Short Stories

Molly's Tale

Before we begin with this entry, or is it a confession? You, the reader, will undoubtedly judge for yourself but know this 'I am a MONSTER'! Although not in the physical sense, I look as normal as any other stranger you may meet on the street. In my past, I was trying hard to leave behind me while living the unlikely identity of a vicar in a forgettable village in England. However, my actions and decisions have led me to be living the biggest of lies, safely under the shield of witness protection.

I honestly think I am, or at least was, making some reparations for the horror I caused by the filth me and my friends were peddling across Europe in the early days and by the time of my betrayal, the world. International drug dealing is not as complicated as you may think, reader, but the major drawback, especially for me, was that we only sold to suppliers. This caused me to be, blinded by money and luxury and not see the death and destruction of countless families worldwide. My conscience did not kick in until I went to Mexico and supervised a deal with Mendoza Cartel. Reader, you would never imagine the horror I witnessed while outside the resorts, addicts dead in the street, kids as young as four running around selling peso bags while clearly out of their tiny minds on crack.

This reader was my turning point in life. I was and still am wholly mortified, angry, sad, maybe even downright suicidal by what I had seen and caused by my greed and ignorance. The guilt tore and broke my heart apart, leaving a smaller vessel much like a flower stripped of its petals and only the receptacle to keep my body going. I had to make a change, no, not a change, a stand, so I did. I secretly contacted Interpol and arranged a deal to shut down our entire network. The plan had been simple. I gave them the time and location of our most oversized shipment to date; everyone would be there due to the importance of the deal going well. All Interpol and the various other police and crime agencies had to do was swoop in at the right time and keep a lid on it.

Things did not go well; only two of us had been captured, of the other two, one died in the firefight, and the other 'Mina' escaped. That was the moment that Sarah Paulson was sent to prison in France for a fleeting time before being moved every few weeks to different prisons across Europe for three years, permanently in solitary. These constant moves made it easier for my files to be "lost" in transit. I began learning and living my new identity as the Reverend Molly McKay, a fifty-four-year-old vicar, community pillar. I still find it ironic on so many levels that it blows me away to think about it now, but that was two years ago, and I was living contently in a small village seventy miles northeast of London, my only problem, insomnia, caused by the crushing guilt of my terrible choices leaving me, constantly feel like

I'm drowning in a pit of bloody despair, or the night terrors, with vivid nightmares of my old friends exacting brutal revenge on me and burning this whole village to the ground, including my beloved church, my own personal safe haven. 

 After assuming this identity, my only contact with the police was visits from my handler DC Jesse Rose, under the guise of my sister to my parishioners and other locals. These visits were three or four times a month. Her most recent visit brought with it an update about my "friends", now hunters baying for my blood like hounds hunting the Wiley fox or, in my case, the chameleon hiding in plain sight. I was just outside the church talking to some of my elderly parishioners when I noticed her walking through the old broken iron gates towards me with a look on her face that could pickle a potato. This usually wouldn't be unusual; she was a very strait-laced serious about everything kind of person. If I'm honest reader, I don't think she has ever cracked a smile since she was a child, and even then, I couldn't imagine it. This time was different; as she approached, she announced loudly, "I need to talk to you right now, Molly!". I was stunned, as were the two elderly women I was talking to; she would typically make small talk with anyone around me, so I knew that this must be bad, so I made an excuse for my 'sister' and arranged to visit them later in the day. Jesse had walked straight past us and into the church. I rushed in behind her, promptly finding her sitting on the step by the alter with a letter in her hand. She looked terrified, now whiter than the winter snow. I didn't get an opportunity to ask anything; she just blurted out tons of information about the letter. Much of it had to be repeated as her voice trembled like a terrible singer on one of those talent shows on Saturday night TV. The short and ugly recap of her near-hysterical speech was that my lawyer, friend, and most of all mentor, Jeremy Grieves, and his entire family had been found still shackled to their basement ceiling and had been brutally tortured to death. A letter with my old and new names on it had been nailed to Jeremy's head. Not quite sure how much time passed, but it felt like hours before either of us spoke, she at this point had handed me the letter, which I read over several times before saying anything, but we will get to that later, dear reader, you can read the letter for yourself below.

My dearest friend Sarah,

    Or is it Molly now? Four years have passed since your betrayal of us, your family, the only friends you have ever had, we had everything, the world at our feet, and you have the audacity to think that you could take that from us because of your fucking conscience? Well, friend, you may have got David killed, and Nigel sent to prison before running away to your new little life. You thought that you could give us all to the law. You have to know how hilarious that was to me. I saw how different you had become after Mexico, so I took some precautions just in case my gut feeling was right, and I was you did it, gave us to the cops, smart move, or was it? Not really, my friend, what you didn't know was that you actually did me a favour. With you three gone, I am the most powerful woman in the world, and I am sending every asset we have to bring you to me alive so I can strip the flesh from your bones and eat your treacherous heart. I know your name now, Molly McKay, and I have hired the infamous 'Ghost', legendary assassin to get you for me, so with your name, it won't be long till you are in my dungeon begging to die. My condolences for your lawyer (your mentor and saviour) and his innocent family, something else for your conscience to bear; I know you think I could have got this letter to you in a much easier way, just sent it straight to the cops for instance but as you know better than most, I like to send a message. When I send a message, it has to be spectacular, you know I love a show. Mentioning shows, I'll be rounding up every copper that ever helped you and hey fuck it all of their families as well so that you can watch me personally execute every pig-faced one of those rats in front of your very eyes before we even get to your excruciating death where my face will be the last image your eyes ever see. He is coming for you; he may already be in your life waiting for you to react to this very letter, watching, waiting, your time in this world is almost over, my friend, I hope you live in fear of my retribution, I guess it won't be long till we meet again, and I can ask you in person a few weeks before I watch your worthless life drain from your sad blue eyes. He is behind you.

Joking. Or am I? admit it you looked, didn't you? We will find out soon enough, Molly.

                        See you real soon,

                                                     Your oldest friend,

                                                                                    Mina.

  I didn't know what to say to Jesse; she looked terrified, but surprisingly to her, I wasn't. In all honesty, reader, I had been expecting this message for a while now, I knew Mina would hunt for me, and I was as prepared as I could be for any eventuality that may occur, but what neither Mina nor Jesse knew was that the terrifying assassin, the formidable and unknown 'Ghost' was not a ghost to me. I was one of only three people in the world who knew his true identity and reader; the other two were his mother and sister. To me, he would always be 'Colin Nesbitt', a regular kid from my hometown, truth be told, reader, he lived two doors down the road from me, and we have been friends since we were in the nursery together. Even now, as an adult, he still looks harmless, but after years in the paras and a decade in the SAS, he is the ultimate weapon, finder, fixer, and murderer of anyone for the right price. We hadn't clapped eyes on each other in five years, when I actually last acquired his services before passing contact to Mina for future hits, never thinking at the time that I would be on his radar as a target. So, reader in a strange irony, my hunters have recruited the love of my life to help them take mine; whatever was about to happen was going to be very interesting.

 When Jesse left to try and sort out some sort of extra protection, like there was any fit for purpose, I went straight to my office at the rear of the vestibule, locking the door behind me, then sat staring out this window in front of me now. After a slightly bewildered state for what seemed like forever, I took out this journal and started this entry. My life has been in turmoil for me recently, but it is not lost on me that I am fortunate to be getting a do-over in life, but it couldn't last for long, not with the enemies I have made. It seemed like fate that they sent Colin to retrieve me for them. God, I hope that love really conquers all. Was this the fortunes of fate pushing us together so we could finally connect, or was he going to do his job and deliver me to them? My fear of our love has caused me to reject his love on countless occasions. I just hope, pray even, that he still feels the same about me. I guess we will find out soon enough.

 A Laser light just flicked past the window, probably just kids. Still, I have to admit I'm a little scared now, going to head home ( once I finally decide which way to leave), hoping this is not the last entry in this journal, but if it is. Anyone who is reading this then know this reader, I was murdered on my way home. If I do die, I just hope that my couple of years as a vicar will help cover a lifetime of selfishness and villainy, but I doubt it. Hoping tomorrow's entry mocks today. Wish me luck.

A Revenge Haunting

End of Summer 1992.

The Bully

Most people have to deal with a bully at some point in their lives, and for my friends and me, he would change our lives forever. This particular bully was called Derek, and he has made our lives a nightmare for the past five years, but more so this summer. My maw says it's grief after his brother was killed in a fight in the Easter holidays. We couldn't feel sorry for him or his brother, they have been bullies since primary school, and it was some sort of karmic retribution to us. We found the summer holidays quickly ending and planned for a night out camping. So, we could all get drunk and high without dealing with the parental units and their hypocritical lectures.

Our hometown, Tillicoultry, is nestled at the Ochil hills' base just east of Stirling. This gave us lots to do as adolescents, exploring the hills and old ruins, swimming in the river or the reservoir. Rock climbing in the quarry, picking mushrooms in the Japanese gardens, typical kids' stuff before mobile phones and video games, took the masses' attention.

At around noon, the four of us would meet up at Jamie's house. The plan was simple; we would set up camp with tents and a fire in the bluebell woods behind the dry ski slope about a quarter way up the hill. Jamie's brother had gotten us a crate of beer and four jumbo bottles of white lightning cider for our weekend camping. Ozzy would be bringing fags, juice, and water. Laura would be bringing food and her ghetto blaster. I had to get the dope, which meant walking up to Johnny's, the only dealer who would sell to us. The only problem going into Johnny's apart from the psychotic vibe is that you can't just go in and get it like that; it was too suspicious. He liked you to stay for at least half an hour just in case the bizzies were watching his house, which wasn't uncommon. It had only been like the third time I had been to his house, and I was still very intimidated by him. he then got out a giant bong, insisted on me taking a few hits that got me so stoned,  my intimidation turned to paranoid panic. Thinking it couldn't get any worse, I tried to relax, only for him to bring out his pet twelve-foot python.

"So, do you wanna buy this snake? I will give you a good deal, kid. The wife wants it gone today!" inquired Johnny.

"No, I don't think my maw would be too happy about that, Johnny. Why does yer missus want it gone?" I asked, twitching awkwardly.

"Well, she woke up for the toilet in the night and went in to check on the kids, only to find the fucking snake wrapping itself around little John's legs. Clearly, the rats I feed it aren't enough." He giggled nervously.

"Well, Johnny, I better get off its almost party time, and I intend to get seriously fucked up this weekend. Before we are back at shitty school on Tuesday. I'll catch you in a bit." I said as I headed towards his front door with him roaring 'bye' behind me. When I opened the door, I came face to face with the pot marked, blemished, bum fluff bearded face of Derek. He looked me up and down, then barged me out of the way and walked into Johnny's. He wouldn't do shit here; whatever he did to me, Johnny would do worse to him for causing shit at his door. Realising I had a free path through the town without having to deal with a beating from Derek. I was off. I ran for as fast and long as my wobbly stoned legs would go to get a decent head start. Twenty minutes later, I was rounding the corner and walking into Jamie's garden to find no one there. Out of nowhere, a loud whistle screeches from the bottom of the ski slope. I saw the others with all the stuff lying on the grass waiting for me. As I headed towards them, they jumped over the fence into the field beside the slope and started a slow walk up as I followed behind.

At around four o'clock, we had the tents up, and a fire was roaring. The sun was still blazing through the trees, and we were set for the night. We drank, chatted, and laughed more than at any other time in our lives then or now. No one bothered us; we were lost in friendships warm embrace long into the night. It wasn't until the fire started dying down that the night changed.

Jamie and I wandered deeper into the woods to gather firewood. I don't know if you had ever tried to collect firewood while drunk? But, trust me, it's frustratingly tricky. Gravity seems to have different laws when you are drunk, which Jamie and I found much to each other's hilarity. A piercing scream broke the fun falling around the woods. Not a fun scream, a terrifying scream. Coming from the direction of our camp,' Laura', we both said in unison. The adrenaline had sobered us up a little, but the run through the woods was still a stumbling zigzag pattern at best. We burst into the clearing, tripped over the tent cords, and went head over heels to land hard on the ground, with Ozzy and Laura howling in laughter.

"What the hell was that scream? We thought something was wrong!" asked Jamie as he dragged himself up off the forest floor.

"Sorry, Ozzy was telling me the ghost story about the green hand." Said Laura scoffingly.

"How in the fuck did that shite Story scare you? It's bullshit. Total bullshit" sneered Jamie. Ozzy burst out laughing again and held his hand over the fire so we could see. He had painted his hand green.

"It's how you tell them, buddy. I just wish I had brought my dad's video camera cause that wis fuckin priceless." Replied Ozzy, still giggling away to himself. She nearly pissed her pants, and then you two pricks fall through the trees like a couple of gaybos.

"Wait a minute. That stupid Story about the pirate graveyard up the Harveston estate?" I asked. Ozzy nodded in answer, still chuckling away." Let's have a joint in the graveyard and tell scary stories."

The board.

"I have a better idea!" said Laura as she reached into her bag and pulled out a box about the size of a trivial pursuit game. "Let's play this while having a joint in the haunted graveyard."

"Laura, I like you, I really do, but there is no fucking way we are playing trivial pursuit tonight. That's gotta be the saddest thing you have ever, ever, I mean, really EVER you have said. EVER. Sorry."

"It's not trivial pursuit, you fucking moron; it's a Ouija board. Trivial pursuit. By far the densest thing you have ever fucking said. Honestly!" snapped Laura. There was a rustle coming through the silence of the woods; it sounded like a few people. Before any of us could speak another word, Derek and his two cousins, Mick, and Jimmy, emerged into the dancing light of the glowing embers.

"What up, you little rat fuckers? Having a party without inviting us? How very fucking rude of you!" said Derek as he picked up a flaming log from the fire and kicked me in the face, popping my nose; the blood splattered all over the tent I fell in, leaving me dazed and disorientated. He continued outside, "I'm going to burn this tent down with this little wanker inside if you lot don't hand over all your money and your drink. Anyone have a problem with that?" he screamed, brandishing the flaming log over the tent above me. The others quickly handed over the beer and cider, which was visible, and the few quid they had between them. As they took the stuff, Derek threw the flaming log into one of the empty tents, and they walked back into the woods heading back to town, laughing as they went.

"He will get his comeuppance eventually. Karma will get that motherfucker. God, I hate him so much." Laura said. "Let's not let that prick ruin our night any more than he already has".

"You said that was a Ouija board. Let's go summon the dead!" joked Ozzy as he jabbed me in the arm. After putting out the small fire in the tent, the others walked over to us, and we all started walking up to the pirate's graveyard. The walk only took fifteen minutes or so. We arrived at the old cemetery from the ancient county estate. Some grave markers were seven and eight hundred years old, but we were only interested in one tomb. A posh housing estate surrounded this tiny graveyard of only twelve graves surrounded by ten-foot-high hedges. It was a hidden piece of local history and scary legend of the green hand that local kids talked about since our grandparents were kids as we walked down the long hedge corridor, which always felt like a maze entrance. The warm night air seemed to vanish instantly, and a chill rolled over us all. The smell of the fir trees and the wildflowers had an intoxicating atmosphere that was calmingly seductive. The six-foot-high headstone's inscriptions were worn out to read, but the skull and crossbones carved were still visible. The grave lid was as large as the headstone. It was plain apart from an inscription and an intricately carved right handprint in its centre.

'Here Lies Alexander Dalzeel, 1662-1715'

We sat around the pirate grave, and Ozzy and I rolled some joints while the others went for a pee break. When they got back, Laura pulled out the square box.

"I got this fae ma grannie; it was hers since she was a wee lassie. She just said never to play it alone and always to close the session with a goodbye!" said Laura as she removed the board and the planchette and placed them over the hand indentation. "Okay, everybody, put both your pinkie fingers on the planchette thingy".

"On the what? What the fuck is that thing?" asked Jamie curiously.

"Do you really wanna know? Or are you just trying to be funny?" asked Laura.

"You got me. I wis trying to be funny but let's just get on with this". Replied Jamie while turning a bright shade of crimson. While we laughed at him, we all put our fingers on the planchette and waited. Out of nowhere came a brisk breeze above our heads which made us all giggle. I don't know about the others' feelings at the time. Still, I felt a buzz of energy in my hand, not electric but definitely powerful energy. I looked down, and to my surprise, the planchette was spinning around the board anti-clockwise. We all look at each other then back to the board. The planchette still spinning; we all are accusing and denying each other of pushing it. The wind stopped again, and a burning sensation radiated through our hands as the planchette stopped on 'Hello'. We all gazed at the board dumbstruck.

"H-Hello, are you really a pirate?" asked Ozzy nervously. We all laughed, trying to seem cool, but I was more freaked out than I would have ever admitted at the time. The planchette spun and landed on 'No'.

"Stupid fucking question", scoffed Jamie. "When will I die?" he roared.

"What the fuck, buddy? This is meant to be a laugh!" I said as the planchette spun rapidly around the board. It stopped on the '1' then 'W' then 'E', another 'E', the spinning was faster now and stopped, 'K', snap across the board to land on an 'S' before arriving in the centre of the board.

"One week! You are going to die in a week. Is this some sort of wind up?" asked Ozzy. The planchette shot across the board to 'Yes' then 'No' then 'Yes'. "This ghost is clearly fucking with you Jambo. I've got a better one. Can you help us get revenge on Derek McEwan, my wee ghostly mate?" said Ozzy loudly.

"Maybe this isn't a good idea! I'm getting a wee bit scared; this shite is just too freaky." Said Laura with a tremble in her voice as the planchette spun around to 'Yes' again.

"It's just a game, Laura. Let's just see where this goes. How can we hurt him most?" asked Ozzy. The planchette spun and answered in seven letters. 'BURN DEN'. We all gazed at each other, shocked, except for Ozzy; he was grinning like a madman.

"This is perfect. Burn, burn, burn. Let's go!". Said Ozzy as he jumped to his feet and headed out of the old graveyard.

We knew instantly what he was going to do. Derek had a wooden shed in his back garden where he smoked and drank with the older kids when we were at school. He loves that shed like it was a billionaire's mansion. We picked up all our stuff, threw it all in the bag and headed off after Ozzy for the three-mile walk across the town to get to his street.

The incident.

It was around midnight; the moon was full, the sky cloudless, the town bathed in still moonlight. We could be found in Derek's neighbours' garden sitting behind a short fence. Ozzy pulled out a small pot of lighter fluid he always kept on him for his Zippo lighter.

"You three stay here. I'll go light the fucker up; then we can bolt across the field and watch the drama from the old railway tracks at the other side. Okay?" asked Ozzy. We all nodded in silence. "I can't wait to see the expression on Derek's face when his pride and joy goes up in flames". Continued Ozzy as he jumped the wall and made his way across the garden like some sort of stealth assassin. Suddenly Laura became violently sick. I reached over to her, gently grabbed her hair and held it out of range of her projectile vomit.

"He isn't going to really do it. Is he?" She asked with a flash of fear in her eyes as soon as the vomit subsided.

"Not going to do it, Lozza, I have done it." Said Ozzy as he jumped over the wall, immediately slipping on Laura's vomit, falling hard to the ground. His head hit the wall with a nauseating crunch. It didn't stop us from laughing at him. He got up, covered in sick, rubbing the side of his head behind his ear, which had already swollen up to a huge lump.

"Jesus. That was really fucking sore. Let's get the fuck out of here. Before someone sees us here!" said Ozzy in a sleepy dazed way. Thinking back, he probably had a nasty concussion, but none of us knew or cared about such injuries at that age. We all ran straight across the field past a herd of sleeping cows to the small gully at the far end of the field about a quarter-mile from Derek's parents' house. We had laughed all the way across the field. Buzzing with ourselves that we had finally gotten one over on our bully. Our joy, I'm afraid, was short-lived and only lasted until we lay down and looked across the field to the blazing shed.

We hadn't known at the time that the neighbour on the other side of the semi-detached house had recently been robbed. This robbery had caused the owner to paint the tops of his walls and fences with black tar for added security. As we ran through the field, the shed went up like kindling and immediately spread to the tar, propagating like a fizzing fuse towards the houses. The fire encircled the garden wall. The flames were huge and lapped in the downstairs bay windows of both homes in minutes. To our horror, the windowsills of all the neighbours' windows ignited. He had tarred all the windows to stop intruders.

"What the fuck, Ozzy man? You were just supposed to light the shed—you absolute eejit. We have to get back and phone the fire brigade before someone dies. Jamie, you're the fastest. Run to the phone box and phone them, and we will try and wake them up before it's too late". I had screamed at them before sprinting back across the field. 'God, please let us make it in time. Please'. That was all I could think on the run towards the flames. The cows spooked by the fire were scattering and running towards us; this slowed us down so much it felt like some supernatural power was trying to stop us. And stop us, it did. By the time we got back up to the houses, it was too late. Both places were engulfed in flames from floor to roof. We couldn't hear anything but the constant roar of the fire like a thousand angry lions.

"The fire brigade is on the way. It's too late; there's nothing we can do. We better get out of here. I don't want to go to jail!" screamed Jamie as he ran past us. Immediately we all took off after him. We were leaving the wailing of sirens and bone tingling screams behind us.

 'What have we done?' the thought thundered around my brain like a jackhammer. I didn't know how the others were feeling, but I was terrified. The consequences, scary as they were, were nothing to the guilt at this point. The regret was already having a banquet on my soul.

The aftermath.

Within a few days, both Ozzy and Jamie had been arrested and charged with arson and four counts of manslaughter. As it had turned out, Derek's home was empty that night as he and his family were at a friend's barbeque. However, his neighbours, Mr and Mrs Graham, his mother, and their ten-year-old son Michael had died. Ozzy had dropped the lighter fluid pot in the field, which the police found in their search. His fingerprints were all over it. Jamie had been seen at the phone box by an old lady looking out her kitchen window while getting a drink of water at one o'clock in the morning. They had kept mine and Laura's names out of it during their interviews, saying they had left us at the graveyard after the Ouija board.

A few more days went by before we saw or heard anything from the police. It was early on the Sunday after the fire when the inevitable happened, and the knock came at the door. I lay on the end of my bed, trembling in fear, waiting for my maw to answer the door shouting me through to be quizzed by the coppers. Whatever happens, I told myself I was not going to jail, not for this. Not for anything. I could hear mumbled voices were coming from downstairs, followed by hysterical crying. 'Here we go', I thought to myself. The room suddenly became freezing. I could see my breath. I turned towards the window, thinking it was a draft. I froze; a young lad with curtained blonde hair wearing thunder cat's pyjamas was standing with his back to me. Scared and confused, I reached out to touch his shoulder. My hand never made it. He slowly turned, but before I could see his face, his pyjama's ignited, sending flames around the room. I jumped up, terrified. I ran to the door, grabbed the handle. A white-hot pain seared through my left hand, causing me to scream out and turn around to nothing. My bedroom was empty. I was alone. I must have had a vivid micro nap; that's what I told myself as I heard my mother call me downstairs.

"Son. Jamie's mum, Janet, is here. She is distraught. She needs to talk to you," said my mother, teary-eyed.

"Okay, mum", I said as I walked past her, down the stairs and into the living room to find Janet sobbing at the window. "Janet, are you okay? What's wrong?" I asked gently.

"Jamie and Neil are gone." She whispered.

"What do you mean they are gone? How can they be gone?" I asked her in a confused tone.

"There was a fire in their wing of the young offenders' unit last night. They both died of smoke inhalation. I wanted you to hear it from me. I know how close you all were. I, I eh". She said before breaking down; I reached out to stop her from falling to the floor and hugged her tight as she sobbed on my shoulder. The tears streamed down my face, I gazed out the window, trying to remember my friends, but all I could see in the reflection was the young boy standing behind us, smoke flowing from his mouth. I held Janet tighter and closed my eyes. We sobbed together for what seemed like hours, but in reality, it was only about half an hour. When she said she had to be with her family, I reluctantly released her from our hug, opened my eyes. He was gone. I walked Janet to the door to see her out. Upon opening the door and saying our goodbyes, the breeze caught my left hand, and the pain shot through it like electrocution. I looked at my hand, and it was burned so badly, my fingerprints were gone. I ran into the kitchen and held my hand under the cold running water. The pain was beyond anything I had ever experienced to that point—boom, boom. 'Here we go', I thought. This one is going to be the coppers for sure. Shutting off the tap, I walked to the door and nervously opened it.

"Have you heard about the others?". Screeched Laura as she burst into the hall, terrified.

"Aye. Janet was just here. Did Ozzy's maw come to yours?" I asked.

"Aye, she wis a mess. I can't believe they're gone! What the fuck are we gonna dae noo?" she asked.

"If anybody asks, we weren't even there; we were drunk in the tent. Okay?" I gazed into her eyes. "it's gonna be all right; you go hame and ill pop over to yours in a bit." She nodded, and we hugged. Bang, bang, bang went the door. We both jumped. I reached forwards and opened the door to come face to face with two coppers.

"Is your father in, son?" asked the taller of the coppers.

"No, he's at work. My maws in, or I can take a message?" I asked, shitting myself.

"Yes. Tell him we have recovered the fishing gear stolen from his shed. It is being used as evidence. He will be able to collect it after the offender has been to court. If you could tell him that wee man, that would be smashing. Thanks for your time. Bye now." said the copper before the two walked back up the path to their car. I closed the door and turned to Laura. She was gone. In her place, a burning wheelchair. I turned to run out the door.

"Where are you going?" asked Laura. Confused, I  had turned around to see her looking at me like I was mad. "So, where are you going?"

"Didn't you see that?" I asked in a panting, terrified tone.

"See what? You talking to the coppers?" she said, increasingly confused.

"The fucking burning Wheelchair", I screamed.

"When did you last get some sleep? You are clearly seeing things mate. There was no burning wheelchair. you just looked at me with a terrified look on your face, then tried to bolt." She said, looking increasingly concerned, maybe even a little scared at this point. I know I was genuinely frightened. I Still am.

"Nothing, forget I said anything. You're right: I really haven't slept much since this shit happened. You go back to yours, and I'll come over after I have a couple of hours of sleep". We exchanged a hug, and Laura left. I went upstairs to my room and collapsed on my bed. I huddled in the foetal position and cried myself to sleep.

I slept the whole night through, dreamt about that night and about burning to death. I awoke the following day, drenched in sweat. I jumped out of the double bed and went for a shower. I stayed in the shower for a good half hour, trying to wash my guilt away. As good as my shower is, it sure as shite didn't help. I got out, dried and dressed, and headed downstairs for breakfast before going over to Laura's. We could discuss our next step in this chaotic situation. I  had walked into the living room and found a man in a cheap brown suit and the tall copper from yesterday sitting on the couch. Thinking it must be about my dad's fishing gear, I nodded to them, acknowledging their presence, then went to walk back out of the room to the kitchen.

"Son. We need to talk to you about your friends. Can you take a seat?" asked the suit in a stern, no-nonsense tone. I sat down reluctantly on the chair opposite them.

"What about my friends? You know two of them died the other day?" I spoke confidently, almost cockily, thinking back it was probably too cocky for the situation.

"Terrible, just terrible. A tragic accident. I am really sorry for your loss," said the uniformed officer.

"shouldn't I have a lawyer or one of my parents with me?" I continued cockily.

"Your mother has given her permission to speak to you alone; this is about your friend Laura. My colleague here says he saw you together yesterday afternoon. Is that correct?" asked the suit.

"Yeah. Obviously. He saw us. We were talking about our friends' deaths. She left about five minutes after he did". I pointed at the uniformed officer. "Then I went to my room, lay on my bed and cried myself to sleep. I woke up an hour ago, had a shower, got changed, then found you two in my living room. Ask ma maw if you don't believe me." I snipped at them.

"All right, young man settle down. There isn't any need for the attitude. We have actually come here with some more bad news for you, I'm afraid". He said, his words had dripped with pity. "It really does pain me to tell you this, but your friend Laura was found dead late last night of an apparent suicide. I'm sorry, son, do you want your mum to come in?" asked the man in the suit.

"No. I'm all right", I lied. He was there, the boy, watching me through the window, Michael. His face is chalk white. "How did she die? How did she kill herself?" I asked, barely getting the words past the lump in my throat.

He gazed at me, clearly weighing up the options of telling me. "In her dads' car in the garage with a hose from the exhaust to the window. She started the car, rolled up in the foetal position and went to sleep. Her mother found her at about one o'clock. We have been there since it was called in to dispatch. Laura's mother asked us to inform you before we went off shift, she wanted to come herself, but she is in a terrible state. I can see you are in shock, son. We will leave you to your grief, and again I'm so sorry for your loss", said the suit. When they had gotten up to leave, both squeezed my shoulder as they passed, the closest a copper could get to hug you. The boy was gone again, but I could feel him just behind me, stalking my every move waiting for his opportunity to get me, his ghostly revenge. Revenge, a word I found I could no longer say aloud; it stuck in my mouth in an eternal stutter.

What followed.

I didn't see the young lad again for a while, but I felt him. He was always just over my shoulder, constantly breathing down my neck, my blood rushing with icy fear. It had been a month after I had buried my friends before I got any space from anyone. I was on constant suicide watch after what happened to Laura and the others. They were afraid I would break and follow them into the vail of shadows. The truth is I'm broken. I only ever got two types of looks from anyone (then or now), pity or fear. The Story around the school was that I set the shed fire, then burned down the young offenders' unit, murdered Laura, and staged it as a suicide. Fucking kids and their Chinese whispers.

In honesty, I was and still am suicidal—the guilt tears at me every day like being torn apart by crocodiles. I would do whatever I could to be with my friends. I want to be dead with my friends. I am a social pariah, barely getting a look, let alone a conversation. I've stopped trying after eight suicide attempts; he won't let me die! He haunts my every move; it feels like the movie' Final Destination' in reverse. A hidden force was stopping me from dying.

I had tried slashing my wrists four times. Every time I sliced, the blade would snap. On the fourth attempt, I tried stabbing myself in the throat, the blade shattered. In the mirror, he watched me shaking his head, wagging his smoky finger back and forth. I tried hanging next, but the rope snapped. I survived again. Every mirror or window which cast a reflection, he was there watching, waiting, holding me in my guilt-ridden torture. Unable to live with what I have done but unable to end this nightmare. I guess that is probably the point. I tried high jumps next. The quarry seemed like the perfect option, almost a thousand feet tall, and there was no way of surviving, which was probably why it's a popular suicide spot. Up I walked to the top. No hesitation, I closed my eyes and jumped. Felt the air rush around me faster and faster, then nothing.

I opened my eyes; I was standing at the bottom of the quarry. Whispers surround and penetrate me from all directions. The disorientation was chilling.

Revenge. Revenge.

Revenge, the whispers hissed. I ran, not for my life but my sanity; my very soul was under attack for what I had done, and rightly so you may think, but to me, it felt unjust. It wasn't like I actually started the fire, but I was followed by its curse forever.

That was then, and this is now, twenty years later. The burn on my hand still seething in agony, a constant burning reminder of my curse. The burning wheelchair; my prison. My guilt, absolute. Every mirror contains them all now, watching, waiting, stuck in a purgatorial loop of revenge. The boy 'Michael.' I see walking everywhere. Everywhere I cannot.

Broken, burnt and suffering!

Will this rightful torment ever end?

The Adventures of Agent Sophie & The Ministry of Intelligent Babies.

Contrary to widespread belief, spies are not recruited and trained as you see in the movies. Spies are born! Most babies are born with a high IQ which steadily drops throughout adolescence before setting to an adult IQ in their late teens. Spies are born with a super high IQ in the three hundred', giving them the ability to learn faster than average babies by a factor of three, which helps in their ability to maintain a secret life, saving the world. When a spy is born, they are always placed with families with the strongest bonds of love and respect. Only the spies raised with excellent moral values become agents for the world's good. Love is such a positive emotion and the only one possible to teach an agent about fear, this is because only fear for one's family can lead an agent the importance of the ordinary people and that their safety and that of all is why they fight the good fight against humanities greatest and most secret of enemies, 'the evil Girl Scouts Empire' and their plans for world domination. One of these spies was at this time, sleeping happily in her cot.

BEEP, BEEP, BEEP.

Sophie opened her eyes, instantly alert, the familiar pink wallpaper with flying unicorns and fairy-tale castles. Rolling over, she waves at the smart hub in her bedroom, which connects to the ministry of baby intelligence and her boss, 'MOM'. Malcolm Ornathold Martins is a pompous baby with a Sherlock Holmes look and wore the most old-fashioned suits. With his usual expression of constipated stress and his monotonous tone, he spoke, "Agent Sophie, is it safe to speak? We have a crisis.". Getting to her feet, she leant against the bars of her cot with her chest and flatted down her frizzy short blond hair, she replied in a hushed tone, "yes MOM, but best make it quick I can already hear the parental units debating which one gets another half hour in bed and which is on nappy and breakfast duty." MOM acknowledged with a raised eyebrow," Agent Chloe has vanished while investigating unusual activity in the northeast of England, information is still coming in so a full briefing in my office, one hour. Agent Sophie, please don't doddle, we need to act fast on this, MOM out". The screen went back to black just as she heard her dad coming down the hall, who had once again lost the debate. Her door opened she started bouncing in her cot, laughing, and babbling away to him in a way that only simple-minded adults would appreciate.

            Twenty minutes later, agent Sophie was in her high chair eating a banana with one hand and with the other, keeping up the baby stereotype by using her spoon as a catapult to dispatch her unwanted cereal onto her dads back as he fed the cat 'Alvin', who was watching her in a disapproving manner, shaking his head at her. Sophie was not overly keen on Alvin; she knew that 'MOM' had sent him in to keep an eye on her at home and monitor her double when she was on a mission. Adults and their tribal languages have all lost the natural language 'Baby Babble', which humans understand until about age three when their parents' language takes over communication but is universally understood by animals who are often partnered up with young spies. This was a slight problem for Sophie as Alvin always complained about something, and she continually told him to get over it. This had not gone unnoticed by her mum, who thought this was so cute that she had begun to try and make Tiktok videos of them both, which could be disastrous and super embarrassing. Just then, Sophie's mum walked into the kitchen and burst out laughing at the mess Sophie had made of her dad," oh my god, look at the state you have got your dad in." laughed her mum, who picked her out of the high chair and said," Sophie, as intelligent as you are that is really naughty go and play in the living room with Alvin while I get you're your things sorted, then I'll take you to the nursery." After hugging both of them, she toddled into the front room, still the sound of her mum laughing behind her, thinking to herself," If they knew how clever I was, it would blow their tiny minds into a dumbstruck daze for about a week, the poor clueless fools." When she walked into the front room, she saw Alvin standing in front of her princess tent, "MOM says you are to get a move on. Things are not looking good!" said the small black cat, as she walked straight past him into the tent with a roll of her electric blue eyes. A second later, she walked out from another tent at the Ministry of Intelligent Babies in London, hidden beneath MI6 headquarters. There she came Face to Face with herself, well almost it was her distraction double, "just the person I wanted to see! What's with all the drama? Tantrums? Huffy fits? That is not me. I am a happy baby. There's no point in you being my double if you aren't going to act like me. Don't you think I would rather be going to the nursery to be waited on hand and foot? But no, that's what you'll be doing! Sort it out." Said Sophie. Her double just rolled her eyes, walking past her into the princess tent portal.

Sophie stormed through several large offices on her way to Mom's office, thinking to herself,

"Well, at least she got the eye roll right." Finally reaching his office, she toddled straight in and sat down in the chair opposite MOM.

   "Agent Sophie, perfect timing. I just received the latest intel, and it is troubling, very troubling." He said as the screen behind him suddenly came to life with the image of a girl around five years old. Odd-looking, not in a wrong way, more a tiny adult way, a rich one clearly in clothes that would cost Sophie's parents six months wages for one outfit. Long wavy dark red hair with hints of blonde, which gave it a natural flame look. Still, it wasn't that which made Sophie think she was odd-looking. It was her eyes. They didn't look like the eyes of a child. They had a look of wisdom, strength, and an eternal depth which you usually only find in the elderly. MOM pointed at the screen" This is Scarlett Rockafellar, the secret head of the Girl Scouts Empire. She is personally overseeing the first distribution of a new type of cookie. They are currently making thousands of them in a school in Sunderland" Sophie cut him off mid-sentence", Sunderland. That can't be a coincidence, which school?" he turned to face the screen as the image changed to a brand-new school which she recognised instantly as the new Academy less than a hundred metres from her own house. As he began to speak again, Sophie was already formulating a plan to infiltrate the building in her mind." Agent Chloe sent us this image and a short message before vanishing that was five hours ago! The message only said, 'free distribution tomorrow', as you can imagine, we have become increasingly concerned about Agent Chloe. Locating her is your top priority in the mission. Still, we also require you to obtain the recipe for this new cookie, find out what it does and what they are planning to do with it. If you cannot acquire the recipe, try and get a sample, and the Baby Tech team will attempt to reverse engineer the recipe. At the same time, on baby tech, they have some new equipment for this mission that may come in handy. Any questions, agent Sophie?" she shook her head in reply. He continued," well, you better get a move on the closest tent portal to the school is your home one, so be careful not to get spotted by your parents, and for babies, sake do not let Agent Ruby hold you up in Baby Tech, we need to act quickly on this." Sophie was already out of her seat and halfway to the door when he finished talking, eager to get to Ruby to see what new gadgets she had for the mission. She walked through the reinforced doors into Baby Tech two minutes later to find the place entirely empty except for a small desk and chair on her right-hand side. Ruby was sat listening to Mozart through headphones, oblivious to Sophie and was conducting her imaginary orchestra. Sophie pulled out Ruby's headphones and said," as hilarious as that was, MOM says you have some new kit for me? On another note, where is everything? It's ordinarily full to breaking point in here?" Ruby's eyes lit up when she saw Sophie, "oh this, strange, isn't it! I never realised how big it was in here until they emptied it. MOM finally caved and gave me the whole new third sub-level, so everything is down there now except this." On the desk was a small pink backpack with unicorn horns and wings. Ruby opened the bag and removed the contents. A smart comms watch, a pack of dummies and a water pistol that looked like it was filled with milk. Sophie looked at her suspiciously with a single raised eyebrow which made Ruby giggle before saying, "let me explain before you judge it's the latest gear" she picked up the smartwatch, "this new watch has updated comms, can hack electronic locks and cameras on Wi-Fi." She reached over and attached it to sophies wrist, then picked up the silly looking water gun, "this is the silent night milk pistol. It has an effective range of twenty metres. Anyone who comes in contact with a single drop will collapse into the happiest four-hour dream they have ever had." Sophie looked impressed now. Ruby placed the pistol in the bag and picked up the pack of dummies with a borderline smug look about her," you are going to love these! Obviously, they look like an average pack of dummies. As you guessed by now, they are anything but, first the red one, use it in emergencies only! It will lock on to your GPS signal, and a princess tent portal will be sent to your location. This yellow one is the latest thing, a cloaking device, but it is still in the testing phase and only works for a few minutes at a time. A few minutes could be anything from two to seven minutes, now this is my personal favourite the pink dummy, is a crying baby grenade, chew on this for three seconds and throw for the ultimate in distraction and disablement." Looking increasing proud of herself, she continued, "when this baby goes off, it sends out a cloud of baby powder and the wailing screech of one hundred colicky screaming babies which will cripple everyone in a range of about two hundred metres, your watch has a sensor in which makes you immune from its effects." Placing them in the pink unicorn bag, she zipped it up and handed it to Sophie," you are good to go, stay safe Agent Sophie." To wrap up in planning her mission, she smiled and gave a mumbled thank you that any teenager would be proud of before walking back through the various offices on the way to the princess tent hall of transport. She acknowledged several workers who spoke to her on her way out with no more than a rushed hello, goodbye or a basic wave. Ten minutes later, she was looking into the familiar view of the princess tent, feeling slightly apprehensive as this would be the first time her mission was so close to home that exposure to the Ministry of Intelligent Babies was entirely possible, especially with her family and body double still at home with it being so early, but this was too important she had to find Agent Chloe no matter what.

Closing her eyes, she stepped into the portal tent and out the other side into her living room.

            Immediately Sophie came Face to Face with her dad, who was watching the news; he had a confused look on his face," Hey gorgeous, I thought you were in the garden with your mum.?" She babbled an answer to him which he responded to with a laugh, and went back to watching the news as Sophie headed towards the kitchen. Alvin was watching her from the kitchen windowsill, "hide, they are on the way back in!" he said, while jumping down to the floor and ran to the back door to slow them down a little and give Sophie time to hide, which she used to jump into her parents' office just off the backdoor. Once her mum and the other

Sophie had gone into the kitchen. She filled Alvin in on her mission. They both headed out through the garden and under the fence into the adjacent gardens. After a close call with the elderly gentleman who lived behind her house, they were out the front yard and looking over the brand-new state of the art school that actually looked pretty out of place for the area. The new building did not suit the three-metre-high barbed wire fences around it, cameras everywhere and a security gate which would be more at home in a private school. She turned to Alvin, "that is an awful lot of security for a school, Alvin this recipe must be something extra special for them to go to so much trouble protecting it. I'll use my cloaking dummy to slip in the front gate. You head around the back and look for a way to slip into the building. I'll meet you at the far side next to the nursery playground." They split up, Sophie heading left towards the gate, and Alvin went right, climbed the first tree, and jumped over the fence, vanishing from sight in seconds. Sophie snuck towards the gate like a stealth assassin to get as close as possible before using the cloaking dummy. Managing to get to the gate unseen, she popped the yellow dummy into her mouth and immediately vanished. She could not even see herself.

Rolling under the gate, she got quickly to her feet. She toddled as fast as she could to the edge of the building, only just making it behind a bin next to the main entrance before the dummy ran out of juice. Looking at the smartwatch on her wrist, she pressed a couple of buttons. Moments later, the cameras all stopped transmitting, giving her about five minutes to meet Alvin and get into the building. Three minutes later, they were both next to the service entrance waiting for sophies watch to hack the door, which took about thirty seconds. ?It was the longest half-minute in both their lives, practically sitting waiting to be discovered. Moments later, the door beeped, and the keypad glowed green, pushing the door open and walking into an empty corridor, a loud clicking noise behind them as the magnets locked the door in place again.

            They both looked at each other, confused, both wondering where the guards were when suddenly speakers in the ceiling gave a distorted screech before a woman's voice echoed through the hallway, "Ah, Agent Sophie, you have finally arrived we have been waiting on you for some time now", the voice let out a maniacal laugh before continuing," just head in the door in front of you. We are just on the other side". The laugh continued for a few seconds before the screech of the announcement ended. Sophie pulled out the red dummy and gave it to Alvin and said, "well, this is clearly a trap, you slip in behind me and hide somewhere you have a good view of me, then wait for my signal and chew the dummy for three seconds." He gazed at her lovingly, clearly over the moon to be involved in such a dangerous mission. She continued, "twenty seconds after that, reveal your hiding spot to me, and that will give me just enough time to get in the emergency princess tent portal to take us back to the office. Sound good?" Alvin nodded his head and then headed towards the door that swung open when they got within five metres of it. Walking into what was supposed to be a sports hall, the sight in front of her took her by surprise. The hall was jam-packed with industrial baking machinery. A dozen adults baked the new cookies on a massive scale. At the back of the hall was a tiny red-headed woman shouting instructions to them to move faster and work harder. The woman's voice was the person on the other end of the speakers, but as she turned to look at Sophie, she was instantly recognisable as the five-year-old head of the girl scout's empire, Scarlett Rockafellar. They both started walking towards each other, sizing each other up increasingly with each step before coming to a stop two metres from each other. Scarlett smiled at Sophie the spoke in the strange old lady voice that was so prominent about her, "you know one day I'll make the whole world stay this far apart from one another, and I think we will call it social distancing." Giving out another maniacal laugh, "but that's a plan for another day, Agent Sophie. You are here about my cookie recipe, and for your missing friend, let's chat about that, shall we?" Sophie looked the five-year-old up and down, then let out a small laugh as she spoke, "first things first, what's with the crazy voice? You sound like a seventy-year-old woman?" laughing again, Scarlett

answered, "you aren't far off child, only about thirty years." Sophie was confused but didn't let her face show it. She just let Scarlett continue talking, "I will be on my next birthday one hundred and five years old. I know you are wondering how that is possible? I'll tell you just like I did agent Chloe because, like her, you cannot possibly escape from this facility alone, she sure couldn't." Another crazy giggle. She spoke again, "the answer to that question is the very reason you are here, Sophie, these cookies absorb a small amount of adult life force which we collect. I used to stay five years old forever. This has been going on since your parents' grandparents were kids. You can't stop it. No one can! This new and improved recipe absorbs more but has been tweaked to give me a five-year-old voice again. Collecting from one city gives me enough life force for ten years, so these operations are rare. I only placed this one here as I have wanted to meet you for some time now." All the time Scarlett had been talking, Sophie had subtly removed her silent night pistol and crying baby grenade from the hidden zip in the bottom of her bag. "So as interesting as all that is, what have you done with Chloe? "said Sophie angrily. "Right, this very second she is standing behind you with a silent night pistol to your head!" replied Scarlett as Chloe spoke from behind Sophie. "Don't move, Sophie, and don't judge me either. Treachery is a small price to pay for living forever, don't you think?" Chloe took Sophie's pistol with her free hand but didn't notice the dummy in her hand. At the same time, Sophie noticed Scarlett's recipe book on the table behind her; raising her now free hand, she tugged lightly on her left ear to signal Alvin. Suddenly without warning, Sophie dropped down, swinging her foot behind her; she knocked Chloe to the floor while at the same time activating the crying grenade in her mouth and throwing it towards Scarlett. Alvin popped up to the left of the desk just as Scarlett let out another crazy laugh, "a dummy, really, what is this going to do?" Just then, a huge plume of baby powder engulfed the room. The ear-splitting whine of one hundred colicky babies erupted around the hall debilitating everyone in the room. Sophie crawled under a cloud of powder up to the table and grabbed the recipe book just in time to hear Alvin shout," NOW". The princess tent portal appeared next to him as she heard Scarlett Rockafellar scream behind her, "DON'T

LET THEM GET AWAY!". Her words followed Sophie and Alvin as they jumped into the tent, landing on the hard marble floor of the ministry floor. Alvin got to his feet and said, "We make a pretty good team, and to think you didn't like me." She looked at the little black cat and said," I still don't like you, but yeah, we do make a pretty good team which is a good thing because this mission is far from over." 

Murder By Accident
A Lockdown Story

I want to tell you a story that begins with the lockdown on 23rd March 2020. About a family who, for all intents and purposes,  were perfect. Eddy and Alice McVay and their Irish twins Johnny and Jimmy, both twenty-five, had lived next door since before I moved to the neighbourhood. Eddy and his wife were both forty-five and had been high school sweethearts; both ran their own businesses in the local high street. Alice ran a salon and eddy a busy sandwich shop. The boys worked in the local Asda while studying for computer science degrees at the local university.

Like I said before, perfect, but then came the lockdown. The boys busy with university deadlines and still working saw little difference in their lives that first week. On the other hand, their parents found that they, being constantly busy until now, had caused them to be like passing ships in the night, enough stories about their respective days to fill the time they had alone. Still, now after only a few days, they found out to their peril that they no longer knew each other, or for that matter themselves. The silence in the house was deafening. Neither had anything to say that didn't set the other's blood on fire which set the long dreadful quite alive with profanity-filled rants from both at all times of the day or night. But always when the boys were at work, always giving the boys the semblance of the perfect marriage.

Sirens aren't unusual in this area, but when an ambulance and two police vehicles pull up outside your house, you can't really help but be a curtain twitcher for a moment. How else would you find out what on earth is going on before realising you are going to have to be brazen and go out for a convenient smoke break to get a better view of the proceeding drama.  My timing couldn't have been better as Eddy was being led away in handcuffs screaming, "I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry", before being driven away in one of the police vans. Moments later, the paramedics brought out Alice on a seated stretcher; her face was wrapped in a bloody towel, the image was horrifying, not because of Alice and that was bad; the paramedics had on complete personal protective equipment on making the scene seem like our world had suddenly become a horror movie the scary thing was it had already become that for poor Alice. Not long after, the ambulance had left for the hospital, and I had gone inside to make coffee, and there was a knock at the door. Opening the door, I found a police officer at the door who promptly explained he was there to ask if we had seen or heard anything. I told him we hadn't, not wanting to get involved in their personal lives. The officer surprised me by passing me a note from Alice before leaving in the last remaining police car.

I opened the note. If you see the boys, please tell them it was an accident and not worry. Thanks, Alice. It was a couple of hours before the inevitable knock at the door from the twins who didn't buy the accident one bit, in all honesty. Alice came home ten days later with what turned out to be a broken jaw which she had to have metal pins inserted in surgery to reattach her lower jaw. I was surprised she was released from the hospital so quickly. Still, according to the doctors, she was safer at home for her recovery. The reality was that they needed the beds as the Coronavirus was a massive toll on resources. The next couple of weeks went by calmly for Alice and the boys with no sign of Eddy. His bail prohibited him from contacting Alice and staying in a dingy little flat above his sandwich shop, typically used for storage. One night in the middle of April, everyone was out in the street for the nightly clap for carers at eight o'clock when Eddy made his loud return to the street with a drunken tirade of conspiracy theories about the virus and the lockdown.

Eddy stopped at my gate drunkenly, looking me up and down before opening his mouth, belched loudly, then asked me aggressively, "You. How can you? Of all fucking people who believe in aliens and fucking climate change and all sorts of other bullshit, he does not believe that this is all about control. C. O. N. T. R. O. L. the bloody government just wants to control us aw like that snow bastard in the fucking hunger games. Authoritarian craziness". He paused to take a breath, so I jumped in," Look, Eddy, I like you, buddy. I'd love to shoot the breeze about all the crazy conspiracy theories about this virus, but that's a conversation to be had sober. Don't you think?". He looked me up and down again, nodded, and walked towards his house. He didn't get to the gate before the police van appeared. Furthermore, Eddy was arrested for breaching his bail conditions but this time in full view of his sons, who were absolutely devastated to see their father in such a state and its effect on their mother, whom they had been hiding in the bathroom since she saw Eddy coming down the road. Alice was in such a state of terror for the next few days. The boys thought she might end up having a heart attack from frightening herself to death with every noise or movement in her vicinity. It was a tragedy for this woman's self-confidence and sense of worth; she had always been so solid.

Over the next couple of weeks, we saw more and more of Alice and the boys, which was good for everyone to have a face to talk to rather than a screen, coffee, or beer, okay mostly beer, across the wall as the weather had been glorious for weeks. So, as it turns out, Eddy has been handy with his fists when he gets drunk regularly over the years, this was a surprise to us, but you never really know what goes on behind closed doors. The boys had differing opinions on the subject. Like us, Jimmy didn't want to get involved in their relationship but was upset about his mum's face, which Johnny was. I say upset, but in reality, Johnny saw his dad hit Alice years ago and vowed terrible vengeance if it happened again. Hence, he was livid in a demonic sense making me glad we were friendly and a mental note to not get on his wrong side.

Everything seemed fine until 10th May. Eddy, the COVID disbeliever, was admitted to hospital with, yes, you guessed it, Coronavirus. Luckily for him, he only had minor symptoms. However, this caused Eddy, after only three days, to vanish from the hospital while still highly contagious, making his way back home to reason with his wife while sober. Eddy watched the house for an hour or so until he saw both his sons leaving for work before slipping down the road unseen like a stealth assassin it's a good thing it was unseen as he looked like a complete lunatic hiding under cars, behind bushes and belly crawling under windows. Reaching his house, he lets himself in with his key, only to be caught by the chain. Alice pops up face to face with her husband with a renewed sense of strength looks him straight in the eye, only a couple of feet between them, she says,

"If you don't want to get arrested again, you better leave. I have nothing to say to you, and anything I do in the future will be through my lawyer. Got it?" giving a slight wobble of her head.

"Are you fucking kidding me, you stupid fucking bitch. I walked out of that bloody hospital and waited for those two fucking morons to go to work for you to tell me this shite, REALLY? What the fuck is happening to the world". Replied Eddy.

"Wait, you really have been in the bloody hospital with coronavirus?" asked Alice, shocked gasp.

"Yeah, I fucking have, and if you want a divorce, then I guess you will want half of fucking everything. Well, you can have it. EVEN FUCKING CORONAVIRUS!" promptly spitting in her face before running off in a rage, attempting to jump the garden wall, totally misjudged it, clipping the top, falling sideways smashing his head off the lamppost then off the wall and the pavement, knocking himself cleanout in a pool of blood. This moment I must admit I witnessed fully, and I am not proud of this. Still, it's a good job. Alice had already phoned the police, and they arrived to help him because I was rolling about the floor laughing so hard, I thought I might pass out. It still tickles me now just thinking about it. Alice, I found out later, hadn't witnessed Eddy's epic karma-tic fall as she had been trying to disinfect her face with hand sanitiser getting so much in her eyes, she looked like she had been stung by a jellyfish. She really can't get a break at the minute. When Johnny and Jimmy got home from work, the whole street could hear them screaming about burning their dads' shop to the ground with him in it. The lads were upset and clearly wasted on the drink. But then calm.

Alice woke up symptomatic, dry cough, fever, exhaustion, and no sense of taste or smell a few days later. She was admitted straight into the hospital. Her sons were distraught over the next few days, but signs looked positive for a quick recovery. Unknown to anyone, Alice had a blood clot in her jaw, which had become infected due to her weakened immune system. She had only been on the phone to Jimmy an hour before looking the perkiest she had in days when Johnny Received the call from the hospital telling them that Alice had been rushed to the critical care unit and was being placed on a ventilator as soon as one became available. It was heart-breaking watching these young men break down, unable to even visit their mother because of COVID-19 restrictions. They were self-isolating as they had direct contact with their mother in the days following Eddy's assault. Alice was on the ventilator three days before her body gave up on her mind, and she slipped away in an extended beep. Alone. Trapped. Together but utterly alone with nothing but rage and revenge. Their father had done this. He had murdered their mum, intentionally infecting her, spitting in her face knowing he was contagious; it was and still is utterly mindboggling at what was going through his head.

The following day I was in the garden lying chilling in the pool, intending to get some quiet time to catch up with some reading. Quiet time I got, reading I did not as the lads were sitting in their garden out of sight getting drunk and discussing at great length how they were going to murder their dad for killing their mother, and I couldn't help but listen.

"I've got a great one. I remember it from a story I read in school, we go and buy a frozen leg of lamb, then smash the bastard all over with it, then we cook it and eat it, disposing of the evidence." Said Johnny as jimmy giggled next to him.

"Okay, if we are going to be ridiculous, then we could get one of those giant icicles to stab the old twat to death then piss on the icicle to get rid of the evidence." Replied Jimmy, sounding smug.

"Why piss on it to melt it?" asked Johnny.

"Why no, bro?" replied Jimmy.

"Fair point, bro, so let's think of less stupid ways

. I don't really want to end up doing' time; it has to be flawless, Jimmy. Absolutely flawless", said johnny in a distinctly sinister tone. There was silence. It seemed like forever. Then Jimmy piped up excitedly.

"Okay, I have got a few here, so bear with me, bro. one we get him wasted like really wasted, then put him in the bath and slash his wrists, making it look like a suicide". Johnny shook his head and replied, "there's no way that we get away with that, bro; the cops would catch us out with the blood. It would go everywhere. So, what's your next one?" he asked, smirking.

"Fine. Instead of slashing his wrists, we put the old cunt in boot of his car and drive the fucker into the reservoir. Or drive a few hundred miles and bury him in some woods". Said Jimmy.

"I've watched enough CSI to know that all that leads to jail time. We are going to have to be more subtle. We could take him on holiday, the crazy twat has always wanted to run with the bulls in Sevilla, we could go, and he could just end up trampled to death by the bulls after a subtle shove or trip, what do you think?" asked Johnny.

"I think there's a bloody worldwide pandemic happening. I can't see that happening any time soon, and to be honest, I want the heller dead now, not in two years when that Bull run death could be a reality. An awesome idea if we have to end up playing the long game, bro", answered Jimmy. This was as much as he heard as everyone's attention was taken by the sound of sirens coming from the main road.

There was no knock at my door, so I got changed, made a coffee, then went to sit on the front step to watch whatever drama was unfolding today. No sooner did I sit down, and Jimmy shouted over to me that, Mrs Graham the ninety-two-year-old lady across the street, was the latest of our neighbours to contract the Coronavirus and had just been rushed to the hospital. Only then I noticed Eddy standing at the bus stop about fifty yards up the road. Johnny saw him as he got in the silver Mondeo his brother was waiting in. what happened next happened so fast that most weren't visual at all. I watched the lads drive off aggressively, cutting off a bus and careering down the road at high speed. They never looked back and never saw the terrible chain of events that followed in their wake of anger. The bus that swerved clipped an oncoming bin lorry; then, it lost control, mounted the pavement, crushing the bus stop shelter. The four people inside, Eddy included, were killed instantly.

They got their wish; their father was dead and dead by their actions; however, unintentional, they had been in the end. Both lads are currently remanded in custody, awaiting trial for the accident. Still, things aren't looking good for them right now with many charges, including four for manslaughter. It makes you wonder; would this perfectly normal family have fallen apart if it hadn't been for the Coronavirus and the lockdown. I guess we will never actually know, and I suppose things happen for a reason, and it's not all bad; old Mrs Graham across the road is back home having beat the virus. She came back from the brink. Let's hope the rest of us can do the same. Stay safe.

Gods and Men. The End.

Poseidon gazed upon the derelict site that had once held the balance of power over all that ever was, now lying abandoned and bare. It was the pillars that had initially taken his very breath away, looking like stone twigs on the mountain, nothing like the former magnificent golden pillars surrounded by beautiful flora and fauna enveloping the entire glistening structure, heaven beyond compare. All this beauty under the watchful gaze of the giant statue that many presumed to be Poseidon himself. Alas, for this guardian had been here long before he himself was but a child learning at the knees of greater Gods. This behemoth statue in aeons past had the skin of liquid mercury, giving it a beautifully terrifying metallic appearance, which moved continuously over its entire body.

As the horror and sadness overwhelmed Poseidon, his knees trembled beneath him as his left eye shod a single tear. Rage then engulfed every atom of his very being by the sight of the stone effigies towering before him, all that remained of the house of the gods. He sprang forwards, driving his trident aggressively towards the ground with a scream of inarticulate rage. Then. Nothing. The raging earthquake that should have followed, well, it did not. Nothing did at first. Poseidon just stood there alone for the first time in a long time, feeling rather stupid and glad he was alone at this foolish time. As he looked around, lost, not sure what to do with himself, he noticed a flash above his head that made him jump back a considerable distance to avoid the colossal object hurtling towards him. To his anguish, the ground shook from the impact of what in horror he realised was the statues trident which had him pinned to the ground, unharmed but stuck fast by a power he had never seen in his hundred thousand years playing on this blue marble called earth.

The ground began to shake once more as the statue bent down to face his pray with hypnotic golden eyes. It then spoke with such tremendous volume that the sky shook the clouds dry.

“Poseidon, you are the last of your kind to return”, it roared in his face, burning his hair.

“You and all your kind hold power no longer. Although immortal you gods are, but children lost in time but now with the world below us in turmoil, due in huge part to games of your petty squabbles among you creatures and the damage that you have caused to mankind on this planet and that mankind itself has caused on the planet. Your time and mankind’s time are over. It is time for the awakening of women!” it continued.

Terrified, Poseidon tried to speak, but could not, to move, but could not, to think, he could one single thought, ‘ How is this happening to me?’ as if it had plucked the thought right out of his head it spoke again.

“This is how things are supposed to be according to the sands of time. You Gods’, your time on this mortal plain is over. When I click my fingers, YOU and every male of the human species will turn to dust, and the future of the world will be left in the hands of, Women, the bringers of life on this planet since complex life began—taken over by games of Gods’ and wars of men. All of you. Parasites. Feeding on this rare life-giving planet in this sparse section of the universe”, Thundered the statue, as it hammered the ground above Poseidon’s head with its gigantic stone fist, which it then raised its hand in front of Poseidon and connected its thumb and forefinger ready to conduct his destruction with a click.

“Know this before we part. Your destruction, along with four billion fewer male human hormonal parasitic worms, will allow the planet to heal and their species to survive. Once they and you turn to dust, the women will absorb mankind’s ability to seed, leaving the male line of the species unneeded for future generations of human females who will be able to initiate self-impregnation, at will, twice in their lifetime. This will allow them to flourish in a warless society of self-improvement, unlike the strain that gods and men put on the fragile ecosystem, selfishly taking the planet for granted”. It finished, quickly retracting his trident and clicking his fingers.

Before Poseidon or indeed mankind realised what had happed, it was over. They just gently blew away forever in a breath of ice-cold air that enveloped the planet for a month and a day.

This new present Earth era will be difficult for Women to adjust to, and undoubtedly some interesting stories along the way, but that, my friends, is a story for another night. Goodnight.

End

I never saw it coming.

As I pulled up alongside my house, I was exhausted. The recent story I had been working on was taking up my whole life at the moment; in fact, it had pretty much taken over everyone's local as we were a community in fear. After six murders in the past fortnight, the tension was enormous in the community. Everyone was terrified that it could be them next or that the killer could be a friend or family member. Everyone seemed suddenly guilty to their neighbours, as you can imagine, everyone had a theory, so much so that the underfunded police force was utterly overwhelmed by the sheer volume of so-called witness statements and false information they were getting nowhere fast; meanwhile, people were dropping like flies. I had been so scared about it that I had sent my wife and kids to live with my parents in Canada until this lunatic was caught.
I got out of the car and sauntered down the path to my front door. As I put my key in the lock, I noticed that the lights were on throughout the entire house. I stood there for a moment dumbstruck as to why they were on; after another moment, I snapped out of being dumbstruck to being scared, so I retreated to my car to phone the police. I jumped into the battered old Citroen and at once hit the deadlock switch on the dash. Pulling my phone from the inside pocket of my coat when the sudden images of half a dozen horror movies flashing through my mind, and I flung myself around in a ready for anything, the way that probably looked from the outside like I was having some kind of fit, luckily my car was empty except me. I turned back around to face the wheel, hoping no one saw as the embarrassment rose. I went back to my phone and dialled 999, it rang once, and the automated voice said, emergency services which service do you require? Police, I replied. Three rings later, an operator spoke. Police emergency services, can you tell me what your emergency is, please? My words stumbled for a second, but finally, I said hi my name is Jarvis Glover, and I have just got home from dropping my family at the airport, and all the lights are on in my home. There was a slight pause before the operator spoke, 'so, Mr Glover, are you positive that they were off when you left, sir? As this seems like a trivial matter for emergency services. Utterly gobsmacked, I replied,' yes, I am positive my house was in darkness when I left none of the lights was on; I don't have any automated lights. The only other people with keys to my home are my wife and kids, who It couldn't be as I just saw them get on a plane to Canada. Which they only got on because a serial killer is stalking our neighbourhood, which is kind of why I'm so concerned that someone may be in my home. The operator replied, try to stay calm, sir. Officers should be there in two minutes. Where are you now, sir? I have locked myself in my car just outside my house it is a silver Citroen C4 sitting outside my house omg my address is six monuments terrace, I said. It's okay, sir. I have sent units straight to your GPS location. Please try not to panic. Sir officers will be there in thirty seconds. You keep talking to me until they reach you. Why didn't you go with your family,' she asked? Thrown for a second, I spoke.' I'm a journalist, and I'm covering this story for the telegraph; they only went because I insisted, none of them were happy to get on that plane. Still, I thought better safe than sorry, and then I get home to find my house lit up like Blackpool'.' For what it is worth, I think you did the right thing trying to keep your family safe,' she said. At that moment, I saw two police cars driving around the corner at the bottom of the road and driving past the shop towards my car and pulled up in front of my car. I quickly said goodbye to the operator and hung up. three officers got out of the BMW M5 police cars and walked up to my window, which I put down at once. The first officer introduced himself as pc Harman and asked what the problem was, which I quickly did when I had finished explaining my concerns. The officers exchanged sceptical looks but obviously saw my distress. They felt sorry for me, took my keys, and gave them to his colleagues, who headed straight inside to check out my house. By this point, I had stopped being scared and started to feel embarrassed I looked up at pc Harman who seemed annoyed, to be fair but as far as I am concerned, it is better safe than sorry. He finally spoke .so Mr Glover, why don't you come and sit in the back of my car while we get some details from you? I quickly got out of my car and walked towards the police car with pc Harman when one of his colleagues grabbed me and pinned me to the bonnet of the police car. Before I even realised what had happened, I was handcuffed and thrown into the back of their car. Screaming at them, what the fuck is going on? I phoned you. What are you arresting me for? They both looked frightened as they spoke quietly out of earshot. A moment later, Harman took the five steps to the car and opened the back door and formally arrested me for the murder of two as yet unknown individuals. I was back to being dumbstruck what the absolute fuck had just happened. Harman walked around the car and got in the other back seat while his colleague got in the driver's seat and drove me to the nearest police station; what had happened in my home while I was gone? The drive from my house to the police station and the booking in the process of being arrested and sent to a cell was over in a flash. Still, from the moment they took the shoes from my feet and locked that cell door, every second felt like an eternity. Funny note about being arrested that really does not make sense. Why did they take my shoes? They said because shoelaces are a suicide risk. Still, I'm sitting here on this paper-thin blue mattress freezing my ass off because I haven't got shoes on, so I huddled up and put up the hood of the hoodie type jumper I was wearing and tightened the hood around my face with the hood cord. Yes, you read this correctly, the hood cord. So, the next few hours, which felt like days, I sat and tried to work out how it would be possible to kill yourself with this in a cell. As it turns, aside from choking yourself till you faint, which wouldn't kill you, there isn't as far as I can tell any feasible way to top yourself in a police cell. Still, you could use it as a weapon against the officers, but even that is a bit of a stretch. Trying to construct this breach in their safeguarding of prisoners into a future story kept my mind occupied while I waited for at least one plus point to being arrested is I'm safe in here because I obviously Wouldn't have been had I walked into my house I was sure of that. Just then, the latch in the door opened, and a plainclothes officer in a cheap grey suit opened the door and introduced himself as DS Swann and led me through the labyrinth of corridors in the station to an interview room. As we entered the room, I noticed that the paper's lawyer Mr Maxwell was already there. Thank God, I thought to myself until I saw the foreboding look on his face. I will leave you to talk for five minutes before we formally interview you, sir. Said the officer as he closed the door behind me. I sat down next to Maxwell in the small interview room, where he turned to me and said, do you realise how serious this issue is? They have found all sorts of evidence in your home that points to you being the very serial killer you have been investigating! I looked at him in horror; what do you mean what sort of evidence? That is all they said. I am guessing we will find out as soon as they start the interrogation. What interrogation did I think this was an interview? You don't grasp how serious this is; YOU! are the prime suspect at this moment.
I didn't know what to do with myself. 'The prime suspect, is that a fucking joke? I phoned them. Why would I incriminate myself like that?' I snarled. Just calm down and say no comment throughout this first stage of the interview till we know what exactly we are dealing with, okay? He replied. I nodded my head in agreement just as the door to the room opened. Expecting to see the detectives interview me, I was shocked to see a person walking in the room wearing a ski mask with a handgun pointed towards me. He pulled the trigger, and time seemed to slow down by fifty per cent. Staring at my imminent death, people say that your life flashes before you, but mine didn't in my final second on this earth before the bullet shot through my right eye and exploded the back of my head all over the plain white interview walls. All I could think about was how I had wasted my last few hours thinking of ways to commit suicide in a police cell, but then it was over. I would never see my family again or find out the truth of who the serial killer actually was; funny how things never end how you'd expect.
The End