Robin Jarvis - The Fatal Strand

Edie chewed her bottom lip thoughtfully. ‘I’ll look after both of you,’ she pledged.

‘I know, child. To you I entrust the care of the museum and the many secrets it holds.’

Over the carved beasts which crowded the chamber’s walls, Miss Celandine’s wild shadows continued to leap, and Edie narrowed her almond-shaped eyes as she watched them. Something was wrong.

Amongst those gyrating shapes was a disharmony that she could not place. Over that stone menagerie the fleeting silhouettes licked and bounced with the same deranged vigour as before, but now a new element mingled with them – an extra shadow which did not belong there.

At first it was difficult to distinguish this additional outline from the rest of the frenetic show. Confused, Edie peered at the strangely stilted shade with a puzzled expression upon her face. Then, with a sudden terror clutching her stomach, the awful truth dawned upon her.

Spinning round, the girl let out a yell of fright. The stretcher was empty. There – standing directly behind Miss Ursula, her raised hand clutching hold of the rusted blade and ready to strike – was Miss Veronica Webster.

Down stabbed the spear, slicing a savage arc through the stagnant air. But Edie’s shout had been enough, and Miss Ursula moved aside a moment before the weapon plunged through the space where she had just been sitting.

Springing up, Edie pulled the eldest of the Fates to her feet and both stared in horror at the decrepit figure before them.

Orbs of darkness glared out from Miss Veronica’s haggard face in place of eyes. Like mirrors of polished jet they reflected the surrounding torchlight, but no hint of life gleamed within their inky depths.

About her hunched shoulders, her long, coal-coloured hair snaked and streamed as though an infernal breeze blew upon it. Then, taking a lurching step forward, the apparition once again slashed the scarlet-steeped weapon in front of her.

Edie dragged Miss Ursula clear of the sweeping blade. Then those dark eyes bent their power upon her and the girl shuddered, caught in the malevolence of their glance.

With jerking spasms, the lifeless limbs lashed out and Miss Ursula covered the stricken child’s sight as she hauled her out of range.

‘Do not look at her!’ she cried. ‘That is not my sister. A foulness is in possession of her body. Edith – come quickly!’

Avoiding the spiking blows they fled, but the animated cadaver darted in pursuit, furiously ripping and tearing the air behind them.

Around the well Edie and Miss Ursula ran, barely dodging the vicious thrusts until Miss Veronica’s shrivelled mouth gaped open and the malice-filled spirit which drove her let loose an unearthly, echoing howl.

At the gateway, Miss Celandine staggered to a standstill. With the folds of her nightgown swishing about her, she stared at the scene incredulously.

‘Veronica!’ she exclaimed, a wide grin splitting her face. ‘Veronica!’

Overcome with joy she bounded across the earthen floor towards the horror that awaited.

‘No!’ Miss Ursula shouted. ‘Celandine – that is not Veronica!’

But Miss Celandine did not heed her. All she saw was her young sister, alive once more, and she flung herself forward, squealing with wondrous exultation.

A hideous snarl twisted the dead lips as the corpse wheeled to meet her and the spear glinted ruddily in the firelight.

‘Celandine!’ Edie bawled. ‘Stop!’

Too late, Miss Celandine beheld those black, soulless eyes. She could not halt her blundering gait and went slithering to the ground at the very feet of her departed sister.

Screaming shrilly, she frantically rolled aside just as the spear come plummeting for her chest.

Deep into the soil the weapon bit, but the creature immediately tore it loose. Already Miss Celandine was scrambling away, but she was no match for the adamantine will which propelled that repellent carcass. From the bloodstained robe a cold hand came raking. Grasping fingers clawed at her hair, seizing one of the wildly swinging plaits.

In despair, Miss Celandine felt the violent wrenching of her scalp and she buckled backwards, torn off balance. Down she fell and up flew the spear once more. This time there was no escaping; the fingers which yanked her head to the floor owned an unnatural strength and no amount of squirming would loosen their malignant, murderous grip.

Up into Veronica’s withered face Miss Celandine was compelled to stare, and from that dead mouth came a rasping breath which filled her shrinking nostrils with the reek of lifeless lungs.

Wailing in terror, Miss Celandine’s exposed throat quivered and trembled. Then the slaughtering strike came rushing down.

‘Get away from her!’ a furious voice shrieked.

Before the blade could drink yet more Webster blood, Miss Ursula came running up and threw herself upon that scything arm, using all her might to shove it aside.

By a hair’s breadth, the killing blow missed Miss Celandine’s neck and at last she wriggled free.

A repugnant hiss issued from the corpse’s mouth as it leaped after her, but Miss Ursula jumped forward. Just as Edie Dorkins scurried to the nightmare’s heels upon her hands and knees, the woman gave an almighty push.

Backwards the abomination blundered, tumbling over the obstacle which lay in wait behind. A hellish screech ricocheted about the cavern and the creature fell heavily against the weed-wrapped stone of the wellhead.

In a second it had rallied and risen once more. Brandishing the lethal blade, it darted greedy glances at the waiting prey, selecting which would be its first victim.

‘We can’t stop her!’ Miss Celandine wept, scampering towards the gateway. ‘She’ll kill us all!’

It was then that Edie discovered she was completely alone. Miss Celandine’s mewling wails were already echoing through the adjoining chambers and, with a shock, she realised that Miss Ursula had also disappeared. With those glittering black eyes turned full upon her, the girl saw the corpse’s sepulchral flesh come prowling closer.

‘Get back, you!’ the girl growled. ‘I warns yer!’

Yet her threats sounded feeble and unfounded, for the unclean darkness which beat from those venomous eyes rooted the child to the spot. There was nothing she could do; her limbs were locked and still the monster advanced. The hairs on the back of Edie’s neck prickled when she saw how sharp the rusted blade now appeared and she swallowed helplessly.

Then it pounced.

Yet in that moment, Edie was whisked off the ground and a glimmering light streaked past her.

With unerring accuracy, Miss Ursula hurled the small oil lamp at her dead sister and it exploded at the corpse’s feet with a blinding burst of glass and liquid flame.

On to Veronica’s bloodstained robe the fuel fires splashed and an instant later the entire garment was ablaze.

‘Begone and burn!’ Miss Ursula commanded, setting Edie back down.

Vivid, crackling flames were now leaping over the possessed creature, wreathing it in bright, lapping tongues, and a hollow, squalling screech boiled out from the blackening lips.

The long dark hair, which had been Miss Veronica’s pride, crinkled, burning away in the devouring heat whilst the wrinkled skin began to roast and smoke.

Yet still the eyes glared out at Ursula and Edie and, though the flames raged about its face, it could see them well enough.

As a writhing pillar of fire, the fiend tottered a wavering zigzag towards the woman and child, fiercely flailing its wasted, fiery arms.

‘Quickly!’ Miss Ursula told the girl. ‘Back this way.’

To the wellhead they stumbled, with the burning body chasing after, like a pursuing demon cloaked in flame. From this roaring terror they fled and, shining brighter than ever in that scorching grasp, the spear slashed a crimson web of hellish light.