I have to stop writing horror stories, I'm rubbish at them! Decided to round this off so that I could concentrate on writing Summer Bay High on BTTB with Kat.
Chapter 4
Final Chapter
Evil took many forms and they had before nearly been fooled by the black-eyed people. Except when they got closer, the eyes would be the hollow eyes of the undead...
Three years.
Three years gone by in the blink of an eye, with a tear, with a sigh, we come to say goodbye...
Robbie had written a new poem and the words were still running round in his mind. He wrote a new poem every year, on the anniversary. Henry and the rest of the Hunter family said they weren't very good poems. But they smiled fondly. Henry was yet to be convinced about sleep/dream conductor that he had first thought of inventing that fateful night, but Robbie was nothing if not an optimist and still believed he could change his mind.
Looking down at the grave, he pushed up his glasses and wiped a tear from the corner of his eye. Tasha squeezed his hand. Their love needed no words. It had grown, nurtured and cherished by each touch, each glance, by the freedom of the wild breeze and the gentle warmth of the sun. It would always be.
Brushing back tears with the back of her hand, Martha carefully laid her flowers, a beautiful colourful bouquet of tulips, roses and chrysanthemums, and stepped back into Jack's arms.
"I love you," Jack said, wrapping his arms around her, kissing her hair.
"Love you too," she whispered back, looking sadly down at the grave. They had marked the spot where the young couple perished with a simple headstone.
"It must have been a terrifying death for them," Tasha quietly reflected.
"It was," Jade agreed, feeling Nick's fingers lock tightly in her own. "The flames burnt the flesh from their faces and thick smoke filled their lungs. It was small comfort to know they were already dying. The plague had touched them all now and the heatwave had dried up the streams. There was no food and no more than a mouthful of fresh water left for each.
"Jacinta and Tom didn't know they were seeing a ghostly monastery that had burnt down hundreds of years before and that the monks' procession was a ghostly funeral procession. They were running away to be together. Her family considered her far superior to an illiterate stable boy. But who can help who they fall in love with?"
Jade spoke from the heart. Kirsty had fallen in love with Kane Phillips. They were married now, with a small son, Jamie. But nothing could change history. Nothing could change the fact Kane had once attacked their older sister Dani. Kane had long since expressed remorse and Dani had long since forgiven him but history stayed the same. It always would.
Hundreds and hundreds and hundreds of years of history, layer upon layer upon layer, hidden beneath the earth's crust, long forgotten now, making us who we are.
"Jacinta and Tom had heard the legend of Brooding Hill. Few took that route alone back in the 1800s. Solitary travellers told terrifying tales of how they had been followed by ghostly footsteps, heard ghostly voices or seen ghostly processions. The wise woman, a hermit who lived many years in the cave near the sea, warned those who would listen not to follow the ghostly orbs, for they would lead them to certain death. But the wise woman had been dead herself a century or more before Jacinta and Tom undertook their tragic journey and Brooding Hill was the quickest way to flee.
"Then we saw a light," Jacinta whispered, the light fragrance of lavender that always accompanied her presence lingering on the air. Jade closed her eyes, seeing too what Jacinta and Tom had seen.
Her friends waited, curious to hear the story, as Jade repeated Jacinta's words.
"Dozens of lights seeming to want us to follow. We followed. At the top of Brooding Hill we saw sanctuary. A monastery! Its bells pealing and the lights of candles blazing as a procession of monks made their way towards it, chanting Latin prayers..Though we did not know it, we were watching a procession that took place five or six hundred years before..."
The coffin was open. The monks thought this to be a fitting tribute. The girl was dressed in a long, white gown, her hands folded across her chest, her long dark hair framing her serene face. They had reverently placed her before the alter when it was noticed her lips were moving. Quickly, they set down the coffin and raced to fetch precious water but the girl suddenly sat up unaided. Too late they saw she was the embodiment of evil.
"A curse to you all!" She laughed. "I live forever!"
A thunderbolt broke overhead and the lightning struck the monastery. The monks tried to escape in vain. Theirs was to be a slow, painful death as flames engulfed them.
But Tom and Jacinta were unaware they were heading into the jaws of hell.
Tom tenderly kissed Jacinta's forehead. She was weak now. Barely alive. He should never have brought her this far. She had always been delicate. He should take her back to her family and face the consequences. The money they'd taken was but a small amount, enough to buy them food for just a few days, and they intended to pay back every penny as soon as Tom found work, but her father would have him charged with theft and thrown in gaol. Sir Anthony Claridge had power; his daughter's word would count for nothing.
"I must take you home," he said.
"No!" Jacinta clung to him, her eyes wide. "I love you, Tom. My life is nothing without you. Look! Something guides us!"
"We saw the strange lights," Jacinta whispered again, as she stood beside Jade, invisible to all but she. "We believed them to be forces of good. There were none to tell us the lights were not to be trusted. Unaware each was the soul of evil, we followed."
Martha shivered, glad to feel Jack's arm round her waist. Tasha and Robbie knelt to arrange the flowers that Tasha had gathered, those that grew wild and free, glistening with raindrops. Robbie placed his poem beside the urn though soon the page would be drenched by the falling rain.
"They separated us." Jade smiled as she sensed Tom's presence joining them and adding his words. It was good to know that they were together again after so long and that she had been instrumental in reuniting them. "Like many a traveller before us, we were dragged down into the deep mud beneath the river, our bodies never found but left to rot."
"You have great powers, Jade. Finally we were freed and could be together." Jacinta took up the story again. "We were drawn to you at once. All that have passed will be. Whether for good or evil."
Her voice began to fade.
"They're gone," Jade announced.
The sheet of paper scrunched up in the wind and rolled away in the breeze, the words of the poem blurred by the rain. For Brooding Hill would never be silenced.
The sky darkened with thunderclouds and the first flash of lightning struck. A scream tore through the wilderness. A small child began to make her way down from the top of the hill, weeping and holding out her arms. But they resisted. Evil took many forms and they had before nearly been fooled by the black-eyed people. Except when they got closer, the eyes would be the hollow eyes of the undead...
In the circle surrounding the grave, the friends held out their hands to each other and tightly clasped, knowing they must never break their circle of love and friendship. Without Jade's strong psychic powers to bring them together they would never have escaped Brooding Hill alive. All would be connected through the circle they had created that very first night outside the caravan. All now shared the same psychic bond; ghosts and creatures from other worlds would always seek them out...
To Be Continued...
Forever...
