*Inside Evil and its sequels are available on Amazon, Kobo, B&N, Smashwords and iBooks*
Roberta sifted through the remaining pile of unmarked homework before her. Why she thought teaching would be a great profession evaded her. Her naivety had led her to believe that the fulfilling nature of the job, sharing one’s knowledge and experience with others and helping to shape the next generation, would far outweigh rebellious teens and unruly children. But here, in the midst of her marking nightmare, it was neither of these matters that preyed on her mind. It was one of ongoing paperwork, class plans, complicated syllabuses and league tables. Where had her life gone? It was a Friday night and she was sitting in her office at Ridgewood boarding school without so much as a text inviting her out for a night of drinks and dancing. She was young, single and plagued by the difficult task of trying to keep snotty nosed kids out of bother lest their parents arrived only to cause yet more trouble.
With a sigh she pushed back her chair and stood up.
“Sod it, I’ll do it tomorrow.”
She gave a last glance around the room, flicked off the light and set off towards the staff room. The classrooms and labs of the school were entirely separate from the dorm blocks, making the unlit corridors quiet and eerie. A blanket of clouds outside shut out any light from the moon, and she cursed the lack of lighting as she groped and grasped her way along the usually familiar corridors. Rounding the corner she saw that the light in the staff room was still on. Who would still be here at this hour? Roberta crept up quietly, deciding that the best thing was to try and take a peek at who had stayed behind, and sneak away if it were bore-master and RE teacher Alan. However, she couldn’t see anything through the crack in the door so, with a sudden burst, she pushed it open.
“Roberta, crikey you gave me a fright.” Malcolm Swithburn, the headmaster, gasped and clutched his chest in panic, “I thought everyone had gone, what are you still doing here? It’s a Friday night, haven’t you got plans?”
“I was just finishing some marking, I’m off out now to meet up with some friends,” Roberta lied to save explaining her flagging social life.
“Well I’m glad you’ve got a night planned, I’m up to my ears with work that I can’t even concentrate on, what with the problems we’re having with Vanessa.” He took his small oval glasses off and laid them on the table. He sighed as he rubbed his tired eyes, “I just don’t understand what’s happening to that girl, she was one of our brightest students, someone that was going to go on from here and do big and wonderful things. But this –,” he looked down at the papers in front of him, “this is a complete waste, there’s nothing here in any of her recent work that shows her old spark, it’s simply gone.” He looked up at Roberta hopefully, “You haven’t had any luck with her have you?”
“I’ve tried, I really have, but I just can’t get through to her. It’s like talking to a ghost, the Vanessa we all knew has just vanished. She’s non-existent in classes, just staring off into space, and it’s no point keeping her behind either because she’s just the same. It’s so awful to see. Nobody’s mentioned the word yet, but I think a lot of us are thinking it.”
“You think it’s drugs,” Malcolm commented with a sigh and nod. “It’s crossed my mind too but we’ve never found anything, and we can’t just go storming in with accusations. Her parents would be all over us like a rash, not to mention the invasion of privacy for her, especially if nothing’s found.” He stared back to the papers in front of him and scratched his wrinkled forehead. “No, we have to play it by the book and just keep persevering. It’s all we can do. Though I don’t know if it’s going to work. I mean, we’ve already let her move into the school which we don’t usually do for locals. She seemed happier to start with, but it hasn’t lasted very long.”
Malcolm continued to cast his eyes over the reams of papers before him and surveyed the mountain of work with tiredness.
“Well, I guess I’ll be getting off then Malcolm. You should too.”
Malcolm looked up and gave a smile. “Thanks Roberta, I’ll try. Have a good time tonight and I’ll see you Monday.”
More like tomorrow thought Roberta. That pile of work on her desk couldn’t wait till Monday and long gone were the weekends when she didn’t end up at the school at least once. “Night then.”
“Night.”
*****
“Martha, what on earth are you talking about?” Susan looked at Sam, who seemed visibly shaken by the ordeal. Martha, still clutching Sam’s hands, looked up and gave a self-conscious smile.
“Oh yes, I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me. I just...” Martha’s voice trailed off, her embarrassment clearly apparent.
“You what?” asked Sam in a slightly shaky tone.
“It’s silly, I know, but I just got this feeling. That something horrible was about to happen. Not a vision, just a feeling. I haven’t felt that since -,” she paused. “Since the night Barry went missing.”
“I think you’ve been reading too many of Sam’s books Martha,” Susan quipped. “Look, let’s leave the work…,” and on seeing Martha’s expression added, “We can do it tomorrow, don’t worry about the morning rush, it’s dead in here.”
“Are you sure? I don’t mind staying, we really do need to finish it off.”
“Martha! Leave it, really…come and have a drink…”
“No, no, I’m fine. Can I get off though? I think I need a nice hot bath and then bed.”
Susan nodded, and Martha got up and went through a small door at the back of the shop to collect her coat and bag. The atmosphere was thick, and in the few seconds of silence that followed, all that could be heard was the whistling wind outside battering on the door and the raindrops as they smashed across the windows. Sam looked up from the table with an expression of shock and utter disbelief.
“It’s OK Sam, she’s done this before. Never this emotional, but she says she sees things sometimes, gets bad feelings. She did it a lot when her husband vanished, went completely potty, but gradually she’s got herself back together. It’s another one of her eccentricities that we have to deal with!”
“Sue, you don’t think she had a, well, a real vision? I mean, I’m as sceptical as you, well, I was, but the look in her eyes just then. Perhaps she did feel or see something, perhaps it is all real?”
“Oh no, don’t be silly! It’s just Martha being Martha,” Susan said as she reached over and topped up her glass. “The brain does funny things to some people, it certainly has to her. You’ve been reading way to much funny stuff. Don’t you start going that way too, I’ll never be able to cope with two of y-.”
Martha entered the room again and noticed the sudden gap in the conversation.
“So you both think I’m a nutcase do you? Martha Wittle does a mad one again…” she cried. Although her elegance had returned to her after the sudden outburst, she seemed somewhat wild. “Going to sell tickets to see batty Martha are we?!”
“No, no, Martha, we’re just concerned. It’s never been quite like that before, never that strong,” Susan said as she grabbed the arm of her upset friend. “Do you want us to walk you home?”
“I’ll be fine, I can use my powers to ward off the demons,” Martha responded with an angry face. Susan, who was now holding Martha by the shoulders, looked her straight in the eyes.
“Martha, now you know we didn’t mean…,” but before she could finish, Martha put her hand to her mouth to stifle the beginnings of a giggle and before long the three of them were doubled up with tears in their eyes.
Laughing, although with a distinct uneasiness, Sam giggled, “You sure do know how to sober a guy up don’t you!”
Susan unlatched the lock and ushered Martha out of the door. Kissing her on both cheeks, she gave her friend a hug and smile. “I’ll see you tomorrow, OK.”
Martha smiled back and hurried off down the street, soon disappearing into the darkness. Closing the door, Susan turned back to Sam and strode back to the table.
“Another drink?”
“After all of that? Hell yes.”
*****
It seemed to be only a matter of minutes later, that a screaming and knocking at the book shop door roused Susan and Sam from their conversation. Hurrying through the room, Susan unlatched the door, whereupon a bedraggled and distraught Martha almost fell into her arms.
“Martha? What on earth?”
But Martha seemed too distraught to say anything immediately, and it was only after several minutes of sitting by the fire that she started to gain any colour. Her hair was plastered to her face, mascara tracks running down her cheeks, and when Susan had gingerly led her to sit down, she’d noticed that many of Martha’s carefully manicured false nails were snapped. Sam, having not known what to do, had quickly whipped up one of the coffees that the customers were coming to love. Pushing it into Martha’s hands he was the first to ask.
“Are you OK Martha? Were you attacked?”
She looked up at him, and then across to Susan, before nodding her head.
“I’m not hurt,” she said abruptly, “It didn’t touch me. I just fell and banged my head on the cobbles.” She put her hand to where a dark bruise was swiftly appearing on her jaw. “It all happened so quickly…”
“What happened?” Susan asked, not wanting to press the matter but also determined to discover what had occurred.
“I was just minding my own business,” Martha said. “Home, bath, bed, that’s all I wanted. It came out of nowhere, this hooded figure, tall, wearing a long robe. It just rushed out of a side street, glanced in my direction and then started moving towards me.”
She paused as she recalled the events. “I turned to run, I don’t even know why, it just looked so menacing. I felt that fear from earlier, from when I was in here, and before I knew it, I’d slipped, smashed my head, broken my nails.” She paused again, before saying slowly, “It didn’t say anything, nothing at all. I threw my purse at it, but whatever it was, it didn’t even stop staring at my face for the slightest second.” She shuddered and took a sip of the coffee which was gripped tightly between her fingers.
“Did you get a good look at it?” Susan urged.
“Nothing. It was right over me and all I could see was the small glint of dark eyes. There was a howling roar of wind down the street, we both looked round and when I looked back, it was gone.”
*****
Roberta was glad to be out of the classroom. She often spent six out of seven days at the school, and it wasn’t uncommon to find her slaving away on a Sunday too. It wasn’t that she was a bad teacher, or that she just took longer to do everything. She, and all the other teachers, just had too much work. It was that plain and simple.
After leaving Malcolm in the staff room, Roberta had grabbed her things and was now on her way off the premises. She hoped that her housemate was in, but these days it was more likely that he’d have stayed behind at the bookstore with Susan Lingly for more than a little tipple. Sam was a friend from her high school and college days. They’d grown up together in Suffolk and had gone through the usual rights of passage, first kiss, not with each other, first booze, first smoke. After losing contact with her friend when she’d graduated from university, Roberta had been very surprised when she’d had an email from Sam saying that he was coming up to Ridgewood to study for a thesis paper and was wondering if he could crash for a few nights while he looked for somewhere to stay long term. Roberta had welcomed the possibility of renewing her friendship, and had offered to accommodate Sam indefinitely. He’d agreed. However, as happens with many things in life, it hadn’t worked out quite like she’d imagined. In the two weeks that Sam had been in Ridgewood, he’d only had an evening in with Roberta twice. The first night, they’d unloaded the car, got a takeaway and got completely intoxicated reminiscing about their childhood and college years over several bottles of wine. The second night, they’d just chilled out and watched TV. Sam had a tonne of reading to do and he’d really hit it off with Mrs Lingly. As Roberta often didn’t return home until late in the evening, Sam had started to stay after hours at the bookstore.
Reaching the main doors to the school, Roberta swore as she found them locked. She couldn’t bear this place and someone seemed to be making it highly difficult for her to leave. She gave a gasp of frustration and set off down another dark corridor as she re-mapped her route and decided to go through to the dorms and take the exit there. That’s if that door hadn’t already been locked too.
Roberta’s thoughts shifted to the mundane evening ahead of her. There was some stale bread, probably a jar of slightly mouldy jam, oh yes, and a single red onion in the kitchen. Well, that sounded like a feast. Having never really grown out of the student phase, Roberta found it very difficult to plan ahead, especially when it came to food shopping. And anyway, living on her own, she couldn’t be bothered to buy in bulk as it only went off before she had time to eat it. It was Friday night. She’d treat herself and have another takeaway.
Roberta rounded the corner to the dorm block and immediately noticed what she thought was a crumpled heap of linen laying at the far end of the hall.
“Damn cleaners,” she muttered under her breath. Ridgewood boarding school had seemed like the ideal place to work, until she’d got there. Though many of the kids were privately funded and their parents paid for the highest quality, it seemed that the upkeep of the building was coming down around Roberta’s ears.
She flicked the light switch nearest her. It didn’t work, and the only light was that of the moon in the clearing sky. The hall was at the side of the dorm block, and strange pale light streamed through the windows, casting a collage of light and dark upon the floor. Shaking her head with irritation, Roberta set off again, determined just to get home. As she neared the heap on the floor, her face fell to one of shock as, with a gasp, she realised that it wasn’t linen at all but the motionless body of a girl. Dropping her bag, Roberta put her hands to her mouth.
“Oh God.”
The girl lay face down with her shoulder length blonde hair covering her head and concealing her identity. Her hands lay loosely by her sides, whilst her legs were bent as if she’d simply collapsed on the spot. Her skin was a sickly shade of blue green. She wore a green, knee length party dress and high heels, though the heel of the left shoe had snapped off and lay about a yard from the girl’s rigid left hand. The air was deathly cold and the hairs on Roberta’s neck stood on end as she ran over to the motionless figure.
Kneeling down, Roberta pulled the girl over without thinking and let out a gasp.
“Vanessa Lingly.”
Feeling frantically for a non existent pulse, Roberta started to feel sick. Only a few minutes ago, she and Malcolm had been discussing this girl’s problems. They were too late. Nothing could be done now.
Vanessa’s eyes, wide open and staring, were glazed over, whilst her mouth was locked open as if she had been startled. The room began to spin, and Roberta’s hands recoiled at the feeling of Vanessa’s cold, damp skin beneath her fingers. A strange warmth crept up through Roberta’s body, starting deep within her and continuing to spread until her skin was radiating heat. Her head started to burn like fire, and Roberta could feel her stomach starting to convulse. Within a few seconds she lost her vision, her mind went black and she passed out, falling forwards and landing over the outstretched corpse of the dead girl.
*I will be posting one or two scenes a week as the story builds. However, if you can't wait that long, Inside Evil and its sequels are available on Amazon, Kobo, B&N, Smashwords and iBooks.
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