Shaun Jeffrey: Dead Man's Eye

Despite the macabre train of thought, she felt oddly calm, as though the weight of the world had been lifted from her shoulders; everything now seemed clear cut.

But how do you kill a pack of demons when the only way that appeared to work was beheading? She couldn’t exactly walk up to them all and hack at their heads with a machete without being stopped.

There had to be something. Something she hadn’t considered.

While she pondered the situation, she decided to call at as many churches as she could to obtain more holy water. At least then she would be able to hold any demons that confronted her at bay.

To hold the water, she purchased a couple of large bottles of fizzy pop from an all-night garage. She also managed to obtain a small funnel.

She drank a little of the pop, but poured most of it away.

Long gone were the days when churches weren’t locked out of hours, so she had to wait until morning before she could enter. That was a long way off.

Too anxious to sleep, and too scared to be on her own, she wandered the streets until she came across an all-night café.

The Asian man behind the counter nodded as she entered.

Across the other side of the room, a boy and girl in their early twenties looked up, then resumed their conversation. Both of them looked the worse for alcohol.

The café was well lit, but the interior left much to be desired. The yellow plastic chairs had seen better days and the table tops were laden with scratches and the odd bit of graffiti.

“What can I get you?” the man asked.

“Tea, please.” Realising she hadn’t eaten for ages, and that she would need all her strength, she said, “And can I have a plate of chips as well.”

The man nodded and proceeded to tip some frozen chips from a bag into the fryer. Then he poured the tea into a mug, passed it over and took her money.

“The chips won’t be long,” he said as he handed back her change.

Joanna nodded and carried her drink to a corner table. As she sat, a siren wailed outside. She ducked slightly as the police car sped by. Still wanted for an apparent murder that she didn’t commit, she didn’t dare risk being seen.

Once the noise petered out, she sat up and sipped at her drink, mulling over everything that had happened. She still couldn’t believe that Stephen and Nina were to all intents and purposes, dead.

When her chips arrived, she nibbled at them without enthusiasm, forcing herself to eat.

She recalled the hurried phone conversation with her mum. She must be worried sick, she thought, not knowing what’s going on. If she made a brief call, surely the police wouldn’t be able to trace it.

She reached into her pocket to withdraw her phone, but it wasn’t there. She searched her other pockets, then it occurred to her that she must have left it at Margaret’s house.

If it was just needed to make a call, she would have used a callbox, but the mobile phone also had the brief film clip on it. At the end of the day, she might need it.

Chastising herself, she picked up her empty bottles of pop and left the café. She didn’t really want to bother Margaret any further, but she had no choice.

Once she reached the road where Margaret lived, she saw a car pull up outside and a figure got out.

Stephen!

Heart pounding, she slipped into a neighbour’s front garden and hunkered down behind the hedge. What the hell was he doing here?

Tears bristled in her eyes.

Foliage rustled as she backed into the hedge, the sound amplified in the dark, and she grimaced.

As she tried to peer through the undergrowth, something niggled at her subconscious, and it took her a moment to realise she had clearly seen her boyfriend. That he hadn’t appeared blurred. That she had visibly seen him and his shadowy cohort. She blinked and looked around the garden, amazed to find that she could see perfectly well. She closed her Fuchs’ eye and the image remained clear. Then she reopened the closed eye and shut her other eye and the image blurred.

She didn’t understand how it was possible; could only assume that her transplanted cornea was now working correctly and had overcompensated for the other eye to correct her sight. It must have been such a gradual occurrence that she didn’t realise it had happened until now.

But where there should have been elation, she felt only sadness.

Down on hands and knees, she crawled forwards and peered through the leaves. Stephen stood further along the road, looking up at the house.

What was he doing here?

Was he looking for her?

She watched him walk up to the house. Apart from the shadowy corona, he looked so… normal. Looked like her boyfriend. She recalled kissing him, holding him, being close to him. Now all that was gone. Now she no longer knew who – or what – he was.

He approached the door. Joanna thought about Margaret and her baby. If Stephen got inside, there was no telling what he would do to them.

Amazed by her own bravado, she stood up on shaking legs and walked out into the road, head held high and shoulders back. Even before she opened her mouth, Stephen turned and stared at her. His lips curled into a grin.

“It’s me you want,” she said, the words tripping over her dry tongue.

“And it’s you I shall have,” he said, leaping down the drive and grabbing her before she could react.

Joanna fought to restrain the tears as he seized her arms and bundled her towards the car.

“Don’t you feel anything for me?” she asked. “What we had? Isn’t there any of the Stephen I know left?”

The creature pushed Joanna into the car.

“Talk to me. Stephen, if you can hear me, fight it.”

“You’re wasting your time,” the demon said. “Your boyfriend’s dead. And you’ll soon be joining him.”

Lincoln felt strange, slightly buoyant, as though his brain was nestled in cotton wool. He didn’t know what was going on, but he couldn’t snap out of it.

Worse was that he couldn’t see; was surrounded by blackness as though his eyes had been seared out with a red hot poker. Also, he couldn’t hear clearly, the only sound that of distant, incomprehensible chatter.

He fought to try to make his body function, to carry out his commands, but found himself unable to even move. At least not how he wanted, because he realised that he was moving. Walking to be exact, but he had no control over it. The whole process felt strange, and he only had the vaguest sensation of it. Preposterous as it seemed, something had taken control of his limbs.

He concentrated hard, willed himself to wake, to open his eyes, to regain control, but nothing worked. His consciousness was like a prisoner within his own body.

Knowing that despite his missing limb, he still had a powerful physique, his inability to control his body terrified him. As if losing an arm wasn’t bad enough, losing his mind too was more than he could bear.

He felt like screaming, but couldn’t give voice to the emotion, so he withdrew into himself and strained to make sense of the garbled voices.

“So you’ve found her. Well done,” Malachi said as he glared at Joanna.

He walked across the hospital basement towards her, pleased to see that she flinched, her stony expression wavering ever so slightly as he drew close.

“I’m going to enjoy taking your life,” he said.

“Go to hell.”

Malachi narrowed his eyes. She had guts, he would give her that. Hopefully the demon that he implanted within her body wouldn’t retain her backbone. He liked his followers to be subservient. There was only room at the top for one.

“You can’t be that strong if it takes two of your henchmen to keep hold of me,” Joanna said. “Not scared of me are you?”