Woodlington

Chapter 25 - Harold's Revenge

"Come on, just let go."

Alex, holding on for dear life to the edge of the trapdoor, shook her head.

"I can't," she hissed. "My fingers won't let me."

"You've got to. Harold'll be on his way back by now."

That did the trick.

With a frightened squeal, Alex dropped.

She got shakily to her feet.

"What if the spell didn't work?"

Jessie scowled.

Before trying the tunnel, they'd returned upstairs, sure the entrance would be clear.

One guard however, had still been standing - Richard.

"It did work," she growled. "I know it did. I can't explain why Dad's okay, but none of the others were, were they?"

Alex didn't answer.

"You listening?"

Jessie turned to find Alex gazing above her into the chamber.

She placed a hand on her shoulder.

"He'll be fine. He's got to be."

Alex gave a half-hearted nod.

The thought of her father lying unconscious up there was terrifying, especially with Harold coming. True, they'd managed to stop the bleeding and hide him with half a dozen sacks, but the feeling she was abandoning him wouldn't leave.

"Alex!"

"Okay," she said, steeling herself. "Let's do this."

* * * * * * * * * *

As Harold raced towards the graveyard, his disappointment turned first into anger, then rage.

James.

At this moment, all he wanted was to destroy everything his brother held dear.

No longer would his wife and children simply die, now they'd suffer.

Thinking what he'd do to them brought a smile to his face.

It would be exquisite, he'd make sure of it. Those who found the bodies would be plagued by nightmares; their children's children would tell tales about it.

Slowly, Harold's mood began to brighten.

From this night forth, the name Bitterman would become infamous.

Though it'd survived, the Hill had suffered badly. For years to come, a shadow of fear would loom over it. A question would hang in the air, always unasked, but ever wondered about:

Would Harold return?

Grinning, he increased his speed.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *

"You say this tunnel leads to the cellars?" asked Jessie, ducking to avoid a rocky outcrop.

Alex shrugged.

"It just goes off the map where the garden wall is."

"Bound to be the cellars. And what about the branch –"

"You mean this one," interrupted Alex, slowing as it loomed out of the darkness.

"Yeah, this one."

It was more an intersection than a branch - a circular clearing where three tunnels joined.