Blind Faith (Book 1)

Chapter 12

Ash

"Mrs...Mrs Lockhart?"

The deep growl had ceased as soon as his voice cut through the silence. He raised a hand and noted how it trembled.

What is wrong with me? Chill out! Stop shaking and grow some balls.

The crystal had once again slipped in against his skin, gently pulsing its heat, in time with his heartbeat. Unnaturally working with him, warm energy into his chest, one beat at a time, calming him. Swallowing down his cowardliness, the bile clinging to his throat, his hand brushed the door as he edged it slowly open to peer into the gloom.

Instantly he was struck by the stench, a stale odour making him gag. He paused to pull up his damp top over his mouth and nose. Taking one last breath, he peered back into the dull and shadowy lighting, searching for Mrs Lockhart or the Rat.

Maybe she had gone out – but in this weather, it seemed very unlikely. Especially leaving Boris the rat...

Ash had been in her flat a couple of times before, on both occasions she had stuffed him with stale cakes and biscuits and shown photos of her grandchildren and great-grandchildren. The Rat just sitting next to her growling at him the whole time.

She had lived here for over sixty years – so she says - and the apartment must have looked the same it did when she first moved in. It firstly needed a good clean, then some desperate re-decorating. Every visit Ash was astonished at the amount of clutter - the amount of shit you can fit in such a small space - probably sixty years' worth. The general layout was the same as his but without all the gadgets and modern furniture. The longer he stayed, the harder it became to ignore the strong odour of urine and dog shit. But this time the stench had a different ominous taste to it.

His eyes quickly adjusted to the gloom, his nose twitched, and Ash glanced down at his feet and noticed he had just missed standing on one of Boris's little brown gifts.

That was lucky...

He stepped past, eyes now focused on the floor, his stomach churning. He reached to switch on a side lamp, but to no avail.

"Mrs Lockhart," he said again, moving further into the room, trying another lamp – it too would not work. He spun around, only now realizing that the light in the entrance hall hadn't come on either when he had entered earlier.

How did I miss that?

The light sensor would have picked up his movement as soon as the door opened.

A power cut?

Ash pushed aside his thoughts and concentrated on the shadows on the floor that could only be the Rat's little brown presents.

Ash muffled a cry as a heavy crunching thud came from the kitchen. Trembling he turned and made a tentative step towards the sound, squinted into the darkness, trying to make out a shadowy outline of something lying on the kitchen floor, something human size. He stopped dead as a strange sound started from the kitchen like someone was licking or sucking up fluids from a surface.

"M...Mrs Lockhart?" he whispered, taking another step. He froze when he heard a deep throaty growl, but as soon as he stepped onto the kitchen tiles, his legs gave way from under him, crashing him to the floor, his head thumping hard against the carpet.

The first thought to cross his mind was that he hoped that he hadn't fallen onto anything brown and smelly, but then the intense throbbing refocused him on the situation. Groaning, he rolled over and staggered to his feet, a shooting pain stabbed the back of his skull, as white flecks danced across his vision.