The Witches of Barrow Wood (4 page)

Sam started to cower before his father, which seemed to anger him even more. John shouted out loud, and kicked his boy in the side, and then in a fit of rage, he did it again. Sam started to cry uncontrollably, holding his side where his daddy had struck him. John stood back, in shock at what he had just done, and he felt sick in the pit of his stomach.

“Don’t you tell your mother!” growled John, and then he left room.

John walked down to the fridge and got himself a can of cold lager, and then went to the front room and sat there in silence, thinking. John was on the brink of tears, as he loved his boy, but could not control his temper. He thought about Clare, and what she would think if she ever found out. Minutes passed, and then John put it to the back of his mind, bricked up behind a wall. He found that easier than actually tackling his problem.

Sam was so upset. He loved his daddy so much, and just wanted him to give him attention, and reciprocate his love. He wiped the tears from his little cheeks, and then crawled up into his bed, and then hid under the covers. After a short spell, Sam needed something to comfort him, and so climbed out of his bed to get his favourite book,
The Chronicles of Draylon
, and then he got back into bed and clung on tight to his book, praying for his hero to give him strength.

Clare arrived back home at midday, and it was as if nothing had happened – all appeared to be normal in the household. She prepared lunch for her family and then decided to watch a little television with her husband. The day wore on, the sun went down, and then dusk dominated the sky.

Eldrin was in the wood hunting for breakfast when all of a sudden she had a vision. Since Eldrin had touched Sam, she had formed a link with his thoughts, and she could tap into them anytime she wished. She felt sick, and angry, and she gritted her long yellow tombstone-like teeth. She cursed and spat as she remembered when she and her sisters were beaten senseless as children. Eldrin knew that Sam had been struck by his father, and she knew that he now suffered in silence, and she was going to do something about it. She decided to wait until dark.

The sun had set, and Eldrin made her way through the wood towards Sam’s home. Eldrin could smell Sam’s scent – it was like following breadcrumbs, and she moved with great speed. She eventually came to the edge of the wood, and she looked upon the little village of Barrow. Lights from the cottages shone brightly, illuminating the place, making it seem tranquil and welcoming. Eldrin grated her teeth, dribbling down her chin and onto her long black cloak, and then hurried down the hill towards the home of the Bartons.

Eldrin opened the front door and flew into the front room with lightning speed. Clare immediately stood, and then fell back against the wall, screaming with horror. John was slow to respond, due to being intoxicated, and before he could respond, Eldrin grabbed him by his throat, and thrust him high and hard against the sitting room wall. She came in close to his face, her eyes bulging and bloodshot, and her teeth yellow and crooked, and her pale green distorted face stared into his very soul.

Clare screamed out loud, and Eldrin spun her head to look at her, and then cursed, “Quiet, woman! Or I will silence you.” Eldrin turned her stare back to John, and then lowered him to the floor and placed her hands on his head.

“Fool! Do you not know how lucky you are to have a son that loves you dear? I was beaten as a child, and I’ll be damned if I’ll watch it happen again to a small boy,” shouted Eldrin, at the top of her voice, shrieking so loud that it could pierce your eardrum. “I will show you pain and suffering, then you’ll have perspective, and then if you ever harm a hair on that boy’s head again, I’ll come for you!”

Eldrin channelled her memories into John’s mind, sparing not one detail. She showed him pain, suffering, mutilation and death. John’s expression was one of horror. His skin paled and tears flooded his face.

“Please! Make it stop, make it stop,” said John, whimpering like a beaten dog.

At that moment, Sam ran into the front room, pleading for Eldrin to leave his daddy alone. Eldrin loosened her grip, and then John slumped to the ground. Clare stood back, horrified, but strangely intrigued in the witch’s affection for her boy.

“My work here is done! You have nothing to fear now – stupid boy!” said Eldrin, placing her hand on Sam’s little blonde head.

All of a sudden, Eldrin sensed a dark presence and she stalled, and then said in a whisper, “Oh no… They’re alive.”

It was twilight, and the huntsman had snared two rabbits that he now had slung over his shoulder. He set the last of his traps, and decided that it was time to make his way home, out of the wood, to hang up tomorrow’s dinner in his shed. He took a step, and then screamed at the top of his voice – he had trodden on a trap, and it was not one of his own.

The trap was large, and it had cut deep into his foot, and it overwhelmed him. He reached down to try and prise it open with a nearby stick, and it started to open, but he lost his grip and it slammed shut, cutting deeper still into his foot. The huntsman suddenly felt numb, and the pain went away and his breathing slowed, and then his eyes turned white and he lost his consciousness.

What the huntsman did not know was that the trap had been cursed by the evil twins, long ago. The spell was designed to cause its victim to come straight to them. It was their idea of an easy meal.

The huntsman, unaware of his actions, reached down and forced the trap open. With a bloody limp, he was then compelled to seek out Lisbeth and Grotchin, the evil witches of Barrow Wood. His leg dragged through the woodland, drenching the plantation with his gushing red blood as he went, and he kept on and on, until he came to the resting place of the sisters.

Wasting no time at all, the huntsman dug down with his hands as fast as he possibly could, and after some time, he revealed the sunken body of a very tall, headless woman. He then retrieved a metal box that was buried close by. He smashed the lock open with a large stone, and lifted the head of the evil witch, Lisbeth. He then started to dig out Grotchin, and after some time, he had both bodies laid out on the floor, with their heads placed neatly on top.

The heads gradually started to fuse with the bodies, and strand by strand, the muscle tissue and the blood vessels and the spinal cord all started to reattach. In just a few minutes, both Grotchin and Lisbeth’s eyes opened, and with a loud squeal, they attacked the huntsman, and devoured every inch of him, and drank every last drop of blood. To finish up, they gnawed the last strands of flesh from the bones, and then looked up, sniffing out Eldrin.

Eldrin glanced over at John, “Leave – now! They are coming, my sisters are coming, and they will show not an ounce of mercy. Everyone left in this village will die! You must leave – now!” said Eldrin, summoning every little bit of anger in her to scare the Barton family into leaving as soon as humanly possible.

Eldrin glanced over at little Sam with a glimmer of affection in her eyes, and then she left the cottage at an incredible speed, knocking the front door off the hinges as she left. Clare grabbed Sam by the hand frantically, screaming at John to grab the keys and hurry up and get the car started. John made haste, and in no time at all, they were all in the car, ready to head off to the city. John put the key in the ignition and turned it. The car fired up, and he put the pedal to the metal and shot off as fast as possible, leaving the village of Barrow in the distance.

Clare phoned Belinda, Harry’s mum, and pleaded with her to leave the village at once. Belinda tried to calm Clare down, worried that Clare was having some kind of mental breakdown. Belinda agreed to leave as soon as possible, and when she put the phone down, she just shook her head in disbelief, and then got back to watching TV.

Clare then phoned up Janice Moore, an elderly widow who lived several doors away. Janice listened intently, but then assured Clare that she would be okay, and that if today was the day that she would meet her maker, then so be it. Clare finished the phone call disappointed and upset that no one would take her seriously, but deep down, she understood, as there were few that would believe such a story.

Sam huddled in closely to his mum. Tears rolled down his cheeks, as he wasn’t entirely sure what was going on, and what was going to happen next. Clare caught John’s eye in the rear-view mirror, and they had known each other long enough to read each other’s thoughts. John’s look was one of sorrow – a beaten man pleading for forgiveness for hurting his son. And Clare, as usual, was quick to forgive, as her family meant the world to her.

Neither John nor Clare could believe what they had witnessed in their home. Neither one of them believed that witches could be real – not for one second! Still, they were now running for their very lives from something they believed was a story of fiction. John focused on the road ahead, and he planned not to stop until they reached the city.

Clare picked up her phone as she had almost forgotten to report the incident to the police. The police, finding it hard to take her seriously, said they would send a patrol car to take a look around the village.

They eventually arrived at a hotel and booked in for bed and breakfast. They hoped that the next morning would bring some good news. After receiving Eldrin’s visions, John wasn’t so sure of a pleasant outcome.

Eldrin hurried into the wood, completely unprepared for what she was about to meet. As she neared her home, she proceeded with caution. As her home came into view, she noticed a pile of bones and bits of flesh and blood scattering the doorway to her home – which was open. The ground had been dug up, and her sisters no longer lay in them. She heard a cackle, and then froze, as she saw her sisters walk out of her home.

Lisbeth led the way. She bent over as she came through the doorway, and then stood tall. Grotchin followed shortly behind. Eldrin felt fear for the first time in many, many years. She had forgotten how tall her sisters were, and they towered at about six foot and three inches tall.

Lisbeth and Grotchin were practically identical, apart from the grot on Grotchin’s chin. They were skeletal-looking, with filthy pale green skin. Their eyes were bulbous, grey and extremely bloodshot. Their noses were crooked, their lips were thin and dark, and their fingernails were large and razor sharp, and shaped like a parrot’s beak. They both wore long black cloaks with a hood, and they were absolutely saturated with mud, and the blood of the huntsman. Their hair was long, dark and wet, and it hung across their ugly, deformed faces.

Lisbeth stared into Eldrin’s eyes with contempt, and a bloodlust that could never be satiated. Meanwhile, Grotchin slipped behind Eldrin, and then she grabbed her hair and tore it savagely, whilst at the same time stabbing her claw-like nails into her spine. Lisbeth saw her chance, and with an axe that she had hidden behind her, she swung at Eldrin’s neck, slicing her head clean from her shoulders, and then smiling as her body and head fell thumping to the ground. Lisbeth shrieked out loud, and her evil cry echoed through the woodland.

“Ready to do some hunting, sister?” said Lisbeth, in a tone that was both high-pitched and raspy.

“Do you need to ask?” said Grotchin, with a sickly grin.

The sisters made their way through the woodland, and the only light was that from the moon. Lisbeth was uttering dark magic as she walked, enjoying the way the evil words slipped off her tongue. Grotchin set the scene with some fanciful spells, causing mist to fill the woodland floor, and a large black crow to land on her shoulder. They exchanged glances, and smiled, at the thought of the slaughter they were about to inflict. It excited them both, causing adrenaline to course through their veins, making them feel alive. Their bodies craved sustenance, in the form of human flesh.

They eventually came to the edge of the wood, and they looked down upon the little village of Barrow. They were a little taken back by the advances in technology since their last reign, but it didn’t bother them – all they wanted to do was kill. It was that simple.

What Lisbeth and Grotchin did not know was that in Eldrin’s last moments of lucidity, she had cast a spell that would ensure the reattachment of her head to her body. Eldrin’s headless bloodied body started to crawl along the muddy ground, dragging itself along in search of its head. Her hands clawed at the ground and then heaved her heavy body along. The hands started to feel the earth frantically until they finally had a hold on the head, and it was bloody, with flesh shredded and draping due to the damage from the old axe. Eldrin placed her head to her body. Minutes passed, and then her eyes opened. Eldrin choked back into existence, and she knew exactly what she had to do.

She ran into her home and pulled out a rather large book, which she had hidden behind her bed. The book was bound with the skin of seven different people, and it was stitched with hair torn from its victims’ heads. Inside, the book contained the darkest magic known to any witch – so dark, infact, that even witches thought twice about uttering the spells, fearing the repercussions.

Lisbeth let out a hideous cackle, and then made her way towards the village with Grotchin at her side.

Janice Moore was seventy-nine years of age, and had been widowed for ten years now. Her late husband, Peter, had died of a heart attack due to blocked arteries. Janice imagined it was the pot of cream he had every night before he went to bed that caused it. At first, life seemed impossible for her without Peter, but eventually she found other things to occupy her mind, like reading, and a nice cup of tea and a slice of cake.

Janice was having a perfect day. She had just finished reading
The Alchemist
, and she had baked some sponge cakes and filled them with cream and jam, and there was plenty on the television to keep her occupied, too.

As the evening drew on, Janice started to feel a little tired. Despite her appetite for cakes, she was a mere eight stone, and her body never had much strength these days. She switched off the television and took her cutlery out to the kitchen. As she put the empty plates and dishes into the sink, she thought to herself that she must get a smaller place sometime, as she found it tiring looking after her two-bedroom detached cottage. Janice looked up suddenly, certain that her front door had just opened, so she made her way into the front room.