Hope you like it. Its just the first chapter so far but i have a few others. please review (: please and thankyou
Chapter 1
One ruthlessly cold English day in the Autumn of 1926 a rather important child was born, into a rather unfortunate family. The Lynch family were not unfortunate in the way the word, unfortunate would perhaps predominantly imply; their bank accounts were brimming and their properties stood at no less than seven, however; the Lynch family were extremely selfish people. Mr Rupert Lynch’s tiny brain was abundant with thoughts of pride, selfishness and most of all, greed. Mr Lynch was a large man with an immensely bulky face which often resembled a great red tomato at times of particular fury. His wife on the other hand was an exquisitely pretty dainty lady with chocolate brown eyes who was admired by the town’s men perpetually- although they always made sure not to wolf whistle when her husband was around as his temper was well known to get the better of him. It was often a topic of gossip to the town as to why such a wonderfully beauteous woman- would involve herself with such a cantankerous dissimilar man, but was questioned no further when Mr Lynch had unintentionally overheard a conversation of great similarity, and had shrieked animatedly at the two elderly woman, who still quivered at the remembrance of his flared, bulging nostrils.
As for their newborn son; it remained a matter of considerable doubt whether the child would survive to bear any qualities at all as he was so very gaunt and skinny; however his mother most definitely would not survive the night.
Mrs Amelia Lynch gazed admirably at the white woollen bundle that held her most recent child and her first ever son. She craned her neck forward slowly and beset her cold white lips passionately on the baby’s forehead. She then lay upon the baby one last saddened squint, lay back on the white silk pillow and closed her eyes. Her lung heaved a breath and she lay unconscious with her child still in her arms.
“And as I was saying” voiced Mr Lynch demandingly as he strode into the room with Doctor Jones, (a man well known for his high prices) “I want you to stay here at least overnight. My darling Amelia needs the best care possible. See, she looks rather pa-”. Mr Lynch’s voice faltered as he set his tiny grey eyes unknowingly upon his wife’s near dead figure. He rushed towards the bed. His heart hammering against his ribcage as he lay his middle and index finger on the supple skin of her neck.
“She- she, oh dear god no!” he whispered. He bent over her head. Her mouth looked clear, so he pressed his to hers and blew a lungful of air into it. Her limp body twitched and her chest expanded. Her lips tasted like blood.
“You stay with me now, Amelia!” he yelled at her. “Do you hear me? Stay! You’re not leaving me!” The doctor quickly took the child and lay him in the cot and hurried over to watch- too timid to disturb the pained man. Mrs Lynch opened her eyes slowly and lifted a weak hand.
“His name is Peter” she croaked in a broken whisper. She blinked and then stared, finally seeing something. And then she gasped, whether she was gasping in pain or trying to find air, Rupert did not know, all he knew was that he would not let her die, he couldn’t. His eyes flickered cruelly to the cot that held his son and he roared tumultuously. By the time he looked back at his wife her eyes had closed.
With a last dull ga-lump, her heart faltered and went silent. She missed maybe half of one beat and then his hands were on her chest doing compressions. He counted in his head trying to keep the rhythm steady. One. Two. Three. Four.
Breaking away for a second, he blew another lungful of air into her. Mr Lynch’s eyes were wet and blurry. But he was hyperaware of the sounds in room. The unwilling glug- glug of his wife’s heart and the unruly howling of the evil child that was responsible. One. Two. Three. Four. He forced more air down her throat.
“Take the baby” Mr Lynch choked, “throw it out of the window!” Doctor Jones remained stationary, an icily cold chill racing down his spine but he did not move towards the baby. Surely Mr Lynch was just angry- this was his son?
He pumped harder at her chest, but soon realised there was no one there. The only people in the room were him, the doctor and the demon child. The blood in her heart was thickening. Congealing. Mr Lynch stopped suddenly in defeat.
“Doctor” he spoke in a soft quiet voice.
“Yes sir” he replied warily, his heart palpitating in his head.
“My wife has been murdered!”
