The Turning E-Book

Phil Price

• Herausgeber: Next Chapter
• Kategorie: Abenteuer, Thriller, Horror
• Sprache: Englisch

Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2022

Beschreibung

He had escaped the horrors of the last few months. Started a new life, with his new family.

His life was returning to normal, his scars healing.

Until they found him.

His loved ones were taken to their world, to their horrors. Now, Jake must follow, hoping it’s not too late.

But will he reach them in time... before they are turned against him?

Leseprobe

The Turning

The Forsaken Series Book 2

Phil Price

Copyright (C) 2018 Phil Price

Layout design and Copyright (C) 2020 by Next Chapter

Published 2020 by Next Chapter

Cover art by Cover Mint

This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without the author's permission.

Many thanks to my wife Angie for her help, love, and patience.

Special thanks also to Kelly Miles. You've been an inspiration.

All that we see or seem is but a dream within a dream. -Edgar Allen Poe

Prologue

The man sat at his writing desk, his laptop barely illuminating the cramped study. No writing was being done. On the desk was a heavy crystal tumbler, half filled with golden liquid. The bottle sat a few inches away. He always enjoyed a glass of whisky, opting usually for a nice bottle of single malt. However, over the last few months his drinking had increased, fuelled by the bad dreams and indecision that wracked his thoughts. The whisky had dropped in price and quality. As long as it did the job and eased him into a deep dreamless sleep, he didn't care. Another sip was taken before continuing his reading. Over the last few months he'd read more and more about vampire folklore. It appeared that every civilisation from since the dawn of time held various accounts and stories of the mysterious creatures. He was currently reading the account of an unfortunate girl in Cornwall at the turn of the seventeenth century. The web page was framed in black, twisted wraiths and skulls dotted around its perimeter. It gave the screen a macabre feel, seeming to lower the temperature in the small room. The young girl in question had been visited by a vampire before her death. The local clergy had buried her in an unmarked grave. A stone tablet had been placed in her mouth, the casket filled with Hawthorn to ward off evil. The man took off his steel rimmed glasses and pinched the top of his nose, closing his eyes as he did so. A large hand rubbed at his bearded face. A beard that was showing more silver every day it seemed. He sat for a minute in silent contemplation before nodding to himself. The fiery liquid was downed in one go, the burn spreading from his throat down into his chest. He stood and shuffled out of the study into the darkened hallway. Slipping on his sports jacket and loafers, the man opened the cupboard under the stairs. Reaching inside, he flicked the light switch, bathing the hallway in a yellowy hue. He moved garments out of his way on the hanging pole until reaching the winter coat at the back. The man reached into the large pocket, drawing out a silver cross. He weighed it in his left hand, liking the sturdy feel it gave off. His palm tingled as he slapped it with the metal object. He flexed his fingers before stowing the cross in his jacket pocket. Walking down the hallway, he scooped his keys from the side table, dropping them in his trouser pocket. A mobile phone and an old wrist watch were found next. He pressed a button on the keypad, making the display glow. Quarter past eleven. He had enough time. His watch was clipped on his wrist, the phone stashed in his inside pocket just in case he needed it. For what, he knew not. If what he may encounter was a possibility, calling the emergency services would be a waste of time. It would certainly give the operator on the other end of the line an unusual twist to their night, the man thought. He spotted a lighter on the window sill and put that in his pocket, purely on a whim. Walking back through the house to the front door, he stopped at a picture on the wall of his wife, Denise. She had travelled to Ipswich to tend her dying mother. She'd told him to stay behind to perform his duty. A duty that was ebbing away it seemed. She'd noticed the empty whisky bottles in the recycling, coupled with witnessing his troubled dreams. Dreams that had started several months before. On several occasions, she had woken to find him mumbling incoherently in his sleep, clearly distressed. When she'd gently questioned him at the breakfast table the following morning, he would make excuses of late night movies that had followed him into his subconscious. She'd let it go. If it needed to come out it would in the fullness of time. She also had a grieving mother, who'd recently lost her husband and was now on her last legs too. They had busy lives, full of duty to loved ones. He locked the door and walked down his front path, turning right passing a tired row of shops. What once had been a thriving community now seemed like a ghost town. The local car factory had closed a few years before, hitting the area hard. This was coupled with a world-wide recession a few years later that left its scars on the whole country. Times had been tough, and things would take time to recover. He unzipped his coat as he started sweating. Summer was struggling to give up its hold on the land. Autumn could wait.

Ten minutes later he was walking past his local pub. The Hare and Hounds had a warm glow that gave the establishment an inviting pull. It was Friday night and the revellers inside looked like they had no intention of finishing up. The man had been young once. He knew people were winding down after their week at work. As he passed by the entrance, a young couple burst through the double doors, giggling at some private joke. They spotted the man and their laughter died down.

“Hello Father Stephen,” the man said. “Isn't it a bit late for a stroll?”

“Hello John, Sarah. I've had a cold over the last few days. I thought I'd take a walk before turning in for the night.” He looked at the young couple. He'd known them from when they had attended the local primary school, some twenty years before. “Finishing early?”

“We thought we'd beat the rush to the chippy. It can get crowded as they all spill out of the Hounds.”

“What's on the menu tonight?” he said as he suddenly smelt the aroma floating from the chip shop.

“Chicken and mushroom pie and chips for me and a kebab for greedy guts here,” Sarah said as she nudged her husband in the ribs.

“Well, enjoy your midnight feast. Be seeing you.”

“Goodnight Father,” they said in unison, before heading off towards the chip shop. He hung back a few steps, letting them enter the brightly lit frontage before he followed. He made a right turn just before the two shops, heading up a steep dark roadway. At just shy of two metres and tipping the scales at twenty stone, Father Stephen found the ascent arduous. His breathing was ragged as he climbed further and further towards his destination. He paused and checked the display on his phone. Ten minutes until midnight. He knew he would reach the spot in time. The Vicar had only visited it once before, but it was clear in his memory. He'd caught up with Doug a few days after his friend had banged on his Vicarage door in the middle of the night to ask him for help with his son. It was the night when his whole world, his faith, his understanding had been turned on its head. A few days later the two men had made their way to the spot on a crisp winter's morning. The silent hills had seemed devoid of such fanciful tales as vampires and doorways. He had known Doug for thirty years, trusting his word implicitly. However, that word had been tested on that night. Now, as he stood at the spot he suddenly felt wary. Stephen checked his phone again. Two minutes to go. He instinctively wrapped his hand around the cross in his pocket. The coolness comforting. The night was deathly quiet, the only sound he could hear was his slowing heartbeat and breathing. He stood there looking at two stout trees, positioned three feet apart. Suddenly the wind kicked up along the hillside, sending leaves and bracken skittering across the forest floor. He felt a building pressure in his head before his ears popped. Strange, he thought as a low hum filled his skull. Oh God! In front of his eyes a faint blue glow seemed to appear between the trees. It quickly made the shape of a doorway. He walked towards it, aware that the cross in his hand was now warm. He pulled it from his pocket, letting it bounce against his thigh as he walked. He stood within reach of the doorway as it gently pulsed between the trees. He could hear sounds on the other side. Wild sounds. Shrieks and wails that seemed out of place in the Lickey Hills.

“Unbelievable. Doug was right,” he muttered. Stephen was a man of Christ. All his life he'd followed the good book with unwavering commitment. Now everything that he'd once believed was being torn apart. He was staring at a doorway to another world. Another universe. Another dimension. He wasn't sure what to call it. The Vicar knew it was not part of his world. How could his God exist when this doorway did too? He made up his mind quickly, knowing he had limited time. He stepped through the void. Into the unknown.

One

September 2010

“Come on Douglas. The estate agent is waiting,” Alison said through the open car door. Doug was trying to multi-task. His new mobile phone had been on charge as they'd driven down from the Midlands. Unplugging it, whilst under scrutiny from his wife was making him a bit ruffled.

“Okay. I'm done,” he said as he climbed out of the car, shutting the door. He walked around the boot, coming to a stop next to his wife.

She tutted. “Tuck your shirt in. Look at your jacket. It's all skew.”

“Oh no! We can't have that, can we? What would the new neighbours say?”

His wife gave him a stern look as another woman approached from the house that had a sign swaying in front of it. Doug forgot Alison's expression as the other woman introduced herself.

“Mr. and Mrs. Stevenson?” They nodded. “Lynn Bustard, Atlantic Estates. How was your journey down?”

Alison shook the woman's hand, appraising her coolly. She noticed with a degree of envy that the woman was roughly her age, but wore it far better. She was slim, with short grey hair, cut stylishly. Not like the mass of red and grey curls that she fought to keep under control every day. Her face didn't look like the face of a sixty-year-old. Maybe she'd had work done, she thought smugly. “Mostly fine. A bit of traffic around Bristol but nothing to write home about. I'm Alison. This is Doug,” she said as almost an afterthought.

Doug shook the agent's hand, a warm smile crinkling his face. “Pleased to meet you Lynn. Unusual name. Bustard?”

“Yes,” she said. “Like the bird. Had a few nicknames at school as I'm sure you can imagine. Your wife told me over the phone that your house is sold and that you're looking to move as soon as possible.”

Doug liked her Cornish twang. “Yes. Our buyers have had surveys done and all appears to be in order. So we're a few weeks behind them in terms of schedule. But that isn't a problem. Our son and daughter-in-law have just moved to Tintagel and we'll be able to bed down with them if needed.” The agent nodded before walking up the pretty garden path towards the property. Doug watched her walk, noticing that she had dark seamed nylons on. His wife caught him looking at her legs before bustling past him, tutting as she did so. He stood for a moment, smiling. If only all women dressed like that, he thought before trudging up the path after them.

* * *

Jake came around the corner of the cul-de-sac, noticing his parents' car parked next to the dormer bungalow. He could see the front door was open. At least they got here on time, he thought. The Atlantic wind kicked up, ruffling his dark hair and clothing. The ocean was to his left. Sparse clouds on the horizon gave the vista a picture postcard look. He ran his fingers through his locks before stepping off the pavement to cross the street. He had a carefree stride, long and loping. The horrors of the last few months seemed to have been blown away on the ocean breeze. His leg was better, apart from the two scars that would forever be tattooed there. One had been a flesh wound, the other deeper. He kept his eye on them, doing what had to be done to ensure they were under control. He'd never spent so much time in church as he did now. Katherine played along, knowing it helped his leg heal. To what extent it would heal was still uncertain. He felt fine though. More than fine. He'd never felt better. Whether that was due to the sea air, or due to his love for Katherine, he knew not. He did not care. The last few months were becoming a fuzzy memory. He still had the dreams. He still woke up sometimes in a sweat, checking the bedroom for signs of danger. However, no danger could be found. All was as it should be in Jake's life. For that, he was beyond grateful. His life had risen from the depths of despair and grief from a few years previous, when he'd lost his young wife and daughter to a hit and run. They would never be forgotten. Jake knew that. Katherine knew that. He had a new focus now though. Katherine was due to give birth within the next few weeks. The last few months had been a whirl of activity, taking their minds off of the horrors beforehand. Their third bedroom had been turned into a nursery. Katherine was like the proverbial kid in a sweet shop when Jake had taken her to a retail park near Truro. They had spent most of the afternoon buying all manner of baby clothes, travel systems, bottles, sterilizers, and other items that they'd need for the arrival. Jake also bought two large cans of emulsion for the walls. Pink emulsion. The moment they discovered that Katherine was pregnant, Jake realised they had a problem. She didn't exist, certainly not on paper. She would need scans and visits to the doctors. How could she do that if there was no record of her? He'd made a call to Swanley, to ask a huge favour. Katherine needed an identity. The giant traveller and Jake had history. They had an understanding. They would help each other if needed. Swanley had put Jake in touch with an associate, who for a considerable fee had provided her with a life. He was told her identification would hold up under regular scrutiny. However, intense digging would pull holes in it. Jake knew that this was the best he could hope for. If the worst came to the worst, he knew they had an escape route. A doorway, between two trees in a far off forest.

* * *

Jake heard voices as he neared the bungalow. He looked up at the first floor window to see his mother, who was fiddling with the curtains. She noticed him and waved. He reciprocated before heading up the path, stepping through the open doorway into the hall. The voices grew louder as he made his way to the kitchen at the rear of the property.

“Hi Dad,” he said, noticing an attractive older woman stood next to a breakfast bar.

“Hey Son,” Doug beamed, grabbing him in a bear hug. “This is Lynn. Lynn, this is Jake.”

Jake met the advancing woman halfway across the kitchen, taking her manicured hand. “Nice to meet you Lynn.”

“Likewise Jake. I was just telling your father about the local pubs. I think I've won him over.”

Doug nodded his agreement. “The Cornishman's Arms sounds right up my street. Jake took me to the,” he hesitated, plucking the name from his memory. “King Arthur a few months back. That wasn't bad either. I think I'll enjoy life down here.”

Alison entered the kitchen, making a fuss of her son as soon as she caught sight of him. “Hello Jake,” she gushed, unusually so. “How is Katherine?”

“Hi Mom. She's fine. She's having a bit of a nap.”

Alison looked at the estate agent. “She's expecting their first child.”

“Congratulations. Sounds like you're moving at the right time.”

“Well we need to find the right house first,” Alison cut in, cooling the temperature in the kitchen somewhat.

Sensing a change in mood Jake decided to talk shop. “So what do you both think of the house?”

Lynn could also sense that a frosty cloak had descended over the room. She cut in before either Stevenson could answer. “I'll be outside. I need to make a few calls. Give me a shout when you're finished.” She excused herself, smiling at Doug as she left the kitchen.

“What's up?” Jake said.

“Nothing Son,” Doug said. “The house seems fine. It even has an en-suite.”

“Your Father would buy anything from a woman who dresses like that. You can pick your jaw up off the floor now Douglas.” He smiled at his wife serenely. Turning up the annoyance to gas mark hot.

“What do you think of the house Mom?” Jake said, trying to thaw the ice.

“Well, I'm not over keen on some of the decor. Bit modern for me. But it's just about the right size. I agree with your Father, the en-suite is something that I've always wanted. And I suppose the location is perfect. I just hope our furniture fits the house.”

“It will love. And if it doesn't we can buy new furniture. Our sofa is looking a little tired.” Alison looked at Doug and nodded sagely. The idea of some new furniture perked her spirits up. The harlot outside was forgotten momentarily.

“Well, I'll pop back home and get the kettle on. The spare room is ready for you. I'll let you talk to the estate agent. I'm sure you have things to discuss,” Jake said, secretly winking at his dad.

* * *

Jake made his way along the path towards the village. The sun was on its way towards its western horizon where it would kiss the Atlantic Ocean, before disappearing for the night. Tourists and surfers walked past him as he made his way up the high street. Children sat on walls, eating ice creams while parents looked at their smart phones, glad of the few minute's peace. Jake turned right off the path into what looked like the world's oldest post office. He'd always thought it looked like a giant had been sat on its roof, bending it beyond repair. He'd been told by one of the locals that it was the most photographed post office in the world. Jake had no reason to doubt that fact. After all, who photographs post offices? He ducked inside and walked to the deserted counter.

A woman with long brown hair approached. She smiled when she saw Jake. “Hello,” she said in her soft South African accent. “How's Katherine?”

“Hi Angie. She's fine. Just resting up. Not long now.”

“Ah. Bless. She needs to rest now. She won't get chance once baby arrives. Tell her I said hi. I'll have to pop round and have a catch up with her.” She looked at Jake expectantly.

Forgetting what he was standing there for, he hastily produced a piece of paper. “The postman left this for me,” he said handing over the card.

She took it from him and excused herself to the rear store room. A moment later she returned with a small parcel. “Here you go. Must have been near a fridge. It feels cold.” Jake took the small package and looked at the label. It was addressed to him. No sender's details were on the reverse side. It did feel cool to the touch, solid too. He would open it at home, away from inquisitive eyes.

“Okay. Cheers Angela. See you soon.” She said her goodbyes and turned to a small elderly woman stood behind him. Jake tucked the box under his arm and made his way out into the warm summer's afternoon. He walked home, thinking about what would be a good choice for dinner as the world passed him by. The warm sea breeze blew around his bare legs and tousled his hair as he made his way along the coastal path towards his home. An imposing hotel lay far off to the left. The sun hovered behind it, slowly sinking towards the ocean. He loved the view. He would never tire of it. All his life had been spent as far away from the sea as was possible in England. Birmingham seemed a world away. Cornwall had given him a new lease of life. He'd endured hardships on his journey to this happy place. He had seen horrors and places he'd never known existed. However, the hard times had yielded Katherine. And for that, he was happy. He would never forget his wife and daughter. They were as much a part of him as Katherine was. However, it felt like their chapter had been read. This part of the book was a new journey, with each page exciting and full of hope.

* * *

He walked the last few yards back to their house, spotting his parents' car on the drive. He made his way through the carport to a side door, entering the kitchen. Katherine smiled as he entered, her sun kissed skin glowing in the late afternoon light. Her long dark locks had been recently cut, with highlights added. They seemed to catch the sun and shimmer as her hair flicked from side to side. She truly believed she belonged in this world. Salons and coffee shops were fast becoming a way of life for her, which she loved. Gone were the times when she'd wear the same garments for days on end, only to wash them in a bucket outside her family farmstead, before hanging them to dry on the porch. She now had a wardrobe filled with clothes and shoes. She had gained new girlfriends, whom she socialised with regularly. She was as happy as she could remember. The only slight downside was that she tired quickly at night. Even before she became heavily pregnant, she noticed that she started to flag before Jake. The air felt different here to her. It almost had a substance to it that she could feel as she moved around the house, or felt as she walked along the beach. She'd not mentioned it to him. They'd endured enough for now. She placed her arms on the kitchen chair, trying to heave her bulk into a standing position.

“It's okay, babe. I'll come to you,” Jake said as he quickly crossed the kitchen, planting a long lingering kiss on her lips. He then bent lower and kissed her bump.

“I would say get a room. But by the looks of it you've already have,” Doug said from the far side of the kitchen.

“Your Father is making sport with us,” Katherine said as she smiled at the older man. “He is pulling my leg.”

“As oppose to pulling on your legs?” Jake said, teasing.

“Are you teaming up on me?” she asked, a mock look of indignation appearing on her face.

Before Jake could answer his mother entered the kitchen, clearly put out by something. “I heard voices. Jake, you're home! What are you talking about? Am I missing out on something?” Alison hated it when she could hear a conversation, but couldn't quite make out the words.

“Doug and Jake were just teasing me as I'm struggling to get out of the chair,” Katherine smoothly interjected. She had become accustomed to Alison's moodiness. She had quickly learned how to diffuse situations too. Katherine loved her mother-in-law to be, although she knew she was hard work. Her father-in-law was different though. He was funny and warm. Doug constantly teased her, but in a nice way. The older man reminded her a little of her uncle. A small cloud crossed her sunny horizon. She missed Wilf. Katherine often wondered what had become of him and his villagers. She hoped they'd made it to safety. Maybe to a different land that wasn't in the grip of darkness. The cloud passed by, allowing the sunshine back in.

Alison was fussing around the sink, making a lot of noise without doing much. “Well, these men don't know the struggles us women go through. They have an easy ride in life.” Doug looked to the heavens, a bewildered expression crossing his face. Katherine finally levered herself out of the chair and crossed to Alison, embracing her warmly. The tea towel fell from her grip as she was taken off guard momentarily. She quickly regained her composure, returning the hug. She loved Katherine. There was an innocence about her that the older woman felt very comfortable with. She was a real lady, never uttering a curse, unlike most of the women today with their tattoos and piercings. Alison often thought that the younger woman could have been from a classic novel, such was her way. Katherine walked over to her man, wrapping an arm around his waist, cuddling into him.

Jake kissed the top of her head, drinking in her smell. “Well, what shall we have for tea?” he asked them. “Fish and chips?”

“Well, it is Friday,” Doug said. “Sounds good to me.” Alison nodded before aiming a cough at her husband. Doug took the hint. “I'll get them. A bit of fresh air will do me good.”

* * *

A few minutes later he was on his way out the kitchen door, armed with a piece of paper. Katherine took Alison upstairs to show her the new baby accessories in the nursery, leaving Jake alone in the kitchen. He sat down at the wooden table, his fingers clumsily unwrapping the parcel. Inside, was a cardboard box and a note. Leaving the box for a moment, he unfolded the piece of paper. Suddenly his phone chimed, informing him that he had a text. Putting the paper on the table, Jake fumbled for the phone in his pocket. He pulled it out and activated it. It was a text from a potential client, who wanted to arrange a meeting with him soon. He closed the message, backing out to the home screen. Jake sat and smiled at Katherine who smiled back at him from the screens display. It was a recent picture, taken when they'd spent the day at Woolacombe. The wind had caught her hair perfectly at the moment he'd snapped the shot. She was smiling warmly at the camera, an ice cream shack behind her with white planking, giving the shot a holiday feel. He reluctantly put the phone on the table, picking up the piece of paper once more.

Hi Jake

I hope Katherine and yourself are well. The baby must be just around the corner now by my reckoning. Exciting times ahead!

Anyway, the reason for the delivery is to send you something. I wanted to mount them for you, which you might think odd. However, I think they look rather natty. Plus, Hooper really doesn't like them close by so I thought I'd pass them on to you.

I will be in touch soon and may pop over once baby has settled.

Take care both.

Barbara

Xx

Jake put the note down and took the box in his hands. It felt very cool to the touch. He reached for his house keys, breaking the tape on the box with his car key. He opened the box, withdrawing a wooden box frame from inside. Jake drew his breath in, holding it for several seconds. The box frame contained two small buttons that had been mounted on the backing card. The interior of the frame looked like purple faux suede, giving it a look of quality. The wood was coffee coloured and felt like oak. The buttons were about the size of a coin. Much thicker though. They looked more like toggles from a heavy coat. On each button was an eagle, its wings spread. Jake's hands were starting to tingle. He was suddenly transported back to where he'd claimed one of the buttons. He'd torn it from the coat of a young boy moments before he'd been torn to pieces by two mutated killer whales. He wasn't a regular boy though. He was a vampire. A vampire that was about to kill Katherine and himself in a dark cavern by the sea. He reflected for a moment. How the hell we managed to get out of that place in one piece is still hard to believe, he thought. They had escaped the cavern, only for Katherine to be snatched away by another vampire. He thought about how he and Wilf had escaped from that desolate place, chased by two monstrous pigs. He shook his head. He knew that if anyone was told that tale they'd be reaching for the phone or running for the hills. He'd sat and recounted the story to his father a few days after Doug had found Jake at the Lickey Hills, a giant fang embedded in his thigh. Doug was a believer and yet he'd found it almost too much to comprehend. Jake was at a loss. What should he do with this gift? It was harmless, yet it wasn't. The cold, dead heart of their previous owner was still imbedded in the metal. He would keep them, but not in the house.

* * *

Jake flicked the light on to his loft that sat above his carport. He climbed the ladder, the metal creaking under his weight. He stood in the gloomy space, looking around for the best place to keep them. Over by the far wall was a set of four plastic storage boxes. Each one had a lid that enabled it to sit on top of the box underneath securely. They were labelled in years. They contained Katie and Megan's things, along with some of his travel memories. He clicked off the lid from the top box. Inside was his wife's jewellery box along with handmade photo albums. His mind pondered whether to take them out and leaf through them. Maybe another time, Jake thought as he placed the box frame on top of them, securing the lid back in place with a satisfying click. The light was flicked off as the ladder was descended, pushing it back into the loft on its runners. The hinged door was lifted into place just as his father came around the front wall and up the driveway towards him.

“Have you got enough there?” Jake asked, eying the bulging brown paper bag that Doug was carrying.

“You know your Mom. She likes her food.” He motioned towards the loft. “What you up to? Finding a place for her to sleep tonight?”

Jake laughed. “I'm sure she'd love hearing you say that.” He paused. “I received a parcel from Barbara. You know, the lady from Devon.”

Doug's face suddenly looked wary. “Is everything okay?”

“I think so. I'll show you when traffic inside is a little lighter. Maybe Mom will take Katherine for a cream tea tomorrow. I will show you then.”

“Tomorrow it is then. Any excuse for cream tea and she's off like Usain Bolt.”

Two

South of Elksberg

The lone mountain stood proud and solemn over the land. To the east, the land rose steadily towards a huge gorge that ran like a crippled spine from south to north. The north was a nondescript grassland, dotted with farms and outcrops. To the south lay swamps that carried on for miles towards the grey sea. They were crisscrossed with paths and stunted trees. To the west lay a sprawling forest that stretched as far as any eye could see. Darkened mountains lay farther off to the west, shrouded in low cloud. On the upper slopes of the lone mountain that folk called Agar a figure sat in the shadows of an enclave, brooding. He scanned the land in three directions, looking for any signs of movement. Pickings had grown slim lately. He knew why. The forest to the west lay in darkness. He could see that it was not low cloud that made it dark like before. The darkness seemed to seep from the earth, wrapping itself around the trees that had stood for countless seasons. It unsettled him. Something was wrong with that place. He knew that if he plucked up the courage a doorway could take him somewhere else. Somewhere new. Try as he might he could not bring himself to venture towards it just yet. The nights were the worst. Noises and voices carried to him from the vast forest, making him pull his knees up under his chin and shiver. The forest was actually two forests, joined together. The one, Amatoll was where Eddie had recently ventured. He'd entered through a doorway and had taken the soul of a young girl. That had seemed to start a chain of events that culminated with two battles. Two battles that he'd been involved in. Two battles that had taken their toll.

Eddie looked at his ruined hand. He remembered the young man whom he'd challenged to follow him and his woman. How he'd blasted three fingers from his hand with his weapon. It had all gone so wrong. Eddie was ready to be accepted into a new coven. He'd done all the hard work, travelling through two worlds to bring his new master a prize, telling his new family that a single man would be following. The trap had been set. Reggan's clan were ready for an easy fight with one man. But two men had arrived, with a strange looking creature alongside them. No sooner had the fight erupted, Eddie knew that things would turn ill. The little creature with the flaming eyes took down half of the clan while the men did the rest. He had flown at Jake, hoping to take his head clean off. The man was cunning though. He was quick and his aim was true. The hand that was aiming at Jake's head suddenly lost half of its form as the shotgun blasted it apart. Eddie had reeled back as the man fired another shot, peppering him with lead. He tried to attack, but was repelled by the older one with his cross and weapons. He fled the cave. The last thing he remembered seeing was the younger man locked in a fight with Reggan. That was when he knew all was lost. Others must have heard the fighting and were running to help. However the damage had been done. They would blame Eddie for bringing this to their door. He fled from the catacombs out into the relentless storms. He'd blindly stumbled through the landscape as stones and debris pummelled him. Eventually he found refuge in an underground lake that was devoid of life. The water fizzed and bubbled as he lay trying to gather his thoughts. He didn't feel pain like humans. Biting the remains of his damaged fingers off didn't affect him in that way. To Eddie, it looked repulsive. His grey skin was tattered and torn around the wound, exposing the yellowed flesh and stark bone underneath. Even now it had not healed. It was exposed. Only the thumb and index finger had escaped the blast. He had wrapped and old rag around it to keep it concealed. But to no avail. He needed a glove. The prey that he had encountered since were traders and wanderers. Once he'd drained their life, he'd searched them for anything of use. Nothing. He would find one though. He needed a plan.

He'd sat on this forlorn rock licking his wounds for long enough. Eddie had thought about revenge. He'd imagined twisting the head from the young man's body. Drinking his blood, before taking his woman too. However nice it played out for him, he knew that Jake was dangerous. His thoughts strayed to Elias. He had no idea what had become of Korgan's henchman. The last time he'd seen him was during the battle in the Vale. They had locked horns during the fight, reluctantly coming to an accord at the end. Elias had left the humans for him as he'd set off to hunt Jake and the woman. That seemed like a lifetime ago now. He shook his head, clearing his thoughts. He looked over the expanse of forest as the shrouded sun kissed the mountain far off to the west. He moved further into the recess, away from the wind and sounds. Curling up as tight as he could, he began to plot his course.

* * *

Far off to the east the village of Shetland was hosting a union party for two of the folk. The village had been transformed over the last few seasons. The solitary farmhouse was now accompanied by six additional homes. When Wilf and his kin had arrived in haste at Fingles, Zeebu and Zeeba the elders, had provided shelter. Over the next few days they'd held talks with Wilf and the folk from Elksberg. Although strange in appearance, with stunted bodies and giant heads, the Finglers were good allies. The next day they had proceeded to accompany the villagers out to Shetland to begin work on a new home for them. Now, as Wilf stood puffing on his pipe he thanked whatever gods were out there. His folk were safe. They had a new home, and the food was plentiful. Some of the women had even started a vegetable patch down by the ford. The ford was where Shetland joined the long rocky spit of land that led back to Fingles. Wilf remembered as he puffed his pipe how they'd just managed to pull Jake from the frigid waters before he was torn apart by two Orgas. The arrival of that young Outlander had altered the path of their lives. For the better though, as it had led them all to Shetland. One of the first jobs they'd completed when they started work was to build a bridge over the ford. The Brynn Halfsted swamps to the north had provided the wood for the bridge and homes. It was unnaturally springy, but tough as steel. The village of Fingles was built almost entirely from the special timber, as it absorbed the sea's wrath with ease. The bridge was quickly erected, giving the villagers unrestricted access to the mainland. The tides still had to be watched as the roadway to the mainland almost disappeared when the sea levels rose. Only a stout tree halfway to the mainland would offer refuge to any traveller or villager who became marooned. Wilf was content. He had almost everything he needed, with one exception. His niece Katherine was not here. She was far away, under a different sky. Wilf hoped that she was safe, happy, and that the sun warmed her skin every day. If only he could see her once more. To hold her to him and feel her warm embrace. The old man smiled at the thought. Jake would be taking care of her. He didn't hope, he knew. He walked inside the farmhouse, his stiff legs taking a moment to get going. In the snug living room, he sat himself down at the table with a thump. He reached across to the earthenware bottle and mug, pulling them towards him. He flipped the mug upright and poured a good measure of hokie. He took a swig, letting the spirit sink in. His mind was drifting back a few seasons, honing in on that night.

He was cast back to Reggan's stronghold. A dank lair that had made his brother Korgan's seem almost lavish. They had come to reclaim their loved ones. The diminutive figure that stood with them was there for his sister. Wilf played it out in his mind once more. He had spotted the bulky vampire almost immediately. Their eyes locked. Wilf remembered how they'd drawn him in, soothing his fears. The eyes wanted him to be their friend. To drop his trinkets and talk.

It had almost worked before the strange figure with them, shook him from his trance. “Don't fall for his charms, we're here to fight,” he said to him. The vampire called Eddie knew his hold was broken. Wilf watched frozen as Jake and Tamatan set about the hoard. Jake felled two with his shotgun, making sure with a stake to each of their dead hearts. Tamatan took down four in the blink of an eye. In a blur he sucked what life force remained inside from them, leaving withered husks on the cold stone floor. Wilf noticed the bulky one make his move. He flew at Jake, ready for the kill. Wilf watched frozen in horror, knowing that the young man was done for. Or so he thought. In a flash, Jake's shotgun had taken the hand from the beast. He fell backwards towards the tomb. Another blast had sent him crashing into the wall, beaten. That's when Wilf was spurred into action. His cross came out, shining bright in the gloom. Any foes that were still standing were pushed back by its force. The power of light over dark. He turned to see Tamatan wincing at the sign of the cross. Wilf knew instantly that it was hurting him. Although he was their companion, he too belonged to the darkness. He slipped the cross back into his bag, noticing the bulky one beating a retreat. It had been too easy. Or so he thought. Reggan was not done just yet. Jake was reloading his weapon when he was plucked into the tomb by two large hands. The outlander cried out in anger as the beast clamped its huge jaws into his thigh. Wilf watched helplessly as the monster worried Jake's leg, shaking his head from side to side. He'd come to love the strange outlander. He might have been the son that he'd never had. Now he saw him locked in a deadly battle with a giant vampire. Before Wilf could try to help, Jake raised his shotgun, firing it point blank into the beast's face. Reggan's head was blasted against the cave wall, chunks of bone and brain creating a hideous collage on the red rock. Jake fell out of the tomb, floundering on the floor before he limped back to where the now headless Reggan lay. Screaming as he did so, Jake unloaded the rest of his shotgun into the vampire's body. When the shotgun was empty, Jake pulled two stakes from his pack, stabbing the corpse over and over until he finally slumped to the floor exhausted and crying.

Tamatan had finished the rest of the fighting, leaving the floor littered with bodies. He looked at Wilf, his red eyes burning with blood lust. He then relaxed, sniffing the air. “This way,” he shouted, heading off into a low corridor.

Wilf looked at Jake. “Stay here. I think he is going to lead us to his sister and Katherine.” Jake nodded, sweat and blood splattered across his face. Wilf had only reached the entrance to the corridor when Tamatan emerged with a strange looking creature. Her skin was deep green that seemed to shimmer in the torch light. She moved with a grace and fluidity that seemed almost unnatural. Her eyes sparkled like vibrant emeralds, green tears running down her beautiful face.

“JAKE!” Katherine shouted from the entrance to the tunnel.

Jake looked up at the sound of her voice. “Kath,” he blurted, his emotions boiling over as she broke away from Wilf, running over to him. They embraced, kissing, sobbing. Trying to find the words to convey their joy at being reunited. Jake tried to lift her into his arms but suddenly lost his footing, wincing as he put her down.

Katherine looked down at his leg as Wilf, Tamatan, and his sister joined them. “You're hurt Jake,” she exclaimed as she saw a giant grey fang protruding from his leg. “We need to get you help.” She looked at her uncle. “How can we help him? Do we need a healer?”

“We need a shaman,” Wilf said looking worried. “And fast. Trouble is finding one. We need to get back through the doorway as quick as we can. But we may be searching for a long time in Elksberg.”

“I know someone who can help us,” Jake said through gritted teeth. “We need to get back to my home.”

Tamatan's sister who had been silent until now walked forward and knelt in front of Jake. She looked up at him, taking his leg in her hands. “Veltan,” she said in a soft voice. And bowed her head to the floor.

“Veltan is her name,” said Tamatan. “She is going to delay the spread of infection. It will drain her strength. But she can take it, for she is strong.”

“Infection?” Jake said as he suddenly felt the throbbing in his leg subside. It was being replaced by a tingling coolness that felt like pins and needles.

“Jake has been bitten by a vampire. And not just any vampire. By a king. A powerful vampire king,” Tamatan exclaimed. “If he doesn't get help soon he may start turning. My sister is slowing down the spread. Once she has finished we must be on our way as fast as we can. Jake, who is this person who you think can help us?”

“I've known him all my life. His name is Father Stephen.”

Tamatan nodded as a deep drone came rolling through the passageway. “We must move. We have won this battle but there are things deep down below us that are stirring. Things that we really do not want to become acquainted with. We must make haste, or we may never live to tell this tale.”

* * *

Wilf stood there as the doorway vanished before his eyes. He shut them tight, the outline visible under the lids. “Goodbye Katherine,” he muttered before turning to Tamatan and Veltan. Their eyes shimmering in the darkness. “What now? It feels like we have dark things heading our way.”

“We feel it too,” Tamatan nodded. Veltan looked around her, spooked by something that Wilf could not see nor hear. The forest was coming alive above them. Birds and other animals started to call and wail as wisps of mist drifted through the trees towards them. Wilf shuddered as he felt a cold wind ruffle his clothing. “Something is coming for us. We need to be gone from this place. How far to your village?”

“Not far.” He pointed off into the forest as the wisps of mist were gathering around the trees, wrapping themselves around the trunks. Wilf could make out faces in the mist that almost stilled his heart. Hideous faces with blackened pits for eyes. Gaping mouths laden with fangs. The others saw this too. Veltan let out a low moan as her brother took her hand. “Follow me,” Wilf said as they broke into a run towards the far off lights of Heronveld. Wilf lost his footing a few times on unseen branches and plants, almost falling over. He could not afford to stop. The forest was protesting their escape as they neared the flickering torches of his village. He called out, “FOLK. WAKE UP. WAKE UP!” Wisps of smoke started falling from the trees, malevolent faces blocking Wilf's path to the village. He pulled out his cross and held it at arm's length as he ran. It instantly lit up, banishing the mist around him. He heard Tamatan and Veltan cry out in anguish, knowing that it was affecting them. He turned to look at them behind him. “I'm sorry. Stay with me. We are almost at Banners Gate.”

“We will endure. Don't put the cross away until you reach the village,” Tamatan said. Wilf could see a few of the villagers stumbling sleepily from their homes. They gathered on the village green looking anxiously at the noises they could hear in the darkness. Wilf banged into the heavy wooden gate at the edge of the forest. He half climbed, half floundered over it, landing in a heap on the other side. Two strong hands lifted him as though he was a baby, propelling him towards the group of men and women on the patch of grass.

One woman cried out in horror. “MONSTERS!”

Wilf waved his hands at them, trying to gather himself. “Folk,” he began, trying to draw breath. “They are not monsters. They are our friends. They've just helped me free Katherine from the other place. The place where Reggan lies.” At hearing the name, villagers started cowering and crossing themselves. “Reggan is no more. The outlander Jake put pay to him. He has taken Kath back to his land where they will be safe. Now we must flee. Whatever was lurking in that land has followed us back here and wishes us all harm.” The forest was filled with noise and mist. A long tendril snaked its way through the gate and headed towards them.

“Fuckenell!” a man gasped as he pointed towards its advance. They all turned to face the oncoming mist. The women ran for their homes as children stood on the porches, crying and confused.

“WOMEN AND CHILDREN INSIDE!” Wilf shouted as the men closed into a tight circle. The long streak of mist began taking form in front of them. They all stared in silent horror as it took on a human shape. A long misty cloak constantly changed shape as it was blown by the forest. The face was a dark pit, except for two yellow eyes that shone out towards them. Wilf advanced on the misty apparition, his cross held aloft.

“NOOOOOOO,” it wailed, evaporating into the grass.

Wilf looked at the group behind him, his heart racing. “I'm not sure what we've done by destroying Reggan, but something has stirred and has followed us. We need to leave as soon as it's light. Pack up everything that is vital. We leave for Shetland at dawn.”

“But this is our home,” a tall man called Pat challenged back.

“Look at the forest Pat,” Wilf said. The men folk knew they had to flee. Any arguments were futile. “Gather up your things. We must go. We can start a new life in Shetland. Trust in me.” The men made their way back to their homes leaving the threesome stood on the damp grass. Wilf suddenly felt very small, and exposed. “Come with me,” he said to the couple as he made his way towards his home. Inside he quickly poured three mugs of hokie, downing his mug in one go. He lit two candles on the table before pouring another. Taking a smaller sip. The burn felt good. It felt real. Veltan sat in a wooden chair. Wilf suddenly noticed that she looked exhausted. He turned to Tamatan. “What is your plan?”

“We will head west at first light. I think that we've unearthed something that Reggan was holding under his power. Who knows what it is. Whatever it is, it is evil and we need to be as far away from it as possible. I only hope our forays were worth it.” He looked at his sister, concern etched on his face.

Wilf considered his statement for a moment. “What is out west? I've never ventured too far that way. Cedric and I travelled as far as the glades at the edge of Amatoll. A pair of huge black unicorns forced us back towards home. That was long ago,” he said, trying to recollect.

“We will head for Monk's Passage. It's a long road, with many foes scattered here and there. If we make it through the passage we will then cross Mantz forest.” He looked at the old man, his eyes like two red orbs. “You think Amatoll is big. Mantz is huge. The trees are an impenetrable blanket which have laid waste to many a traveller over the ages. No two trees are more than this far apart,” he said, spreading his arms. “It's dark as night once you're in there. That's the way they like it.”

“They?” Wilf said.

“The Cravens. They are human, just. They eat anything that strays into their woods. Animal, man, monster. If they can kill it, they eat it. That will be a testing bit of sport,” he said chuckling. “If we can make it through the forest I can reacquaint myself with an old friend who has a boat. He can take us to the Unseen Lands across the sea. That's where my kin hail from. I've not been there for a long time.”

Wilf pondered the little demon's words. He looked across at his sister who had now curled up, lightly snoring. Her turquoise skin shimmering in the candle light. He considered his statement for a moment. “We've fought well and won through. Katherine is safe with Jake. We will build a new life at Shetland. And you,” he walked over to Tamatan, holding his weathered hand out to him. “Whatever your name truly is, you now have your sister back.”

Tamatan took Wilf's hand, shaking it gently. “Thank you.”

“Thank you too, my friend.”

At hearing Wilf's words his face lit up in a beaming smile that outshone the candles. “Tis such a strange happening that would make man and demon friends. However, we are both the better for it,” he said, slapping Wilf on the back.

* * *

Wilf's thoughts were interrupted by a knock at the door. The memory blew away like sea mist on a morning's breeze. “Yes?” he croaked.

A young man entered the low slung room, a look of hesitation on his face. “Sorry to disturb you Wilf. The happy couple are about to perform their union dance. They want the Elder to oversee it.”

“Of course. I will be out in a minute. Tell them to prepare.” The young man excused himself as Wilf levered himself to his feet. Tamatan's words echoed in his ears. He smiled to himself. A dark forest full of cannibals. Let's hope I'm never stupid enough to end up in that hell hole, he thought as he made his way outside to the dance.

Three

Kerry Hardman knocked on the front door as a storm rumbled its way across the land. She stood there, kicking her feet on the stone slabs as she waited for the door to open.

“Kerry. Hi,” Jake said as he moved to one side. “Come in before it pours it down.”

“Thanks,” she said as she shuffled past him into the hallway. “Where's Katherine?”

“She's out with my Mom. Dad has dropped them off. He will be back in a bit. He needs to see the estate agent first.”

“Cool. Did they like the house?”

“Yes. Very much so. He's going to make an offer, so fingers crossed. You want a cup of tea?”

“Do you have coffee?”

“We do. I can even make you a proper one if you fancy?”

“Sounds great,” she said, her smile lighting up her face. “Milk with two please.” Jake walked through to the rear kitchen with Kerry following. She slouched against the counter while Jake made himself busy with the kettle and café tier.

He turned and looked over at Kerry who was nibbling her thumb. “So, how's things?”

She pinched her nose up slightly. “Good, I guess.” Jake knew that he would be doing most of the talking. Unless he mentioned video games. Then he would not be able to shut Kerry up. They'd met her months before, not long after they'd moved in. Her father, a mixed race ex-hippy, was their postman. He'd recommended Kerry to Jake when he told him his that his laptop was playing up. A few hours later a mid-twenties girl with coffee coloured skin, a tangle of black hair, and square-rimmed black glasses had knocked on his door. They had both warmed to her, especially Katherine who took an instant shine to her quiet and polite manner. She started fidgeting, thinking of some small talk that would get the conversation flowing. “How's business? Still searching for lost souls?”

“You make me sound like some sort of ghost hunter,” he said chuckling. “Things are surprisingly good. There has been lots of work coming my way, which I'm surprised about. I didn't think a place like this would too need too many private investigators.”

“Oh but it does. Lots of people around these parts go missing. Two of my friends did a few years ago. Vanished off the face of the Earth. It's because there is not much work. People get into bad habits like drugs and theft. Then all of a sudden they're AWOL.”

“Did your friends turn up okay?” Jake asked intrigued.

“Yes. One went to Ibiza with a friend but neglected to tell anyone. The other had met a man online, who was from a place called Doncaster or something. A few weeks later she was home with all her laundry.”

“Well it sounds like I'll be busy for the next twenty years or so. Hopefully not too many trips to Doncaster though. It's grim up north.” Kerry laughed as he handed her a thin china mug filled with coffee. The ice was well and truly melting.

* * *

The two men walked out of the estate agents' office into the late summer sun. A warm breeze blew down the high street from the Atlantic, buffeting them gently as they chatted. Storm clouds on the horizon were being blown inland towards the village.

“I'll phone you as soon as I get a response from the vendor,” the estate agent said, his northern accent sounding out of place this far south.

“Thanks Jeff,” Doug said happily.

“I can't see there being any problems. The house has been empty for a few months and they are keen to sell.”

“I'll keep my fingers crossed. How do you like Cornwall as oppose to Manchester?”

The younger man considered the question for a second. He was a good ten years Doug's junior, dressed in a grey pinstripe suit. His greying hair was cut short and styled. The older man's hair was cut by his wife and never styled. “I'm from Salford originally. But I've not lived there for years. Before I moved here I was in Birmingham, not too far from where you live now I guess.”

“So what made you give up the lights of Brum for this dive?”