The Death Of William Bristowe

Light from a lone lamp shone across an expansive wooden table. Close to its light sat a man reading. He sat silent, his fingers traced pages of a worn out book, its creased binding and stained pages attested to its age. It was apparent that passages within were illegible, validating him having to squint his eyes whilst holding it high towards light. Four men sat in silence with their gaze fixated towards a crisp white sheet which hid another man. Except unlike the others his heart was silenced.

He read the journal only to himself. For what he read in that journal was beyond human cognition; meaningless when presented to a room full of reserved individuals. Darkness flooded through narrow openings and submerged within a low ceiling room. Flowing through windows and inviting night tunes. An enchanting yet plaintive chorus echoed through; produced by purrs of wild cats, soft calls of night birds and distant howls of wolves. Sounds danced to their ears but soon after ceased. For nothing of impractical value could enter their barred minds. By this, it was evident they were all lawyers of high trade. The man in possession of the journal was a coroner. His dressy attire attested to his position. He slipped it inside his breast pocket, and closed any spaces between his feet. It was time for an inquest.

The door slide open. Welcoming a girl. Dusk brown locks curled at her shoulders; almost blending in against her slack ebony frock. She stumbled on a seat; parting both lips as air force out of her mouth. Brittle finger bones tremor as she struggled to sign a signature.

“Ah Miss Jenner you have arrived, we have been waiting for you. Shall we get on with business?”

She nodded in agreement, adding

“I didn’t mean to evade. I’m only here to clarify the situation. What I will say is nothing but truth. I know I am under oath.”

His lips creeped outwards into a smile.

The men removed their hats. A witness was sworn.

"What is your name?" the coroner said.

"Tracy Jenner."

"Age."

"17."

"You knew William Bristowe."

"Yes."

"You were with him when he died."

"Near him."

"What were you doing?"

“We were shooting near his house. A tradition every fortnight.”

*****

Tracy signalled William to retreat. Sunlight lowered over them. William jogged east, with Tracy behind him. He knew of a shortcut almost like a catalyst to accelerate their journey home. Tracy broadened her eyes in attempt to watch for night creatures. They could crawl up behind their prey and pounce; claiming their victim. Or at least that’s what she learned from horror flicks. Their immediate vision filled with darkness, but they proceeded. The other option was to set up camp, but given Tracy’s ‘all thing phobia’ it was dubious. William stopped his trek.

Blood sprayed across trees and puddled on the ground beneath their feet. Goosebumps cruised through their insulated jackets. Their mouths gaped; allowing a rich metallic sensation to enter into their oral cavity. Silence echoed though and encapsulated the scene. Tracy’s hands shook in an inexplicable motion. Her stomach clenched inwards and she jerked away from William.

Tracy scanned around. A strange feeling of paranoia bothered her thoughts, as if someone or something was watching. Except there was no one there except darkness. An overwhelming aura of déjà vu erupted inside her head. It was like her memory was blocked off and tried to return in gashes. The location, blood and even William being there seemed like a lost memory, waiting to be collected before emptying again. William still stood in his original position, moving his fingers in a tense motion again and again. Amidst the chaos, he comforted her. A silent saviour; even when they were young there was a tall geese that towered over her head, and she awaited a final peck into her eyes. He jumped in front with a toy gun and pretended to be a top spy. At present his expression sported a permanent frown.

She remembered their first date. His cologne diffused into his jet back suit, complete with a red bow tie centred on his collar. Throughout the night their laughter paralleled each other’s and his undeniable grin comforted her. William now resembled a child who had experienced their first nightmare. Vulnerable. In that moment she also noticed a wound on his neck.

A deep bloodied pit carved into his pale delicate skin. Sharp strands of shredded muscle bordered his raw flesh. Stabbing at his innards. His crisp white cervical bone wrenched out and exposed a tenebrous void cavity. Heavy bursts of blood force out of his skin and onto her. She gaped as burning dense fluid exuded between her bony fingers.

Tracy stepped back and her stomach clenched inwards; forcing her to fall. What happened next had her question sanity. She leered at his neck and saw nothing but his usual pale skin glistening in ebony expanse. He turned towards her.

“Whatever did this…”

Tracy burrowed her brows. Williams’s character, voice, tone screamed determination. He turned toward her and put his hands on her shoulders. His innocent blue eyes transformed into a dark storm. Just as she collected her thoughts, William planted a kiss onto her lips and sprinted into pitch black scenery.

Her fingers rubbed her forehead in circular motions; a slight massage. After a while its effect wore off and reality slithered in. She found herself alone and isolated within a strange forest; without a slightest clue of how to get home, or how to find William. William had left her. A cavernous pit formed within her stomach. On impulse she bolted straight into forest.

Blood splashed beneath her feet with every leap into nothingness. Her conscious screamed. Telling her to turn around and retreat to safety, but she went on. It’s imprinted within humans to run towards trouble; to fight. Sounds of twigs snapping, leaves budding against each other became louder and louder, as if the source was getting closer. Charcoal infused into cold air was a constant reminder of the firehouse her and William spent winter nights in. A distinct feeling of déjà vu once again clouded her thoughts. Something was chasing her. Tracy’s breaths became shorter and more concise as she accelerated forward. No use. It was too fast. She jumped bac and blood pumped into her fists. It was only a deer and it wasn’t chasing her. Instead it was running away.

She halted at an opening. Vision failed her. There towards her right, a narrow silhouette, fixated into its position. It was like a scarecrow pinned against an invisible backing. Only this scarecrow was a victim. Tracy sauntered towards the impeccable shadow. Realisation struck; it was William. In attempt to reach him, she crawled towards him, with each step her soles became heavier as if weighed down by hefty stones. They scarped against her feet, scratching her delicate skin, going on until all movement terminated. She watched as an observer, William’s paralysed body impaled on a mahogany stake.

A concentrated black aura surrounded his body. Like shadows dancing around their prey. However it moved in inexplicable ways. Nothing before had affected her like it was. Odd thing was that it all felt familiar; like everything before. As the aura closed in on him, she felt her chest tighten. Her diaphragm cramped as if she was strangled with firm hands. She gasped for air, swallowing every bit she could. A final struggle caused her to collapse and she dug her nails into claylike dirt as a means of securing herself. Metallic eyes glistened in shadows and circled William’s body.

“William.” She said as she smashed her hands onto the ground.

All sounds travelled right through his ears; his mind was no longer able to function. The shadows got closer and closer. This time William moved. He turned towards Tracy with his nose was lifted upwards and his mouth turned down in a ferocious manner. William reached into his pocket and retrieved his hunting gun; pointing it towards Tracy. A bullet missed her only by a narrow distance. Before any smoke cleared away; a loud savage cry pierced into her ears. It was like the scream of a wild animal.

She could’ve never prepared herself for such a sight. William stuck down upon one knee with his head thrown aback at a frightful angle. His hair was flattened and his whole body jerked in violent movement from side to side, backward and forwards. The wound was there again but his time it was fresh.

Whatever had done this wasn’t finished. A shriek signalled round two. An invisible force began to pluck at him, ripping out bits of his flesh, starting at his torso and making its way to his throat. Blood spurted out of his eyes dripping down the edges of his ruptured jaw. Half of his jaw was then pushed back. Making a cracking noise. The area smelt of burnt copper. Sounds screamed through Tracy’s ears, stabbing her eardrums. Until it stopped. She ran towards William who was dead.

*****

“Give me a recount of what happened Miss Jenner.”

“A large man sized deer popped up behind him and struck him in the back.”

Tracy cupped her face with her palms and tried to force out tears.

The coroner rose from his seat.

“You are all dismissed”.

He was alone with her.

“May I ask you a question.”

Tracy looked up anxious, “Yes sir”.

“Did you kill him?”

Tracy’s tightened her cheeks.

“How could you ask that? I loved him”.

The coroner slid a journal out of his coat pocket and raised it to her head.

“This belonged to him. There were entries after the date of his death. Now I’m not saying that I believe in spirits but if I did I can tell his one isn’t in peace. What struck me even more, were the short and cryptic messages all guided towards you. He blames you for his death. Saying that you were given a second chance. A deal with the shadows.”

She collected her thoughts before finally speaking

“I believe I am at liberty to go”.

Tracy departed the room and walked away. She felt a temperate tap on her shoulder and turned around to see who did it. No one was there only darkness.

* * * * * * *

A few months before

He scowled at a girl sulking in the utmost corner of her bedroom. A veiled face, cupped with feeble hands, like glass reinforcing stone. Mellow eyes peeked out and examined a man’s photo that was disposed on her bedside table. Her eyes twitched in attempt to hold back tears which inundate her. Sharp thoughts race like blades in her head; stabbing the sides and exposing the delicate tissue within. She traced her hands around a polished metallic object which remain cradled between her legs.

“I’ll be with him soon.” she said.

She couldn’t see him, but he was there. Watching her every action like a hawk sentries its prey. A shadow soared over her head. There was nothing but darkness leering at her. Her chest constricted, forcing her to jerk forward onto his feet.

“Do you want to make a deal?” he said.

She shifted her gaze in the voices’ direction.

“Yes, bring William back. You promised,”

A grin formed upon his face, not because of her agreement but her naivety. Once death was written in the book, no shadow could bring a soul back. It was the cycle of life to which adherence guaranteed order. Chaos never hurt. This is not to say that the chapter of the deceased life is closed. It may be opened again but only temporarily before slamming again. The sequential deaths would be worse. The price paid for rebirth. She couldn’t have known this, after all she made a deal in ebony.