Chapter One
Chapter 1. Short.
“A man that flies from his fear may find that he has only taken a short cut to meet it.”
J R R Tolkien
“It isn't there! It isn't there. I know it isn't there.... Oh God help me!!”
The words spit forth, spraying the hands as they wrestle the steering wheel. The eyes dart from mirror, hurriedly scanning the rear seat, back again to the road ahead. The strained roar of the engine, declares intent, urgency accompanied by the high-pitched screams of tires as the car negotiates the winding road. The headlights splintering the darkened once azure sky, breaking through the cathedral spired trees that line the road. The valley echoes the roar of the engine as the car speeds on. The rain, falls, bursting like stars on the windscreen, flowing like a transient skin across the metallic electric blue paint
The ribbed, red leather seat shadows into the corner, the eyes straining, searches in the stolen glances.” Is that it?”, accompanying further hastened scans into the darkened recesses. The drivers head skews, tilts and twists to seek the obscured, to pierce the shadow. The strained voice threatening to erupt into, moist, hysterical sobs.
Then from the dark pool of the rear the face emerges as if rising from being submerged in a dark body of water, into light. The skin luminescent, green tinged corpse-like white. Emotionless, piercing black eyes fixed into the wide, now horrified eyes of the driver. “Oh my God!” He grips the wheel tighter. The face begins to recoil and re-submerge into the black chasm of the rear, A smile now growing on the otherwise stagnant face. At that moment he is distracted, he sees something move into the headlights. He pulls at the wheel, the tyres rumble heralding the adjustment, the swerve taking car off the asphalt and onto the stone and dirt encrusted siding. The deer bounds off as the car skims past it, spraying pebbles into the air. He corrects further, jostling with the wheel until the squeal of rubber abates and the car accelerates into its straight, forward line, spearing through the rain.
No ripples in the blackness could be seen but the tsunamic fear that they instilled were further shown by the now panting like breaths and beading sweat upon the goose bumped skin of the tortured driver. The stillness and calm of the rear, repeatedly glanced at, showed no sign of occupancy. Gradually the demands of the road dictated less observation of the rear seats, but this didn't halt the stampede of the cars horses down the twists and turns of the valley road. The headlights beams blinding and illuminating in equal measure, essential and tormenting. Each negotiation of turn further straining the vision of the road ahead. Watching for another obstacle, another danger. The car began to slide, his hands crossed the fighting wheel as the car struggled into a sharp right turn. As the car became righted, the face projected forth from the passenger side, the face carried no smile, a leer, a jerky movement toward him from the blackened hint of the body.
The driver screams, a banshee’s wail echoed by the haunting rubberised screech of the tyres now mirroring the torment. The car fishtailing now in the shallow, black snakelike stream awkwardly, perilously continues on. Then the inevitable, one final squeal which ended suddenly to the roaring tone of an engine over revving as it left the road. The dull yet splintered impact was unceremonious, unadulterated, an “indie” collision that underlined the very real “Realtime” ominous conclusion.
The car ticked and hissed but to a blanket of dampened silence. The rain fell as silent applause, the presence of calm, felt, the absence of sounds...a departure of the spectator at the performance now over. The car, a distortion of itself, crumpled front end partially embedded into the molting bark of a tree. A single headlight shines, stretching the trees shadow off into the eclipsing darkness, framing the scene. The driver motionless staring ahead, little hint of any trauma save for a small trickle of blood now beading from the side of his mouth. His respirations were jagged, snatched gulps that did not interfere with his gaze. The horror, the fear had been replaced by a blankness, a neutrality that itself ominously underlined the inevitability. His breaths begin to form a strained rhythm. A series of snatches of air then a long exhaling pause. His eyes begin to conduct the narrative, dimming, almost flickering yet not blinking. They remained fixed gazing outwardly behind the tree and into the depths. This diminutive persistence heralded the departure, the slow withdrawal of life. But then the eyes widen, mouth animates, and begins to part.... the figure of the ghoulish fiend, so tortuous in the car now stands aside of the tree, stands still, observant, altogether unyielding. A black, solid wisp clearly defined in the light yet almost formless save for its head. The face emotionless gazing into the car, through the cracked windscreen into the eyes now once again filled with fear. The breathes chained, a struggle, a chess piece falling to the board. The eyes were lifeless, holding their captor, torment, tightly but surrendered to all else.
With this the figure turned and dissolved into the scrub behind it. No word just the stain of what had been.
“A man that flies from his fear may find that he has only taken a short cut to meet it.”
J R R Tolkien
“It isn't there! It isn't there. I know it isn't there.... Oh God help me!!”
The words spit forth, spraying the hands as they wrestle the steering wheel. The eyes dart from mirror, hurriedly scanning the rear seat, back again to the road ahead. The strained roar of the engine, declares intent, urgency accompanied by the high-pitched screams of tires as the car negotiates the winding road. The headlights splintering the darkened once azure sky, breaking through the cathedral spired trees that line the road. The valley echoes the roar of the engine as the car speeds on. The rain, falls, bursting like stars on the windscreen, flowing like a transient skin across the metallic electric blue paint
The ribbed, red leather seat shadows into the corner, the eyes straining, searches in the stolen glances.” Is that it?”, accompanying further hastened scans into the darkened recesses. The drivers head skews, tilts and twists to seek the obscured, to pierce the shadow. The strained voice threatening to erupt into, moist, hysterical sobs.
Then from the dark pool of the rear the face emerges as if rising from being submerged in a dark body of water, into light. The skin luminescent, green tinged corpse-like white. Emotionless, piercing black eyes fixed into the wide, now horrified eyes of the driver. “Oh my God!” He grips the wheel tighter. The face begins to recoil and re-submerge into the black chasm of the rear, A smile now growing on the otherwise stagnant face. At that moment he is distracted, he sees something move into the headlights. He pulls at the wheel, the tyres rumble heralding the adjustment, the swerve taking car off the asphalt and onto the stone and dirt encrusted siding. The deer bounds off as the car skims past it, spraying pebbles into the air. He corrects further, jostling with the wheel until the squeal of rubber abates and the car accelerates into its straight, forward line, spearing through the rain.
No ripples in the blackness could be seen but the tsunamic fear that they instilled were further shown by the now panting like breaths and beading sweat upon the goose bumped skin of the tortured driver. The stillness and calm of the rear, repeatedly glanced at, showed no sign of occupancy. Gradually the demands of the road dictated less observation of the rear seats, but this didn't halt the stampede of the cars horses down the twists and turns of the valley road. The headlights beams blinding and illuminating in equal measure, essential and tormenting. Each negotiation of turn further straining the vision of the road ahead. Watching for another obstacle, another danger. The car began to slide, his hands crossed the fighting wheel as the car struggled into a sharp right turn. As the car became righted, the face projected forth from the passenger side, the face carried no smile, a leer, a jerky movement toward him from the blackened hint of the body.
The driver screams, a banshee’s wail echoed by the haunting rubberised screech of the tyres now mirroring the torment. The car fishtailing now in the shallow, black snakelike stream awkwardly, perilously continues on. Then the inevitable, one final squeal which ended suddenly to the roaring tone of an engine over revving as it left the road. The dull yet splintered impact was unceremonious, unadulterated, an “indie” collision that underlined the very real “Realtime” ominous conclusion.
The car ticked and hissed but to a blanket of dampened silence. The rain fell as silent applause, the presence of calm, felt, the absence of sounds...a departure of the spectator at the performance now over. The car, a distortion of itself, crumpled front end partially embedded into the molting bark of a tree. A single headlight shines, stretching the trees shadow off into the eclipsing darkness, framing the scene. The driver motionless staring ahead, little hint of any trauma save for a small trickle of blood now beading from the side of his mouth. His respirations were jagged, snatched gulps that did not interfere with his gaze. The horror, the fear had been replaced by a blankness, a neutrality that itself ominously underlined the inevitability. His breaths begin to form a strained rhythm. A series of snatches of air then a long exhaling pause. His eyes begin to conduct the narrative, dimming, almost flickering yet not blinking. They remained fixed gazing outwardly behind the tree and into the depths. This diminutive persistence heralded the departure, the slow withdrawal of life. But then the eyes widen, mouth animates, and begins to part.... the figure of the ghoulish fiend, so tortuous in the car now stands aside of the tree, stands still, observant, altogether unyielding. A black, solid wisp clearly defined in the light yet almost formless save for its head. The face emotionless gazing into the car, through the cracked windscreen into the eyes now once again filled with fear. The breathes chained, a struggle, a chess piece falling to the board. The eyes were lifeless, holding their captor, torment, tightly but surrendered to all else.
With this the figure turned and dissolved into the scrub behind it. No word just the stain of what had been.