Three Mile Drove Chapter Twenty (standard:horror, 1688 words) [21/29] show all parts
Author: Brian Cross	Added: Sep 23 2007	Views/Reads: 2552/1765	Part vote: 0.00 (0 votes)
A pop musician has inherited a smallholding in the English fens, and right now things are getting a little too hot for him to handle!

She was glad she was telling him, glad to be free of the burden that
held her down like an ankle stone to the water's bottom. That 
threatened to overwhelm her consciousness, merging it with the 
abnormality which torments the sleeping mind. 

Even though she shouldn't have done what she did, she was glad. But
confession to her crime was merely one stepping stone out of the murky 
waters that surrounded her. She'd been holding on to secrets for too 
long, but now, was the plain fact they threatened to engulf her very 
soul the reason for her divulgence? Was the fear of losing her sanity 
the one reason she was revealing what lay out on the fens, was it all 
just selfish concern for her own health, and had panic been the driving 
force behind what she was doing? 

Or was it selfishness in another form, that of being unable to live with
her own conscience, just like the villain in an old time movie, the 
kind who turned the blade upon himself because he could no longer live 
with his actions? Would she be driven into this very act herself if she 
didn't tell all? 

Would she do it anyway if insanity took over? 

But then, had there been another factor existing beside the evil, just
like the good knight alongside the bad? The one who might yet fling off 
his chain mail and dive into the waters to save her, to rescue her from 
the heavy waters that threatened right now to crush her mind. 

She'd agonised all afternoon, the much needed rest hadn't come, so heavy
was the burden upon her, but her mind was made up. She would tell all. 

Was she doing it for him, because of him, out of fear for him, or fear
for herself? 

Right now she didn't know, her thoughts just whirled around inside her
head faster and faster, just like the whirlpool that circled above her. 
She needed to see McPherson, to tell him all, that was the only thing 
she could do right now, she couldn't see beyond the next five minutes. 

*                                          * 

His car wasn't in his parking space. It should have served as an omen,
but she didn't even look for it. Her eyes were hazy as she made her way 
to the enquiry office, ringing robotically on the bell. 

She was dimly aware of the enquiry officer placing a phone call, then
more dimly aware of the woman returning, her face solemn, a mask of 
death. 

‘I'm sorry madam, Sergeant McPherson left the office a short time ago,
can I take a message?' 

Claire Summerby didn't know whether she'd made a reply. 

Chapter Twenty 

Even as Darren entered Three Mile Drove he sensed there was something
wrong, the smell of smoke wafted by the strong wind invaded his 
nostrils, clogging his throat and making it feel covered in tiny 
cinders. The grey sky was lightened by an orange glow to the west, and 
a plume of smoke billowed towards the heavens as though an unearthly 
tornado was about to unwind. 

He closed his window to escape the ashes that showered around him like
shrivelled leaves, and then passing old man Tomblin's place he saw the 
pensioner standing alongside his fence, he might have been a granite 
statue had his hands not been pressed to the railings as if he were 
absorbed by the spectacle. He seemed impervious to the hot ashes which 
swirled through the skies, and as Darren passed he turned in his 
direction, his wizened features creasing either into an ugly smile or 
grimace, he couldn't decide which. 

The air grew misty, its atmosphere contaminated by the thickening smoke,
and then through it he saw its source. Claire's former childhood home 
was now just a mixture of smoke and flame, amidst which debris was 
being flung high into the air, roasted by the heat and circulated by 


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