Fast-Tracked And Other Stories

The Night Hag

Something woke her.

She lay in the stillness of the silver dark, first taking stock of her surroundings (nope, Mookie wasn't waowing outside the door and she didn't hear the tank refilling from dad having his middle of the night pee) then of herself (she was warm enough, didn't have the munchies, and didn't need a loo break), so what, then, had brought her back to consciousness?

The bedroom was as silent as the graveyard where they'd laid her mother to rest. Nothing moved, nothing creaked. Strange, Kirsty thought. Normally when she woke in the wee small hours it was pre-emptive of something, like a taxi-load of noisy neighbours getting left off, or a cloud bursting, or—

Her mobile phone buzzed. All right, there it is.

She unlocked her Samsung, and, wincing against its sharp blue light, dialled the brightness down.

ONE NEW MESSAGE from Ollie Mallon

hi kirst. can't stop thinking about what we did 2day. u ok?

That's Ollie and his conscience for you. was asleep. u woke me she replied.

The clock in the top right of the screen said it was just after midnight. That meant Kirsty had fallen into a deep sleep in little more than an hour— and it felt like she was going to need another cycle or two to get her batteries recharged. Maybe Ollie's right and we shouldn't've done it... but if anyone should be freaking out, it's me... her eyelids had no more than closed when

Tap. Scratch. Tap-tap. Scrape

Was Mookie—? She opened her eyes and Ollie was staring in through the window. Hadn't she closed the blinds? She must really have been knackered when she came up to bed. Ollie looked pale and panicked. 'Let me in, Kirst. You owe me after earlier.'

Kirsty couldn't be certain if his words penetrated the glass and reverberated across the dark airwaves to her, or if they only penetrated her mind. She was about to push back the duvet and get up to unlatch the window when it swung silently open.

Ollie had preferred the window since he was big enough to climb trees. Kirsty thought it was totally a boy thing, climbing trees— for her, it was doors and stairs every time. She waited for Ollie to clamber in and start babbling.

Except...

It must've been her sluggish, half-asleep mind playing tricks on her because it seemed like one moment Ollie was on the branches outside, and the very next he was in front of the radiator and the window was shut. You just rested your eyes for a second, that's all.

'Really, Ollie? What kind of a wuss are you.' Is what she was going to say, except Kirsty discovered that she was frightened. Frightened of things that go bump in the night, frightened of the dark corners moonlight doesn't reach and frightened of uninvited visitors who show up in the dead of the night. It frightened her more still to discover that her body had been scared stiff since the Tap. Scratch. Tap. Scrape and her mind was only catching up now.

'This afternoon you crossed a line that cannot be uncrossed.' Ollie said, breaking the static silence. 'What made you think it'd be a good idea to play with a ouija board? Do you know what you have opened yourself up to?' Just like that he was at her bedside. A cold sweat broke out on Kirsty's brow. This wasn't right, not right at all. 'You toyed with forces you don't understand. Communicating with the dead isn't just some game, you know?' His pale panic changed to dark anger.

The Samsung buzzed again and spurted out dim light. Automatically, Kirsty's eyes darted to the side to check the notification. 'Kirsty look at me.'

ONE NEW MESSAGE from Ollie Mallon

Can u come over?

How could—? Her mind swam with unreality.

'Kirsty you will look at your mother when she is speaking to you!' Ollie was gone and her mother was on top of her. She weighed heavy on Kirty's chest like her absence did on her heart. 'Why did you try to communicate with me today? Why?' Her upper lip peeled back in a snarl, revealing rancid grave-rotted teeth. 'I am gone, Kirsty! You cannot have me back.'

Mum, please. You're hurting me. Kirsty wanted to say.

'They told me I'd be banished if I don't go after those who disturbed my rest. Yes, that's right— the boy, Ollie, will also be dead before the night's out. He's always been your loyal little lapdog and look where that's got him.'

Kirsty willed herself to move, to grunt, to yell. Something. Anything! Nnnnnn—

'You are poison, my dear. Poison! You get it from your father's side. It's why I had to hang myself. You gave me no choice... and do you know what? It was the best thing I ever did. Normally the dead want to be spoken with but I was happy never to hear from you!'

Nnnnnn—

'It'll all be over soon, my child. And not to worry, you'll be in a different place to me— I wouldn't be doing this otherwise. Oh yes, there's a special place for children like you. They tell me it is most unpleasant.'

If she could just waken her dad. Nnnnnn—

'How do you think your dear old dad will cope? Me, I reckon he'll do just fine as long as he has a bottle in his hand! Oh look, what's this? Thirsty Kirsty has wet the bed!' Evelyn gripped Kirsty's shoulders with long since decomposed hands and shook her daughter with wicked glee. Her scalp cracked and hairy clumps of it tumbled onto Kirty's face. 'Any last words?' She cackled.

Nnnnnn—

'Come on, Kirsty, say something! Say something!'

'Nnnnnnoooooo!' Defiance finally erupted from her. 'Get off me, mum!'

The horrible resurrection reassumed Ollie's appearance. 'Kirsty! Waken up, say something!' She threw Ollie off her ('Oof!') and scrambled out of bed. Her legs were like jelly but at least she was able to move now she'd broken the spell.

'Dad!' She yelled. 'Help!'

There was no time to waste. With Ollie sprawled in front of the door, she opted for the window. Panting, Kirsty leapt from the windowsill to the oak.

'Where are you going, Kirsty?' Ollie called. 'Wait up.'

She extended a leg to the branch below and was just about to lower herself when Ollie grasped her wrist. 'What's going on? Come back inside.'

'No! Leave me and Ollie alone!' She screamed and bit his hand.

'Ow!' Ollie exclaimed and pulled away.

Lights next door and across the street came on. Good, maybe witnesses would force this abomination to go back where it came from. Free of Ollie's grip, Kirsty lowered herself to the next branch. She was on her way to another when her nightdress got snagged, and, in her frantic haste to get the pissed-on thing loose, she lost her footing and nosedived to the garden.

The soft grass kept Kirsty's young bones intact; she broke nothing except her delicate carotid artery, which was impaled on one of her dads garden rakes.

'999! Someone call 999!' Ollie wailed.