The Woods (unfinished)

Chapter 19

 I grimaced as I continued hesitantly squelching my way through the sodden moss, jewel green and sparkling. I did not step out of the house with appropriate shoes this morning for torrential rain, or for stalking.

As I ducked under twisty, gnarled branches, that usually seemed beautifully elegant but now seemed like a death trap, reaching out to claw me, I kept a not-very-well-trained eye on Jack, and got distracted for a moment. He was just so… perfect.

 His back outlined his muscles, all tense and beautiful, large but not too large so that he looked like an alien body builder. His neck was tanned deeply, surfer style, matching his honey coloured hair that coiled into curls thanks to the torrential storm taking place. He was such a cliché surfer boy, and I usually didn’t go for that type of boy (not that I could afford to be choosy) but he was irresistible, as soon as his eyes trained on me, my heart was doing acrobats in my chest.

Again, I shook my head clear of wandering thoughts and focused on the task ahead. Something appeared in front of Jack, something streaked with red, but my eyes could barely focus.

Still I hurried on behind, whilst the rain decided to pound the canopy harder with forceful sparkling liquid droplets.

I blinked my eyes free of rain and then saw a cottage coming into view… The cottage.

 And then I identified the streak of red… Amber... Her wild red hair.

 They seemed to be talking frantically, and suddenly Amber, voice laced with panic, shouted at Jack, “You’re not even listening do me, Jack! Did they call the police? Did they? Because if so, they’ll be here, right now, and then they’ll come to us, to the camp!”

What? Camp? Did they belong to some kind of witch camp? A vampire camp? Did they suck blood from the old man’s neck and then smash him over the head for good measure? 

“No, I- I don’t th-think so… no, they didn’t…”

My ears seemed to ache as I craned to hear their panicked words

“Come on then, we have to do something!”

They ran around the cottage, to the front, and disappeared inside.

Oh my God.

Were they the reason the defenceless old man was lying cold, on the ground, with blood seeping out of his head, his face a creased white sheet?

I stood still, rooted to the spot, swaying slightly, my head trying to process this snippet of a conversation as precious and important as the crown jewels. They knew something!

I had to go inside.

I cautiously scurried round the side of the cottage keeping low as I passed a window. I came to the front and up the path, past the flower beds, the beautiful colourful petals so delicate, and I thought of all the times he must have tendered and nursed these flowers lovingly, as if they were his children.

Mick was his child.

I approached the door hesitantly. I could hear raised, angry voices.

The door groaned painfully as I opened it. Great. I was about to be discovered. My stalking career was over.

I was greeted with a tense silence as I entered the cottage, and ragged breathing.

My stomach gave a sickening lurch at the sight and stench of the dead old man.

My eyes were drawn to the pain in his face and the fatal, gaping hole in his head, as I stepped closer to him.

And then someone grabbed me from behind and forcefully pushed me to the wall, and a stab of pain shot through my back and then my heart as  I came face to face with Jack, and his adorable eyes that had me swooning changed from anger, to confusion, and back to anger again as he realised…

“Gemma?”

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Short, sorry, running out of ideas here.... hope it was okay Xx