Interlopers From Hell

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Book excerpt

Re-awakening…

A darkness spread across the open ground like an oil spill –  thick, putrid, and dangerous – soaking into the earth to poison and contaminate. At its heart, as black as the night, a twisted shape writhed. Inhuman, yet possessing identifiable human aspects, legs, torso, arms as thick as any python’s body. Within the congealed ooze, the body gyrated as if to some unheard music, a macabre dance, at once spasmodic yet strangely hypnotic. Nearby, white-clad spectators stared in wide-eyed disbelief as the thing moved and grew before them.

Its massive head, featuring a mass of white, bloated, writhing worms, expanded fastest. From its wide, slack mouth, a lolling blue-black tongue wriggled and slurped, an overwhelming stench of decay drizzling from its cavernous centre. Between its teeth hung the source of this reek – shreds of torn flesh, still dripping with blood. Its feast the feast of death.

“Come to us,” cried out a tall figure appearing from amongst the crowd. “Let us bow down before you and offer you tribute!”

Falling to his knees, he pressed his forehead to the ground, arms spread out before him. Others followed, dropping like stone, some in awe, most in shock.

A tremor rippled through the onlookers as the enormity of what they witnessed took hold. Had this truly happened? How? What curious mechanisms conspired to conjure up this demon? From where had it come? Those who asked such questions, daring only to form them in their minds, knew any such utterances would result in their certain death, a terrible death at that. So they watched and they stared, but none spoke. None dared.

A scream pierced the night air, shrill enough to shatter glass. A girl, a flimsy nightdress unable to disguise her nakedness, was borne through the press of onlookers, held aloft by six men, two beneath her, the others gripping each of her four limbs. She struggled but could not free herself, begging for mercy, calling out to her mother, her lover, anyone who could hear.

But no one did.

They brought her into the swirling darkness where, in the middle, a curious manikin stood, made from straw, rags and paper. It was large, perhaps eight feet in height. Arms aloft, legs splayed, its shape formed a crude cross. The head, if it could be called such, was plain with no features, a mask of woven straw.

The men bore the girl towards this curious statue and paraded her before the crowd, all holding blazing torches aloft, baying for blood, or perhaps something else. Twisting her body from side to side, the girl kicked out, struggling in a vain attempt to escape. Nothing worked. Those who held her were too strong, and they bundled her into the manikin through an opening in its back. When she was inside, they secured the entrance with wooden poles and stepped back to admire what they had achieved.

“Raise her up and place her above the pit!”

The pit, some half-dozen steps away, was a large gash in the earth. In its centre, a thick post, sharpened at the tip. Perhaps twelve or more feet high, due to the depth of the pit, its point barely protruded above ground.

“Impale her!”

The girl inside lashed out, her initial shock at being incarcerated in this macabre mimicry of a man subsiding as she kicked and pushed against the fastened hatch. There was little space for her to move and, unable to apply enough leverage to make her blows effective, she crumpled and sat, weeping.

The hatch held firm. And now, the bearers, joined by many more, lifted the manikin and took it to the dugout. Around them, the spectators gasped as the men slowly lowered the structure onto the sharpened post. The weight of the structure meant it slipped onto the sharpened pole with little difficulty. A great howl came from within as the point pierced the rough floor of the mannikin and sliced through her flesh. The men lifted her and lowered her again. And again, repeating their exertions until the blood seeped through the straw and paper and dripped thick and slow into the depths of the pit.

Her screams continued. She was not yet dead, despite the shaft perforating her body, haemorrhaging muscle and sinew.

Without a word, the tall, thin man strode forward, gesturing for the bearers to step away. An unspoken command and a woman stepped forward to place a lighted torch into his hand. He held it high. “For you, oh great one!” He then tossed it, with almost dismissive ease, into the pit. Instantly it erupted into flame, igniting a mass of previously prepared bundles of straw, soaked in oil. Within a blink, the flames lapped upwards to engulf the blood-soaked manikin.

The girl within cried out in a last, pathetic attempt to ward off any more harm to her already corrupted body, whilst behind, silhouetted against the glow, the form of the demon reared, and it screeched in exultation as it fed. Sated, it drew away, the girl’s screams now silenced. The flames took hold, circling the manikin, its entire hideous form swallowed up in the heat and intensity of the blaze.

Hours later, with many of them returning to their homes, a few of the elders remained behind, warming their hands over the dying embers sizzling amongst the debris of the pit. The crackling and spitting of the smouldering remnants sounded impossibly loud in the stillness of the night.

“You’ll be moving on soon,” said one of the men, fixing the one who had lit the fire with unblinking, searching eyes. “Now that it is done.”

“Aye. As far away from here as is possible. We all should lie low until we are summoned.”

“Summoned to do what this time, do you think?”

“Whatever we are asked.”

“When will that be?” asked another, unable to disguise the trembling in his voice.

“Soon enough.”

“You talk in riddles. Do we have to wait an entire lifetime?”

“Maybe more than one. We will know when we are summoned.”

“You’re elevated now, into the very highest of states. I envy you.”

“I’ve lost much.”

“But gained far more. Unending life.”

“Aye.”

They fell into silence, thoughts lost amongst the swirling worms of smoke. Nothing of the girl remained, only the memory of her screams.

“And where will you go?”

“Our gracious master has given me the tools to avenge the wrongs done to my family.”

“To all of our families.”

The thin man narrowed his eyes. “Soon, we will see them suffer, and I shall extinguish their line. Forever. Then our master shall feast on their souls.”

“So,” asked another, voice uncertain, afraid, “where shall this begin?”

“Where we once were. England. The middle parts of that land.”

“And when will you leave?”

A small snigger. “I am already there.”

Chapter One

The press of boys surrounded the newcomer, jeering and baying loudly like a pack of dogs out on the hunt. One of them, a big, burly lad of around fifteen, looked to his gang of acolytes, licking drooling lips in expectation, and jabbed the much more slightly built boy in front of him in the chest with a meaty finger.

“Edwin? What sort of a name is that?”

Edwin held the other’s hard stare, unflinching, even a little defiant. He looked from one contorted boy’s face to the next. “It’s my name,” he said. “What do you want me to say?”

A louder chorus of laughter. The big lad shook his head, pulled a face, and chimed in a mocking, sing-song tone, “Poor little Edwin – far from home and all alone!”

“Leave him alone, Stanmore.”

The new voice cracked like a whip, causing all of them to turn and gape.

The big lad’s face registered anger at having his fun interrupted, but his snarl caught in his throat when he recognised the boy stepping up close to Edwin.

“This has got nothing to do with you, Lawler,” said Stanmore, confidence leaking away.

“It’s none of your business,” piped up one of the gang, doing his best to show support but failing. Fear sizzled in the air.

“I’m making it my business,” said Lawler, the older boy, hands on hips, daring them to challenge him further, “so back off.”

For a moment, the atmosphere crackled with tension, nobody moving, all waiting for something to happen. Even the noise and mayhem of the playground faded away into the background. For now, this was the centre of the world.

Shaking his head, Lawler put a friendly arm around Edwin’s shoulder and steered him away from the grumbling and very disappointed group of thugs who gradually wandered away, muttering angrily to one another.

“Thank you,” breathed Edwin when they were safely out of earshot.

“Try and keep away from that lot. I don’t think they’ll bother you again, not now they think you’re my friend.” Lawler smiled. “I’m Brian Lawler. You’re new here, aren’t you?” Edwin nodded. “Have you met anyone yet?”

“No, it’s only my first day. Don’t know a soul.”

“Okay. Let me introduce you to some decent kids.” He stopped and looked down at the considerably smaller Edwin. “Look, I don’t mean to be rude or anything …but don’t tell them your name is Edwin …Try Eddy. Honestly, you’ll get on much better that way.”

Edwin beamed and nodded in agreement, seeming to realize immediately the sense of Brian’s words. “Eddy it is.”

The boy given the task of befriending Eddy angrily kicked at the ground and watched Brian Lawler disappear amongst the melee of school break time. He noted the half-amused expressions on the faces of his two friends standing close by and glared at them.

“He is very kind,” said Eddy.

The boy turned and regarded Eddy, as he was introduced, and shrugged. “He’s Brian Lawler, toughest boy in school as well as one of the kindest. But he’s not someone you can easily say no to. But most of us owe him for helping us out with bullies such as Stanmore.”

“Stanmore. Yes, not a nice person that one.”

“He’s a turd.”

“Oh. Yes. Well …”

“And Stanmore despises Brian because of the way he sticks up for us. Ruining his fun.” He cleared his throat and stuck out his hand. “I’m Richard or Ritchie as some call me. Ritchie Rich.” One of the friends nearby chuckled. Richard ignored him, and Eddy gripped his hand and shook it firmly.

“Richard Rich. The man who betrayed Thomas More,” said Edwin, a slight smile creasing his mouth. Richard frowned.

“Weird to start in the middle of term,” said one of the others, who sat on the playground floor with his head down, rolling poker dice.

“Yes,” replied Eddy. But he offered nothing more.

The poker player looked up. “How come?”

“Just one of those things, I suppose.”

Richard’s frown grew deeper as he and the others waited. With no explanation offered, Richard simply shrugged. “It’s okay if you don’t want to tell us anything. You’re here now, so … what do you know?”

“Know?” Eddy seemed to fall into deep thought for a moment. “I don’t ‘know’ anything very much. Like I said, I’ve only just arrived.”

The others exchanged perplexed looks before turning away to join their other friend at playing dice. Richard took Eddy by the arm and led him a few steps away.

“Listen, Eddy, you’ve made a bad start, okay, but not everyone is a dickhead like Stanmore.”

“A dick-what?”

“You’re weird, Eddy. Where are you from?”

Nothing again. Just that look. Closed. He wasn’t going to let anyone in.

“Okay, listen, getting on the wrong side of Stanmore was not the brightest thing to have done, you understand?”

“I didn’t get on the wrong side of him. He got on the wrong side of me.”

“Eh?” Richard scratched his head. “Look, Eddy, I don’t really know what to say, but just watch it, okay. If Stanmore hears you talking like that, he’ll make your life a misery. Stanmore’s a nasty piece of work.”

“I have noticed, Richard.”

“Yeah, I’m sure, but I don’t think you really get it, Eddy. He can hurt you. He’s done it before, to most of us. And Brian isn’t always going to be around.”

“Richard, you mustn’t underestimate me. I am not afraid of this Stanmore person. I understand your concern, but you must trust me when I say, I can control the situation.”

“Okay…” Richard’s voice trailed away. “You talk as if you’ve stepped out of another century, Eddy.” He silently cursed Brian Lawler for choosing him to act as Eddy’s guide and mentor. “Look, I'll stay with you for the next few days, show you around, introduce you to some people. You’ll soon fit in.”

“Fit in? You mean become accepted?”

“Do I? Yeah, well, I suppose I do.” Richard pursed his lips. “I’d really like to know where you come from, Eddy. You don’t have to tell me, but you’re interesting.” He chuckled. “Your accent, it’s—”

“Strange?” Eddy nodded. “Most people say that. It’s because I’ve moved around so much. My family hardly ever settles in any place for long. My grandfather’s work means he often gets called away to different places across the country, often at very short notice. Then we have to pack up and move on.”

“What does your dad do?”

“Dad?” A pained expression crossed his face, as if he had never heard the word before. Slowly, his face cleared. “Ah, yes, I understand. Dad. No, I have no father, Richard, if that is what you mean. He died. My grandfather is head of the household, and it is he who decides when and where we move.” He looked out across the playground, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. “I have been to many schools in many places. Always the children have been distant to me. Some have been kind, most indifferent. One or two, like Stanmore, violent. Aggressive. Almost as if they see in me a threat of some kind.” He shrugged his shoulders and turned again to face Richard. “I have encountered the various facets of society, some attractive, some not so, but I have always strived to maintain my decorum. It is essential if one is to remain true to one’s self. That, for me, is the most valuable trait of all. I am who I am, Richard. People can accept or reject me as they so wish. It is all the same to me.”

Richard paused in the act of scratching his head again. It was the only response he could give to Eddy’s old-fashioned, clipped tone. “The way you talk … Eddy, have you come from a public school or something?”

“Ah, yes, some of my schools have been public. Independent, I believe, is the correct terminology.”

“There you go again. Terminology? Nobody speaks like you, Eddy. Nobody I know, anyway.”

“I see. Does it bother you? Do I make you feel uncomfortable, Richard? Or do I intrigue you?”

“I …” Richard, deftly avoiding the question, forced a laugh. “Eddy, you need to be careful. The way you are, it’s going to get you into trouble.”

“The way I am? I’m nothing special, Richard. I’m just alone and afraid, that’s all.”

“Afraid? God, Eddy, you don’t have to be afraid.” Standing there, blond hair flopping over his eyes, looking so pathetic, so small, Richard couldn’t help but feel sorry for him. “I’m guessing that moving around from place to place, making friends can’t be easy.”

“I don’t have any friends, Richard. As you have intimated, I’ve never been in one place long enough. I’m hoping that this time …” His eyes became distant again, and he looked down at his feet, shuffling them.

Intimated? Richard eyed him carefully, struck again by the oddness of this new boy. The way Eddy spoke, his manner, the way he constantly looked into the distance. He seemed to be looking at something. Richard couldn’t quite put his finger on it, but this kid would forever be a perfect target for bullies such as Stanmore. Anyone different, or weird, they were bound to attract attention. And Eddy had certainly done that because he acted very weird indeed. Perhaps because of this very oddness, Richard warmed to him. Eddy was interesting, the way he spoke about stuff: mysterious, a little bit exciting. A sudden thought struck him. “Tell you what, why don’t we meet up after school and I'll take you down to Bradshaw’s. Buy you an ice-cream, or something.”

       This invitation brought a curious reaction from the newcomer. He grew agitated, shifting his weight from one foot to the next before taking to chewing his fingernails. “I’m not sure, Richard.”

Richard snorted. “Look,” he said, awkwardness turning to anger, “I’ve held out the hand of friendship, but if you’re not bothered, then we won’t go.”

“No, it’s not that!” Eddy’s face took on a wild, desperate look, and he squeezed Richard’s left arm. “I'll have to tell my folks. Perhaps you could come home with me, and I will ask if it would be appropriate for me to accompany you to the – the ice-cream parlour.”

Richard managed a single nod, which proved enough for Eddy to react as if he’d just won a prize. Beaming brightly, he steered a bemused Richard back to join his friends. He pointed to the dice on the ground. “Now, tell me all about this interesting game.”