s face concealed beneath her long dark hair, so they could not make out her identity.

The hand disappeared from the grainy image for a moment, returning with a kitchen blade.   The hand caressed the face of the girl and slowly swept her hair aside to reveal a pierced ear.

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                “Doesn’t Lauren have earrings like that?” he raised his head and questioned her.  She did not respond; she remained captured by the video.

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                The knife now moved across her cheek to reveal the side of her face.  It was indeed their daughter.

​

                “Oh my god” she gasped and covered her mouth.

​

                He jumped from the bed and ran to her room.  “Lauren” he shouted repeatedly.

                As he kept shouting for a response she continued to watch.  Their daughter woke from the cold sharp blade.  Her eyes widened immediately with the harrowing figure stood above her.  The camera was set on the bed side table pointed at horror stricken face.  The figure now fully visible, climbed on top of her.  The blade dangled above her face, the figure looked at the camera, its face kept in the shadows but its eyes glowed for a moment as if it was smiling, the knife dropped from its hand.  The screen fell black and only silence could be heard.

​

               “Lauren” the room was locked he could not get inside; this was unusual though, as there was no lock on the door.

​

               There was a quiet knock in the closet.  This grabbed the wife’s attention, unable to show any emotion of what was potentially behind her daughter’s door, she crept to the closet.  Another knock came from it, as she slowly approached.  She grabbed the door knob; it was as cold as ice.  Her mist from her breath was sucked into the holes in the wooden doors.  She took a deep breath, closed her eyes and opened the door.  There was nothing, just clothes hanging from the rail and shoes boxed up. 

​

                He finally got into the room with a strong kick to the door.  His daughter woke with the forceful entrance of her father.  “Daddy” she cried unharmed.

​

               When the wife heard there was nothing wrong she turned to leave the bedroom, but the door slammed shut.  The video commenced once more, this time the grainy image was of an oak tree.  In the darkness of the moonlight a body was hanging from the branch.  The rope lowered the body to the ground, it was still alive.  The noose was removed from around its neck and the figure walked towards the screen.  The image became more blurry obscuring the person.  When it came up close to the screen the image cleared, it lifted its head up and starred at the screen.   It was not her friend in fact it was the boy from her school.  He smiled with blood shot eyes.  The lights in her room dimmed.  The screen blacked out again.  She looked down to see a dark shadow stood over her, a knife then plunged deep into her back through her chest.  She felt the cold dead lips against her ear “Did you enjoy my little story?”

The Legend of Two Doors

So there I was after a night on the lash with work before sat of the john emptying the contents of that McDonalds we stumbled into at a time god only knows.
There was no knock at the door, no polite excuse me. Just a "oi you in there?"
My response to the blatant obvious "yeah" a rather short and sweet reply. Not once did it cross my mind to how these two intruders gained access to my room.
Their voices closed in but not quite into the bathroom only the hallway in safety away from the smell of the night before.
"You having a shit?" their voices echoed.
"Yeah" again I provided a short reply.
"Err you've left the door open."
"What are you doing in my room?" clearly I had no idea regarding the security of my room.
"You left the door open and you've left the bathroom door open" obviously they had not come across a person with enough confidence to poo with the door open.
"So" to me there was nothing wrong here.
"But you've left the doors open whilst having a shit" they although disgusted made themselves comfortable waiting for me to finish.
With each turd dropping into the water the occasionally sigh of disgust would come from their mouths.
As I finished I entered the room all of us unable to maintain a serious look. We overcame with laughter, I clearly had no idea I had left the door open, they clearly had no idea I was having a shit. Who was at fault you'll have to be the judge of that. All I know is that event gave birth to the legend of Two Doors.

My First Short (Katie)

The icy water glistened in the darkness of the moonlight sky.  The waves crashed against the rocks upon the shore line.  A small fishing boat slowly crawled through the depths of the Baltic Sea toward the shores of the mighty Soviet Union.   At its Wheel an old sea Captain smoked his pipe steering the vessel away from the frightening sharp rocks.  In front of him a priest waited for the boat to dock.  Alick was a tall muscular man, unusual for a man of the cloth.  He wore a long trench coat to fight off the artic chill.  The light from the harbour gradually became brighter and brighter as they prepared to dock.

            The dock was empty, only a few other fishing boats kept this small town in business.  Its residents were tucked away from the icy chill.  The captain slowed the engine until it came to a stop and the boat rocked to a steady halt.  He threw a rope onto the dock and tied his vessel.  Alick followed and climbed up on the wooden platform. 

            “Take care of the boy” Alick said to the Captain.  He referred to his son who was asleep in the cabin.  The Captain didn’t speak he just nodded his head.

            Alick walked along the creaky wooden planks.  Underneath the waves quietly swept around the rustic supports.  At the end of the harbour another priest waited in a horse drawn carriage.  Alick was not hear for a friendly chat, he was here to find the last part of the Jericho Manuscript an ancient scripture that once read together could help prevent the return of Legion the Lord of the Underworld.  Father Michael opened the door to welcome Alick.

            “Good morning Alick it is good of you to join us” Michael helped him into the carriage.

            “The pleasures mine Father” Alick met the welcome with a gracious smile.

            The driver whipped his horses into motion; they galloped from the waterfront and out into the countryside to a nearby village.  The village was dark and quiet, no-one yet awake as the sun just broke through the horizon.  The houses were built from solid oak wood and thick thatched roofs perfect protection from the arctic cold.  They came to a halt at the top of the village in front of a church.  This unlike the rest of the buildings was made from stone, and had been standing for hundred years.  The stain glass windows shone brightly in the glaze of the morning sun.  Both Michael and Alick climbed from the carriage.  Next to the church was Michaels home similar to the rest of the village.

            “Please Alick do come in” Michael held the door open for Alick.

            Inside the room was very basic, there sat a couch next to a wood burning stove and an old discoloured rug.  The kitchen stove was stood opposite; a housekeeper was boiling the kettle preparing a hot drink for the visitor.  The housekeeper placed the kettle on a tray and sat it on the table accompanied with several mugs.  Alick and Michael took a seat each at the table as a drink was poured for each of them.

            “Quite a cute little village you have here Michael” Alick uttered.

            “Thanks not too much similar to the one we grew up in” Michael chuckled.

            “Well take away the snow and ice and the wintery blast I would say so.  It has been a while old friend, you should come back and visit once in a while, or have the commies trapped you here.”

            “Not quite, I cannot leave these people they need me.  A demon lurks the nearby woods no one can escape, several villagers and workers at the docks have met untimely ends.”

            Alick sat up with a serious look “how do you know it is a demon and not just a feral animal searching for food.

            “The marks left…” Michael stopped mid-sentence with Alick’s interruption.

            “Marks, what sort of marks” Alick asked.

            “Similar to those of the beast and his daughter like the ones we saw in Germany” Michael was referring to the signs they both found during the war and the invasion of Germany.  The sign represented the army of Legion; it was the letter L and K embroiled together with a swastika drew in the middle.  The K was for Legion’s daughter Katie.

            “Are you sure that was the symbol you found?” Alick was still unsure.

            “Yes I am not mistaken trust me it was the symbol of the beast.”

            “This is not good” Alick stood up and walked over to the frosted window.  “Samael, the demon is Samael I know it. He must be here for the script as well.”

            “The script, how can you be sure he knows where it is.”

            “That I am unsure about, he doesn’t know where it is, there must be something else as well.  When I was told about the scripts I was told I would meet a young girl who would help unravel the scripts secrets.”

            “You mean the myth about Katie, Alick she is a false prophecy” Michael was very stern with his words about Katie.

            “Michael I do not know of a myth, I was never told it would be her.”

            “Alick she is Legions daughter do not believe what you have heard about her, she did not turn her back on her father.  Her soul will always contain evil.”

            “Michael I was told the girl I meet is our hope to fight evil, if it is Katie then I do believe she will help us, why else would Yahweh have trusted her.”

            “Her beauty speaks volumes she manipulates man far too easily, say what you will if I find her I will make sure she cannot walk this earth anymore.”

            “I guess I shall I have to find her first” Alick winked at Michael.

            There was a knock at the door which helped break the increasing tension between these two men of God.  Michael opened the door and invited the guest inside.  Leon walked inside; he was Michael’s apprentice, a young skinny boy desperate to learn Michael’s trade.

            “Good morning gentlemen, ah you must be Alick” Leon greeted Alick.

            “Good morning” Alick replied.

            “Michael tells me you have come to retrieve the last script.”

            “Indeed I have; has he also told you where we are headed to get it?” Alick was interested to see how much this young boy knew.

            “Only that the script is hidden away in the fifth and final Church of Jericho but as of yet we do not know the location of the church.”

            “Well this is where I am needed” Alick pulled out a folded piece of paper from his back pocket and unfolded it onto the table.  “On here you will see the location of our destination.”  Alick pointed out a cave just located outside of the village.

            Michael took a look at the map “That cave is not far from here, if we take a couple of horses we can make it by mid-afternoon.”

            “Michael are you sure you want to come, if Samael is here he will not hold back he will try to kill you.  I have fought him before I know what he is capable of.”

            “Do not worry for our safety we will be fine, I must see this church for myself I was told the churches of Jericho hold great beauty.”

            “If you do wish to come make sure your arm yourself, if Samael is there at least give yourself a fighting chance, the same goes for you Leon. “

Together all three of them head to the stables to the rear of Michael’s home.  Michael only had two horses, they were magnificent stallions.  “Leon ride with me” Michael jumped onto his horse and held a hand out for Leon to join him.

Alick walked around his horse inspecting it.  He wanted to make sure the mare could make a hastily escape if necessary.  Pleased with his horse he mounted and steadied his steed.  With the two of them ready Michael led the way out of the village.

            Michael and Alick arrived at the entrance to the cave.  It was at the bottom of a tall mountainous cliff face.   The two mile journey was extended by the vastness of the forestation and the endless streams separating the pathway.  The sun pierced through the cold thin air, but no matter how much sun light there was no ounce of light would displace the darkness of the cavern.

            Alick was the first to dismount, he was too eager to enter and find the last Script.  Michael soon followed with Leon.  Michael had with him two lanterns, one of which he gave to Alick, Leon would have to walk in darkness.  Above the entrance written in what Leon hoped wasn’t blood was a wooden sign nailed with the symbol of Legion and Katie.  Alick knew this would be no easy get; none of the other churches had this symbol they was an easy get in and go, this time Alick would have to fight for the treasure.

            In single file they walked into the cave, instantly hit by the smell of fire and brimstone.  Inside the cave there was no glimpse of the end, there was just infinite darkness.  Once the light from the opening had disappeared, they were alone in the obscurity.  Michael walked in front; there he heard the faint sound a something eating.  The sound became more recognisable the closer they got.  Alick leaped ahead of Michael and halted the party.  He held out the lamp at arm’s length, this enlightened a dog ravaging on a corpse.  This was no ordinary dog, its skin was burned and blistered, and the dog looked up and snarled at them to leave.  Alick discreetly drew his sword from his coat and gently approached the animal.  This time it did not take a second glimpse with some of the corpse’s rotten flesh in its jaw it launched at Alick.  With one swoop Alick sliced through the gut of the dog, both parts of the animal slid across the floor as its body drained of life.

            “Alick why do you carry such a sword as a man of god, surely that cannot be allowed” Leon was quick to judge Alick for his heroism.

            “It is not a sin to protect one’s self.  Besides this sword has the blessing of Yahweh it is a great aid when in the presence of evil.  Leon you should always carry something to defend yourself you can never tell when you will need it.  Now let’s carry on” Alick continued further through the darkness.

            Another ten minutes lapsed as the cave opened up to into a great cavern hundreds of feet wide.  The burning flame from the lamps reflected from diamonds embedded into the walls, this minimal light helped them see a little further ahead.  A few more steps forward revealed a wooden rope bridge heading into the darkness.  Below a cliff disappeared into infinite.  Alick was the first to inspect the bridge, it seemed strong or at least Alick hoped it was.  He took his first step and there was a loud creek that echoed throughout the cavern.

            Michael grasped Alick’s arm “You’re not going to cross are you; we don’t even know what’s on the other side?”

            “Where’s your faith Michael, the Church is there it has to be” Alick attempted to reassure Michael.

            “But how can you be sure?”

            “Belief” Alick replied with only one word.

            This time Michael did not argue he saw the belief in Alick’s eyes and followed him across.  Leon kept quiet and followed his elders.  With each step the bridge groaned and swayed gently side to side.  Half way across and it seemed to weaken and the groans increased.  Alick picked up the pace to reach the other side. 

Alick was astounded at what lay ahead; the bridge lay attached to what he could only assume was a floating island.  There seemed to be nothing keeping it a float.  Alick and Michael both reached the end, but before Leon go there one of the planks gave way and he lost his footing.  He fell against the ropes and his body slid through the gap.  Leon panicked and assumed the worst until Alick stepped in and pulled him up.

            “Mind your step” Alick tried to make like of the situation.

            “Thank you” Leon’s heart raced.

            The floating island was only small, in the middle bore the Church Alick had been searching for.  As they walked from the bridge stood two large marble pillars with gargoyles rested on top.  This increased the anxiety amongst the group.  The Church itself brought more unease; it was an old stone medieval building.  There were dark stained windows and several more gargoyles.  They walked to the foot of the staircase that led into the church.  Alick found an old torch on floor; he dusted it off and tried to light it with his lamp by dripping some of the oil onto the tip.

            “Leon take this torch, I want you to stay outside.  If you see or hear anything that seems unusual then call us.”

            “Unusual, we’re standing on a floating Island all of this seems unusual” Leon took the torch from Alick.

            “I take you response as a yes, Michael come with me” Alick marched up the stairs.  He pushed the tall heavy oak door open.  Inside was very different from the outside.  It was lathered with gold and silver vases, pictures and other valuables.  There were two rows of pews, but to Alick’s disgusted they were littered with rotten corpses, they were almost mummified.  Alick could not tell how long they had lay there; Michael soon entered the room and was taken aback just as much from the sight of the souls that rested in what had become their tomb.

            Alick approached the rear of the room.  There was a great golden cross nailed to the back wall.  Below scattered across the floor were dozens of papers.  He called Michael over to help sift through the papers to see if the script was amongst them.  Alick knew he had to find a piece that was written in Aramaic the same as the rest of the manuscript.

            Towards the right of the cross Alick saw a staircase descending beneath the church.  He did not question what danger could lie down there, he just walked straight down.  It was a crypt, there were several stone coffins, who could have possible have been sent to these tombs.  The ceiling was low so he could not stand straight.  The viability was poor the only light came from Alick, however unlike upstairs the room was roasting.  In the far corner was a tomb different to the others, it was slightly bigger and was made from marble, this coffin had to be important.  Alick crept to the tomb, the lid was already ajar.  Alick tried to push the lid further but the sheer weight made it impossible to move one handed.  He placed his lamp on the ground and with both hands he slowly moved it, given the weight Alick only managed to move it slightly more, but this created enough space to see what was inside.

            He picked up the lamp to have a look inside.  It was filled with bones but not just from one person but it looked like there were several people.  Alick did not take care of the bones he sieved through them with numerous bones breaking up.  Amongst the silence of the darkness Alick heard tiny footsteps of a child with a gentle giggle.  His thoughts instantly turned to Katie, was it her walking up to him.  He rapidly turned around but to his bewilderment there was nobody just the empty darkness.  When he turned back to the coffin a small leather case was sat on top.  Alick was even more confused, what was going on.

            He blew the mountain of dust from the case.  He untied the straps and pulled out what was inside.  There was only a single sheet of stained torn paper.  One glace and Alick new straight away this was the final piece, he had now found the complete Jericho Manuscript.  He left the case on the coffin and folded the paper into his pocket.

            “Michael time to leave” Alick told Michael as he made his way back into the church.  Before Michael could reply they both heard the coffins beneath move.  “Michael go now” He raised his voice.

            Two beasts jumped out from the tomb below.  They were two small minions too similar to ones Alick had fought before; he knew how to handle these fowl creatures.  Both crawled along the walls circling Alick and Michael denying exit from the Church.  They focused most of their attention on Michael first they knew he would not be able to handle himself and Alick knew that.  From his coat Alick pulled out his sword and prepared for battle.  The first minion launched itself it the air and lunged at Michael, this left the second one to Alick.  It had hardened elbows to help withstand the coming blows from Alick’s continuous attacks.  Dummying an attack Alick seized its arm and threw it across the room and it crashed into several pews.  Alick ran over to help Michael, with one clean swoop he cut the Minions arm from it body and with another swing he carved through its gut.

            “Michael get Leon and get out of here, I’ll deal with this last foul creature” Alick ordered Michael to leave.

            Michael ran outside “Leon” he shouted “Leon where are you?” Leon had disappeared he was not waiting outside as Alick had asked.

            Alick walked to Michael after he had decapitated the minion.  “Where is Leon?” he asked.

            “I don’t know.”

            “Quick we have to get out of here; Leon may have run ahead, the other minion is still in there.”

            The two of them ran towards the bridge, as they approached a dark shadowy figure appeared at the foot of the bridge.  It walked into the light of Michael’s lamp; it had Leon in its grasp.  The figure was Samael, a demon that had been haunting the village waiting for Alick’s arrival.  He was seven foot tall with hind legs, he enclosed his bat like wings and large sharp fangs with red piercing eyes; he was the main demon to grace Earth.  Samael flung Leon across the floor, he had come for Alick.

            “Do you think you can put up a better fight this time Alick” Samael growled, as he pulled his sword from his back.

            “One on one this time Samael are you sure you do not need you little cretins” Alick mocked Samael.

            Samael responded with an evil smile and lunged with his weapon.  Alick was quick to respond he defended Samael’s move with his own sword, they continued to exchange swipes at each other.  Samael threw a powerful attack that forced Alick to the ground.  He did his best to stop the blade slicing his neck.  Alick used all his energy and tossed Samael into the air and through the side wall of the church.

            “Com’on lets go” Alick led Michael and Leon across the bridge as they quickly made their exodus.

            Samael picked himself up and dusted of some of the rubble from his huge shoulders.  “Hey” he shouted to the minion, “stop them.”  The minion did not reply it simply ran after Alick and the others.  Samael came to the bridge, he saw the minion disappear into the darkness.  He used his sword to hack the rope keeping the bridge attached the ground.  With one last slice the bridge gave way and collapsed.

            Alick felt the vibrations of the falling bridge and jumped to the other side, Michael managed to grab a hold of the edge of the cliff face.  Alick helped Michael up onto safety, Leon was not so lucky.  Too far behind he held onto the ropes as it smashed against the cliff.  The bridge came to a standstill as it hung from the edge.  The minion also grabbed onto the ropes, it though did not stay still, and it quickly climbed to Leon.

            “Help” Leon shouted.

            “Climb up Leon I’ll grab you” Michael replied.

            Leon started to climb up the wrecked bridge, but the minion grasped his foot.  Michael saw the struggle Leon was in so leant over to try and grab him.

            “Help me Father” Leon became frightened.

            “Leon reach my hand” Michael yelled back.

            All three of them heard Samael roar from the other side of the cavern.  “Michael we really need to leave.  You must let go of Leon, Yahweh will take care of him now.”

            “No I cannot leave him, we cannot let him die” Michael tried to fight of Alick.

            “Michael Samael will kill us both if we do not leave now, Leon will be safe.”

            The minion’s hold got stronger and stronger before Leon realised his fate and looked up to Michael “let go, save yourself you cannot help me now” Leon released his hold and fell with the minion into the darkness of the cannon.

            “Forgive me” Michael cried.  He climbed to his feet and punched Alick.

            Alick did not retaliate “I am sorry for you loss but we need to go.”

            Samael roared again, this time the ground began to shake and rocks feel from the ceiling.  The cavern had started to collapse.  Alick and Michael ran through the cave to escape the impending cave in.  The ground rumbled all the way up to the surface, every so often Alick could hear the same laughter from before but again there was no sign of where it was coming from.

            They emerged from the darkness and gasped for the freshness of the evening air.  The horses were still stood waiting for their master’s return.  Alick and Michael both galloped back to the village.  When they arrived they were greeted by a deathly silence.  The further they cantered into the village they saw more and more bodies scattered across the icy ground.  Each corpse battered and bruised covered with the redness of death.  Every villager had been slaughtered only Michael and Alick remained.  The girl’s voice again echoed around the village, Alick could not pin point the direction of the voice until they arrived back at Michael’s church.  At the entrance of the church stood a little girl, she must have been five at best, stood in a scraggy dress, knotted dark hair.  Alick was quick to jump from his horse he knew she was Katie as he had been told.

            “Hey, Alick take a look around this is your fault you are to blame for all the death” Michael shouted at Alick.

            “Michael now is not the time Samael is on his way, come with me to England” Alick tried to calm Michael down.

            Michael looked over Alick’s shoulder and saw the girl.  He too knew she was Katie.  “Ok Alick sorry for my reaction I will accompany you.”

            “Thank you” Alick smiled and relaxed.

            Michael used this as an opportunity to put Alick to the floor.  Alick continued to walk to Katie; Michael found a broken blank of wood on the floor and crept up to Alick.  He thumped Alick over the head with the wood and knocked Alick unconscious.  Michael ran to the girl and took her inside the church.

            Alick opened his eyes with a throbbing headache.  The icy chill of the night sky has woken him; he had been lying there for over an hour.  Alick got to his feet and scanned for Michael, but the only source of light came from the church.  Michael must have taken Katie with him.  Alick darted to the door but Michael had barricaded himself in.  Alick heard the screams of Katie, “Michael” Alick yelled.  There was no response just the continued screams from Katie.

            Alick hurried around the church but there was no other enterance.  He found a large rock on the floor light enough to pick up but heavy enough to cause some damage.  He took a few steps back and propelled the rock through the panels of the wooden door; it only took one throw to create a big enough hole to crawl through.

            Inside Alick found Katie tied to a cross; Michael was on his knees praying.  “Michael you do not need to do this.”  There was no response from Michael he did not distract himself from his actions.  “Michael she is not evil, she is our hope.”  Again there was no answer.  Alick placed his hand upon Michael’s shoulder.

            Michael looked up “You brought the beast to my village; you have brought death to my people.”  Michael stared at Alick.

            “Michael I do not want to fight” Alick tried to calm the situation.

            Michael did not calm down instead he attacked Alick again, but this time Alick did react and returned a couple of punches himself.  The doors of the church were blown from their hinges.  This quickly halted their fight.  Samael had caught up with them; although Samael could not enter the House of God.

            “What’s the matter, can’t you come in” Michael chuckled at Samael.

            “Laugh now priest” Samael smiled back.

            Alick used this distraction to seize Katie from the cross.  He knew the only way he could escape now was to distract Samael and Michael even further.  Alick used his lighter to set fire to the cloth that lay across the pews.  The cloth and wooden pews quickly engulfed in flames the perfect camouflage.  The cross also caught fire and relinquished Yahweh’s presence in the church.  Samael saw this and decided to shut Michael up by entering the church.

            “Still laughing” Samael laughed.

            Michael tried to run from Samael but he was too quick for him.  Samael lifted Michael in the air with his powerful arms.  He ripped Michael’s torso with his other hand, he did not take his time in dissembling Michael’s body.  With one last breath Samael crushed his skull.  Samael threw away Michael’s mutilated corpse and looked around for Alick.  He saw Alick at the entrance of the church with Katie.

            “Alick” he roared.

          Alick stopped and looked Samael in the eyes with fear that he would not escape.  The roof above Samael crumbled and fell in on Samael.  He was consumed by the falling debris.  Finally Alick could make his escape.  He jumped back onto his horse with Katie in his grasp and galloped back to the docks to return to England.

            Samael had already been here too, there were dead bodies scattered across the marina.  Alick saw the body of his Captain with his heart removed from his chest.  Happily Alick’s son had escaped the fury of Samael and appeared from the cabin of their boat.  He was a few years older than Katie, mature for his age with the sights he had saw accompanying his father. 

            “Dallas set sail we are to leave immediately” Alick shouted.  He did not question what had happened he already knew this was the work of Samael.  “Dallas this is Katie we are to take care of her.”

            “Hi I’m Dallas” he politely greeted Katie.

            Katie didn’t say anything she just smiled back; she was too overcome with the whole situation, it was a lot to take in for a young girl like her.

            Alick started the boats engines and it crawled from the harbour.  The clouds soon dispersed and they were greeted with a full moon that shone across the artic Baltic Sea.  Dallas grabbed a jacket from the cabin and placed it over the shoulders of a shivering Katie.  He then joined his father in the cabin to escape the chill of the wintry air.

            Katie stood at the rear of the boat and stared at the distancing harbour.  She caught the sight of Samael and his striking red eyes.  She did not frown nor scream but smiled, she looked like the portrait of innocence but the picture of evil.