Bleak
Chapter One
Bethany tipped the bottle up and allowed the water to wash the heat from her face before taking a swig. She hadn’t realized just how thirsty she was and remembered her Dad telling her to drink plenty whilst she was out hiking. Thanks ol’ man! She smiled and took another swig, feeling the H2O wash away the dust in her throat and hydrate her system.
A sign on the other side of the road caught her eye. Both the Welsh villages of Pentre Gwynfryn and Llanbedr were along the road. She knew the west coast of Wales was beyond that, having studied maps yesterday with her Dad, and she wasn’t far from her destination of Llandanwg; however you pronounced it. Once there she would spend Sunday walking the beach and relaxing with her books until the evening when she’d catch the train home.
She took some more water and then placed the lid back on the vacuum bottle before stowing it in her backpack and taking in the woods around her. She smirked, the outdoors connecting with her soul, and crossed the road, her long legs striding out. She reached a wooden farm gate that blocked her path to the trees on the other side, she opened it, walked through, and shut it behind herself with a solid sounding click before heading on up the track. She was glad that her Dad had suggested getting away for the weekend. Her long legs made hiking easy for her, but she’d got out of the habit and she’d enjoyed it so much, she would definitely do more in the future. Life had become dull after a very tumultuous time and she’d found the sudden contrast meant she’d not been able to focus on what was important. Now, though, after a day of being outdoors and hiking through Wales, she realized she was very clear about her future and what she wanted to do.
She’d planned her route out carefully before she left ensuring that she wouldn’t go wrong, and she was now pleased that she’d plotted a route through these woods. The birds were trilling, and the sun flickered through orange-gold foliage rustled by a breeze that had been hushing all the day. The route was muddy, caking up her boots, but it was more of an obvious path than she’d been on earlier and she took confidence from this that she wasn’t trespassing through someone’s property. Wanting to check she was going the right way, she delved into her backpack side pocket and dug out her map. She heard a twig snap up in the woods to her right and turned her head to look through the tree trunks and bushes. It wasn’t dark in the woods and she thought she saw a movement, so she stopped in her tracks and stared at the spot waiting to see if she saw it move again. She assumed it was an animal of some sort and was keen to see whatever it was, because though she was a nature lover her busy career meant she rarely had the time to get out and see the animals in their natural habitat. She stood, just waiting and staring, looking for the slightest sign but there was nothing there, so she turned back to her route and carried on, disappointed she hadn’t seen anything.
As she moved forward, she began to notice something wasn’t right, brought on by an unsettling feeling that someone was watching her and the culmination of her being alone, the silence around her, and the echo of that snapping twig in her mind. It all freaked her out a little and her feet started to move a little quicker as she found herself bringing her small backpack to the front, unzipping another side pocket, and pulling out her mobile phone. She glanced up into the woods again and couldn’t see anything, so she decided to just keep the phone in her hand ready in case anything happened.
Another crack of a twig sent her heartbeat racing. She turned, her eyes staring intensely towards the same area from which she thought it had come.
“Who’s there?”
The sound of her own voice made her feel very exposed like a fly in a spider’s web daring to move. She noticed the breeze had stopped and then she also realized that there wasn’t any sound. The call of the birds, the rustling of the leaves, the buzz of the insects that had been circling her clammy forehead had all gone deadly quiet as though she was in a silent movie.
She began to walk away as quickly as she could, her footsteps silent, yet stepping out a rhythm that matched the faint chants of a number of voices that began whispering around her. The words repeated over and over again, indeterminate sounds growing louder. Her feet gathered into a trot as she brought her phone up in front of her and began finding Dad’s details who happened to be the last person she’d called. She hit the call button and put the phone to her ear, her heart thumping hard in her chest when she suddenly saw a fog rolling towards her through the woods. She spun around on the spot not understanding where the fog had come from and saw that it was all around her closing in fast like a noose getting tighter and tighter. Panic began to grip her chest and she ran along the path into the fog, keeping her eyes on the ground so she could see where she was going. She found the silence and the fog disorientating and rapidly lost the path, feeling her heart rate pump harder as she moved further into the woods.
Her lifeline, the phone, had still not rung. She brought it away from her ear to look at the screen wondering what was happening. The phone was still dialing and was showing signal.
“Come on, Dad!”
She noticed that her phone screen was barely visible now, that it was becoming difficult to see in the dense fog, and she stopped walking. She put the phone back to her ear.
The whispering had been joined by other voices and her eyes darted back and forth as she heard footfalls and saw shadows moving in the fog. Shit! She began to spin around, expecting something to reach out to her at any moment.
An ear-piercing scream came through the fog. Bethany shrieked and sprinted forward. She glanced behind her, not seeing the oncoming tree which slammed into her right shoulder. Her face contorted in agony and her torso twisted as her six-foot body fell to the ground on top of her backpack. Her phone dropped from her hand landing among the sticks and leaves. In a blink, something threw itself at her from the fog. She saw a shadow and felt claws rake her neck. She screamed. A putrid smell hit her nostrils. She curled her fists and brought up her arms and knees to protect herself. The fog was so thick now that all she got was white eyes and wild hair before the thing began wildly clawing at her eyes and cheeks. She screamed again, using her hands to protect her face. Then something hard hit her head. She raised her hand to the spot, but she was hit again, and a dizzying sickness fell upon her. Her vision swam and her thoughts slowed. She saw movement and she gave a last desperate moan as something hit her head for a third time. Her vision went black and she lay there unable to move. There was no waiting. She felt something immediately pick up her right foot and drag her off through the woods. Her grip on the map loosened and it fell away. As she slipped into unconsciousness, she thought she could hear her Dad calling her from far away.
“Hello? Hello?!….Bethany!….is that you?”
She tried to call out to him, but the sound faded before it escaped her lips.
_____
“Hey, Tony, It’s Paul. I’m ringing regarding a….”
He paused, stuffing clothes into a rucksack, the mobile held to his ear by his right shoulder. He was still only in his boxer shorts even though it was four in the afternoon.
“No…It’s Paul Westman…”
He went into the bathroom and put his toothpaste and toothbrush into a washbag along with a comb. He grabbed the washbag and took it back through to the bedroom. He put it in his rucksack.
“…from the pub…yeah…fine thanks, how are you?….good. Look, I’m wondering if anyone from the club is flying over to West Wales this evening?” He found a pair of hiking trousers and his walking boots in the cupboard. He threw them all on the bed and looked for a fleece top which he found on the floor. He threw that on the bed as well.
“Oh!….Well, would anyone consider going…for cash?”
Grabbing the trousers, he began to put them on with one hand, the other now holding the phone.
“350 quid? Fpff! Would he do it for £150?”
He grabbed the boots and pushed his feet into each before grabbing the rucksack and heading into the lounge, his bootlaces skittering along the floor behind him like baby rats exploring for the first time. His eyes scanned the room for his car keys.
“uhuh!,,,£200? deal. Can we leave right away?….Great. I’ll be there in twenty minutes. Thanks Tony.”
He didn’t even push the hang up button before slipping the phone into his pocket. He sat on the couch doing up his shoelaces, his eyes still darting around the room for his damn car keys. He spotted them by the landline. He leaped to his feet, did up his trousers and grabbed the keys. He stepped into the kitchen and grabbed an empty plastic bottle out of the recycling box, filling it up before he ran back into the bedroom for the fleece top while also gathering up the case file he was working on. He put the lot in his rucksack. Then he was out the door of the flat and down the stairs, forgetting even to lock it behind him. At the bottom, he slapped his hand against his forehead and ran back up the stairs to the flat.
“Photograph, idiot!”
He ran into the bedroom and saw his pen knife on the keys for his motorbike by the bed. He thought for a moment about just taking the bike, but he knew Bethany didn’t like riding on it, so he settled for taking the penknife instead. He took it off the keys and put it in his pocket. Then he grabbed the photo frame from off the floor. He turned it over in his hands. It was him and Bethany celebrating her new job at St Joseph’s School two years before. It was recent enough. He put it in the rucksack and left the flat, locking the door behind him.
_____
Bethany came to sometime later, a throbbing pain in her face and neck, heaving her heavy mind out of the unconscious anguish it had settled in. She was cold. Her ankles and wrists felt like they were bound, the lack of blood flow to each causing her pins and needles almost to the point of being painful. She could hear the crackle of a fire and could still make out whispering voices coming at her from all around, though they were more hushed now. She felt a breeze blow across her torso suggesting she was no longer wearing the warm Gore-Tex jacket she had been wearing before and she could tell the backpack no longer weighed on her shoulders. Her heavy head gave her the impression she was hanging upside down. Where the hell was she? She tried to open her eyes but only achieved success with one eye as the other eye, she guessed, was swollen shut after her attacker had clawed her face, the wounds of which she could feel, still raw with its fresh memory. With her relatively good eye she tried to make out where she was though it was dark around her, very dark, and yet someway off the warm glow of flickering fire light illuminated what looked like cave walls.
A waft of smoke drifted to her nostrils followed by a rank stench which she immediately recognized the smell of; one she had reproduced in many a classic chemistry experiment at the school. It was burning Sulphur. She knew that burning such a substance also released other toxic chemicals and this caused her to worry about what she was breathing in. She wriggled her arms to try to free herself, but quickly realized they were bound tightly behind her, and when she tried the same with her long legs she accomplished nothing but making her upside-down body swing back and forth like a pendulum.
She tried another approach.
“Help!!!”
As the word escaped her lips, her scratchy voice sent any fleeting courage away like an exorcised demon. The sound rang mixing with the hushed whispers of the cave before echoing back at her like sonar pinpointing her location.
She heard a shuffling movement. The whispering chants grew more intense, the voices more fervorous, and the words were spat vehemently. A shimmer flickered below her head and she lifted her chin to stare into the darkness. What’s that? As the chanting continued the shimmer happened a second time like an electric current shooting across the floor. She heard movement again and a shadow caught her attention, rolling across the cave wall. The chanting grew louder. A figure moved across a fire, its bloated body too engorged to lift its feet, its back hunched like a Shepherd’s Crook. It rounded the corner, the light from behind casting darkness across it and Bethany could make out no detail bar the long arms that hung limply beside it, its long, talon like nails scratching the floor as the bloated shape closed in nearer and nearer.
The chanting had grown so loud now that Bethany struggled to block it out. The flashes of light flickered faster across the floor, the putrid smell of Sulphur intensifying and becoming now nauseating.
“What do you want from me?!”
She heard the thing whispering under its breath but couldn’t make out what it was saying as the distended mass continued to move slowly towards her, its wheezy breath forced as though it was exerting itself immeasurably. Each shuffled step brought the being closer, its hands dragging behind it, its whispers now audible, the sound of its voice discordant and jarring.
“Diiiieeeee……Everyone shall dddddiiiiiiiieeeee.”
Fear hit her and clung to her chest like a frightened child, shaking her violently. Sobs burst from her mouth like machine-gun fire and she began to whimper.
“Please…don’t hurt me.”
As it came within the last five meters, Bethany heard the slosh of water, realizing she was hanging above a pool. The thing was almost upon her now, wading towards her. Ew! That stench! She repulsed. Turning her head away as best she could. She gagged. The smell of rotting flesh more prominent than the sulphur. The thing reached her. The chanting erupted into wails and screams. She turned to look at her assailant, the flickers in the pool suddenly flashing brightly. She caught an image of the thing in front of her, fat and green covered in boils. Puss glistened on its skin. Misty white eyes where its cheeks should have been. Between them, a mouth stretching from forehead to chin full of a million needle like teeth and a spiked horn on its head that dissected two flaring nostrils. It stared into her heart. Strands of web-like hair clung to its bald, flaky scalp. It shrieked like the sound of screeching brakes. It raised its arm, its long twig-like fingers gripping something; something that glinted in the darkness. A knife! Bethany screamed as it swooshed through the air. It stabbed into her right shoulder, cutting deep into her flesh, the blinding pain shooting across her torso. The creature immediately wrenched the knife from her body. She shut her eyes, gritting her teeth, wincing, expecting repeated stabs to rain down on her.
The hot searing pain radiated from her shoulder. The wailing voices turned to screams of elation. She heard the sound of water again. She kept her eyes shut, but the expected stabs never came. The moment passed. She opened her eye. The flickering lights below, agitated as though they were alive and trying to escape the pool, now emanated a dusky glow through-out. Bethany could see she was deep in the belly of an old mine, hanging from the ceiling, her ropes the old, thick, shipping kind that would have anchored the Mary Rose to port. The thing had turned away from her now, its back scaly, returning the way it had come, wading through the pool which was now alive with electric darts.
She turned her attention to her shoulder. She could see the blood soak into her vest top, well, and then drip beneath her. As the blood mixed in the pool, the disquieted water began to boil, the flickering lights dulling in the maelstrom of fermenting froth churning just below her head. The thing reached the edge of the pool and continued on, back the way it had come.
She saw movement below her. A shadow moved in the pool and Bethany gasped as a glistening, reptilian arm warily reached out and grabbed the edge. Its claws scraped the floor as it took its weight. Then a second appeared, slapping against the cave floor, the claws tapping the stone sequentially. The arms strained and a foot appeared gripping the edge before a bald, rat-like head emerged hissing and spitting. It stayed in the churning water as it looked around surveying its surroundings. Bethany’s heart thumped hard in her throat as it looked up at her, opening its jaws to reveal razor sharp fangs. She whimpered as it snarled, spitting vehemently, and stretched up towards her. She closed her eyes tight once again. Oh God! Oh God! Oh God! Terror gripped her body and she felt her bladder empty. She could feel its wet nose press against her cheek and draw in a deep breath and she waited for it jaws to close around her neck. But again, the brutal emancipation from this nightmare never came. She heard the splash of water and as she opened her good eye, the beast stood at the edge on the other side of the now calm pool. In the dimming light she saw a hairless, rat-faced creature, walking on four limbs like a gorilla with a thick swishing tail, three-times taller than a man. It lowered its entire body to the ground, sniffed for a scent, and then furtively moved off through the cave.
Bethany began to cry. The relief flowing through her was palpable. The witch opposite continued to shuffle away, the blade still in its hands. The pool beneath her head began to flicker again as the lightning sparked across the pool surface. Feeling what was now a throbbing ache across the whole of her right chest, Bethany turned to her shoulder. In the dusky light, she saw the blood continuing to draw from the wound and watched it drip into the now calm pool. Then the water began to boil again. The froth churned and the dusky luminescence flourished. To her horror, a second claw reached out from the pool.
_____
The television went dark. Tim picked up the remote control from the arm next to him and pushed the “On” button but nothing happened. That’s strange! He pulled himself out of the armchair with some effort and walked over to the Panasonic, switching the button off and then on again but to no avail. It must be a power cut. He moved to the lamp and reached under the lampshade, clicking the switch with his thumb, disappointed when nothing happened there either. A growing sense of frustration grew within him, annoyed at the insensitivity of the electricity company, and he walked over to the telephone. He’d miss his programme because not everyone had “catch up TV”. He picked up the receiver, looking for their phone number on the electricity bill he kept by the phone. The bill was addressed to Col. Timothy Calford (Rtd). He put it to his ear. The line was dead. He stabbed at the hook a couple of times and listened; frowning, he hung up. How tiresome. He moved through to the kitchen and looked out the window at the evening sky. The scene was calm, the sea in the distance gently undulating below an almost set sun. It must have been a road accident somewhere. Lines down. Well, he was damned if he was going to sit at home in the dark all evening. It seemed to be pleasant enough for a stroll along the beach. The tide was on its way back in, but he’d have a couple of hours at least and, anyway, it would be dark in just under an hour. He put on his Wellington boots, Barbour jacket and flat cap and grabbed his walking stick before heading out the door.
He felt a chill in the evening air as he walked up the main road toward the old railroad crossing that would take him to the beach and the sea beyond. He reached into his Barbour pocket and pulled out a packet of cheap cigars and a lighter; a little luxury he often allowed himself as he ambled along the shoreline, inhaling the salty air. The cold, of course, was normal for this time of year as the summer heat conceded to the…
A scream pierced the evening serenity like a bursting balloon, and his eyes shot back to the village on the other side of the road. That was a woman. He waited, watching, his eyes wandering over the village outline, catching something moving between two of the buildings. Mr Cuickshanks’ house. He put his cigars and lighter back in his pocket and crossed the road, pushing open a small gate in the wall to a shortcut that lead back to the village from which he’d just come. Another scream rang out, this one male, but it was cut off; deathly and final. He walked quickly up the path along the wall of a house and materialized opposite Mr Cruickshanks’ cottage, just in time to see a towering, hairless monster snarling at old Mrs Baggotty. She was lying in the road, leaning up on one elbow. A half-eaten corpse lay next to her; blood still pumping from it, intestines visible but still packed in the corpse like the inside of a golf ball. Shakily holding up the cross from around her neck, Mrs Baggoty was defiantly reciting the Lord’s Prayer. “…Thy will be done on Earth and it is in Heaven…”
The rat-like monster hissed in apparent irritation. An identical monster appeared from around the cottage, behind her. It crept forward low, with legs apart. Its belly caressed the grass, the smell of fear its draw, its eyes fixed on her as saliva dripped in lacy strands from its jowls.
Tim made to move forward, to distract these fiends from their prize, when the first monster unexpectedly clamped its jaws over Mrs Baggotty’s skull. It picked her up as she screamed and shook its head violently. A sickening crack of her neck silenced her. There was a momentary hiatus as her body hung lifeless out of the side of its jaws, blood beginning to appear between the monster’s fangs. It wagged its tail. Then the creature whipped its head sideways like a Jack Russell, the body flailing around in its jaws. Another rapid gyration of the head caused a sickening wrench as her head ripped from the torso, a spray of blood misted the air as the body flew up. The second monster leaped and caught it in its jaws as the first one swallowed the head whole. The second creature lifted its head back and in three gulping motions ingested her entire body, clothes, cross and all. Tim fell back in horror onto his backside. My God! The second monster spotted his movement. Tim crawled backwards in panic, but the beast leaped across the garden. It was upon him, its claw pinning his leg to prevent escape. Tim screamed at the agony of his impaled thigh muscle. He kicked his other leg to free himself. The creature lowered its head. Tim felt his body tense with fear. The beast sniffed him. Then it sat up, looking around, watching a third monster arrive behind it. It snarled at the newcomer. Tim grabbed his walking stick and tried to jab hard at the creature’s foot hoping to dislodge it. The rat-like monster turned and hissed, baring razor-sharp fangs.
The sound of a gun rang in Tim’s ears and he saw the creature somersault backwards, landing on the road.
“Quick, Tim, down here,” came a voice.
The third creature leaped over him. There was scream, cut short as the jaws snapped shut on something. He heard a crunch and a squelch. Blood splattered across his face. Without hesitation, Tim twisted, seeing blood and gristle, another half-eaten corpse, and then stairs heading down into a garden. He kicked himself onto his feet, dodging through the monster’s legs, hobbling down the stairs two at a time. He heard commotion behind him, the sound of jaws snapping, but he didn’t look. He reached the bottom and turned a corner, ducking through an open door, he slammed it shut behind him and sighed his relief.
He stepped into the room and looked around. He was in a study. It was Davy Prost’s residence. Of course, it was. God bless you, Mr.Prost. Rest in Peace, old chap. Davy had been a nice addition to the village since relocating there three years ago to be close to his Granddaughter.
There was a snarl from outside and then three claws drove through the door, splintering the wood and forcing him onward into the house. He limped into a corridor and ducked to the right through a low door. He was in a bedroom. He looked around for a phone or weapon but there was nothing. He sat himself on the corner of the bed and, grabbing a dressing gown cord, he tied it tightly around the open wound in his right thigh muscle. Then he wiped his face with his sleeve before he hobbled back through the house looking for any sort of weapon. He walked up the stairs to street level coming into a kitchen.
“Oh Tim, thank God it’s you. Is Davy with you?”
He looked over at the pantry. Molly Prost knelt on the floor peering out from the doorway.
“No. I was going for a walk when I was chased by creatures. Your back door was open, Molly, so I ducked inside…”
She nodded her understanding.
“We saw them through the window. Davy told me to hide in the pantry.”
He went to her and helped her up. She wore a Good Housekeeping pinafore.
“They’re everywhere,” he said, “I don’t know what they are or where they’ve come from. We need to get help.”
“I tried the police, but the phone lines are down. My mobile phone doesn’t work either.” “Internet?”
“Nope. That’s down too.”
“Everything’s down?”
She shrugged.
“Yes…in this house at any rate” she said.
“Do you have a car?”
Molly pointed out the window to the street at the front of the house.
“It’s Davy’s.”
The car looked in good condition.
“Can I borrow it, Molly? I need to get to the Police Station.”
She nodded.
“Of course, Tim.”
He looked at the kitchen drawers.
“And I need a weapon as well, just in case.”
She showed him the knife draw and he quickly found a couple of big knives. With her permission, he put one in each Barbour pocket. Then he took the car keys she offered him, opening the car using the key fob. He set his walking stick down by the door.
“Davy is right. I think you’re safest if you stay here, hidden in the pantry. I’ll be back with help as soon as I can.”
She smiled though there was nothing but fear in her eyes. She went back inside.
“Be careful,” she said.
Wrenching the front door open, he pulled it shut behind him and jumped into the car, pushing the key into the ignition. It started first time. He took off down the street, accelerating the rev counter up into the red, and rounded the bend before depressing the clutch and changing into second. He saw lots of creatures. That was an understatement. He could see a small army of them. Hell’s invading. Terrified, he pushed the accelerator more, shifting up into third. One of the creatures suddenly landed in the road in front of him. He swerved but the creature pounced, trapping the rear of the car with both front claws, and pushing all its weight down on it. The sudden deceleration discharged the airbag in his face, shattering his nose. His kinetic energy lifted him from his seat; his old body launching through the windscreen like a cannonball. He flew, the air cool on his face, and then he hit the road. One of the blades in his pocket cut deep into his hip and the tarmac scraped the skin on his face. He yelled in agony, managing to twist, using his Barbour to protect himself. Then, his head thumped against the stone base of the old Lychgate and the lights went out.
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