Posts Tagged ‘horror’

Location: Mexico

Leader: Mikel Arena

We See, We Take, We Grow

An underworld group that emerged from the ashes of the ‘Southern Hemisphere War’. Originating in New Zealand, the Makri flooded into Australia when Prime Minister Grimsby opened the gates to the Maori people who were subjected to brutal slaughters in their homeland. Undetected the Makri joined the refugees, spreading from Australia into Asia, Europe and eventually South America.

They are master smugglers and will not be stopped by any border. A specialist unit titled the Counter Marki Intelligence Agency (CMIA) was set up by government officials in United States, United Kingdom, Germany, France, Japan and Australia as a means to stop the spread.

It is said that the Makri are like a super virus that cannot be contained. Whilst steps can be made to reduce the number of their cells operating globally it will never be fully eradicated.

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Coming soon as a graphic novel series!

It was my thirteenth birthday and I was spending it with my Aunt Lola. She was a quirky old lady who had known me since I was born. She wasn’t really my aunt at all but she had been such a close family friend she earned herself the title. I had come to live with her after an unfortunate accident with a moose and a very high cliff claimed the lives of my parents.

Well Loopy,” she said. (This was just a nickname she had for me. My real name is Lucy) “I can’t believe you are thirteen years old already.”

Given that I was so accident prone, having broken several bones several times, I was pretty mesmerised that I had reached teenage years too. Aunt Lola always made a big fuss of me on my birthday. She had no children of her own so all of her affection was aimed towards me. She gave the most random and strange gifts each year so now that I was a little older and a little more ready for her antics I couldn’t wait to see what was in store. She put an envelope into my hand and kissed my forehead. “I hope you like this one.”

My hands began to shake. Given my aunt’s fondness for all things odd there was no telling what the envelope contained. Therein could lie the secret to a number of mysteries. It could hold the key to eternal life. It could be a coupon for 10% off at any local clothes store. I tore open the envelope excitedly. A shining slip of paper fell onto my lap. I picked it up allowing the coloured paper to delight the eyes. On that special paper read the words, ‘Special Access to the Museum’. Well it wasn’t the secret to the universe but it was a great idea none the less. I was the strange kid who would rather sit in the corner of the playground reading about battles of old than play with the other children. I would much rather hear what ancient Greek philosophers had to say than my fellow classmates who stood at the edge of the football park picking their noses.

There was no time to lose. I had heard on the radio the week before that the local museum had just opened a new exhibit on Ancient Egypt. I grabbed my shining red rain jacket that was water proof but still light and airy. I pulled on my backpack which had the emblem of several superheroes embroidered on it. Aunt Lola had been complaining of what she called ‘the hardships of older ladies’. I wasn’t sure what exactly this meant but to combat it she had to lie with her feet elevated and a piece of silver on her forehead, counting backwards from one hundred.

I decided to leave the Egypt exhibit to the end. It had been busy when I arrived with business men awing at the new set up and mothers being dragged by their progeny because they thought it looked ‘cool’.

The day began to wind down. The museum emptied itself of the day trippers and quietened. As I walked through the main foyer the rubber soles of my shoes squeaked. I saw the fresh sign that directed the way to Ancient Egypt.

There was a lot of gold around. The walls were covered In hieroglyphs. I couldn’t tell if the curators had actually read the hieroglyphs or if they were merely there to impress the visitors because from what I could read they told of a bathroom disaster somewhere off the banks of the Nile.

As I absorbed all of the knowledge that the exhibit had to offer I heard the doors to the section close. I was the only person around, living at least. The lights dimmed except on the large mummy that was encased at the end of the hall. His face had been preserved all that time in a stern expression. The accompanying information explained that his name was ‘Ahmose’. He had been a fisherman but not a particularly good one. His people saw him as cursed, a jinx if you will. Ahmose was responsible for all the ill fate that befell them. Poor Ahmose. It seems he was accident prone like me. Because he had bumped into a builder, causing him to fall, destroying the temple that was in construction it seems he was now preserved for people of my year to gawk at his stupidity. They took jinxed folk very seriously in those days.

My head was buzzing with all the warmth, knowledge and dusty artefacts that the museum had to offer. I made my way back out to the main hall intent on catching the bus home. I pulled open the door but it was locked. ‘Surely they would check everyone had gone before they locked up,’ I thought. There was a heavy smash. My heart leapt from the steady thud of a tortoise to the gallop of a hare. I could feel a presence looming behind me but I couldn’t bare to look.

Argh!’ cried a dusty, throaty voice.

Slowly I did turn. Ahmose was now standing upright for the first time in many years. The paper that gave me special access to the museum slipped from my pocket. Ahmose reached down to pick it up with a crunchy crack of his mid section. He clasped it between the remains of his fingers and held it out to me.

Leave me alone!” I screamed. “Help!” Surely the museum wasn’t deserted.

Argh!” Ahmose replied.

With a quiver of my extremities I reached into my pocket and took out my mobile phone which Aunt Lola insisted I carried in case of emergencies. I was pretty sure that being attacked by the undead could very well be considered an emergency.

Hello?” Aunt Lola answered.

Help me!” I cried out.

What’s wrong?” she asked still calmly balancing the silver on her forehead.

A mummy! Its came to life. I have to get out of here!”

Most people when they tell their aunt something like this they either think they are crazy or attempting a practical joke. Not my aunt. She returned as though it was an everyday occurrence. “Do you like him?” she asked.

Like him? Its a mummy! He’s going to kill me!”

Aunt Lola groaned. “Oh don’t be so dramatic Loopy. He’s your birthday present. Don’t you like him?”

I stared at Ahomse. He stumbled backwards almost tripping over his own left foot. “Argh!” he groaned again looking at his left leg. “How many people can boast having their own mummy,” continued my aunt.

Not many,” I agreed.

Enjoy,” she said and hung up leaving me alone with the dial tone and my mummy.

Ahmose lifted a piece of pottery from the shelving. It slipped from his fingers and smashed on the floor.

My most immediate problem was devising a plan to get out of the museum that looked possibly locked, take my mummy on the bus and get home whilst not getting caught for thieving from the museum.

Next birthday I’ll just ask for clothes?

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Once upon a time, in a land far from where I write to you, existed two kingdoms headed by two great rulers. The kingdoms of Elgany and Navaria bordered on each other. Elgany, a kingdom of wealth and culture lay to the temperate south. The kingdom of Navaria, a land of harsh landscape and strong people lay to the cold north.

King Roman of Navaria and King Benjamin of Elgany were the closest of allies and the greatest of friends. Benjamin’s queen, Manon, was the sister in law to Roman’s cousin which made them relations of sorts. In all of their years as friends King Roman’s family had never hosted Benjamin at their home, Castle Kroestov. Benjamin rarely left Mardaux Palace in Elgany so it came as something of a surprise when Roman received a letter from him stating that his arrival in Navaria was imminent.

So what is the king like?” Roman’s wife, Francesca, had asked having never met Benjamin.

Roman smiled as he considered the thousand adjectives that would befit his friend. Burly, friendly, loud, excitable; all of them would not suffice. Benjamin had an overwhelming presence. He treated all as though they were his family. His visit made for an unexpected delight.

Roman waited in the entrance of Castle Kroestov as the convoy of golden carriages carrying the pale blue and yellow flags of Elgany drew nearer. The Navarian king was accompanied by his two sons, James the elder and Edward the younger. Both of them were in the throws of early adolescence. The king’s only daughter, Charlotte, waited at her father’s side. She was unsure of what to expect.

The Navarian guards – dressed in the black and red of their own flag – opened the doors to allow entry for their regal visitors. In a parade of noise and commotion, King Benjamin came bounding in. His large smile wide and bright. He abstained from respectful bows to his fellow king and instead gripped Roman in a tight embrace. Behind Benjamin marched a very pretty queen with long golden hair. Her neck was completely covered in glittering pearls. Her fingers were laced with diamonds. She wore a gown of rich purple with emeralds sown into the bodice. Queen Manon was a great deal younger than her husband. She was a youthful woman who shone radiant amongst the finery. Four girls ushered in behind their mother in order of height. Behind them a nanny carried Ben’s only son, the infant Prince Julian.

You brought the whole family!” Roman cheered. “I’m so happy to see you all.”

Manon gave a polite curtsey to the Navarian king. Her daughters followed suit.

Benjamin approached Edward and tousled his ebony curls. “Your sons are grown now Roman. What strong young men they are.” He drew a small sickle bladed dagger from the pocket of his black travelling cloak. The handle was studded with diamonds. He handed it to the young prince.

Thank you, Your Majesty,” said Edward in receipt to the gift. His eyes were drawn to the beautiful weapon.

Ben, you shouldn’t have,” Roman interceded.

Nonsense! Every well bred boy in Elgany has one, Eddy should too,” said Benjamin. He smiled at Edward before turning his attention to James. “And you must be James.” This time he shook the boy’s hand with reserved respect. “Future ruler of this wonderful land.” He drew a golden seal with the emblem of Elgany etched on it from his other pocket. “This jewel has never left the confines of Mardaux. Keep it safe.”

James shook his head. “Your Majesty is too generous. I cannot accept this.”

Benjamin shrugged his shoulders. “Of course you can. It is mine to gift as I please. Perhaps when you are king you will remember this and look to Elgany with kindness. Long may the friendship between our two kingdoms continue.”

Before any more objections could be made, Benjamin lifted Princess Charlotte into his arms. A little girl of fewer years than her brothers, Charlotte giggled as she was spun around like a ragdoll and placed on Benjamin’s shoulders. “I have always had a keen eye for precious things and I think I may have found the most precious of them all!”

Roman laughed, “My little princess is not for sale.”

Pity,” was Benjamin’s retort. He leaned forward still carrying the child on his shoulders he kissed Francesca on both cheeks. “My belle, introductions are not necessary for you. Roman speaks of you so often I feel I know you as well as I would my own sister.”

Francesca curtseyed. “I could say very much the same. It is a pleasure to have you here with us.”

Roman drew Benjamin aside. He lowered his voice to a more solemn tone. “I am pleased that you have come to visit us but I must ask, is there another purpose?”

Benjamin’s large brown eyes clouded with solemnity much unlike him. He drew Charlotte from his shoulders and down his back. “We should speak alone.” He addressed the child, “Charlotte, my Madeleine would very much like to meet you. Will you show her around?”

At the king’s request, Charlotte made to introduce herself to the Elganite princesses.

So what is wrong?” Roman asked.

What I have to tell you is of grave importance,” Benjamin began. “My kingdom is in danger.”

***

As Roman and Benjamin drew away to talk alone, Manon left her ladies in waiting behind and was escorted by Francesca to a study. It was a cerebral room, filled with polished mahogany furniture and shelves filled with books. A fire was lit. The cold snow and icy winds outside contrasted the cosy warmth of the study. It was a room that Francesca kept exclusively for her own use. Even the servants of the castle dared not to enter.

You have a beautiful home, Your Majesty,” Manon commented with politeness.

It’s draughty and very grey but it is home. Not as lovely as Mardaux I hear.”

Manon smiled coyly. “My husband enjoys the finer things.”

Francesca poured them a glass of deep red wine each in crystal goblets. Like al of her children, she had raven hair and a pale complexion. She was a striking woman with the brightest blue eyes.

You like the finer things too from what I see hanging around your neck,” Francesca commented, handing a glass to the Elganite queen.

Manon clasped the glass in both hands. She shied away from eye contact with Francesca. “I’m glad I have the opportunity to speak to you alone.”

Francesca seated herself on the sofa opposite. She lay one arm over the back, the other holding her wine. “Really?” she enquired. “Might I ask why?”

Manon took a deep breath. “There is talk, rumours of what you are capable of.” Francesca narrowed her gaze. She already knew what Manon referred to but she wanted to draw it from her like venom from a snake bite. “They say you are a witch of tremendous power.”

Francesca betrayed no emotion. “The say a lot of things,” she answered.

My little boy, Julien, is a sick infant. Benjamin has hopes of him succeeding him one day but I fear he won’t see his next birthday.”

Isn’t that what doctors are for?” Francesca dismissed.

We’ve had the best doctors that money can buy. It is no use. Please, Your Majesty, if the rumours are true you can help my little Prince Julien.”

Francesca darted a glance at the door before leaning forward. “My twin, who is no longer with us, was also named Julien. He would not have liked to see any suffering in his name sake. I will help your little boy but there is something you have to do.”

Anything! I am at your mercy. No price is too great.”

Francesca raised her hand to hush her. “Firstly, calm yourself down. I can’t have anyone overhear what I am about to do. Secondly, my husband can know nothing of this. He would worry that his people wouldn’t look too kindly on witchcraft, no matter its intention.”

Manon breathed a sigh of relief. “I am eternally in your debt. Your Majesty is too kind.”

Francesca shook her head. “Hold your applause,” she said. “There is a great penalty attached to giving life, even to one so small. It can’t be conjured from nowhere. It has to be taken from something.”

Manon wiped the tear that was forming in the corner of her eye. “I’ll pay with my own life.”

Francesca stood. She went to a cabinet by the window in an almost gliding step. From a drawer she removed a straw figure in the crude shape of a person. “I can see to it that your little boy never falls to ill health. It can’t come from a parent because that is where the life springs.”

Manon’s upset was beginning to grow. “What can I do?”

Francesca clasped the poppet tightly in her right hand. “If your baby boy means so much to you, choose one of your daughters to be replaced.”

***

Princess Madeleine of Elgany, the youngest of Benjamin’s daughters was making a game of hiding and seeking with Princess Charlotte of Navaria. Charlotte had the advantage of knowing Castle Kroestov as home so she hid and Madeleine went in search of her. Madeleine’s excitement for the game grew when she wandered into the kitchens and found Charlotte stowed away underneath one of the counters. Charlotte cried out and ran, almost knocking the chef onto his backside. Madeleine chased after her, both girls alight with laughter.

The Elgany princess lost her Navarian counterpart somewhere along the third floor so she was searching from room to room. Her heart beating a little faster with the thrill and anticipation of the game. One of the doors lay ajar. Madeleine assumed Charlotte had hid in there so she boldly charged inside. She almost crashed into a man larger in presence than her father. He wore a military uniform but not like that of the guards at the entrance of the castle. He was an officer.

And who might you be?” he asked. His grin stretching in maliciousness from ear to ear. His mouth filled with pearly white teeth.

Madeleine hesitated. She stepped back towards the doorway. “I’m looking for Her Highness, Princess Charlotte.”

The officer bore down on her like the jaws of a great monster. “Little girls shouldn’t be in here,” he said. His voice was husky but polite with underlying tones of danger.

Madeleine’s eyes were drawn to a table behind him. Spread across it was a map of Navaria with red pins in ever widening circles around Castle Kroestov. The officer noticed her gaze and challenged it. Still smiling his dark eyes blazed like a fierce forest predator. The sheepskin fur forming part of his uniform seeming much too soft for such a marauding creature.

Drenisov?” barked the little Princess Charlotte.

The officer – Drenisov – looked past Madeleine to the Navarian princess and offered her a most congenial bow. “Your Highness, this young lady appeared to be lost. I was merely directing her onto the proper path.” He gracefully moved back towards the table and folded the map away.

This young lady is Her Highness, Princess Madeleine. She is also my friend. You will show her the proper respect.” Charlotte took Madeleine’s hand and pulled her away. Drenisov watched them with a growl until they were out of the line of view before closing the door and locking it.

***

Benjamin paced the room. Roman watched his restlessness from an armchair by the fire. At the Navarian king’s request they had been left alone.

There are whispers of my people overthrowing me. They no longer believe in my right as a ruler granted to me from the Lords above,” Benjamin was explaining.

How can you be so certain?” Roman asked.

Benjamin shook his head. “My life has been in danger for some time. I can’t even trust my own people. They are looking for my head.”

I never thought I would see the day where a rebellion would rise in Elgany.” King Roman was flabbergasted. “Is there anything I can do to help?”

Benjamin affixed his usual light air again. “My Minister, Antoinie Lubek, has been a tremendous help. He is keeping the people appeased until we can find the source of this upset.”

Navaria will always be your friend and ally,” Roman assured him.

Benjamin gripped his arm. “I don’t fear for myself. As a King my life has always been forfeit to a higher purpose. It is my young boy Julien that warrants my concern. Should anything happen to me they will make an example of him as heir to my throne. They will tear him apart or worse, they will make him a puppet to their whims.” Roman listened to his friends concerns with silent horror. “The reason I came here – aside from seeing your lovely home – was to ask you a personal favour.”

Roman urged him to continue. “Should there be an uprising in Elgany, will you provide safe passage and refuge for Julien?”

Of course,” said Roman immediately without having to give any thought to the matter.

I don’t ask you this as a king and ally. I ask you this as a friend and a father.”

Roman had already decided. He too had a strong paternal instinct. Roman’s first dedication was to his children. This was a bond that he and Benjamin shared. “Of course I will assure that Julien is safe here but what about you? What about your girls?”

Benjamin itched his nose like he did most often when he was feeling nervous. “Nothing is certain yet. I just want to be cautious. I have to return to Elgany. If there is to be a revolution then my leaving will only fan the flames. My girls will be safe enough. Manon can take them as far as Hagen Moor if she needs to and they will not be disturbed. They will be of no consequence to the rebels. However, they will bay for Julien’s blood and so I need to know he will be somewhere he can be protected until he is old enough to return to Elgany and resume his throne.”

You needn’t fear. For as long as I live your family will always be kept safe…”

***

Princess Marie, the eldest of King Benjamin’s children, had taken quite a shine to Prince James of Navaria. She had watched as he finished talking with his young brother and began to make his way to the third floor. She followed him in the hope of being able to elicit a conversation. Marie was blossoming into a beautiful young woman. As an Elganite of noble birth she took great pride in her appearance. She was dressed often in pale blue as it matched the soft tone of her eyes and lemon because it highlighted the warmth of her golden tresses. She watched as James made his way along a long corridor on the third floor engrossed in his own thoughts. He quickly turned, having forgotten something and made his way back towards her. Marie turned to the painting on the wall at her side. She focused on the artists attention to detail and the brush strokes that had been given so much thought. She couldn’t really be sure of what she was looking at because she felt James close beside her. Her heart began to beat a little faster.

Are you lost?” James asked politely.

Marie turned to him, hoping she seemed nonchalant. “I was just admiring this painting. There is so much beautiful art work around the castle. It must be thrilling to be able to look upon it every day.”

James too looked at the painting. It was an image of Castle Kroestov painted generations previous to theirs. “Well as thrilling as it can be looking at a picture of a the castle every day whilst in that castle everyday …” Marie shied away. James laughed. “I’m sure Mardaux Palace must be brimming with art work.”

It is but the art there seems so … superficial. When there is so much of it, it begins to become less special. What you have here is genuine.”

Prince James had a handsome smile. He had the finely sculpted features of his mother and the charm of his father. His raven hair was thick and well presented. He was not overly indulged in jewels or finery. His simple refinement echoed the strength of his people. “I’m very glad you like it. You are Princess Marie aren’t you?”

Marie offered a polite curtsey. “It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she said.

James took her hand and kissed it. “The pleasure is all mine I assure you.” Marie bowed her head and smiled coyly. “It is getting a little stuffy in here. I was going to walk in the gardens for a little while. Would you like to join me?”

Marie became giddy. “I would love to.”

The snow had ceased. The sun sat high in the sky as James and Marie made their way through the well tended gardens of Castle Kroestov. They saw little snow in the South so Marie was enjoying the glittering sparkle that lay across the deep red of the rose bushes.

They were discussing matters that brought them far from their regal parentage.

I enjoy sailing,” Marie was explaining. “I have my own little boat which I take up and down the Chessy River.”

James was intrigued. He had heard much of the Elganite way of life but had never witnessed it first hand. “I was on a boat once when I was a small child. The rocking motions made me sick the entire time. I have never been back on one since. My little sister, Charlotte, loves boats. So what is your boat’s name?”

Promise you won’t laugh?”

James raised his hands. “I promise…”

Alice,” Marie admitted.

James shrugged his shoulders. “That’s a fine name for a boat.”

Marie explained, “I had an invisible friend as a child. We went on all sorts of adventures. The boat is named after her.”

James chuckled. “Now that is just adorable.”

Marie laughed too. She slapped James’ arm playfully. “I warned you it was silly.”

James shook his head. “Not at all. I’m sure Alice is the finest vessel in all of Elgany.”

As they made their way to the furtherest end of the gardens they passed a large crooked tree. It was old and withered. Amidst the winter splendour the crooked tree stood brazenly against the beauty. It was not inviting, it was not life giving. The withered hands of the branches reached out like it threatened to throttle passers by.

Marie began to feel dizzy. James noticed her steps lurch so he gripped her arm. “I’m feeling a little faint,” she said.

Do you want to sit down?” James asked with genuine concern.

No I will be fine. It will pass.”

Marie’s delicate frame became a dead weight. With a sudden pull she slipped from James’ grasp and tumbled at the foot of the crooked tree. Blood spilled from her mouth onto the fresh white snow. She was gone. The doctors claimed her heart had failed her as though it had been crushed under a vice-like grip. Francesca watched from the window as attendants and a distraught king and queen saw to their daughter.

Fear, panic and horror would quickly spread and the two great kingdoms of Navaria and Elgany would fall to ruins.

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I was just a little kid when I first realised I had the power to bring things back from the dead. It’s not a skill that I would put on a job application or anything but it is definitely something not many people can do.

My beloved gerbil, Flower Pot, died and like most kids losing a pet I was distraught.

We’ll put him in a nice box and bury him,” mum had said softly.

Just put him in the bin.” My elder brother was not so sensitive.

I hadn’t been able to bring myself to move Flower Pot. When he started to stink we all agreed the time had come.

I lifted Flower Pot from his cage.

He was a good gerbil,” I muttered ceremoniously. Then I felt his little foot twitch.

Don’t be silly,” said dad. “That gerbil is long gone.”

I was almost at the point of agreeing when Flower Pot twitched again. I almost dropped him when he flicked his little ears, opened his beady eyes and turned over.

He’s alive! He’s alive!”

Mum, dad and my brother all shared a shocked expression that could only have been heightened if it had been me who had come back from the dead.

I grinned. My pet was safe and sound. His furry little body was warm again. He gave a squeak. I gushed. Then he sank his teeth into my finger. I had to shake him off. It took dad and my brother’s strength combined to pull the blood thirsty rodent from me. Flower Pot fell to the ground. He ran across the room. In the commotion the chair was knocked over, landing on the gerbil. Flower Pot still ended up in a box in the yard that day.

When word got out that I could bring pets back to life I was inundated with requests. I tried to explain that Fluffy and Snowball wouldn’t be the same but people were so attached to their animals who was I to stop them?

When Mrs Albot at number twenty four asked me to bring back her boa constrictor George, I had to call it quits. There was already a monster rabbit terrorising the local kids and a vicious goldfish in the pond in the park. We really didn’t need a 7ft reptile with a taste for flesh slithering around.

I hung up my walking dead pet business and life carried on as normal. That was until I met Harry.

Walking home, clutching the straps of my backpack and whistling to myself I passed the church. There was a teenaged boy sat on the steps. He was weeping behind a mop of black hair. His arms were tucked inside the sleeves of his hooded jacket.

Are you okay?” I asked. I loathed to see a stranger in trouble.

He looked up at me teary eyed. His eye liner had smudged.

It’s my girlfriend Zoe. She’s gone!”

He removed a photograph from his pocket. It was of a girl who would have been very pretty if it weren’t for the black curtains of hair almost concealing her entire face. Two blackened eyes peered out and black painted lips pouted.

She was so young. There was so much ahead of her.”

I felt sorry for him. My aunt said my ability was a gift. I wasn’t so sure. She hadn’t seen Flower Pot almost rip my finger off. Then again, I hadn’t tried it on humans before. Maybe this time it would be different.

The boy led me to the open casket that Zoe lay in. She looked peaceful. Her face was as pale as it always had been. She wore her signature black. Judging by the photo the girl had been preparing for her funeral her entire life.

I touched her forehead. Harry gave a gasp that echoed through the church as her eyes opened. She sat up like a villain in a vampire movie. Zoe reached her hands out and Harry helped her out of her satin bed.

It was quite a romantic scene really until she lunged forward and tried to chow down on his neck.

Yeah, she may get a little bitey,” I warned.

Are you feeling okay?” he asked her.

Urrggh,” she replied.

Harry turned to me. “What is wrong with her?”

Considering she was dead not a few moments ago I think she looks great,”

Urrrrgghh!” she agreed.

She won’t make much of a conversationalist and you will have to stop her biting people, but all in all you have her back. She looks zombielicious!”

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My dearest uncle,

I beseech you. I have written thrice before and have yet had no response. I hear that your kingdom is in turmoil. I long to help you bring the traitors to justice but if I leave my post they will hang me for desertion.

Three days ago, in the early morning, I was given a notice that I am accused of treason. This suggestion that I have led the rebellious forces against you was signed by your own hand. I have spent my life being nothing but loyal to you as my uncle and as my king. Just say the word and let me return home safely. I will find the ones spitting poison in your ears and I will have their heads.

Should you decide that my death is necessary just remember, my mother loved you. She took her own life because she couldn’t be with you. The idea of the separation was too much for her.

I hear that the one they call Annabelle now rules beside you. Be wary of her, for she has the eyes of a hawk and the tongue of a viper. A darkness follows her, the likes of which I have never seen.

Should I never see you again please know that I went to my death continuing to proclaim my innocence.

Your loving and devoted nephew.

Charles

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Run child as fast as your feet will carry you.

Don’t pause for a breath or stop to tie your shoe.

You can look around, cry for help if you like

But this is one time the monster will strike.

You can run deep into the forest, you can hide in the dark,

But we will always find you, for you have the mark.

You will never survive; you’ve already begun to rot,

You can gather wood, set camp just like daddy taught.

It all seems so fruitless now, so close to the end,

When a monster lurks behind every bend.

Our paths are made from the bones of the others,

Somewhere waiting for them are weeping mothers

You will discover as they did, there is now way out,

Burst your little lungs trying to scream and shout.

Just listen please

To the noise of the trees.

They will warn you of what lurks in every inch of this place.

Creatures waiting to snatch you, all eager for a taste.

They won’t wait long, for they are hungry indeed.

Only the blood of a child will fulfil their greed,

All roads lead to the same place in the end.

We all go without a coin, a care or a friend,

So look up child and see what lies in wait.

Thank you little child, for taking the bait.

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Did you know that there is an inspirational message behind THIS PLACE?

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I was once told a tale of two sisters in despair, the made quite an odd and opposing pair.

The first was named Jane, who had a small child.

The second was named Sally, who walked for miles.

Through the dark forest, to the furtherest end,

Sally took comfort in the quiet round every bend.

Sally listened to the rustling in the leaves.

She had memorised the songs of the birds in the trees.

There in the woods, lay a special place.

For it was there that their mother had fallen from Grace.

Deep in the forest, past the first gate,

is where their mother had met a grisly fate.

Sally would return day after day,

even though Jane had warned her to stay away.

For Jane life went on as much as it had,

protecting her child from all that was bad.

Online she had met man she really did like,

So she arranged to meet the stranger who called himself Mike.

Talking and talking, they had done for days,

not really knowing each other’s ways.

With her sister distracted, Sally continued her walk,

with no one to disturb her, no one to talk.

Jane was warned not to meet a stranger,

unknowns on the internet had led to such danger.

Jane took no notice she was sensible after all,

Mike was a good guy, he had it all.

Jane carried on, straightening the house as she went.

Her last thoughts being, what Sally had meant.

She tried to contact her sister a lot,

but Sally was drawn back the murder spot.

Sally found the tree, where it had all went awry,

where her mother had given her final cry.

There had been a lot of blood, or so they said,

when they found the mother, torn, cold, dead.

The river had run red in the pale blue dawn,

for the two sisters, the mother was gone.

While Sally was drawn closer to the horror,

Jane couldn’t wait to meet her new lover.

‘Get some rest before the meet,’ she said.

Her child was content so she slipped off to bed.

Sally could still smell her mother’s perfume,

It had followed her mother into every room.

But alas there was nothing that could bring her back,

just the memories of that fading dirt track.

Had she been cold when she fell into the water?

Did she realise what she had done to her daughter?

Sally could only hope that wherever lay their mum,

she could see what both her daughters had become.

The time drew nearer for Jane to meet her new friend,

closer still was her inevitable end.

With a draw of a blade, the two sisters became one.

Jane now lying comfortably with their mum.

For a very long time Sally had waited,

to be alone in the house, she claimed to have hated.

But wait … another body stirs.

The life of the little child will soon be hers.

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