God and his Angels

Chapter 3: Saved?

3- saved?

The American couple tried the door bell, but received no reply. Their car; broken down and discarded at the bottom of the hill was loud and brash and shiny. The blonde man frowned, and started towards the garden, tentatively his wife followed. All thoughts of trespassing were soon dashed from her mind though when a scream pierced the air, resounding throughout the Scottish moor. It was broken occasionally by a choking sob, but the screamer fought on; wanting the whole world to hear her sorrows.

She broke into a run, trying desperately to reach the child and help her, stop whatever it was hurting her; do something. Her heart broke as she saw a girl barely five feet high collapsed on the floor but screaming, her face was grey and her little arms trembling. Her whole body was shaking pitifully through the worn cotton dress. The lady's heart took another blow as she, one who worked tirelessly on her clothes, noted the faded red pattern, the tears and the stains, a dress that had been made for someone many years younger. She rushed forward, soothing and petting; at a loss of what to do to comfort the poor child. When her hands touched her though the girl screamed, if possible, harder and louder than before. her face turning purple with the exertion. The woman swiftly withdrew her hands; fearing the girl would cause herself injury.

The screams were suddenly cut short, however, and the little girl dropped to the floor unconcious; a little stream of blood starting to flow from her head into the dirt on the ground. Her husband dropped the rock, guilt painting his features. "what?" he said harshly, "she was going to injure herself." the wife pursed her lips and looked away in distaste. Gently he stroked the soft brown hair out of the girl's face. "where is her mother? The poor thing is sick." Frowning the woman lent down. "oh" a look of understanding wiped the worry from her face for a second as she inspected the girl's thighs; exposed by her skirt riding up as she fell. 

The man had gone to inspect the house, he peered into the kitchen, his nose wrinkled in disgust at the smell. "Margo! Come quick! BLoody 'ell" Margo sprung up from the girl and followed her husband inside. A little gasp escaped her as she saw the trickle of dried blood creeping out from under the door. Her scented hankerchief flew to her nose  as the stench followed the blood. "Samuel, what- what is it?" Gingerly Samuel pushed the door, bracing himself against the sight before him. Margo let out a shriek as a host of flies flew up, agitated by the disturbance. "Is that- oh my lord is that a -human- corpse." Samuel nodded grimly,

"I think we found her mother."

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dun dun duuuun.

i had to slip some Americans in there somewhere. Oh if you didn't already guess Phyllis is Scottish and I don't care if she doesn't have a Scottish name, we will live. so this is gonna be my last update for quite a while so I hope you all have a lovely summer :)