Backwards Into Hell

Part Three: Everybody Dies

Jake's Diary

Sunday 31st October

Nothing was going to stop me.

Where the hell was the kid?

The Lodge was really burning now. It was on the brink of collapse, and I supposed I was lucky to have gotten out on time, but considering what happened next, I should've stayed.

I stood in the centre of the grounds, by the empty graves, and found The Old-Young Man leaning against a makeshift gravestone.

'How's it going then?' he asked casually, untouched by the blistering rain and lighting a cigarette.

I didn't respond. He knew how it was going.

'That bad?'

I frowned, thinking this could somehow be his doing. 'That bad.'

'You know, most people don't get anywhere near as far as this.' He came closer so I could feel his breath. 'Most of them can't even kill one.' He laughed as if he'd made a joke, and the cigarette played in his fingers. 'But you? You killed so many.'

'Tell me where he is.'

I couldn't stop now.

'Jake.' He put a hand on my shoulder. 'You've done well. But I think this one's slipped out of your hands.'

'No!' I shouted. 'Let me try again—I can do it. I can.'

My chest heaved. It sickened me to beg, but if I didn't, I'd never see Rachel again. Although, I wasn't sure it was even about her anymore.

'Pity,' he said. 'You really could have been something.'

'What?'

I didn't understand.

'All that bravery, all that cunning and initiative.' He let the cigarette drop from his hand. It burnt out on the grass.

'Let me try...' My voice was weak, husky and husky. I had to finish this.

'But you lacked something.'

'What?'

'Hmm.' He met my eye, like a professor watching a lab rat. 'You'll figure it out someday, I'm sure.'

There was no more time for discussion as he snapped his fingers and stepped back.

The change was instant.

The call of the sirens split my head as a crowd of people spilt over the grounds like ants, and still, The Lodge continued to burn.

I dropped to my knees. I was back. I was home.

The Man was gone.

I looked up, pushing my wet hair from my eyes fire-fighters rushed toward me. They were trying to save me, I realised with a gulped laugh. They had no clue.

When I looked past them, there was a separate crowd by the trees: a group of police officers, some woman, and the boy.

Caleb.

There was no time.

Before the fire-fighters reached me, I leapt up, heart and legs pumping as the sky turned to ash and the noises ran through me.

His mother had him in a tight hug. I didn't care. I'd kill them both if I had to.

The fire-fighters gave chase, sprinting through the wet grass, but they were too slow and as I neared, I noted Caleb looking up from his mother's grasp, not at me, but at the trees. All of them were looking at something.

A young woman, dressed in uniform, noticed me first and took a protective step in front of the child, but that didn't matter. With my strength, she'd be nothing more than a twig.

There were two other officers but they were more occupied by the woods and were slowly edging towards it as I smashed into their colleague. She flew back, shuddering and hitting the floor with a beautiful thump. The other two snapped into action then, rushing for me like bulls, but, like the fire-fighters, they were too slow.

I grabbed Caleb's leg, still in his mother's arms.

'No!' she cried, hugging him tighter. I shoved her to the floor, prying the child free, and caught her eyes. They were wild. She grabbed him back.

'Let him go!' I returned.

My options were running out. The combined force of the police and fire-fighters was almost on me. It was almost over.

If I could just snap his neck...

'No,' she gasped. Tears and rain rushed down her cheeks as her grip tightened.

Why wasn't I strong enough? What had happened to my power?

Finally, our eyes locked. In her face, I saw that she understood and her mind was bright with terror as she saw me for who I really was.

Finally, a police officer took hold of my sides and lifted me from her like a forklift. We were surrounded. And before I finally fainted, I dimly remember, through the fog, someone reading me my rights.

'I am arresting you on the suspicion of...'

'No,' I groaned.

'The murder of...'