The Haunted Hangman

Chapter 6

"Run, Liam!" bellowed Niall. But it was too late. A thin shape limped from under the bridge and into the moonlight. It was the figure of a man wearing strange, old-fashioned clothes from another century. His arms seemed to dangle from his shoulders. Where his coat sleeves ended, I saw his wrists and hands had lost all their flesh.

His hands were those of a skeleton!

His head was bent forward at an odd angle, and his neck was hideously twisted. His eyes, glinting with madness, swept over us.

"Where is he?" the man demanded.

The stranger's accent was English, but he spoke with a strained hissing sound, like the sound of escaping gas, as though he had a hole in his throat.

"Who?" Niall asked.

"You know who," the stranger hissed.

Liam backed away from the gruesome figure. "Are you looking for your cat?" he wondered out loud.

Triumph shone in the stranger's eyes. He jabbed a bony finger at Liam. "If you saw the cat, then Zayn must be here! He's the one I'm looking for; as well you know. Now, tell me - where is he?"

"There's no one called Zayn here," I snapped, losing patience with the rude stranger. We'd come down to the bridge to see Asian ghosts, but so far all I'd seen was a ghostly cat and a rude, ghostly Englishman. My disappointment fueled my anger.

"We don't even know anyone called Zayn," I went on. My name is Louis. That's my friend Harry. And that's Niall and Liam."

His mouth distorted in a manic smile, the stranger advanced toward Niall. "Such weird name you have, boy," he stated, his malicious eyes focused on him.

Is the name Niall weird to be called for a human?

"Well, it's my name," Niall replied defensively. "My parents gave it to me," he backed away from the man, a hand raised to protect himself. "You're a ghost, aren't you?" he asked.

"That's none of your business," the stranger hissed. His head sagged to one side, and I caught a glimpse of the peculiar ridges and bruises on his neck. "You's best show me some respect, otherwise- "

A vicious-looking knife appeared in one of his hands.

"You see this? If you don't tell me what I want to know, I'll slit all your throats. Don't think I won't. I've done it before. That's why people call me The Slasher.

The ghost of The Slasher placed an arm around Liam's neck, yanking his head back, exposing his throat. My heart was bobbing up and down crazily. Liam struggled, but The Slasher's grip was too strong.

"We've done nothing to harm you," Niall protested angrily. He leaped forward. "Go away or we'll call the police!"

But the stranger with the twisted neck ignored us.

The knife rose to Liam's throat.

"Tell me where Zayn is, boy- or I'll open your windpipe!!"

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