Chapter 2:

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Horror  |  House: Booksie Classic

Reads: 299

 

To look upon the landscape that early morning, just as the sun was creeping over the hills, blurting out an orange aura, anyone would have recognised the frantic driving of Julia Stratford. Made all the more apparent by the headlights flickering through the woods at high speed. She cared little for the eventuality of any local wildlife jumping out in front of her or for the damage she was doing to the simple red three door car that had been hers for eleven years. It’s struggling, sputtering engine echoed throughout the valley ominously as it was so early in the morning nothing else but dust and leaves seemed to stir in the early wind.

Her son, Alexander gripped his passenger seat tightly, horrified by recent events erupting in his mind more violently, it seemed, than in reality. He couldn’t believe his pursuit of curiosity would have ever led to this much pain and suffering. It was his curiosity, after all that led to the deaths of his father and sister. The country home they had come to love over the past eight years would forever be a reminder of all these things, sitting alone, broken and silent behind them. With these horrible happenings fresh in the minds of both in the little red car, the two remained silent for hours and hours on end. Alex’s mother had been driving for seven hours and to make an educated guess, he knew they were somewhere on the other side of Britain by now. Alex had finally calmed himself a little and closed his eyes, trusting his mother not to crash, and tried to think objectively for a moment. It was difficult. Ever the survivor, he pushed the terrible memories aside to make room for the thoughts that would keep him and his mother alive. He tried to compartmentalise, imagining his mind as a computer, putting all the worry and dread into the recycle bin. Then from out of the blue, it occurred to him ‘Shit!’. His mother turned and looked at him, wondering what was the matter. After all the hours of silence, she didn’t exactly want to hear something negative. ‘I left my experiences journal in the house!’, Alex proclaimed but he knew he’d get no sympathy. ‘Well we’re not going back for it now! I never want to have anything to do with that house ever again. And I pity the poor sods who live in it next’. By now, Alex had become frustrated at his mother’s lack of understanding. ‘Look mum, you don’t get it do you? It doesn’t matter how convinced you are about your own theory on the matter; you’re wrong. Lucy...’. Julia snapped around to look at her son, intently. ‘How do you know that’s her...it’s name? Hm?’. She still hadn’t understood or listened to a word he tried explaining to her during the haunting.

‘The same way I knew Tim’s name when we went to that house viewing. After our little experience there I know you tried to push it to the back of your mind but it’s still there, I know. Plus, hadn’t it occurred to you why the estate agents man wasn’t there to welcome us in? Lucy came and terrorised us because we crossed into her territory. We got lucky. What do you think happened to him?’. His comments were met with only silence so he continued ‘Look mum, I know it’s hard for you to accept and I haven’t even told you this yet... But I went back to that house. To speak to Tim properly.’

‘You did what?!’. Ignoring his mother’s disapproval, he pressed on.

‘Tim told me everything about the supernatural realm and how it all works. Beyond that realm is un-death. Where souls go into oblivion. He told me everything, Mum! I thought it was a major breakthrough just speaking to him, but what he told me was far beyond anything humanity is aware of!’. Fighting her denial just for the time being, Julia asked her son ‘What about Tim, now?’

‘Well, Lucy broke the rules. If you die outside then outside is your arena and cannot go indoors. She died in a bus crash so, outside she should remain. As you know, she got into our home. Mum, she manipulated my laptop to communicate with me! She even had a physical effect on the television to carve a message into it! The stronger a spirit is, emotionally, the more powerful it will be. Lucy’s little anger is only getting bigger. I wouldn’t be surprised if she had spoken to her brother by now. Whether or not he’s drifting in oblivion, I don’t know. Perhaps Tim is the only one she won’t destroy. He’s the only family she has left’. It was the calmest and most controlled explanation he had ever given his mother. It certainly sunk in as her face was overwhelmed with emotion and she gripped the steering wheel tighter than ever before. She couldn’t believe all this was happening and pulled over in the nearest lay-by. The two took a break on their road to nowhere and gathered their thoughts. ‘Shall I drive for a while?’. They swapped places and Alex turned the headlights on. They’d been travelling all day and had nothing to eat.

While resting, staring into the road, cars passing by occasionally, Alex couldn’t remove the image of his sister being thrown violently around the living room. She smashed into his Mum and Dad’s antique vases, up onto the ceiling and just as quickly back into the floor and into the fireplace for a moment. She rolled out, slipping from unconsciousness to death. Alex’s father had died alongside his mother as they were fleeing Lucy in his splitting up plan. Although his mother had not yet spoken a word about it. Returning home without him was statement enough. Returning to the house, to learn from Tim to speak assertively to Lucy, had cost Alex his father’s life. One little clue for a life. Alex gave in to anger and hatred and wanted revenge. He wanted to destroy Lucy any way possible. Yet he didn’t know how and the frustration was killing him.

Many vehicles had gone past by now. Little red ones like the one he and his mother were in, people carriers, vans, lorries and motorcycles. Although one sped past and for a brief time, Alex felt the same undeniably strong presence of a spirit as the car drove on by. It was black, had two passengers and was particularly non-descript. Most suspiciously, it didn’t have a number plate. Before long, the strange black car had disappeared in the rear view mirror around the next corner, leaving behind it only the faint hum of the engine. Alex thought it was strange and nothing worth commenting on to his mother but certainly something worth thinking on.


Submitted: March 09, 2012

© Copyright 2022 Nick Banks. All rights reserved.

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