Banshee Angel Of Judgement

  BANSHEE

  By Billy Young

  She was the banshee, who sought revenge against those she saw as guilty and deserving of imprisonment in her jar. She had called down the curse on those that sent her to her death, falsely accused of witchcraft. Now she looks for new souls to add to her collection of tortured spirits. At night she would go forth from her derelict cottage to hunt the unwary and now she has her sights set on another two victims to fill her with new power

  COPYRIGHT 2008 © William Young

  COVER BY W. Young AND C. Young

  Smashwords Edition

  ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

  ISBN: 978-1-4523-1107-4

  All characters, event and places are fictional and any resemblance to any real people, places or events is purely a coincidence.

  This e-book is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This e-book may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each person you share it with. If you’re reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, then you should return to Smashwords.com and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

  To those that read this book, it’s dedicated to you; I hope you enjoy the story within.

  Other books by Billy Young:

  A Winter Journey

  Teddy the Bear

  Prologue

  14th May 1968

  Mandy pulled down on the handle of the hammer prising the cross from the wall. It fell to the floor, leaving its ghostly shadow behind on the wall. It bounced once noisily echoing in the little basement. She had thought they had removed the many crosses from the house but found this one in the cellar on the wooden wall that supported the stairs that led down into the basement as she explore this small underground room.

  “Mandy are you down there!” Frankie called down the stairs.

  “Yeah I’m just coming!” She shouted back to her boyfriend as she straightened up after retrieving the Christian symbol from the dirt floor. She looked along the wall, she had expected a door to a cupboard yet there had been none. She quickly raced up the stairs to the bare room above, her maxie skirt allowing her ease of movement as her sandals flip-flopped on the stairs, which they planned to make into their kitchen as it had once been in the past.

  “What were you doing down there?” Frankie asked. He was dressed just as casually as his girlfriend but in corduroy trousers and a woolly over sized jumper with a zigzag pattern just below the shoulders running across the body of it.

  “Just checking it out. I found this on the wall by the stairs,” she handed Frankie the rough wooden cross.

  “I thought we’d got rid of all of them, well it will do for firewood,” he said as he broke it in two, dropping it by the old deep sink with its pump handled facet.

  “Why do think there were so many?” Mandy furrowed her brow.

  “No idea,” Frankie shrugged his shoulders, “maybe it was to keep the ghost at bay.”

  “Don’t, you know that sort of thing scares me,” Mandy hadn’t wanted to move into the old house in the woods because it was said to be haunted; only agreeing after all her friends had convinced her there was nothing in the old stories about the cottage, though she still had reservations that she now kept to herself.

  “We’re supposed to be meeting the others down the pub for beers,” Frankie smiled broadly at the scolding looks from the slender figure before him.

  “Yeah, I just thought I hadn’t seen the cellar so wanted to have a nose,” she explained as they turned to head down the long hallway past the two facing doors half down the passageway, one leading to the front room whilst the other allowed access to the stairs to the upper floor, towards the front door to meet up with their three friends.

  Below in the cellar behind the wooden wall the banshee, trapped for so long, knew her imprisonment was over. With those hated symbols removed she was free now to leave the place she now called home in search of vengeance against those foolish enough to have released her. All that stopped her now was the light of day; darkness would come soon enough though.

  “Soon,” she said aloud without noticing she had spoken. She thought about the joy she would have with fresh souls to play with. She wandered over to a jar that sat on a granite plinth sticking out of the stone outer wall. She stroked it mischievously watching her ensnared collection of damned souls that had made her who she now was. She felt like screaming out her mournful cry but saved it for she guessed she would need its full force before the night was out.

  The years locked away in the confined space had taken a great toll on her as each day melted into the next. She had lost track of how long it had been since last she had called out her wailful song in the moonlight, sending a chill into any who heard it. Now she could once again bring fear and death to those who wandered her woods during the hours of dark.

  It was when the old teacher moved into her home in the early nineteenth century, heedless of the warnings that it was haunted, that the banshee had been made the captive. The old teacher had workmen brought in from other towns to sort the place up for her. Helen had tried to scare them off but somehow the old hag had a way of getting them back or finding others to do the work she required.

  It was the old schoolmistress who had the room boarded over and a cross placed on every door in the small cottage, locking her behind the wall. It was that old hag that was a true witch, able to imprison the banshee for over a hundred and fifty years as people came then left hurriedly; complaining of strange wailing noises, the only thing the banshee had left to chase them off with.

  As time went on she heard less people moving into her dwelling so she contented herself with her jar of souls. Those trapped within grew weaker as she drew her strength from them so she could screech her mournful cry for them, to remind them of the wrong they had done in life.

  Night came releasing her from the cell into its embrace. She couldn’t wait to drift through the sweet darkness, between the trees, her senses unable to cope at first with all the things it perceived and she had missed. Slowly she found focus as the long-haired ones returned to her home, as if they could claim it from her.

  She waited till they had settled in for the night then drifted back to the cottage. The banshee studied the old structure as she waited for them to go to bed. She finally saw the lights being extinguished so quickly approached, as she knew it would soon be dawn so had to be quick in collecting these spirits or they might escape her clutches.

  She struck out at the three sleeping soundly in the old parlour deciding not even to wake them so as not to alert those in the large upper room. She took their souls for her collection without feeling, no time to enjoy her chosen calling.

  Mandy woke knowing something wasn’t right so she shook Frankie to half consciousness. “What is it?” He queried blearily, wishing only to get back to the blissful dream he’d been enjoying.

  “I don’t know, I’ve just got a feeling that’s all,” she answered looking around the dark room for some sign of what had roused her.

  “Oh,” he said coming too at the notion of some action as her naked form brushed against his, “really.”

  “Not that kind of….”

  Her words was cut short as the ghastly twisted form of the screaming, hellish banshee rose out of the floor like an insidious plant growing out of the soil to steal the life from all around.

  Mandy didn’t wait as the thing turned with that soul chilling scream filling the last of the night. She rolled out of the bed and left Frankie to the thing as she rushed for the small window, fear driving her through it without stopping. The small square glass panes s
licing her flesh, as they gave as her weight forced its way through them.

  She landed hard onto the broken glass covered ground, chilly air all the more noticeable in her naked state. She pushed herself up then began to run as fast as her injuries allowed as the blood oozed from her wounds. She thought she heard the creature coming behind her, a child like whimpering accompanying it as it came for her. Mandy felt it turn to head back where it had come from as the sky lightened and she turned to head down the hill into the town.

  Mandy kept going though afraid that if she stopped that it might return. She ran until she collapsed from exhaustion as well as the loss of blood. When they her found lying on the main street, that ran through the small town, she was barely alive but alive she was. She never told anyone what she remembered pretending to have amnesia to avoid the questions of what had happened, though the police had many they had wished she would answer. Eventually everyone stopped asking though the gossip remained.

  Soon after she left the hospital she had been taken to, she also left the town she had always known as home.

  Chapter 1

  Andy trotted after Micky, after colleting his bag from his locker. “Slow up,” he called after his work colleague.

  “You’re a bit slow tonight; you’d think you’d actually done some work today,” Micky smiled at the younger man.

  Micky was nine years older than Andy and this was his sixth year working for Lyndon’s Castle Theme Park. Over the past two weeks both men had been working to get the park prepared for the new season after it being closed for the winter. They were tasked with all the small jobs around the park that maintenance didn’t have time to do.

  “I didn’t think there would be as much to do as there is,” the young student said wearily. At eighteen this was his first job, a chance to earn a little money before he went to college. He stood taller as well as thinner than the stocky form of Micky. Both men wore similar faded jeans, heavy sweatshirts under their jackets and muddy trainers covered their feet.

  “Well it gets easier once the park opens, then you’ll find half the time you’re just standing about bored out your skull,” Micky smiled warmly at the new start as they exited the cabin that acted as the staff canteen and locker room.

  Outside the late March sun sat low in the cloudless sky as the two men made their way through the gates that separated the cabin from the public part of the park. Onto the main thoroughfare that ran the length of the park, they turned left heading for the rear gates and the back road to the town of New Mills where they called home.

  “What’s it like when it’s busy?”

  “That’s when the fun starts,” Micky liked it best when it was mobbed with customers. “With some of the punters you get a real scream.” He chuckled to himself at the thought.

  “What if they’re kinda, you know, eh…” Andy was unsure if he could deal with a difficult customer.

  “Just let them do most of the talking, which they always seem to do but don’t smile, that just makes them worse,” Micky acted as if he were the fountain of knowledge yet knew every situation was different.

  “I don’t know what I’d do if somebody were shouting at me, especially if it wasn’t because of something I did,” Andy smiled nervously.

  “You’ll be fine just remember to have fun,” Micky had said this to others on previous years though few seemed to get into the spirit of the job as he did. He felt Andy would, he seemed to have that glint in his eye that said he like a good joke.

  “Yeah I heard you all talking at lunch. You didn’t really tell the customers they could fall out the Wheel of Death, did you?” Andy grinned widely at the idea of it. The ride he was talking about was up near the log flume at the top end of the park and the rear gate that they now approached.

  “Well, there was a black bag in one of the trees and it looked a bit like a jacket flapping in the breeze,” he giggled at the memory of that summer. Most had taken it well laughing away at the joke; some though had been frightened enough without the prospect of being left clinging to a tree.

  “I’d never have the nerve to do anything like that,” Andy wished he did.

  “Once you get into it, you’ll find it easier if you do have a laugh with the folks going on the rides,” Micky reassured Andy.

  They stayed not far from each other in New Mills, so had known each other in passing, because of this it made sense to walk to and from work together.

  “Maybe,” Andy looked sullenly down at the ground as they left the park by the so called back gate as there was no gate, just two fence posts with the wood beyond.

  They passed into the long shadows cast by the large mature trees that overhung the narrow back road that local teenagers used to sneak a free day in the park during the summer. Often they would cause trouble leading them to get caught but it didn’t stop them coming back.

  “The best ones are usually the old women as they just love a good laugh.”

  “So what you got planned for tonight?”

  “Nothing much, watch a bit of telly with the girlfriend,” Micky answered. “And you?”

  “I’ve got a bit of revision for an exam after the Easter break.” Andy was supposed to be at home studying during the past couple of weeks whilst he’d been working at the park. The chance to earn some extra cash though had been too great an opportunity.

  “So you’ve got plenty of time then.” Micky pulled his jacket collar more tightly round his neck as it was chilly in the shadowy wood even though the day had been reasonably warm for the time of year.

  “Yeah but it’s a lot to take in so I need as much revision as I can get,” Andy tried to sound cheerful though he’d be happier when it was all over with even if he was sure that he could pass it without much effort.

  “I’m sure you’ll sail through it,” Micky tried to encourage his young friend.

  “I hope so,” Andy raised his eyebrows as he said this; then gave a half grin. He reached into his pocket finding his mobile, his fingers played with it though he didn’t take it out knowing there was little point as there was never any reception in the woods.

  They continue, in silence for a short while, along the straight narrow forest road as the sun began to touch the hidden horizon behind the trees. The bluebells swayed as a fresh breeze played amongst the branches of the trees be speckled with new buds ready to explode into the greenery of the not to distant summer.

  Micky’s bag moved noisily on his back echoing loudly as the plastic sandwich box bumped against a cup, breaking the quiet peace of the wood. He hoisted it up on his shoulder keeping one hand on the strap to stop it from bouncing around so much.

  Ahead an old dilapidated stone cottage with part of its roof missing appeared in the gloom of the forest. Andy looked nervously at the eerie exterior, as the windows seemed to watch as the two men carried on their way. The trees appeared to try to hide the old house, with so many secrets, from view. The small front garden was over grown and the small window of the attic room was glassless.

  “That place always gives me the willies,” Andy said with a great exaggerated shiver as if to emphasise how he felt.

  “What, the old witchy house,” Micky teased knowing Andy wasn’t alone in that thought, though he thought it was just something made up to keep the local kids from playing around the old house.

  “Yeah,” Andy would never have come this way by himself so close to nightfall “you’ve heard the stories?”

  “Of course but just cause some hippies away back in the sixties freaked out on acid doesn’t make it haunted,” he chuckled at the thought of the old tale of the drug overdosed hippies being attacked by some sort of evil ghost. He could just picture it in his mind as they got the restless spirit mashed on a big spliff.

  “What about all the other stuff that’s happened over the years,” Andy said in a hushed tone afraid that the thing that dwelled in the house, if it were real, might hear.

  “Like?” Micky looked slyly up at his young companion, who took the bai
t.

  “There’s the fact that a witch used to stay there,” Andy said then realized he was being goaded for the third time that week and smiled as he shook his head whilst his older friend gave a hearty laugh. “Yeah, yeah okay, I know there’s no such thing,” Andy said feeling stupid at his own feelings of discomfort about the old building.

  Chapter 2

  She watched the two men as they passed from the upper floor through the attic window. ‘Soon,’ she thought thinking of the revenge she planned to exact on the shorter of the men for his using her home as a latrine. ‘How dare he?’ Her cold white eyes glared angrily as the smaller man laughed out loudly, the warmth of it made her flesh crawl.

  It was about time to remind the locals of her presence, to show them that this was her property. It had been too long since last she tasted the fear in someone’s scent as they realized she was more than a myth made up to scare people at Halloween.

  The last time long haired fools had thought they could insult her by moving into her ruined dwelling. Though they had released her from many years of imprisonment she still felt little in the way of compassion towards them. It had cost them their souls which she kept hidden in a jar on a stone plinth in the cellar, in the dark secret room hidden by a wooden wall put up to trap her over a hundred fifty years before.

  During the day, concealed in her underground place she often heard their tiny voices pleading to be released only to find her ears deafly uncompassionate. She’d smile at their whimpering as she remembered those first glorious years as she stalked the unwary through her woods, punishing those that dared to trespass; she would add to their number soon, as she had added those to her collection who had in life condemned her wrongly to death.