Something Wicked.

Work in progress... still havent worked out the POV I want to tell the story so it keeps changing... I am just writing everything down, so it will sound a little muddled and confusing in places.  Hopefully I can go back and unmuddle everything the more I get the feel of the story.

Something Wicked.

Prologue.
18th-Century Inn.  Shepton Mallet, Somerset.

Giles Cannard hurried up the path leading to the Highwayman inn’s back entrance.  In his haste to unlock the door, he dropped the key.  Cursing he picked it back up, with hands shaking so bad it took several attempts to unlock the door,  wrenching it open, and slammed it shut, quickly locking it again. He collapsed in a sigh of relief.  He was safe.  For now.  His heart hammering in his chest and heart beat thundering in his ears.  Giles, hurried on in to the inn, checking windows were shut on his way.
Checking the front door to the inn was also locked, Giles scurried to the liquor and poured himself a generous glass of brandy and downed it in one big gulp, immediately pouring another.
         “You look troubled, friend.”
Giles squealed in shock almost dropping the glass.  Looking to the far corner of the inn he sighed in relief, and hurried over to the man hunched over the small wooden table.
         “They know… they know everything.  And now they wont be happy until blood is spilled.  My blood.”
The man looked at Giles, with a grim smile, his pale face giving him an unearthly glow. 
         “You brought this on yourself Giles.  You had more than enough.  But you were greedy.”
         “I, but I” Giles collapsed in to the chair near the man.  “But you said, You said to take all that I could, that they deserved to lose it all. You told me to do this.”
         “Do you always do what people tell you?” the man snapped. 
Giles felt a cold chill spread over him, as he looked at the mans face, he could have sworn it looked like the mans face was moving, almost like it was a reflection in  water, with ripples moving from his eyes, out to the edges of his face.  The shade of the mans eyes began to change from shimmering blue to a fiercely bright red.
         “What are you?” Giles cried.
         “Giles, who did you think you have been praying to all these years?  Did you really think your sudden success was all down to you?  I just gave you what you asked.  Helped you get what was so rightly yours, from the people in this sorry town.
And now, its time for you to give me what is mine.”
         “What?”  Giles barely whispered, although he already knew.
         “Your soul. It’s mine now, and I have come to collect.”
Sounds of shouting outside the inn, followed by banging at the front door, invaded the room.
         “They are here.” Giles screamed, rushing out of his chair. They want to kill me.
         “I know.”  The man smiles.  “But I can help you.”
Giles looks at the man.  “You want my soul, how can you possible help me.”
         “Taking your soul, it will be quick.  Painless.  Do you think they can say the same thing.  They want you to suffer, Giles, it would be a slow and painful death.”
         “No, no” giles uttered, running to the small room at the back of the inn.
         “What are you doing Giles?”  the man called.
Giles grabbed a coil of rope, and standing on a table he tied the other end to the small rooms exposed ceiling beam.
         “Giles, what you are doing. It is pointless.”  the man says, walking into the room.
         Giles puts a chair under the rope, and stands on it, quickly slipping the noose over his head and around his neck.
         “They aren’t going to kill me.  And you are not going to take my soul.  I will kill myself first.  He kicks the chair, and his body jerks violently as his weight pulls on the rope.
         The man watches for a few seconds, before approaching Giles.  “You fool.” he says, his voice emotionless. He smiles as Giles eyes seem to focus on him, his expression wild, full of suffering and pain.  “This is what I wanted.  Thank you for making this so quick, and easy.  I’ll let the mob in now, after all I did bring them here for a showdown. Shame they missed the best bits.  Oh but one more thing. Do you remember, what you bargained for. The ultimate price in which you sold your soul? Well I’m going to take that too. Maybe not now, he is too young.. But when he is older, he will be mine, and so will his son, and his son after him.”  the mans walked to the door, and paused turning back slightly, “I will say your goodbyes to your son for you, but don’t worry, you will be reunited again.  Soon.” 
         


Chapter 1.
April 2011, Shaftesbury, Dorset

I have been angry with my younger brother for so long.  3 years to be precise.  So angry that I could feel it turning me bitter and twisted from the inside, out.  Of course it didn’t help that the little sod upped and left without a word. It’s like he’d thought, ‘lets see how far I can push her before I do my disappearing act,  I wont let her know where I am.  I wont contact her.’ 
And then, one day out of the blue, there you are. 
And I am angry.
You smile.  Your blue eyes have lost their familiar sparkle, your smile doesn’t seem to reach them.
But I am more than mad at you, words cant describe.
         "Hey Sis," you say.  "How have you been?"
I could throttle you!
Your eyes tear up, blue pools of salty water. 
You hurriedly wipe your eyes, slightly turn away embarrassed.
         "Come in."  I say, stepping back, making room for you to pass me.
You looked grateful, or relieved, I’m not quite sure which, maybe both.  I shut the door.
         "I’ll put the kettle on.  Have you eaten?"
         "It’s been three years, and that’s all you have to say?"
         "Oh I have plenty I want to say, and believe me I am struggling to keep from smacking you upside the head!"  I pause, breathing slowly to control the anger seeping up threatening to take control.
         "Would it help if I told you how much I’ve missed you?"
         "You really do want a thick ear, huh!"
         "I’m sorry for the way I left, that I didn’t contact you, but."
         "But, what Daryl?’
         "It was safer if you didn’t know where I was." 
You cant stop the tears this time, and I feel awkward. I want to hug you, I really do, but the anger, it's still there, holding me back, bitter and twisted.
         "I had to make sure you wouldn’t look for me, and the last three years, knowing you have been hating me, its torn me apart."
I’m confused.  Thinking back I cant really remember what I had been angry with Daryl about, other  than him up and leaving.  Before that is a blur.
         "I’m in trouble, Sis. I know it’s too much to ask, and its totally ok if you tell me where to go, but your all I have left."
         What do you need?"
         "A place to stay, just for a short while till I can sort my head out."
         "Girl trouble, huh.  What’s her name?"
You look startled, and your tear stained face turns a shade paler, if that’s possible, you could have already given Casper a run for his scare factor.
         "Girl trouble?" You whisper.
         "Yeah, Casanova, what mess have you gotten yourself into this time?  You messed with a married woman? You got the husband wanting to smack you upside the head too, huh?"
         "No.  No, nothing like that.  But um, please don’t get angry, well angrier than you already are.  I got married 2 years ago."
My heart stops.  My baby brother,  the most important person in my life, disappears, and comes back a stranger, who has been living life without a second thought for me or how my life has been stood still from the moment he left.
         "That’s just the funniest thing, for a second there I thought you said you got married."
         "I did Sis."
Tears pricked at the back of my eyes and I do not have the strength to stop them.  Rejection now joining the bitter and twisted anger swirling about in my gut.
         "You got married, And not only did you not think to tell me,  you didn’t even want me at the wedding.  You hate me that much?"
We are both crying now.
         "No, Sis. You don’t understand.  Please let me explain."
         "What’s her name.  Can I meet her?"
         "No."
I have never seen anyone look in as much pain. Emotionally, physically anguished. I could physically feel the way you were tearing yourself up inside.
         "She is dead."
You pause, and look at me, straight in the eyes with an air of defiance. 
         "and so is my daughter."
Daughter? Shock vibrating through my body. Daughter!  I was an Auntie?  Could have been an Auntie? I look hard at the broken man in front of me, and cant help but wonder, ‘who the hell are you, and what the hell have you done to my care-free brother?’
         ‘Here.  My wife, Abbey and My daughter Sabrina’
I take the worn photo from you.  ‘She is pretty. They both are.  How did they die? When?’
         “It was, uh, three months ago, and they um, they died waiting for, they died,  They, ”
You collapse into sobs of uncontrollable tears, and I was hugging you in a feeble attempt at comfort before it registered in my head what I was doing. 
         “I have missed you Sis, more than you know.”  you whisper, hugging me so tight, desperate.
I don’t know what to say.  So I just hug you, silently wishing I had the power to take away your pain.
         “When was the last time you ate, slept?”
         “I don’t know, I.  Its, I don’t know what to do, Sis. Help me!  Please!”
         “Of course I will help you.  Anyway I can.“
         “Promise!“
I help you up, and lead you to the spare bedroom.  “Get some sleep.  We’ll talk more when you have slept and eaten, okay.
You collapse on the double bed, looking like you have aged ten years, not three.  A heavy weight on your shoulders showing. I help you undo your laces, and take off your shoes, putting them at the bottom off the bed. As you lie down I turn to leave, but you grab my arm.
         “Sis..”
         “I promise.  Now get some sleep.”


You are asleep by the time I reach the bedroom door.  I get the spare duvet from the airing cupboard and after putting a clean cover on it I tiptoe back in the room and carefully cover you with it. 
I stand back and watch you.  You look troubled even in your sleep.  ‘What have you got yourself into?’ I whisper, a cold chill wrapping itself around me.  I try and shake the feeling off, but it just grips me even tighter.
It takes some effort for me to leave you, I cant help but feel that you are just going to vanish into thin air as soon as I leave the room.  But eventually I get myself moving. I wonder If Basil chicken is still your favourite, and after checking I have the right ingredients, decide to cook it anyway.


I considered phoning Finn, to let him know that my brother had turned up, but wimp out and sent him a txt instead.  Three years ago, my partner and Daryl had got along really well, like brothers really.  But the way Daryl had left, I couldn’t be too sure on how Finn would react with him being back.  I know Finn better than I know anyone, and it’s a safe bet that he is not going to be best pleased.
I check the time, its almost 7pm, Finn would be home from work soon, and Daryl was still asleep in the spare room.
I hear Finns car pull in the driveway, and set about dishing out dinner.  Finn liked to eat as soon as he got in.  I set a plate back for Daryl, I don’t have the heart to wake him.  The smell of the basil chicken made my stomach grumble, I hadn’t realised how hungry I was.
         “Where is he then?” Finn asks, dumping his work bag and coat on the floor, along with a plastic back of rubbish.
         “Finn, seriously! The bin is right there, its just as quick to chuck your rubbish in there as its in chucking it on the floor… and why do you insist that the kitchen floor is a good place to put your coat and bag?”
Honestly, he does it every time, I’m sure he does it just to pester me!  He grabs the bag of rubbish and puts it in the bin, and snatches up his bag and coat, disappearing back into the hallway. ‘nag nag, nag’ he mutters.
         “I heard that!” I call after him.
         “Good, you were meant to”
Finn re-enters the room and pulls me to him, kissing me. 
`          “Now stop avoiding my question.  Where is that brother of yours?”
         “He is asleep in the spare room.”
Finn glances towards the bedroom. 
         “So where has he been? What does he want? How long is he staying for?”
         “I don’t know.” I walk over to the kitchen table and sit down.  “But I do know he is in trouble Finn, and I cant help but feel scared for him.”
         `”Trouble?” Finn asks, worry evident in his voice.  “What kind of trouble?”
I think of his wife and child and shudder.
         “I don’t know.”
Finn joins me at the table.  “Daryl’s favourite.” he sighs moving his dinner plate.  “I’ve missed him, Ruby.”

Daryl and I hadn’t had much of a family to speak of.  Our mother died when Daryl was young. Our Father, well the less we see of him the better. I moved out of my fathers pub as soon as I could and moved in with Finn, I was 16, Daryl was only 13 and it broke my heart having to leave him with father.  But as soon Daryl turned 16 he moved in with us.  Not that he hadn’t spent most of his time with us anyway. The three of us were at one time a very tight group.

         “Finn, I have to tell you something, and your not going to like it. So you have to promised not to get mad.”
         “Just tell me, Ruby.  You have never tiptoed around me before, don’t start now.”
         “Finn is, was married. And he had a daughter.”
You put your knife and fork down, push your plate away from you. Your face suddenly drains of colour, and a pained expression crosses your face.
         “What do you mean, was.  They divorced? couldn’t have been much of a wedding.”
         “His wife and daughter are dead, Finn.  I have never seen my brother like this. Its, I hate seeing him like this.”  Tears escape, trailing down my cheeks, warm, wet.
         “Shit!” 
We are interrupted by shouting from the spare room, and before I realise I am moving, we are both rushing to the spare room.

Daryl is sitting up when we get there, and hitting out at invisible attackers.
         “Daryl, Daryl, it’s a nightmare.” I shout running over, but Finn pulls me back before I reach him.
         “Daryl, wake up.” Finn shouts. “Daryl.”
Daryl stops fighting and his eyes open wide as he falls back onto the bed, his breathing laboured.
         “Sorry.  I.  Sorry.”
I get the feeling it wasn’t Finn or myself that Daryl were apologizing to.
         “Shit”



January 2011 Basildon, Essex

A lot of people had attended the funeral, more than Daryl had been expecting, and he felt touched, at the way everyone had spoken about his daughter, Sabrina and his wife, Abbey.  A lump formed in his throat as he tried to push feelings back. He missed them both terribly, but the feeling of guilt was stronger, and refused to be shaken off.
You can’t run away from your problems, they only follow you, but he had tried, and his family had paid the price. 
He had no choice now, but to return to Dorset.  To try and fix the problem that he had tried so hard to runaway from.
The Ford Cortina was loaded up, already to go.  Daryl watched Abbeys parents, two people who become to mean a lot to him for almost three years, two people that had helped him out when he had needed it most, and he had repaid them by getting their daughter and granddaughter killed.  Guilt wrenched his heart, and Daryl couldn’t bring himself to say good bye.  Instead he climbed into the Cortina, and drove away.

His sister, Ruby was his first stop.  He couldn’t face his father yet.  A conversation he’d had with Abbey played continuously in his mind,

“Do you love him?”
“I guess, He’s my dad.”
“Yeah, but that’s just love by default.”
“Okay, I don’t respect him.  I think he’s an idiot.  He’s the kind of guy that thinks that knocking someone out makes you more of a man than raising a family does.  But other than that, yeah, sure, I love him.”
“I don’t want you to worry about that other stuff.”
“What over stuff?”
“I don’t know, your family.  I’m just saying.  I know you are not your dad.  I know that.”

Daryl had spent his entire life trying to be anything but his father.  He despised him.  But what if it was fate, and no matter what he did, he was still going to end up just like him, a spiteful, obnoxious shell of a man. He was cursed and he knew it, losing his family was the price of trying to cut out on a family deal that stretched back generations. (?)

Daryl parked the Ford Cortina. It was his pride and joy.  (?)His grandfather had bought it in 1982, one of the last made, and had passed it down to Daryl when he had turned 18.  His grandfather hadn’t been a particularly nice man, which is why the gesture of the car had meant everything to Daryl. 

It had taken a while for Daryl to pick up the courage to knock on his sisters door.  He had missed Ruby more than he had thought possible, and as much as he couldn’t wait to see Ruby and her partner, Finn, he knew how much he had hurt them by leaving.  He had thought what he was doing was right, that he was protecting them both by leaving the way he had.  But he now knew that was just wishful thinking.

Knocking on the door, Daryl had a prepared speech circling in his head, but when Ruby opens the door, his mind goes blank, and its almost impossible to keep all the feelings back.  The desperate need for a reassuring hug, and to hear the words, ‘Everything will be alright, you are home now.’ Was too much for Daryl to cope with.
         “"Hey Sis," he finally manages.  "How have you been?"


I grab three bottles beer out of the fridge, and walk into the sitting room, handing one each to Finn and Daryl before slouching on the arm chair. 
I cant even think about how long I had been wishing for this moment.  Three of us together again.  I just wish it was under happier  circumstances.
         “Does dad know you are back?”  I  asked, taking a big swig of drink.
         “No.  Not yet.”
         “So, What happened?”  Finn asked concern filling his face.  “Ruby told me about your wife and daughter.

The look on Daryl’s face near broke my heart., and I  just wanted to give my baby brother a hug, to take away all his pain and suffering.

         I went to see dad the day I  left.  He had phoned that morning, said he needed
to speak to me about mum.  That she hadn’t died the way we had been told, and that
he had lied to us all these years.  At first I thought he was just drunk, but at the same
I had a sinking feeling that there was something else that he wasn’t talking about. So
I went over to The Highwayman Inn.



April 2008, Highwayman Inn Shepton Mallet.

The pub was unusually quiet when I arrived.  My dad was in his usual place behind
The bar, his face had the rosy glow of drinking too much liquor. He spotted me,
and poured me an ale, putting it on the bar as I approached.
         “I didn’t think you were going to show.”  he said, before walking to the pub’s
front door, and locking it.
         “What are you doing?”
         “I need to talk to you, and I don’t want any interruptions.”  he replied returning to his place behind the bar.
         “ Now I have something to tell you, and I know that at first you are not going to believe a word I am going to tell you, and I am, I am truly sorry but you are not going to like what I am going to say.”
         “Just get to the point.”  I huff.  I hated being in the pub, almost as much as I hated being in my dads company.
         “ your mum didn’t die in a car accident.  She was murdered.
I looked at my dad, his words not fully registering.
         “She was murdered because I tried to get out of a deal that my father had made, and his father had made before him.  A deal that goes back generations in our family.
         “I don’t understand.”
A knock on the door interrupts us.  You look annoyed, but get up and approach the door.
         “Leave it.  I thought we were talking.”  I snap.
         “I’m, sorry, I cant ignore him.  He is part of this.”  and he opens the door.
A tall man, dressed entirely in black walks in and as he does the temperature in the room drops to an icy cold, and I get a horrible feeling fill the pit of my stomach.
The man nods at dad, before sitting at the bar, not giving me any attention.
         “What’s going on?”
         “As you know, this pub has been in our family for generations.  Since the 18th century.  Well our ancestor,          Giles Cannard was the owner back then.  It was a time when sheep rustling, and moon raking was common, and he had gotten himself in to some very shady dealings.. Where the pubs sits on a crossroad made it very easy for Giles to steal and scheme on passing travellers and on the locals.  Burt he still wasn’t earning enough, and he made a deal with a (?) demon.  He didn’t really believe what he was doing was actually real, he thought it was just a story  told to him by a drunk.  It wasn’t until the drunk punter actually revealed himself as a (?) demon, and that he had in fact made an unbreakable contract, that he realised that he had been tricked.  The (?) demon had double crossed Giles and informed the local people of Giles’s schemes to rob the town of their money, and they had gone round, blood in their hearts, and Giles hung himself before they got to him.  But this hadn’t stopped the contract, as Giles had unwittingly set it on the his family for generations. The (?) demon, would come for souls when ever he fought fit.