Mortal End: A Simmering Pit of Jiggery Pokery

Chapter One

Fumbling with the buttons, Ænus P. Wordsworth attempted to do up his fly with sclerotic and gnarled up fingers, as he made his way to the Rectory door. 

The iron bolt screeched like a bird of prey as it was drawn home making him wince and set his decaying teeth on edge.  Pulling the heavy, creaking portal towards himself, using only a fraying leather cord, Ænus was altogether blinded by a flash of lightning against the midnight black sky as he opened the door a suspicious fraction.  The jagged bolt was forking energetically off the crooked crucifix atop the steeple of the Mortal End village church, only feet from where he was standing.

Ænus jumped with the shock and in doing so he let go of the solid wooden door, which swung heavily back into his home letting all the heat from the lively fire escape around him as he stepped out towards the source of his consternation. Initially it was a shrill yelp that had managed to get his attention away from the task in hand, which had now led him out amongst the Shields of Death – the headstones of those who had passed from the beginning of Mortal End's conception to this day's damp morn, when ol' Grand-Pappy Joyner had been lowered in a carton fit only for a pig.

"Who's there?" he asked impatiently, his voice a reedy whine.  Ænus P Wordsworth was not a man to be frightened by shadows.  He had faced the dark side of life and had come out scathed but alive.  Cupping his hands around his lipless mouth, he shouted out, "Who's there," once more, but this time defiantly.

Silence.

A rumble of thunder picked up to the east of Mortal End, smothering all local sounds and drenching Ænus to the bone.  His once red and buoyant hair was now plastered to his elongated head; taking inches off his already curtailed development, bringing him now to his full height of only four feet and eleven inches.  Normally, his stovepipe hat would have ameliorated this lack of growth - in his own misshapen head if nowhere else.

Abruptly turning his drooping back on the tombs and pits, Ænus leaned with all his strength against the heavy oak door which had silently and heavily closed shut behind him and fell once more into the devilish heat of his abode.

Ænus sat soddenly down on his crumpled divan and began to poach from the incinerating blaze that was emitting from his fireplace.  Sour perspiration and tart steam peeled upwards in yeasty ribbons from his lean being and wafted heavenward whilst he planked and fell into a malodourous slumber from the lack of oxygen in the air.

Suddenly, there came an excited rap on the door.

"Rector-so-sorry-to-disturb." 

Ænus was now in a middle-aged sloom and it would take more than his gravedigger's rapping to awaken him.

"Sir, please, Sir – there's a great fire and it's headed this way." No response. "Rector, it is I, Savant Poe.  There is a great fire and it is headed this way," he repeated getting more and more high pitched with each word rapidly uttered.

As if he had all the time in the world Ænus P. Wordsworth leisurely gathered himself and sat up.

Using gravity to propel him forwards off the bed, Ænus arthritically shuffled to the great door once more and with an effort let his gravedigger into the rectory.

"What IS this great fire, Poe?  Surely it is only a small blaze caused by the lightning striking brushwood in the forest?  The rain will smother it, soon enough."

© 2003 Toula Mavridou-Messer All rights reserved. ***Mortal End, Too is the second novel in the Mortal End series. There is an excerpt available on Wattpad to give you a taste of the storyline. I will post chapters regularly, but there are as yet unknown chapters, so this may take a while. You can sign up for my newsletter, follow me on Twitter (Princess Toula), or like my Facebook page. For more information, see my Amazon author page Author.to/ToulaMavridouMesser. Your support is very much appreciated. Thanks for reading! Toula Xx