A Death Displaced (21 page)

Aldrich continued. ‘I panicked then, your mother knew there was something fishy about me. I’d revealed I wanted her boys, the precious twins. She stood up to leave, but I couldn’t let her, and I couldn’t trance her. She would have told the authorities about me. If enough people came to my door, I wouldn’t be able to control too many at once.
No.
Not effectively. I’d never met anyone who I couldn’t trance.
Never
. In my long years,
never
.

‘I reached for a knife, an old ornament of mine, and I stabbed her repeatedly. Yes. Ha! I’d never killed anyone without using my ability before. She struggled. Tried to scratch at my face. Tried to kick me.
Blood everywhere.
’ Except for the occasional stresses, he said everything matter-of-fact, as if telling Nick what he’d had for breakfast rather than that he’d murdered his mother.  ‘I disposed of her body. Put it in the boot of her car and drove it to the cliff over there,’ he pointed towards the cliff edge, ‘and pushed it over.’

A lump invaded Nick’s throat. It was heart-breaking to realise his mum had never wanted to leave her family. He knew now why she’d withdrawn the money; she’d planned a romantic present for her husband. John would have loved a day-boat.

Nick’s mind was cloudy, foggy; he came over lightheaded and uncomfortable. Unbidden, graphic images came to him: his mother struggling, fighting for her life. The pure horror she must have felt. What were her last thoughts? His body became hotter, sweating, alternating between tensing and shaking.

He thought of his relationship with his dad, how it had changed after his mum’s disappearance. He thought about his insecurities in the past relationship with Kerra, how he’d always been afraid she would leave, like his mum had. He thought about how he’d failed most of his GCSEs because of the grief. He thought about how he’d had to move out to get away from his dad, and how now he
never
had any money. He thought about how he’d secluded himself and lost contact with most of his friends.

And then finally he thought about what his life would have been like if his mother was still alive; how full of joy his dad would be; all the things they could have done together in the past eight, almost nine, years; the family holidays they would have gone on; the Christmases and birthdays they could have celebrated as a
complete
family; the love they would have shared.

I want to kill him.

He looked at Aldrich, who was impatiently goggling around at the trees. The one Aldrich was propped against was completely leafless, tall and almost black with crooked branches. It looked dead but full of character, menacing; if a tree could be described as such. It was only too appropriate to have the monster known as Aldrich propped against such a macabre tree.

Turning sharply to Nick, Aldrich said, ‘Oh, and if I could have put your mother under a trance, I would have done
a lot
more than just sacrifice your brothers. She was a pretty thing. Yes. She would have looked
very agreeable
in my bed.’ He cackled violently.

Within a split second, Nick found himself pounding Aldrich in the face. He brought his fist down repeatedly, feeling the awful thud of his knuckles on Aldrich’s skull. He heard Aldrich’s nose crack. Blood gushed from his nostrils.
I hate you, I HATE YOU!

He moved back only to kick Aldrich in the ribs, and it pleased him that he’d worn winklepickers, knowing the pointed end would surely hurt Aldrich’s side. In his fury the pains from being attacked earlier were dulled. They didn’t matter!

Then he got his foot tangled in the chocolate-brown throw. He awkwardly tripped on it, but got back up and continued to kick and punch him in frenzy. Aldrich weakly murmured, ‘St… stop … p… ppuh… please.’ His head lulled to one side. Spit mixed with blood sloppily dripped from his mouth. 

Why should I stop? You didn’t stop when you stabbed my mum to death, my innocent mum. You don’t deserve mercy.
But then he did stop, and focused on the pain in his knuckles and toes. His fists were bloody. His body ached; not one for regular exercise, this was physically taxing.

He knew he had a choice, a choice that would change him forever.

I can’t kill you. I’m not like you. I’m not a murderer.

Allowing himself to stumble backwards, he ended up on the ground. Aldrich’s chest still rose and fell, and so Nick felt slight relief. He didn’t have the energy to cry, and simply sat there instead.

After a long moment of well-deserved self-pity, he tried to stand up tall. Fatigued, he got to his feet and then trudged over to the murderer. He weakly reapplied the blindfold, and Aldrich moaned dazedly in defiance.

Nick thought about the idea that his mum had been immune to Aldrich’s ability too, and that that had got her killed. He considered that possibly his mum had been ‘psychic’ like him, and that the gift had been passed down. If she’d seen the future, though, then she wouldn’t have been murdered. Would she? But then as he’d already experienced, visions weren’t necessarily accurate. And also, he’d only had his first vision recently at the age of twenty-four. It was possible his mum’s ability had never switched on.

The blood, his mother covered in dark-red punctures, fleshy, glistening wounds ... gore; horrible images flickered across his mind.
Urghhh
! He clenched his fists and mentally pushed the pictures away, hopefully somewhere they would stay locked tight, never to return.

Aldrich had told him Samantha Crystan’s mind had looked the same as his, but that the twins’ minds were different. Did the gift only get passed down to the first born? Or maybe, because they were twins, the gift had been split or weakened. He just didn’t know enough. Making a grumbling fed-up sound, he dismissed the thoughts.

‘Juliet?’ he shouted, his voice coming out weaker than expected. ‘Juliet, the blindfold is back on him. You can come back.’

There was no response; he tried to spot her through the trees.

‘Juliet?’ he bellowed.

Where is she?

Chapter 16

Transfixed, she walked. Autumn decay rustled underfoot. The woods swelled thicker, denser, heavier. Twigs crunched and the air smelt damp and wooden. Were the trees becoming taller the farther she delved?

The thing swirled and weaved excitedly through the tangled trees. It glowed. Juliet’s gaze was glued to it, and she imagined its reflection shining and twinkling on the surface of her eyes.

A tranquil quiet filled her mind as she followed the thing. She knew she could break off at any point; it wasn’t like Aldrich’s evil trance. She had the choice to turn and walk away, but she didn’t want to.

It was beautiful.

Juliet was confident it wasn’t a spirit. It didn’t wobble the air or agitate the atmosphere the way the spirits did. It was too elegant for that.

The decadent ground transformed the more she tread. She looked behind her, towards the direction she’d come from. It was full of brown, orange, and red; autumn at its purest.

But then she looked ahead, where the bobbing thing was. It was so alive in that direction. Autumn hadn’t hit that area.
Impossible.

Not all the trees were coniferous, and Juliet knew enough to recognise most were deciduous and should have been leafless at this time. It wasn’t just the fact they were leaved, but that they were so, so green. Branches were thick and overflowed with foliage. And then she noticed the flowers. They coated the ground in a myriad of colours: wildflowers of blue, yellow, purple, white. There were some she recognised and many she didn’t.

Have I stepped into a different world? Surely it’s spring here.

She turned back again and saw autumn behind her in walking distance. She was confident she was still in this world, that she hadn’t somehow passed out and woke in spring, or had stepped through a door into another universe.

There are probably scientific reasons to explain this.
Then instantly after that thought, she wasn’t so certain she believed it. It all looked too magical; everything was mingled harmoniously. She was modestly impressed with herself for not freaking out, imagining that a lesser person would be jostling in their knees right about now.

The bobbing fairy-like thing demanded her attention, and then zoomed through a bush and out of sight. Juliet sped up and eagerly pushed through in pursuit.

She found herself in a vast open area. The trees created a large circle perimeter, and when she looked up there was a halo of the sky. She felt like a contestant walking into an ancient Roman arena, like the Colosseum, and the trees were spectators. The ground was simply grassed in this clearing, deliciously green of course, but in the centre was the strangest thing.

A set of steps.

They didn’t lead upwards, but led below ground-level, as if to a basement in the woods. The steps looked ancient and almost ready to crumble. Juliet cautiously walked forwards, knelt down, and couldn’t resist the urge to touch the first stone stair. It was smooth, as if weathered, and felt strong against her fingers, contrasting with its appearance; Juliet had expected a coarse, sandy texture.

In fact, the steps reminded her of a place in Athens. On holiday with her parents, she’d visited the dramatic marble hill, Areopagus, also known as Mars Hill or the Hill of Ares. She recalled the old marble steps that had led to the hill. These were so alike, majestic.

Coming back to the here and now, she gasped when she saw what was at the bottom: a pool of light, almost completely white and shining fiercely. She stood up and moved backwards.

Her mind didn’t think ‘pool’ was the best fitting description. It looked of a gloopy consistency, ethereal, wondrous, and full of glitters. There were no usual sounds of the woods, no rustling, no chirpy-cheeps from the birds. All was still apart for the glowing pool. It warmly hummed a fixed ringing note that soothed her senses.

Then she spotted the thing, the glimmering whatever-it-was. It bounced around the air momentarily, and then flew down into the pool.

What on earth?
Her face transformed, confounded. The thing just vanished through the pool of light. As if it had become one with it, or as if the pool was really … a portal?

Juliet thought,
What is it?
And did she imagine she heard a whisper? Maybe it was a reply. She made an effort to direct her thoughts at the resplendent pool.

What are you?

The instant reply that pervaded her mind was:
The Otherworld
. It wasn’t like a voice saying it aloud; it was a sexless, language-less reply, but perfectly clear at the same time.
 
   

So was it a portal? Could she pass through it? Go into the light?

And then Tamara’s words came to mind:
You’re anchored in two worlds. You spiritually died. You are displaced. Your soul is in the Otherworld, but your body is here.

It startled her when she realised the most important thing: that she had the opportunity to get her soul back. Potentially it was on the other side of this portal. She could be normal and wouldn’t have to worry about spirits ever again. Although she’d already resolved to make the best out of her ability, she knew in her heart that she’d rather not have it at all. That it was a curse.

But anything could be on the other side of the portal. There was no guarantee that if she even located her soul she could do anything about it. Would it magically recognise her body and re-join it?

I’ll worry about that when it comes to it. I’ve got to take this chance.

She stole a deep breath and trundled down the steps. The air warmed the closer she got to the glimmering pool. A stair away, she paused and moved one foot close to the portal, wanting to ‘test the water’. But she didn’t dare to just yet.

Moving her foot away, she thought about it.
What if I passed through and couldn’t come back?
She would be stuck in the Otherworld.

Surprisingly, the idea of not returning didn’t upset her so much; she wouldn’t be leaving much behind. All she had was Chanton Hillview, her colleagues, Kim who was busy with Ryan, and her distant parents. Oh, and maybe now Nicolas since she’d kissed him … could that lead to anything more?

Stop. I’m being negative. Chanton Hillview is important to me. I’m a good manager. Kim is my best friend; I’d miss her and she’d miss me. My parents love me. These are things worth keeping. But … I want my soul back.

While she mulled over her conflicts, the pool of light hummed louder and drew her attention. And then it ‘said’ something.

:
Hello, Soulless One.

The words forced a deep void in her chest. She felt empty in a swift moment. To be called soulless pained her … soulless,
What am I without a soul? Am I even human?

She wondered what was actually speaking to her. Was it the portal itself or was there a being on the other side?

:
What’s your name, Soulless One?
The portal asked.

Juliet answered automatically, the way she always did when greeting someone. ‘Juliet Maystone,’ she said aloud, then considered that giving out her full name might not have been a great idea.

:
Soulless One
. The portal mocked her.

The urge to pass through the portal came back again. She rationalised that if she could get to the Otherworld, then she could get back, and if she could lose her soul, then she could gain it back. Failure was never an option. There had been times in her life when she’d wanted to run away from problems, but practical and applied thinking had always got the job done.

Decided, she was about to step into the gleaming pool but heard Nick’s voice a long way off, calling her name.

She wasn’t sure how far she’d travelled. Hastily jogging up the steps, she struggled to remember what direction she’d entered the clearing from. Nick called again, so she followed his voice.

She ran through the woods, sprinting from spring to autumn.
Running was easy; she ran on her treadmill most mornings, but that was wearing trainers, not wedge boots. Too hasty, she almost tripped and was lucky not to twist her ankle.