Dark Portal 1/Dark Portal 1.adf/TEXT/Bestial-2

Text File | 1992-09-02 | 22KB | 394 lines

@ "BESTIAL INFLUX" (Part Three) By Andrew Campbell 1993



                                 -1-

 I was looking at the front door of my home.
 We lived in a converted farmhouse on the very outskirts of Stone
Bridge, near a barren hillside, suitably called Black Hill. The house
was small and cramped, and the garage was nothing but an old barn
fitted with a dirty green sliding door, but it was isolated enough from
the rest of the town to be peaceful and private. There were two floors,
two bedrooms and a spacious loft and cellar. The garden was amazingly
colourful and well looked after by Mum. Pretty roses lined the long,
entwining driveway that led directly up to the front patio. There was a
sign-post merged together with a letter box that said :

?                    R O S E N D A L E   H O U S E

 Hardly aware of my thoughts or my actions, I watched a pale hand reach
out and knock twice on the door. For a dreadful moment I thought no one
was going to answer.
 Then a chain rattled and a latch fired back, and before I knew it, I
was standing like a bedraggled doll in front of Shelley, whose eyes
were as round as Christmas tree baubles. She was dressed in pair of
yellow Snoopy pyjamas and her belly button was showing.
 "Muh..." she murmoured and staggered backwards, then her voice turned
shrill and joyous. "Mummie! Mummie! Linda! See Linda! Linda's come
back! Muuummie!"
 The downstairs hallway was built in a T-shape and Mum came rushing out
of the right-hand opening dressed in a pale blue nightie. Her eyes were
sore and she was clutching a soggy paper hanky.
 She grabbed Shelley and shook her gently. "Did Daddy find her? Did-"
 "Mummie look!" Shelley pointed at me obscurely. "She's there."
 Mum looked.
 "Oh Linda..." she whispered, and I saw her tears fall all the way down
to the carpet. "You silly, silly girl..."
 I remained still, blank, expressionless, both arms by my sides. If Mum
was pretending to be sorrowful, she was doing a good job of it. Those
tears looked particularly realistic.
 "What happened to you?" she said and her lips quivered. She bit them
hard - until they turned white - in order to cease their movement, and
I noticed big black circles under her eyes.
 "Mummie?" Shelley said fretfully. "Isn't Linda going to come in?"
 Mum shrugged, "I guess that's up to her..." She sniffed and wiped her
eyes, then continued to silently cry. "Are you?" Her voice was feeble
and threatened to break at any moment, like a needle-thin icicle. "If I
promise to make you a big cheese and lettuce sandwich with loads of
mayonaise?"
 It was my favourite of course. She knew exactly what she was talking
about, and the disturbing fact was that her words were luring me into
becoming the soft, pathetic little girl I had been before the party.
 I took a step forwards and Shelley brightened. "Mummie..." She watched
me carefully as I hesitated on the doorstep, unsure of whether to
confirm my final return - biting her nails, just like she always did
when she was unsure of what to say. The three of us stood still for a
few moments, feeling the horrible tension lingering in the air.
 I entered the house. Mum crouched down and opened her arms to take
me, but I walked straight past her.
 She began to wail as I ascended to my room.


                                 -2-

 They were talking downstairs.
 Dad wasn't shouting, because Dad wasn't the kind of person who got
mad. He was very upset and his voice was lined with impatience, but I
knew he wouldn't beat me for running away. Neither would Mum for that
matter. They weren't bad parents, not in a sense, but they didn't
understand me properly. And I had a strange, disturbing feeling that
they were never going to be able to. Not now. Not after the woods.
 "I'm going to see her." Dad's muffled voice came from the hallway
outside my bedroom door. I was huddled up in the corner of my bed, my
filthy party frock had been discarded to the floor and I had dressed
myself in a pink tee-shirt and some white shorts. I hadn't showered
yet, and my hair was filthy, but I was still too confused in my
thoughts to bother about my physical appearance.
 There was a soft knock at the door.
 "Linda darling? It's Dad. Can I come in sweetheart?"
 I remained silent. It seemed like the right thing to do, considering I
hadn't spoken to anyone since the frightening incident in the woods.
But I knew Dad would come in anyway ; Dad's often go where Mums fear to
tread. The door eased open with a gentle squeal.
 "Honey?"
 My head was resting against the wall. I was staring quite blankly at
Constable's "The White Horse". Dad came up behind me and released a
small sigh. "Oh Linda." he whispered. "I've been looking for you all
night." He paused, perhaps waiting for a reaction from me. He wasn't
going to get one, because Uncle Colin's Party was still fresh in my
mind. Nothing he told me would make me feel sorry for running away.
"Are you alright? What happened? Where did you..." He broke off and
crouched down to the floor to pick up my filthy dress. "My God, if
anyone touched you Linda-"
 "Pleath go away." I said, as politely as I could. "I'm tired, Dad."
 I heard him scoop up my clothes and back away towards the door. He
waited for a few moments, but that was alright. He was only looking at
me, and I didn't mind. I knew he loved me very much.
 "Well okay," he said awkwardly. "You get some sleep. Do you want me to
make you something to eat? Cheese and lettuce-"
 "No thanks." I said, still staring at the famous painting. My voice
sounded immensely woman-like and strong, and I liked it that way :
Little Lispy Linda had died in the dark woods and now, Grown-up Linda
had arrived. Grown-up, Strong Linda with a woman's voice and an iron
heart. And nobody messed with Grown-up Linda. I smiled a bit, but Dad
didn't see.
 "If you want us we'll be downstairs." he said softly. He opened the
door, paused, then added, "We do love you, you know. More than
anything. Shelley does too, despite what you did."
 "Thee detherved it." I heard myself say.
 Dad cleared his throat as quietly as he could. "She's your sister,
Linda. She'd never have done the same to you. Never."
 I whisked around and Dad jerked back.
 "You don't know the half of it." I hissed.
 "Then tell me." Dad said patiently. His eyes were red, like Mum's, and
he looked very pale and weary. "Tell me honey. I'll listen."
 "People think I'm thtupid. Well I'm thick of it." I told him.
 "Nobody thinks you're stupid, Linda-"
 "Oh no? What about the party? All them people laughing at me-"
 "They weren't... well, they were just..."
 I nodded at him, realising my victory. "Yeah. Let me gueth. They were
all laughing at Uncle Colin."
 "Linda honey-"
 I turned back around. "Leave me alone, Dad."
 Reluctantly, he backed out of the room and closed the door.


                                 -3-

 My bedroom was small and cramped and covered in Constable's famous
paintings. I had a Turner too, "Steamer in a Snow Storm", and just
staring at it reminded me of the stream.
# How had I found my way home from the woods?
 The question seemed simple enough to answer, certainly easier than
most I had tried myself with, but I couldn't come up with anything. It
was as though a chunk of time had been stolen from my memory - time
that could have involved absolutely anything. I remembered a black
figure with long arms and a strange, drooping neck, but that was all. I
wasn't frightened, because I wasn't Little Lispy Linda anymore.
 I was grown-up now ; Big Grown-up Linda.
 Laid on the bed, huddled up in a ball, back to the door, I had the
feeling I was being watched. Watched by something black... grotesque...
something that would make even Grown-up Linda scream.
 I swung my head around.
 The door was closed. The rest of the room was a shambles, but nothing
horrific was standing in it. I glanced up at the window above my bed.
 What's happened to me? I thought worriedly. What did I see in those
woods? How did I get home so quickly? Who's watching me?
 There was a soft knock at the door.
 "Linda?" It was Shelley. She sounded frightened of me. "Do you want to
come downstairs for tea? Mummie's cooked..." she paused, and I could
imagine her consulting a written message from my mother. "..she's
cooked Sheperd's Pie and... something else..." she waited again.
 My stomach was aching and I knew I couldn't avoid everyone forever.
"I'll be down in a bit." I said reluctantly.
 Shelley scuttled away merrily to inform her superiors.
 I sat forwards, ran my hands through my hair, stretched and yawned.
 My room was furnished with a small black and white TV set, a radio,
several cupboards, an old wooden wardrobe and a random sprinkling of
magazines and books. I had a small mirror, but no dressing table ;
fashions and make-up didn't interest me much. Shelley and Mum had never
been able to swallow that fact - a girl who didn't wear lipstick and
refused to powder her face was an oddity in their eyes.
 I stood up and walked towards the door. My stomach hurt a little, but
I was quite sure it was only through lack of food. I walked across the
landing to the stairs.
 I could hear Mum and Dad talking in the kitchen. Pots and pans clanged
occasionally and Shelley put in a few squeaky words, but I couldn't
make out their conversation. There was a pleasing smell of cooked
vegetables and gravy drifting through the house and I followed it, like
a starving fox, down to the front room.
 The long, wooden dining table was positioned in the right hand corner,
surounded by four large chairs. I sat down uncomfortably on the seat
nearest to the patio, making sure I had enough footspace to leave the
table quickly and effortlessly, should the atmosphere become too
unsettling.
 A few moments later, Dad walked in from the kitchen with Shelley
clinging onto his back. They were laughing and joking, but they stopped
abruptly when they saw me.
 "Hello love." Dad said and eased Shelley onto the carpet. She ran back
into the kitchen, probably to tell Mum that I had come downstairs. Dad
sat up to the table - in the seat directly opposite me - and folded his
arms. He was wearing a plain blue tee-shirt and I could see the huge
muscles on his chest bulging underneath. He looked more like a weight-
lifter than an architect.
 "If it's not cheese and lettuce, it's sheperd's pie, right?" he said
with a pleasantly funny smile.
 Mum marched into the room holding up two steaming plates. Shelley came
hurrying after her, the pants of her pyjama's gradually sliding down. I
gave her a typical "dumb little sister" look, and she grinned like a
Cheshire cat.
 "There, honey. Eat up." Mum said, sliding a dish of food under my
nose. She gave the other plate to Dad, stared at me for a few moments
as though convincing herself I was real, then trundled back into the
kitchen, sniffling discreetly.
 I snatched up my knife and fork and began to eat. The food was red hot
but delicious and I concentrated hard on making the whole plateful
vanish.
 "That good, huh?" Dad commented as I threw food into my mouth
mercilessly. I gave him a quick glance and carried on. Mum and Shelley
gathered around the table too, but I barely noticed them. I hadn't
eaten so ferociously since the Dark Operation. Fear it seemed, gave me
an appetite. It took me only a few minutes to clear my plate.
 "We met Mr and Mrs Cockroft and the party last night." Dad said. "You
know? Lorraine and Steven? Those people who live in the Isle of Man?"
 "Mmm." I said, picking at my food.
 "Well, we talked to them a lot." Dad resumed. "And they invited your
Mum and me to go back with them. They said one of our kids could go too
but, well, only one. Because there's not enough room for both of you."
 I glanced at him briefly.
 "Now I said we won't be going if both our daughters couldn't come," he
said. "But Steve... Mr Cockroft... he's assigned me to come up with
architectural plans and, to cut a long story short, I kind of have to
go along with what he says. Money's tight at the moment, you know that
Linda, because you didn't get that bike you wanted for your birthday...
we couldn't afford, but if I can pull this deal off, I'll be able to
get you a really nice bike."
 In other words, I thought, I'm staying here on my own whilst you lot
piss off to the Isle of Man with Cockroft and have fun. Don't bother
with the excuses Dad, I know exactly why I'm not invited. Exactly.
 "If you don't want us to go, we won't." Mum said quietly. "But it
would mean a lot to your Dad, and he promises to get you a bike. A
really smart one too. With gears and everything."
 I carried on picking at the crumbs on my plate, occasionally popping
them into my mouth. They tasted cold and sickly.
 "I think perhaps some time alone is what you need." Dad said. "You're
growing up and teenagers need a bit of space to breath now and then."
 "But we will stay if you want." Mum added persistently.
 "If you want to go to the island tomorrow..." Shelley began, then
stopped and shrugged. Mildly surprised, I gave Dad an asking glance.
 "We set off tomorrow morning." he said and bushed his eyebrows
together. "We weren't going to go at all, because we thought we'd lost
you for ever... but you're back now, thank the Lord."
 "There's still time if you want to get ready." Mum said softly. "We'll
be leaving at about six o'clock tommorow, but we'll help you pack a
case. Shelley can go to stay with Mrs Drake."
 Shelley wasn't too pleased to hear that, I could tell. She bit her
gums - probably in order to stop the instinctive wail she would have
released under normal circumstances.
 "It'th becauth of the party ithn't it?" I said and gave them all a
quick peep. "Mithter Cockroft thaw what I did. You'll be athamed of me
if I go, won't you?"
 Mum placed her cutlery down. "We're not ashamed of you darling."
 "Teenagers often freak out." Dad said. "Mr Cockroft hasn't got any
children so he doesn't know that." He looked at Mum, then averted his
eyes back to me. "We just think you'd benefit from some time alone.
Mister Cockroft might make you feel uncomfortable-"
 "Juth go." I shrugged. "I'm not bothered." That was a lie. I was as
jealous as hell about Shelley's position as the jewel of the family.
 Perhaps if I had spoken up about everything at that moment - Paul, the
Dark Operation, the low opinion I had of myself and the horrible flash-
backs I experienced, amongst other things - the weekend ahead might
have turned out very much different. But I lacked the confidence. I was
terribly ashamed and frightened ; frightened that they would laugh or
misunderstand me, and that I would be driven away again... back to the
woods.
 "Uncle Colin was drunk." Dad lied. "What he said was silly, he was
trying to show off. Mum was drunk too." Another lie. "She didn't mean
to laugh. Shelley didn't either, did you love?"
 Shelley shook her head much too quickly.
 (Linda you sound so silly!)
 Mum stretched her hand across the table and tried to pick up my
fingers. I spidered myself out of reach and gave her a dangerous stare.
Tears escaped her again, and Dad looked down at his empty plate.
 He knew things wouldn't ever be like they were. He knew I had been
humiliated beyond the point of acceptance and that I had every reason
to act with hostility. When his eyes tweaked mine, I saw something else
too - a sign that he knew more than just those things. He knew about
one of my greatest fears. Perhaps Paul... perhaps the Operation... or
maybe it was another chapter of my painful past. I could see shame in
his eyes. Terrible shame.
 "I know I'm not pretty." I whispered.
 Mum lifted her head and sobbed, "Don't say that! You're beautiful-"
 "No." I insisted and Dad pressed his hand against Mum's arm to refrain
her from interrupting me again. "You don't have to pretend. I'm not
thtupid. I've heard people talking. And I know I can't thpeak right
either." I paused to wipe my eyes. "But try and put yourthelf in my
plathe. Try and imagine what ith like for me."
 I waited, slightly hoping that Dad would protest against my speech. He
didn't though, which made it all the more painful, because it confirmed
the fact that he agreed ; he couldn't argue with me. Everything I had
said was perfectly true.
 "I underthand why you have to go on the trip." I said, my voice blurry
and unstable. "And I don't mind. Juth don't thay to mithter Cockrotht
that I'm thorry for what I did at the party. Becauthe I'm not. Theeing
you all laughing at me changed everything." I stood up and took a
shakey breath. "Don't ethpect me to forgive you."
 Dad took Mum into his arms as I walked towards the door of the room.
Shelley sat biting her nails, blinking solemnly at her parents. I stood
in the doorway for a moment and said, "Tea wath nithe, Mum. Thankth."
 I ascended to my room again, clutching my stomach.
 It hadn't stopped aching.
 In fact, the pain was much more agonising now.


                                 -4-

 I sat alone in my room, thinking strange thoughts and drifting ever
closer to dreamland. Had I been wise not to forgive my parents? Or had
I sentenced myself to eternal solitude? Questions came and went, ideas
exploded and then died away... and the pains in my stomach grew more
and more painful with every passing minute.
 Sleep, a voice commanded - the voice of God perhaps. Sleep, for you'll
need all your strength for tomorrow. You are going to have many
experiences. Some you will never be able to forget.
 That voice was right.
 It felt right too ; perhaps it was God Himself talking to me. Perhaps
I had been foolish to argue with Him that night in the woods. Maybe He
was taking care of me after all.
 But why the stomach pains, I wondered anxiously. Why should I have to
suffer physical torture after so much mental pain? The voice didn't
answer that. It didn't seem to like being asked questions, which
allowed me to doubt it's divinity ; surely anything in possession of
unspeakable powers should easily be able to answer a mere mortal's
question.
 I was tottering on the brink of sleep.
 "Linda?" I heard Dad calling from the door. "Are you asleep honey?"
 "Mmm." was my weak reply.
 A great wave of blackness swallowed me whole.

                                 -5-

# Click.
 "...answer to Bill and Ted's bow-gus journey here on BBC one eff-em.
Twice the fun, double the music, here it is, new single in at number
one and we think it's... EXCELLENT... It's twenty-to-eight, lets dance
away those mornin' blues with this most triumphant, bodacious, sonic
sound rocker from-"
# Click.
 I pulled my fingers away from the bedside radio, stretched and yawned.
My eyes were sore and flakey and I felt extrordinarily cold.
 It took me six minutes to realise I wasn't laying in my own bed, nor
was I dressed in my usual clothes. Someone had dressed me in a pair of
"Care Bear" pyjamas and moved me into my parents bedroom. I was tucked
up in their huge double bed right now and I had just turned off Mum's
pink alarm/radio. The whole room was pink ; the curtains, the quilt,
the chest of drawers - even the pictures on the walls contained shades
of pink. I hated the colour. It drove me crazy.
 "Mum?" I croaked. "Mum are you there?"
 The house was completely silent.
 "Mum?"
 Nothing.
 I looked at the bold digital numbers on the alarm/radio clock and
informed myself of the time. Mum had a lot of things on her bedside
cabinet, including a Wilbur Smith novel, a box of pastel coloured
tissues, several headache pills and a small, pink telephone directory.
She had her own push-button phone attached the wall just above the
cabinet. She was the kind of woman who called friends frequently to
discuss the latest household gossip. I noticed an envelope resting
on top of the novel, marked :

?                           OPEN THIS LINDA!

 It was Mum's handwriting.
 I quickly snatched it up and tore it open. Inside I found a key to the
house, a small scrap of paper with several telephone numbers written on
it, and a badly spelt note which read :


# Princess Linda,

#   We left for the Isle of Man at half-past five! Didn't wake you,
# bicause you were fast asleep! Hope you feel okay! I've called lots
# of people and asked them to phone or call in and chek up on you, so
# you shouldn't get lonely! Missis Drake from the Children's Home at
# Maybank said she'd visit sometime to keep you company! She's such a
# nice lady, she said she'd cook you something special!

#  I've left you a key to the house, some phone numbers (including our
# number in the Isle of Man) and I've made you lots and lots of cheeze
# and lettice sandwiches! Check the fridge! We'll ring you tonight!

#   Gotta rush, honey! Love you more than anything!

#                                                        - Mummy.
#                                                        x x x x x


#  PS! Shelley said you were getting on really well with hunky Paul at
#      the party! He's soooo cute, isn't he! I rang Uncle Colin and he
#      said Paul would LOVE to come and keep you company! So be
#      expecting him! But don't do anything naughty!


 "No." I whispered, gripping the note with both hands. I started to
shiver and my teeth began to chatter. "Nuh-no! No way! No Mum! Pleathe,
don't let the Paul-thing come! Pleathe!"
 I screwed the letter up hard and threw it across the room.
 That was when my stomach flared with pain, I felt vomit ascend my
throat, and I realised something terrible was about to happen.


# The darkness is unleashed in part four...