Chapter Nine:
Ghosts In The Fog
The Fields:
Inspector Cooke, Isabella, and Anne Marie left Major Bruckner's farm hastily – after Cooke had told Bennett to burn the body of the infected dog.
"I wish to meet Major Bruckner at the earliest opportunity, man!" the Inspector told the groom. "If he returns to the farm before I can visit here again, send word onto me."
The trio of investigators then left the farm as soon as there was a lull in the rainstorm. Luckily for them, the coachman had eventually found another way across the fields, so that he was able to stop closer to Hob House farm. However, he could not travel any further east. Upon being told by his clients that they wished to head back to town, the coachman pocketed the extra sum of coins from Isabella and turned the coach back onto the road leading to Hanbrook Manor – before driving past the entrance and following the twisting road southeast towards Shadowbrook again.
"I wish to return to my home and engage in some research from my little study," Anne Marie told Isabella and Inspector Cooke. "I will join you later at ze blacksmiths."
The others looked at each other. Isabella nodded. "After the blacksmiths, some refreshment is called for, I think. We cannot fight any enemy – let alone a supernatural one – without adequate food and drink."
"Fine," Cooke replied, sounding calmer than he felt, as he gradually dried off. The incident with the dog had shaken him. Despite this, a part of him was wondering how Sergeant Allardyce was getting on in his pursuit of the Scarlet Shadow. And also how Harrison and Harlow were coping in their own investigation of the recent killings in the township…
*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*
The Windmill:
Karl yelled for the assistance of the women. The fight with the statue of Miss Palfreyman was not going well. Although Thomas was now using his knife with his left hand – joining in with Karl's own knife fight upon their assailant – the skin of the animated statue was practically stone. A stone that turned fluid enough to allow the living statue a jerky, start-stop movement, before resuming hardened solidity again. Learning from this, and timing their co-ordinated attacks carefully, Thomas and Karl were able to keep the living statue back – and avoid injury themselves. But they were so far failing to damage it in turn.
"Dear Lord…!" Karl heard Lucy call out.
"Mein gott!" That, of course, was Heidi.
"Block off the gap in the doorway! There's something else out there!" Karl yelled.
"And don't let it grab you!" Thomas grunted, as he changed tactics and bashed the bottom of his knife hilt into the head of the attacking statue, which resulted in a 'thunk'. Miss Palfreyman – or whatever intelligence lay beneath the gray face – gave a silent snarl.
"Quick, Heidi! Help me with this table here. If we can upturn it…"
As she spoke, Lucy put down her newly-found pistol, in order to get to work. But even as the ladies cleared the table from the clutter upon it, a shadow fell upon them from the gap where the door had been shattered. With little light in the room itself, no one was able to see it clearly in time, as it squeezed through the doorway, and reached out to grab the ankle of the nearest human target…
Lucy screamed as she was yanked off-balance. With her back to her attacker, she fell to the ground, taking a bruise to her arm whilst feeling agony around her seized ankle. Then the…thing…started to drag her backwards along the floor.
"No! Lucy!" Karl yelled out, as he ducked from a swipe from the living statue.
With an effort, Lucy resisted the pull upon her ankle. She managed to grab her fallen pistol, and readied it. Then raising it above her head and pointing it behind her upside-down in her frantic desperation, Lucy fired.
Something gave an inhuman screech of pain and anger. It let go of Lucy, as it was punched back outside by the gunshot. In the next moment, Heidi was pulling Lucy up to her feet. But as she put weight on her left foot, a wave of unbelievable pain swept through her. Lucy refused to let go of the pistol, however.
"Aaaggghhh!"
"We gotta retreat!" Thomas yelled. His cheek had now been slashed by stony fingers, and blood was dripping down his face and onto his uniform.
"Agreed," Karl snapped. "Heidi – get Lucy upstairs. Now! We'll follow!"
"Yah, mein herr!" Heidi answered back. She helped to push Lucy up the wooden stepladder, before passing through the gap to the next floor herself.
Moments later, at Karl's urging, Thomas had sheathed his knife and was climbing the stepladder using only one hand. His right hand had ceased to function – it was just like the hands of that darned statue…
Sweating coldly at the thought, even as he pushed it out of his mind, Thomas scrambled through the gap in the ceiling.
Punching out at the statue as it tried to attack him again, Karl turned and sprinted for the stepladder. He had reached a point halfway – then yelled as the statue seized his waist from behind with both hands.
The 'bang' made Karl's ears ring for a few moments. He felt the grasp of his assailant weaken – and he forced himself up another couple of steps. But the statue had now shifted its hold onto his legs – and it was trying to use its weight to pull him down.
"Karl! I dare not shoot it again whilst your head is in the way!" Lucy cried out.
He glanced up, seeing her fearful face. The sight of Lucy, with the still-smoking gun, gave him strength…
"Then I'll handle this!" he grunted, turning his face around to see the bizarre sight of the living statue's half-missing head – the rest of it laying in fragments on the floor below, after receiving Lucy's fired bullet.
His heart lurched with terror at the frightening sight of his attacker. Then, gritting his teeth, Karl Harrison tensed his free arm and rabbit punched the statue in the neck.
The impact hurt his fist – but the force was enough to knock the ghastly animated thing backwards. It lost its tenuous foot grip on the stepladder and fell backwards to land on the stony floor below – shattering into pieces as it did so.
A scream of fury resounded from whatever was outside. The noise chilled Karl to the bone. Even after his experiences during the war, he had never heard such a bellow as that before…
Moments later, he had been pulled through up onto the next floor. As Karl panted with exertion, Heidi was shutting and bolting the trapdoor that separated the two levels. Then Lucy was hugging him furiously again, her eyes moist. Karl gratefully squeezed her back.
Lucy fingered the blood on his jacket. "You're injured! Is it bad?" she sobbed.
He checked himself, and shook his head. "It's just a scratch… I've had worse."
"Oh… Thank god for that…"
When all four of the slumped party had all recovered a little from their shock, Heidi broke the silence that had fallen, as she examined Thomas's right hand.
"It is like stone!" she exclaimed. "Vat are ve going to do about vis?"
"I do not know…," Karl muttered, as he felt the hardness of the gray skin for himself. "I believe this is some form of a curse."
"Doctor Manning might know how to treat a curse. He is a learned man, who I know has experimented with herbs and potions…," Lucy breathed. Her face had turned pale.
"What about you, Karl?" Thomas rasped. "Did that statue pass on…anything of itself…to you?"
The soldier shook his head. "I feel no stiffness or pain. It seems as if it was that other thing – the being outside – that has caused your strange ailment, Thomas. And it did not touch me…" Karl trailed off, horror crossing his face. He turned to face Lucy, his eyes questioning. Thomas and Heidi faced her also.
"I am afraid to look… My ankle…," Lucy whimpered.
"Allow me, mistress," Heidi dragged herself over to the younger woman.
Reluctantly, Lucy removed her left shoe and ripped stocking. She wailed as her hardened, gray ankle was revealed…
Outside of the windmill, something inhuman could be heard stomping around. Nobody was feeling brave enough to look down through the nearest window.
"Two of us afflicted! Now what do we do?" Thomas snapped at Karl. "So much for us being here only briefly! We mustn't linger!"
"Unfortunately, we don't have a choice," Karl answered gravely, meeting the gazes of the others. "We are trapped inside. By whatever is responsible for turning those people…" He stopped himself, realizing the anguish his words would deliver to Thomas and to Lucy.
"…for turning those people into statues," Lucy whispered, trembling as her eyes wept silent tears.
Already, she could feel the slow creeping of the curse through her body. She glanced below, to see the skin of her foot turn hard and rigid…
*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*
The Marsh:
Despite there being another couple of hours before sunset, fog had formed in the damp air outside of the Abandoned Fortress – and it was now slowly advancing towards the cracked and crumbling ruins, twisting and withering as though it had a life of its own.
Victor Danforth shivered, wide-eyed, as he stood just outside the fortress. He could have sworn that he had just seen fleeting faces in the fog – faces that blurred and flowed with the ever-shifting wisps.
"You… You see them…too?" he croaked to his companions.
"We all do, Mr Danforth," Jack reassured him, smirking. "They'll try to whisper in your mind, and drive you crazy if you let them. We've learnt that the hard way."
"But…what are they? Gh-ghosts? What d-do they want?"
"We believe that they are the spirits of folk who have died over the years, whilst crossing the wrong part of the marsh," the Scarlet Shadow declared. "There seems to be some curse over the marsh that prevents their souls from moving on. As for what they want – they wish to drink our vitality, in order to feel halfway alive again!" He nodded at the scruffy-looking pair of outlaws who were accompanying them. Both of them were thin and bore haunted-looking eyes. "Ruby and Rudy have each been drained by the wraiths. As you can see."
Victor gulped.
"Just hold onto that faith of yours, Victor – and we'll be fine. Your faith will act as our shield as we head through the marsh. But we need to get going!" Katarina announced, slamming her loaded pistol shut. She also had a loaded crossbow with her, Victor noted. Whilst the Scarlet Shadow bore a fine-looking rapier.
And here is me armed with no more than a rosary…, Victor mused ruefully.
They set off on foot, sticking to the road – and staying close to each other, nearly touching. The Scarlet Shadow led the group, with Victor instructed to keep just behind the outlaw leader. Next came Jack – then the brother and sister duo of Ruby and Rudy. Katarina brought up the rear.
As they advanced into the fog, the ghostly faces reappeared and moaned. Victor was already reciting the Lord's Prayer as he fingered the rosary around his clammy fingers. He began to trail off.
"Again, Mr Danforth! And louder!" the Shadow urged him.
"Our father, who art in heaven. Ha-hallowed be thy name…," Victor raised his voice, drowning out the whispers in his mind. The ghosts were asking for a sip of his energy – promising him with visions of fame and fortune with his plays, if he did so…
The damp, cold air made him shiver and shudder. But he was being encouraged by the sight of the ghosts steering away from him.
"Repeat after me, everyone!" he called out. "Thy kingdom come. Thy will be done. On earth, as it is in heaven…"
And the outlaws did so. A few minutes later, the last of the ghosts had hissed and faded away from sight. The fog around them suddenly retreated towards the marsh that lay a short distance before them.
The Scarlet Shadow stopped to check on how everyone in the party was. This time, none of the outlaws had suffered from their unearthly encounter. No one was drained, or injured.
"Good work, Mr Danforth." The Shadow inclined his head to the playwright. He might also have been smiling – but it was hard to tell with that face mask of his. "Now – let's quickly get across the marsh itself, before anything else…"
He fell silent upon seeing Jack raise his hand into the air, for silence. The youth then turned his head, listening carefully. Then they all heard the noises. Several horses, slowing down. They turned round to face the bend in the road.
About six riders and horses appeared in sight. Victor recognized one of the tricorn hatted riders as the sergeant who had accompanied that detective fellow from Boston. The other armed men had to be militia…
"Halt!" cried out Sergeant Allardyce, as he pulled up his horse. "Stop in the name of the law!"
The horses of the other men were halted, allowing their riders to pull out their pistols…
"Run! Into the fog!" yelled the Scarlet Shadow.
The outlaws made a break for the shifting white mass before them, taking the protesting Victor with them. Shots rang out, the noise of the blasts dulled somewhat by the marsh air. Victor stumbled as he stepped into a boggy patch. Crying out as his arms whipped at the air in search of something solid enough with which pull himself free, his heart pounded a little less as Katarina and Jack yanked him out of the sinking earth.
A horse whinnied as its hooves sank into another stretch of soft ground just underneath the shallow water. The animal tried to twist round, only to lose its balance. The man on top splashed into the water. His cry turned into a gurgle. Another rider, however, had found some firmer ground – and his horse was cantering towards the outlaws...
"You won't get away this time, you wretch!" the soldier cried out.
"Bennett…!" Katarina spat. She spun her head round to face her gang's servant boy. "Jack – guide Victor through the marsh and across the river!" Katarina barked at the lad.
"Sure thing, Miss Clark." Jack held onto Victor firmly as he concentrated on navigating their way through the marsh. It was a familiar enough route to him – but he needed to keep his eyes on the ground and water before him.
"Wh-what are you doing, Miss Clark?" Victor pressed her.
"Dealing with this corrupt soldier, who murdered my sister…," Katarina snapped, as she raised her crossbow and spun round to face the oncoming rider, who was even now bearing his pistol upon her.
Katarina was quicker. Her fired quarrel hit the scarred militiaman in the throat. She caught a glimpse of Bennett's shocked, wide eyes, before he tumbled from his horse and fell into the marsh. One hand grasped at the bolt, then twitched and fell still – along with the rest of his body. The swallow, muddy water around him began to turn red…
Then the air suddenly turned colder. A groaning – faint at first – resounded into a chorus of unearthly cries. Victor and Jack halted in their tracks as two apparitions materialized before them, taking the form of two bushy-mustached soldiers wearing uniforms and tricorn hats similar to the militia. Their faces, however, were marked by wounds and decaying flesh – and they glowed with an ethereal green-white light, whilst their eyes were a blank white.
Victor gasped – then glanced around him as he heard screams around him, from Ruby and the men on both sides of the skirmish. Another white glow had appeared from nowhere, containing with it more ghostly soldiers, who were now taking aim with their rifles and bayonets…
"God have mercy on us! Use your rosary, Mr Danforth!" Jack urged him.
Victor did so, as he clenched his pudgy hand around it and concentrated.
You cannot harm me…! I am protected! I believe in God Almighty, and the Holy Mother…
The ghosts before him and Jack flinched and yelled – as if they had just been struck by a thrown rock. They took a few steps back, allowing Jack to pull Victor by their held hands, as they pressed onwards – not daring to waste time. Victor glanced backwards just once. He could catch only glimpses of movement in the mists – but he could clearly hear the unnatural roars of the ghostly soldiers as they charged all before them. A man screamed, and there was a heavy 'splat' as he fell down. Horses shrieked - and men shouted to each other, yelling to god for deliverance…
Victor was tempted to yell his encouragement – but then, if the militia survived the battle, what would happen to him? Would they rescue him from the outlaws, or jail him as being amongst their number…?
But there was no time to shout back. Too much was happening at once. Victor panted as he and Jack arrived at the banks of the River Shadow. The playwright glanced down at his already-sodden shoes and pants.
"Ooohhh… My clothes!" he moaned.
"We'll dry out, Mr Danforth. Once we're across and hidden from the sol'jers!" Jack panted. "Now. C'mon! We can use the stepping stones that lie just under the water, near here…"
Before long, they were across. Victor and Jack hid amongst the foliage at the edge of the olde woods, with Jack dropping his backpack on the ground as they rested and kept watch for the rest of their party. The fog hung over the marsh and the western edge of the river, hiding everyone within the churning blanket of white from view.
Eventually, they were alerted by splashing. A sobbing Ruby was being dragged along by Katarina – whilst the Scarlet Shadow guarded their backs. All of them bore wounds. Making their way carefully across the stepping stones, the trio was alerted by Jack's bird-like call – and they sluggishly made their way up the riverbank to hide with Jack and Victor. Barely had they done so, than Sergeant Allardyce and one of the militia soldiers emerged from the fog – looking equally the worse for wear after the battle.
"They've gone, Sergeant!" the soldier yelled.
"They can't be far, Private Costello! Follow their tracks, for God's sake!"
"Sir. We need to see to the survivors…!"
Sergeant Allardyce took a deep breath – then released it, nodding. "Yes. We should do that… Just…what the devil were those…things?"
"Um. Ghosts, sir. I have heard it said 'round here that they are the troubled souls of soldiers from the war. There was a battle in this spot, back then."
"The war…? That ended twenty years ago! W-why did they fight…us?"
"Reckon their souls are trapped here, sir – due to the manner o' their deaths. They are jealous o' the livin' – so they hate us. An' so they attack us." The Private paused – and then spoke again. "The men, sir… We haven't got enough to take on the Scarlet Shadow now…"
Allardyce seethed. "Yes, dammit! Let's get out of here, and retreat back to Shadowbrook!" He turned and led the soldier back towards the marsh.
Seconds passed. Satisfied that the danger had passed, the Scarlet Shadow sighed from his slumped position behind the undergrowth of the thicket of trees. He faced his band.
"We were lucky to get out of that as much as we did! Jack – you have the healing herbs from these woods on you. See to our injuries!"
"Right away, boss." Jack unpacked the herbs and some bandages – and also a pot - as he started to get to work by fetching water to boil for the herbs. Meanwhile, Ruby – who had been silent when Allardyce had appeared – was now wailing.
"Shush…! Not too loudly – or they'll come back," Katarina spoke, keeping her voice low whilst she comforted the other woman outlaw.
"Her brother…?" Victor was reluctant to ask, but he did so anyway.
Katarina nodded, her eyes hard. "Rudy took a bullet from the militia. He tried to crawl away – but then one of the ghost soldiers stabbed him with his bayonet. Darcius and I managed to pull Ruby here out, before the spirits could take her too."
Victor hung his head low. "I am sorry for your loss, Madam," he told Ruby – who sniffed and nodded her acknowledgement. Then Victor was distracted by the Scarlet Shadow calling to him.
"Mr Danforth… You did well, getting us past the ghosts in the fog with your faith. Unfortunately, we were not expecting the return of the ghost soldiers. They have not been seen for years. And we are the living souls who eek out the closest to the marsh, so we should know."
"Then…. Then why have they returned now?" Victor hugged himself as he sat sprawled on the ground, gathering his wits.
"Something has stirred them up, Victor. Some dark influence in these parts," Katarina opinioned, still holding onto the tearful Ruby.
"The…Shadow Witch?" Victor ventured.
"Yes… I do believe so. The Shadow Witch." The Scarlet Shadow's expression tightened behind his mask. "Her power is slowing building up again. If no one can stop her in her plans for revenge, the consequences for all of us will be dire!"
*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*
The Olde Woods:
Night fell. Victor had helped Jack to gather water and firewood, in order for Jack to boil water for the herbs. By now, Ruby had recovered a little from her grief – enough to assist Jack with treating the wounds that the Scarlet Shadow and Katarina had taken.
The group had moved further into the olde woods, in order to avoid being spotted by the militia if they decided to return to the riverside. And with the evening having descended upon them, Victor shivered – trying to keep himself warm by the fire, as the cawing of crows and the calls of other woodland creatures he could not identify made him jump every now and then.
He wished that he had a travelling blanket with him. None of the outlaws seemed to have one…
Imagining himself to be safely back inside his tavern room, as he tried to distract himself from their sorry situation, Victor followed the rising of the smoke from the camp fire with his eyes. He took in the tall trees around him, and the glimpse of the full moon in the sky beyond them. Well, not quite full. Gibbous, he told himself. It would be full the following night.
Ruby had retreated inside one of the tents the outlaws had erected, in order to sleep. Jack and the Scarlet Shadow were on watch – or had gone to relieve themselves after their meal of the previous hour. For now, there was just himself and the red-headed Katarina, who was gazing into the flickering flames of the fire.
"No…," she muttered.
"Wh-what, Miss Clark?" Victor shook himself away from the image of his comfortable tavern room bed with the candlelight to read by before settling down for sleep. He saw that Katarina was fingering an amulet around her neck – but the rest of her was rigid, barely blinking as if something within the flames had mesmerized…
Oh no…, Victor realized, remembering the visions the outlaw had experienced in the sealed-off chamber that he had earlier collapsed into, at the Abandoned Fortress. "What…is it?"
"Mon-monsters… A town elder being killed…tonight. A siege of the town. An attack from two armies of monsters… Darcius…! No… Nnnooo…!"
Katarina swayed from her cross-legged position and collapsed just before Victor could reach her. He gulped and helped her back up – then poured some of the pre-heated water into a tin cup for her to slowly sip from. She moaned.
"What the…? Did some-thing…happen, to me?"
Victor nodded. "You had visions again, I believe."
"Dear lord… Yes I did…" Katarina clutched her head, and carefully sipped some more water.
"What did you see? What is going to happen, Miss Clark?"
"I saw…too much. I don't know in what order they will happen… Some things are coming soon – other things…are intended to happen later. We can't… We can't stop them all!" she croaked. Katarina's eyes were filled with fear. "Darcius… His life is in danger! I have not told him yet! I wanted to deny the image from earlier – but it has been shown to me again! I must find hi-"
She got up and took a few, faltering steps. Then Victor held her still.
"Steady, Miss Clark… You have had a nasty shock – and you are not walking straight. I am sure that your friend will be back soon! Let him return to us, instead of us wandering in the dark – even with torches!"
She reluctantly nodded.
"Do…? Do you wish to tell me more of what you saw in your visions? From just now – or earlier?" Victor gently encouraged her.
"The people of Shadowbrook are in grave danger, Victor… We are not just dealing with one menace! Even if… Even if we fight off the threats gathering now, more will come in the not so distant future…"
"What th-threats are they, Miss Clark?"
"Couldn't see them all clearly! One that I did see was a being that's responsible for the statues. It killed our men at the fort! Turned them…into statues. And winged creatures… They serve this being…"
"The grotesque things at the manor? I did see the eyes of a third one in the dark that night!"
"Yes – they are…its minions. And this greater being is winged, also. But the Shadow Witch… She is nothing to do with them! She is aware of this winged being and its creatures. She regards them as thorns in her plans…for revenge against the town elders. She has been building up her power for months, and intends to unleash it… From tonight!" Katarina's face was pale. "Two of the town elders are in these woods. The Shadow Witch intends to deal with them, very soon. I saw this earlier. That's why I urged us to get here by nightfall…"
Victor was dumbstruck, as his mind tried to process all that he had just learnt. Then he was distracted by footsteps. Jumping up, he spun round, brandishing a torch from the fire. He let loose a sigh of relief at the same time as Katarina lowered her pistol.
The Scarlet Shadow and Jack had returned.
"You've had more visions, Katarina?" the outlaw leader asked her.
"Yeah I did… What…did you hear, Darcius?" Katarina's lip trembled, Victor noticed.
"The bit about the being that created the statues, onwards," the Shadow declared.
"That's right," Jack confirmed.
Katarina visibly relaxed a bit. "We are dealing with two beings of power, Darcius. But I saw glimpses in the flames of more to come… But we need to concentrate on the current threats that are facing us and everyone in Shadowbrook."
The Shadow folded his arms. "So what must we do now?"
"We must gather our strength and be prepared. Two of the town elders are not far away – and the Shadow Witch has them in her sights." Katarina faced each of the others in turn. "We need to stop whatever she has planned for them!"
The Scarlet Shadow nodded. "You stay with Ruby, Katarina. Us three men will scout out the woods for more firewood – and keep an eye out for anyone else…"
"No! Darcius… Wait! I'll awaken Ruby. Then I'll scout with you," Katarina blurted.
He tilted his face, puzzled. "Is there…something else that we should know, my love?"
"No… It's… We need to stick in pairs! Ruby has her pistol – but we…" She bowed her head. "It's just that I have a bad feeling about this. I want to stay with you."
"Very well… Jack – you stay with Mr Danforth. Do you know how to handle a pistol, playwright?"
Victor eyed the pistol that the Shadow was pointing upwards. He gulped. "Actually, yes I do. I am not fond of them…"
"Take it – and only shoot when you need to. Make sure Jack comes to no harm."
Victor nodded. "Understood." He started to move away with the servant boy – but then Katarina stopped him.
"Mr Danforth… You should have these…" She tossed him a bag of coins.
He opened the bag and counted them. "My…money? You're returning it to me?"
"Call it payment for getting us through the marsh… And, take this runic amulet. I sense that you can make even greater use of it than I," Katarina declared. She took off the metal amulet from around her neck and gave it to the playwright. He saw that it was in the image of the sun, with a man's face in the centre.
"I… Thank you," he said, looking up at Katarina. "You are an honorable thief, after all."
She smiled. "Brave heart to you, Victor. Now go!"
*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*
Victor and Jack had gathered enough firewood to fill both of Jack's hands, when they found the occupied clearing.
The two scouts kept out of sight, using the tree cover, as Victor kept hold of the loaded pistol. Still, the dozen-or-so inhabitants of the clearing gave no sign that they were aware of the playwright and the servant boy. With the light cast from their campfire, Victor tried to identify those present. Most of them were men – hardy ruffians, judging by their drinking and coarse singing. There was one woman present – a tall, dark-haired beauty, who was sat on one of the crates of boxes present, cradling a wailing baby.
Rubbing her shoulder as he pecked on the cheek, Major Bruckner then walked across to another man, who stood next to a cart, looking ill at ease with the gathered company. The tricorn-hatted man put down his bag and faced the Major.
Victor stifled his gasp of surprise, as he recognized Doctor Theodore Manning.
"I have treated the wound on that thief who you call your man, Major. He will soon fully recover. I trust …that the favor is now paid in full?" Manning spoke evenly – and with, Victor fancied, an air of suppressed anger. His voice carried clearly across to Victor and Jack, who were hidden just within the tree line, close by.
Major Bruckner gave a low chuckle and smiled. It was not a pleasant expression.
"Oh no, Doctor. Your work tonight only covers half of the favor. You see, I know not just the one secret about you…"
"What…are you talking about…?"
"Come, now. It is no use playing innocent with me. You having dealings with the smugglers of Tidewater is one thing…"
Victor heard Manning hiss with frustration. "I told you! They provide me with various medical supplies that I cannot get without long delays from Boston. And your man stole from the smugglers!"
"From now on, if you require smugglers for your medicines, you deal with MY men, doctor! This side of the crossroads is OUR territory… Furthermore, you hiding that disgusting fugitive is another matter that the authorities would also be interested to hear, I am sure," Bruckner smoothly carried on - the hard smile never leaving his face.
"What makes you think that I have…?"
"I make it my business to know everything about you and the other elders of the town, given what you all did to my sister when I was still in the army!" Major Bruckner growled, showing his teeth.
"Your darned sister was…"
"Enough!" Bruckner snapped. "You will now check upon how Ursula and her baby are doing."
Doctor Manning scowled. "A baby that you did not want to be born, remember? Only Ursula was too far pregnant when she was brought to my attention. You try to blackmail me… But I am no idiot, Major. I can tell that baby girl is yours…"
The crack of Bruckner's clenched fist was loud enough for Victor to hear, given that he was hidden behind a tree only a matter of feet away from the two bickering elders. His heart thumping madly, the playwright snatched another peek with one eye. He glimpsed Bruckner taking a slow, menacing step towards Manning. The doctor was tall – but the Major was taller, and he packed more bulk and muscle.
"Do your duty, doctor. Then you can go. Before I lose my patience, and…"
Doctor Manning turned and strode away, his long legs taking him over to the sultry-looking gypsy woman with the baby. She was yelling at it to stop crying. Meanwhile, Bruckner did not pursue Manning – but instead turned, and headed into the line of trees.
With a shared look of alarm between them, Victor and Jack ducked down in-between the clump of trees that they were in. In doing so, Victor bumped his knee against a tree root – but he managed to stifle the cry on his lips. Fortunately, Major Bruckner did not notice them, as he approached the nearby ruins of a cottage, and began to loosen his pants…
"He's doing his business on that old house!" Jack whispered.
"Look away!" Victor hissed back, as he closed his eyes. But as he did so, a feeling of unease crept over him. The runic amulet, given to him by Katarina, seemed to be tingling where it lay against his chest – amplifying his sixth sense. Something else was lurking, and not far away…
"D-do you feel that?" he asked Jack, his voice wavering.
"Um. Feel what?"
"Something…evil. Somewhere nearby. It's getting closer!" He drew in a deep breath to steady himself. "Jack… Keep an eye on Doctor Man-Manning! I'll ch-check on the Major. Both of them could be in danger!"
"Got it, Mr Danforth. I'll arm myself with what I can." Jack nodded and turned away, even as Victor started to sprint for the ruined cottage, not far away…
The yell of the Major reached his ears as the playwright got halfway there.
"No! Nonono…." Victor wailed, summoning up his flagging willpower and forcing himself past the paralysis that had frozen him to the spot. He soon reached the remains of the broken wall, and actually leapt over the low bricks, spurred on the need to honor Katarina's premonition and prevent a man's death – even a ghastly man such as Major Bruckner was proving to be.
Something slammed into one of the other walls, on the other side from Victor. Some broken bricks tumbled down. The Major was yelling both his defiance, and his fear…
"Take this, you freak!"
Victor ran to the other side of the wall, his nose winkling as he caught a whiff of where the Major had urinated. He skidded to a halt and took in the scene within the house ruins, with amazement. Major Bruckner, looking bruised and battered – and bleeding from a gash to the head where he evidently made close contact with a wall in the fighting – had just stuck his dagger into the man who was looming over him. Well, Victor thought it was a man – but that illusion was soon replaced by the reality that the being, dressed in torn rags, was a gray skinned hulk with a fat human-like face, a thick neck, and muscular limbs. One of the blunt fists removed the offending blade from the creature's stomach, which oozed a thick, gray liquid. The intruder looked at the dagger with a dull-witted expression, as though it was some backward child – then the face split into a malevolent, smug grin, as the thing drooled, and threw the blade away. Also, the creature had torn away an amulet that Bruckner had been wearing – and now the amulet lay on the ground, buckled out of shape by the strong grip of the inhuman intruder…
"Huh, huh, huh…! Mistresswontsyu! Youswillserver…," the creature gibbered, slurring its words as it spoke quickly. Then the fist that had impacted with the brick wall was pulled back again for another punch.
Stunned at his impotence, Major Bruckner tried to dodge the incoming attack – but failed. The fist struck his jaw and sent him flying into the empty fireplace, where his head struck the bricks at the base of the cottage's chimney. He did not move any further.
"Jack!" Victor yelled. "Anyone! Help!" With shaking hands, he managed to raise the pistol and took aim as the mutated creature shuffled round to face him and took slow, ponderous steps in his direction. Some instinct inside of Victor told him that his enemy was only not human, it had never been human. It was, he felt, a lesser demon…
Boom!
The bullet pierced the chest of the thing. A trickle of the gray blood gushed forth. But the inhuman assailant only paused, and sniggered. Then it moved its bare, heavy, misshapen feet again. Then before, Victor's disbelieving eyes, a ghostly green image that could have been human detached itself from the monster. It drifted across to the slumped, unmoving Major, and then sank into his body.
He thought he heard a gloating laugh just before the spectral glow disappeared. It sounded like a wo-
"Youswontstopwotskoming…, poonyhuman!" the demon mocked him.
"Oh, mercy me!" Victor's mind raced. He backed away as he reloaded. His wide eyes glanced around. The Major had taken a lantern with him when he came to the cottage to relive himself – and now it lay at the base of the wall to his left…
With a cry, Victor turned and ran for the lantern – adrenalin pushing him on before he stopped to question what he was doing. Ducking to avoid the swipe of the fiend's hand, he then picked up the lantern and spun round to smash the glass against the being's chest. It grunted as it staggered back from the close-contact blow, and tumbled down to the debris-littered floor of the building. Only a bare flicker of flame remained, as the remains of the candle rolled off the demon's chest.
Then, backing away, Victor took a deep breath, and a steady aim. He fired his reloaded pistol at the oil on the monster's skin…
BOOM!
The demon wailed as it was suddenly lit up in flames. The thing tried to get upon its feet, but failed. Instead, the bloated figure rolled over back and forth, in an attempt to extinguish the fire. The roasted stench of inhuman flesh filled the air, and the creature started to crawl towards him.
"Youswillsuvverforvis…, poonyhu- Aagghh!"
Gagging, Victor tossed aside his pistol and stumbled over to the fireplace – which he could barely make out in the flickering light from the pyre of the dying demon. Finding the unconscious Major too heavy to lift around his head and shoulders, he managed instead to drag him away by pulling on his arms.
His heart pounding with the fear that the gibbering evil fiend would pull him down as it burnt to death, Victor strained himself. Taking slow steps backwards, he dragged Major Bruckner out of the ruined cottage bit by bit. He saw the demon collapse into the base of a wall at the edge of the cottage – which promptly caused the wall to collapse and bury the dying monster in a rain of old bricks.
Victor paused to gather his breath. Seeing that the danger was over, he began to relax. He heard footsteps approaching him.
"Jack! Quick! Help me carry the Major to his party of m-"
"That won't be necessary. We'll take over, mister!" the thug declared in a surly voice as he stepped into Victor's sight – the man's dagger pointed towards the playwright's neck. Victor froze, and then slowly craned his face round to see the three other members of Major Bruckner's party. One of them was holding his hand over the mouth of the captive Jack.
"Ahh… Um." Victor's throat had just turned very dry. "I say… I have…just rescued your boss, you must know."
The scarred thug with the dagger stared with shock at the face of the dead demon – the only part of it not buried by the collapsed wall. Its body was melting rapidly. Then the ruffian turned back to face Victor, narrowing his eyes against the lantern that was being held by the gypsy woman Ursula.
"You've got a lot of explaining to do, mister!" Ursula hissed, glancing down at her still-unconscious lover, Major Bruckner.
*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*o*
Shadowbrook:
Inspector Cooke watched Harlow Morgan carefully as he explained each of his budding inventions, whilst running through the bric 'n' brac in his warehouse. He had managed to persuade the short Welshman to aid him – despite Harlow's muttered desire to see to pressing business elsewhere. When Cooke had pressed him as the nature of the said business, Harlow had just commented along the lines of "Oh, nothing of importance, Inspector. Just people to meet."
But underneath the inventor's obvious enthusiasm for his work – and despite Cooke's growing conviction that the man would get more success out of his erratic projects if he would only concentrate upon one at a time, instead of working on several in any given day – Inspector Cooke was becoming sure that something was amiss. Harlow was too twitchy…
"I will take a vial of acid, if I may, Mr Morgan. Your spare net gun may be useful, also," the Inspector declared.
"Oh…! Oh, very well. Just what is it you are expecting to fight, Inspector – may I ask?"
"You may…" Cooke weighed the net gun that had just been handed to him. "I had thought that I came to Shadowbrook to deal with the ravages of a wild animal – or the work of a dangerous lunatic. But firstly there were those devilish winged creatures…"
"The bodies of which are currently here, Inspector, as per your orders…"
"Indeed. Now… Now I have been convinced that there is even more to this. As much as it pains me to say it, there are supernatural forces at work, Mr Morgan." He looked directly at the older man. "I suppose that as a man of science, you would not believe me…"
Harlow paused in his rubbing of his spectacles against his work apron. He tilted his round face at an angle to his guest. "I…I am receptive to any theory as to the horrors afflicting this town."
"Very well. It seems that the fears regarding the Shadow Witch were well-founded. I believe that at least some of the recent…troubles…are her doing. But I need to find Major Bruckner! I am worried…that he will soon be involved in trouble."
"The Major…?" Harlow flinched. "Surely he would be at his farm, sooner or later?"
"He was not there, when my…assistants…and I visited his farm. And I have not yet received word that he has arrived back."
"That is…interesting…," Harlow muttered – then he was distracted by the knock of the front door of the warehouse.
Upon Harlow's 'Enter!' the militiaman who had been posted outside opened the door. Squeezing through the gap, Isabella von Took and Anne Marie Piaget slipped by. They were carrying a sack between them.
"These ladies say they are reporting to you, Inspector Cooke," the militiaman announced.
"That they are. Thank you." Cooke nodded. "Remain outside, soldier."
"Sir!" The militiaman clicked his heels and headed back out, closing the door behind him.
The women started to walk forward – but halted as Inspector Cooke urged them to stop. He held out his hand.
"No! Don't step onto that rug!"
"Wh-?" Anne Marie's eyes widened.
"Oh, dear dear me! I forgot," Harlow declared, as he rubbed his hands in agitation. "Yes – please avoid stepping onto that rug. You see, it's covering up a pit trap which I've made. I did warn the Inspector here, when he arrived."
"You are…expecting intruders, Mr Morgan?" Isabella asked him.
"Well… I do have valuable, rare equipment here, Madam von Took. I am rather afraid of burglars…" Harlow rubbed one side of his thick mutton-chop beard.
Carefully taking care to walk into the workshop by edging around the innocuous-looking rug, the ladies joined the two men. Dropping the sack at their feet, Isabella started pulling out pistols to distribute to Anne Marie and the Inspector, whilst keeping one for herself. Meanwhile, the school teacher was looking around the workshop with keen interest, appreciating the charts and records that were hanging on one wall. There was one with a table of known elements, gases and metals. Another – set above a desk where a small telescope was placed, gave dates for the phases of the moon. Another record listed the dates that were best for viewing the planets. Underneath the telescope there was a laid out old map of Shadowbrook and the surrounding countryside.
"Here you go, Inspector Cooke," said Isabella. "Anne Marie was good enough to lend me some money, whilst she did some research. Here is the silver shot – again to be used between us…"
"Silver shot…?" Harlow whispered. "Why have you…?"
Cooke turned to face him, and saw that the inventor's face had turned pale. "We believe that it will be needed, Mr Morgan. Now, Anne Marie…," the Inspector continued, now switching his attention to her as he began loading his pistol with the silver shot – as did the ladies. "Anything to report?"
"Oui, Inspector!" the teacher beamed with pride. "I asked myself where I could find any factual evidence regarding this…Shadow Witch…who went by ze name of Elaine Bartlett. And I decided to approach the Reverend Harding for information."
"Ahh… Of course!" Cooke snapped his fingers. "The parish records!"
"Exactement. But ze Reverend wanted a contribution to the 'upkeep of ze church' for me to view ze records… Nevertheless, Reverend Harding told me about Elaine Bartlett's history as a suspected witch – and 'ow she was arrested for ze murders by witchcraft of several people, including her husband, Ellis Bartlett. Now hear zis!" Anne Marie's expression grew more animated. "Ze Reverend keeps notes on other records and newspaper accounts in a ledger, which he keeps with him. Elaine was born and raised in a nearby parish – where, when she was not yet eighteen; there was a spate of livestock deaths. Cows and goats were torn apart – as if by wolves! But when sighted, ze wolves were larger than ze usual gray wolves. Although it was never proven, Harding suspects that Elaine and her brother were involved in witchcraft then…"
"Her brother…?" Cooke raised his eyebrow.
"Oui. Her brother." Anne Marie's expression had now turned solemn. "He is now Major Lucien Bruckner. Ze Shadow Witch was born as Elaine Bruckner!"
"My god…! And this man could turn against the township. He would have been in the army when his sister was hanged for witchcraft…"
"He would have motive to kill each of the town elders for their part in sealing his sister's fate." Isabella considered, tapping her chin. "They must have had some hold on him, to prevent him from taking revenge on them already... Unless he has some hold on them? Did he still love his sister, when she was hung?"
"Ze Reverend told me, after he had drunk ze brandy I gave him, that Major Bruckner was distraught at the death of Elaine," Anne Marie confirmed. "But is the Major a…warlock? Or a loup-garou? Or bo-"
The schoolteacher fell abruptly silent, as the sound of ripping cloth filled the air of the candle-lit warehouse. The four people spun round and tried to identify where amongst the clutter the noise had come from…
"Wher-?" Isabella exclaimed.
"There!" Harlow pointed at the cloth-shrouded form in one corner. A pair of gray hands emerged from the tear in the fabric and widened the gap, making the ruined cloth fall to the floor.
The statue of Samuel Shaw slowly turned its head to regard the stunned humans in the warehouse. The eyes of the former farm worker glowed with an eerie white light. There was a slight grinding noise as the statue moved.
Then the living statue grinned, exposed stony teeth. It raised its arms, and began taking slow, heavy steps forward as it sought out a target which it could throttle to death…
Anne Marie screamed. Isabella dropped her half-loaded pistol in her shock. Inspector Cooke spluttered with disbelief. Whilst Harlow Morgan gave vent with words that spoke for all of them.
"Oh my, I had no idea it was going to do that!"