Hillside Anthology

Village of the Damned

The wind was howling and the rain was lashing. It was a bad night for guising. “Let’s just stay home, Steiner!” Denise pleaded.

“No!” Steiner said adamantly. “Shamhain is an ancient tradition in the Highlands.”

“But Steiner, we are in Fife and we don’t have any traditions. We’re just simple mining folk.”

“Fife or the Highlands—I don’t care where I am,” Steiner argued. “Nothing keeps me indoors on Shamhain. Not even the devil himself can stop me tonight.”

“We May well run into him on a night like this, like,” Denise squeaked out, as the rain stung her eyes.

Pumpkins blew past them down the almost deserted street. A young mother scuttled indoors with her yoUng daughter clasped firmly in her hand.

Lightening flashed in the sky, quickly followed by a deafening roar. Power  shorted-out in the village. Denise shrieked with terror in the deep darkness.  The little light the waxing moon gave off was covered by thick, black, billowing clouds.

Suddenly the street was enveloped in glaring light. A car headed towards them out of the pitch black. Denise jumped into the middle of the road and frantically waived her arms, hoping the driver would take them out of the pitch black and back to the safety of civilization.  To her horror, the driver of the Audi R8 pushed his foot on the accelerator, forcing her to make a life-saving-dive for the kerb, as the car shot into the distance.

“He’s crazy,” Steiner screamed. “Call the cops!”

“I can’t get a signal,” she shouted back.

“Me neither,” echoed Steiner, as he slipped his new smart-phone into his back pocket.

In the distance, the car stopped. Steiner and Denise stared at it, wondering what would happen next, and as they did so, the rear lamps glowed with menace, like the eyes of a demon. Then slowly, the Audi turned and faced them. Just above the wind, they could hear the engine revving-up.

Without so much as a word between them, they ran to the nearest door and started pounding and shouting.

The demon car just revved and revved, mocking their efforts.

They ran to the house’s window, shouting and screaming to be let in. But to their bewilderment, the family inside just ignored them, smiling and comfortable in front of a blazing fire. It was the sort of fire that reminded Denise of her care-free childhood days, when the world was full of promise and it seemed that nothing bad could ever happen.

Without warning, the family turned and stared at them, the smiles replaced with a look of evil and malice so intense it made Steiner and Denise recoil from the window in shock.

“What’s happening, Steiner?” Denise sobbed.

“It’s Shamhain. The time of year when the veil separating this world becomes thin. In times past,  the demon god, Crom Cruach, would scour the length and breadth of  Scotland to claim souls.”

“But, Steiner, this is Fife. What has Scottish History got to do with us?”

The car went into gear and stormed at them, cutting off Steiner’s chance of an explanation.

“Run, Denise!” Steiner screamed. “Run!”

The unhappy pair bolted along the pavement, the car careering after them, smashing into bollards, destroying planter boxes and squashing pumpkins.

Grabbing Denise by the arm, Steiner pulled her into a side street where they found a dead end.

Behind them, the sounds of brakes and tyres screeching in a circle filled their ears. Trapped, they could do nothing but watch as the car pulled slowly into the alleyway; they were its prey, trapped with no way out.