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Great Writing - Home > Extended > Graffiti: Chapter VIII
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Extended Work
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| Graffiti: Chapter VIII | |
| By Kezzi | ||
| 28 September 2008 | ||
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Tabitha Walker is an outsider, shunned by the world after her life is
turned around by mysterious circumstances. But an eerie message on her
desk at school and a seductive smile change everything as the world of
the supernatural reveals itself...
-VIII-
Scars
Tabby hardly registered their escape as the corridor walls flew past them in a blur of moulding panels; wheeling round sharp corners, they pushed through the droves of vastly unconcerned students to reach the door. Everyone else clearly thought it was simply a drill… Hearts pounding, they broke out into the air; the relentless bell ringing out warning of a danger that no one else seemed to realise. That was, until they saw the flames. Smoke was rising in plumes from one of the old Science buildings, the black mass rolling across the sky to conceal the sun. Careless chatter quickly turned to gasps and shocked silence as the entire school stopped dead, necks craned upwards at the darkening sky. Tabby’s eyes raked the crowd for any sign of Andy, desperately praying he wasn’t in trouble. There was no mop of blond hair to be seen. She was about to turn to Dean to suggest they go and search for him, before realising he still had a very tight grip on her upper arm. A strange pulse was throbbing at the place their skin touched; out of time with their heartbeats and much less regular. It felt electric… He caught her looking at him and scowled, immediately releasing her and shifting away. “Dean - shouldn’t we try and find-” “Everyone stay calm!” a teacher hollered from directly behind them. “File quietly into your form lines…come on, you know what to do!” Tabby thought it would be wise to wait until the teacher had moved away before they stole off to find Andy, but a hand on her shoulder wiped all thoughts of deviation from her mind. “Ah, Miss Walker; your form lines up over here.” Mr Beverly was normally one of Tabby’s more agreeable teachers, but now her insides writhed with annoyance and fear as he led her away to her classmates. When she looked back over her shoulder, Dean had vanished. Hardly able to stand still, Tabby bobbed on her toes to see above the lines of students, searching frantically for any sign of Andy. Blue eyes, white shirt…anything… What if something had happened to him? If Malum had him cornered, she dreaded to think what he could be going through. The story of Jim’s death replayed in her mind and she panicked; so preoccupied that she didn’t notice a panting Ollie arrive beside her until he grabbed her by the shoulder. “Tabby! Calm down,” he hissed. Tabby made a strange yowling noise and jumped violently, wheeling around. “What the- oh my God, Ollie, don’t do that!” “Shh,” he warned. His tone was low, mousy eyes darting around to check no one was listening. He was clearly shaken. “Andy’s fine. We’re both fine. M-Malum found us. Explain later.” His string of quavering, disjointed words was followed immediately by a deep, wheezing cough, and he quickly pulled an inhaler from his pocket. After using it, he seemed to relax slightly; as a consequence, so did Tabby. Sirens blared out over the shrill ringing that echoed through the smoky air as fire engines arrived, hoses quickly on the scene to smother the flames as they threatened to lap at the walls of other buildings. The form tutors returned to their worried classes following a huddle with the headmaster and deputies, hoping to distract them from the terrible sight. “Could I have everyone’s attention, please?” Tabby’s tutor called. Thirty pairs of eyes slowly tore themselves away from the fire-fighters’ efforts and focussed upon the thin, ageing woman in front of them. “In light of the fire and for your own safety, the headmaster has decided to end school early so that we can get you all home safely as soon as possible.” Several cheers were heard over the distant crackle of the Science block’s destruction. “The bus companies have been notified and transport will be arriving very shortly. Those of you who live nearby are advised to go straight home; please, for goodness’ sake don’t hang around or go anywhere near the fire. I should hope you’re all smarter than that.” As the neat lines began to break apart, Ollie took Tabby’s hand and led her through the buzz to where Dean stood - with Andy. Tabby let out a breath she didn’t realise she’d been holding, shoulders sagging in relief. She’d have run forwards and flung her arms around him were it not for the memory of Ollie’s hurt feelings that morning. She gave his hand a gentle squeeze as he let go; a wide smile from Andy being enough to quell the last of the fear bubbling in her stomach. “Thank goodness we’re all okay,” he said, “but we need to get to the church, right now.” It took just a matter of minutes to reach the familiar tall, steepled building. Tabby grew concerned about Ollie’s asthma as they jogged down the pavement; but upon looking behind to check on him, she saw Andy was already at his side to help should he get into trouble. They’re such great friends, those two…how on Earth can I get with Andy if it means breaking Ollie’s heart? Bolting shut the heavy oak doors, the four sank down in the pews to catch their breath. It was already quite dark in the cool, spacious church; the grimy windows did not permit much light to pass through, and as winter crept in further the skies deepened early. Tabby’s thoughts were thrown back to the fire as Andy got up to light the alter candles - the Science block would be just a blackened shell now. “What the hell happened, Andy?” Dean demanded, more out of fear than anger. Andy rejoined them, sitting down heavily on the wooden bench. “Well, Ollie and I had been…talking in one of the old Science classrooms,” he began heavily, “when we felt a really strong presence. We knew we’d experienced it before, and where…” he shuddered, “…so were on high alert. Then stuff started falling from the shelves, and we knew we were right.” Tabby didn’t even have to question their suspicions; a mutual understanding hung in the air, almost dripping bloodily as Andy continued. Ollie was positively quivering. “It just so happened that the stupid Science teacher who used to own the room left a lighter in the desk drawer,” Andy sighed. “Malum got it out and set alight to a stack of books before ripping the key out of the lock and flinging it out of the closed window. He disappeared, and we were trapped.” “Hang on,” Dean interrupted, “why was the door locked?” Andy looked puzzled for a second. “Oh, er…Malum locked it. I thought I said that?” Dean was about to reply when Ollie gave a squeak from his bench. Andy immediately went to him and put an arm around his shaking shoulders. “It’s okay; we’re safe in here, remember?” he murmured to him before turning back to the others. “Anyway, we managed to escape by smashing the window with a desk, and climbing out. But not before I’d warned you guys, of course. I hoped that, wherever you were in the school, it’d catch your eye.” Tabby saw the flash of his EctoSketcher’s blade as he briefly removed it from his pocket. “We’re not safe, not now he knows,” Ollie was mumbling quietly, hunched over. “He knows where we go to school…it’s only a matter of time before he follows us home and burns our houses down…no crucifix can save us from that…” Tabby stared blankly ahead as Andy comforted him, a horrible realisation dawning on her. Now, more than ever before, they were in real danger; any day now she could go to bed and not wake up in the morning. It was a terrifying thought that made her angry; she’d had to move to Blackthorn for her own safety in the first place, and now this was happening…she almost wished she’d never let her curiosity get the better of her. In four measly days, so much had changed; she had somehow wormed her way onto the hitlist of the most vengeful spirit in existence, and that had to be a bad thing. It took her a while to realise that Dean’s gaze was upon her. He had taken off his hoodie and looked oddly naked without it; his slender build now visible, as he wore a short-sleeved band shirt. Tabby was about to timidly mention that she liked the same band when something else caught her eye. He had scars on his wrists. They were only just visible, peeking above one of his black sweatbands; the candlelight throwing them into relief against his pale skin. Tabby felt a sudden rush of sympathy towards him; does he hurt himself? A sudden strange urge to sit next to him and tell him everything was okay welled up inside her, and she was forcibly reminded of her mother. She used to do the same for her when she sat shaking on the bathroom floor, blood soaking into the towels wrapped around her arms…she shook her head quickly. That never has to happen again…besides, as if Dean wants my sympathy. “Charlie?” Andy’s call towards the ceiling broke through the membrane of silence, his eyes gleaming determinedly. “If you’re up there, please let the rest of your kind know that we’re in danger. Malum’s discovered where we go to school, and we’re going to need protection there now.” Ollie squeezed his arm. “Oh, and as an extra precaution, we might need to be watched going home from school, as well.” A low howl easily mistakable for a gust of wind echoed through the high stone supports above them; Charles had received their message. Andy turned his attention back to the expectant group. “The good ghosts are the best protection we’re going to get; they should be able to hold off Malum for a while if he tries to get to any of us. He’s powerful as a spirit in terms of being able to move objects easily - but whenever a ghost-on-ghost clash occurs, it all comes down to the physical strength they possessed in life. I’ve heard Malum was quite pudgy and weak, whereas we have a few old miners on our side. And trust me, they’re pretty strong.” Tabby felt her fear lessen and relaxed; Dean stood up and moved towards the door, tugging his hoodie over his head. Andy, however, stopped him. “Hang on; it’s quite dark outside now, do you reckon you could walk Tabby home?” his voice was quiet, but Tabby could still make out what he was saying and flinched at the suggestion. “I need to stay with Ollie…he’s really shaken…” Ollie indeed was still hunched up trembling on the bench, staring at the floor with wide, frightened eyes. He’s got such delicate feelings, thought Tabby guiltily as Andy gave her a brief hug goodbye. I was so mean to hurt them like that…and Andy’s not exactly making things any easier. Reluctantly, she followed Dean out of the door into the chilly dusk, scattered leaves whipping up at their bitten faces as they made their way down the path. To say Tabby felt nervous about walking home with Dean would be a tragic understatement. Her insides were positively writhing as they trudged through the darkening streets in awkward silence. That strange static was crackling in the air again, and it made her uneasy. She only got this feeling when he was nearby…is it some kind of sign that he’s dangerous? The bizarre thing was, they’d almost been on normal terms the whole day. He hadn’t snarled, he hadn’t shot any harsh words at her - he’d just been…neutral. And the sight of those scars had almost finalised a sort of bond between them. “Dean…” Tabby began cautiously. He swung around, dark brown eyes black as ink in the weak evening light. Their glare was usually malevolent enough to give her the strong will to flee from him - but somehow now they looked soft. They had stopped at the opening to a shadowy alleyway, and her heart began to pound in her throat. “Yes, Tabby?” The way he spoke her name, so quietly without a trace of cruelty, made the tiny hairs that traced her spine stand on end. Her lips suddenly felt very dry and she licked them. “Um…in the church, I couldn’t help but notice…” He’d moved closer. “When you took off your hoodie, I…” His breath felt warm and she shivered, hardly able to draw any air into her lungs as the electricity between them grew unbearable. She swallowed slowly. “I saw your scars.” He visibly paled and took a step backwards. “You prying little-” It was Tabby’s turn to step towards him. “No, listen…I understa-” “You don’t understand a thing,” he spat, hatred renewed as he backed away further down the alleyway. “My scars are no one’s business. Especially not yours.” Tabby couldn’t help but follow him, desperate to make him see sense. “Dean, I’m not trying to judge you…just let me-” “I don’t fucking cut myself, okay?” he snarled, body language defensive as she cornered him at the end of the alleyway. A dim, flickering orange light on the wall created sharp shadows on their faces, and Tabby paused in surprise; Dean was scared. His eyes had grown huge, black strands of his sideswept hair sticking to his forehead. Yet, still, she had to make him see. “For God’s sake, Dean! Won’t you just shut the hell up for once and listen to me?” she hissed, wrenching off her jacket and tugging the wristbands from her arms. Holding him against the damp wall with one arm, she thrust the other at him. “You see those? You’re not the only one, Dean.” He stared at the ugly, deep scars for several long seconds before shoving her away roughly. “I highly doubt they’re there for the same reason mine are,” he growled quietly. Tabby dropped her efforts and felt immediate regret and stupidity for showing him, quickly pulling her jacket back on. Dean was hardly someone she trusted, and to reveal that secret to him…a wave of embarrassment swept over her and she turned her back. Great; now he thinks I self-harm. He caught up with her as she left the alley. “Where are you going?” “Home, where do you think?” she replied sullenly, glancing round. “I can find my own way back. I’m not a child.” He stopped, a very strange expression on his face for a fleeting second before his features set into their familiar, moody arrangement. “Fine,” he mumbled, staring intently at the grimy pavement. “I don’t know why I even agreed to walk you in the first place…” And with that, he began to trudge off in the opposite direction. Tabby stood there and watched him go; only when he rounded a corner and vanished from sight did she regain control of her limbs. Pulling up her hood against the creeping night, she made the rest of the journey alone.
*
He was in the house, she knew it. As she climbed the stairs in the dark, the chilling realisation hit her; he’s back. Oh God, he’s back… She tried to hasten upstairs, but something caught hold of her clothing and she stumbled, kneecap cracking painfully on the edge of a step. Whipping around, she looked up fearfully; and her worst nightmares were realised. That face. That crazed, wild, psychotic face, with eyes that bulged and lips that twisted into a horrible, sadistic sneer. Vomit rose in her throat and she blindly scrambled backwards up the stairs, unable to tear her eyes from him as he followed, sharp teeth bared bloodily. He’d obviously already attacked that night, but was still hungry for more. Tabby felt metal behind her as her shaking legs allowed her to stand, quickly turning the cold handle and slipping through the gap, blood screaming in her ears as she slammed the door and leaned against it with all her remaining strength. But she knew it was useless as three scraping knocks sounded against the wood, his whispered words screeching in her brain… “Tabby, I’m coming to get you…” Tabby shot bolt upright, gasping for air as she grabbed at the covers. Cold sweat was streaming down her back, heart slamming against her chest. Staring blindly around the room, her eyes began to grow accustomed to the darkness and she calmed slightly. Just a nightmare…all just a nightmare…go back to sleep… She reached for the glass on her bedside table and drank shakily as it clanked against her teeth, the cool water flooding down inside her and soothing the pounding fear in the pit of her stomach. Replacing it, she exhaled deeply to steady her breathing and began to snuggle back down under the warm covers, the comforting weight reassuring. The world of sleep had almost claimed her again, breath soft on the downy pillow, when her blood turned to ice in her veins. Knock. Knock. Knock. There was someone at her bedroom door.
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