The Protector of Memories (The Veil of Death Book 1) (19 page)

BOOK: The Protector of Memories (The Veil of Death Book 1)
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“It does not matter whether you believe me or not.” Faith answered. “The ghost called David leads an army of those who favour the human form. They intend to rip down the Veil of Death so that they can be seen again. You decide then on what you want to believe.”

Chris quickly interjected. “Your speech is admirable.” And he meant it because he believed that what Faith was trying to achieve was admirable and… brave, but she would meet with failure. “You will not stop the act of killing. Nobody can.”

“I know,” Faith stated. “That is not what I am trying to achieve. I am warning the people on this planet called Earth that a battle is about to begin. You are about to fight an enemy that you have already killed. The empty ghosts care not that they were once a part of the human race, they fight for their right to survive. What would you do if you had the ability that I have? Keep quiet? Continue to live a normal mortal life_?”

“What a load of old bollocks!” A man shouted.

“For crying out loud,” The man standing next to him said in exasperation, “Let the woman speak_.”

But he cried out in pain as the man thumped him on the nose and the spattering of blood confirmed that it was broken.

A woman’s voice screamed. “That’s my husband you’ve just hurt!”

Another man came to her rescue and punched the man who had broken the nose of her husband.

A woman slapped the rescuer’s face and another woman slapped her back.

A chair was thrown across the room.

People screamed and ducked down to avoid the onslaught of more chairs being thrown across the room.

The man who threw the first chair was rugby tackled to the floor.

A man’s voice shouted out. “Break it up.”

Linda instructed Faith, Hope and Sam to go through the door that led them to the conservatory.

But Sam became distracted with the four security guards and Brain, caught in the middle, trying to break up the fighting.

“Sam…” Linda insisted.

But a man pushed Sam out of the way to get to Faith. “I hear voices in my head. Help me. Help me.”

He continued to laugh mockingly.

Sam looked at the man in disgust.

Linda pushed Faith and Hope through the door.

She turned to witness Sam being hit in the jaw and reached out to grab what she thought was Sam’s body but missed it completely.

Linda stepped between the man and Sam.

“Get through that door!” She shouted and grabbed at the door’s handle… missed it – tried again.

Sam looked up to see the man heading their way and quickly intervened. She grabbed at the handle, slammed the door behind them and locked it just as the man tried to open it.

They leant their bodies against the door in relief.

Linda ignored the banging and shouting that was coming from the other side. “Bloody auras,” she muttered. “I reached for your body and got nothing but thin air.”

Sam stared at Linda in astonishment and suddenly burst out laughing. But that hurt her jaw too much. “Ouch,” she said and rubbed at it. She turned and looked out of the door’s small window. “Total mayhem,” she said. “When did we all become so…” but she could not think of a word that described what she was witnessing.

“I’m scared.” She whispered to Linda as shock began to take hold. “What do we do?” she pleaded.

Linda put her arm around Sam’s shoulder. “I don’t know Sam.” She answered honestly. “I really don’t know. But we’ll figure it out… together.” She gave Sam’s shoulder a gentle squeeze. “Don’t ever feel as if you’re on your own Sam.”

Linda stepped away and added, “Come on let’s go and find Faith and Hope.

 


When the fighting had broken out, Katherine had grabbed Janet and got them over toward the doors. They remained flat against the wall but it was becoming more and more obvious that the fighting was increasing in its violence.

“Let’s get out of here.” Katherine said in a panic. “We are going to get hurt.” And she led Janet out into the main lobby and over toward the library’s main counter.

“We are not going to get to see Faith today that’s for sure.” Katherine said in disappointment.

She jumped at the sound of crashing doors and looked over toward the conference room.

Two men came barging through the doors and continued to fight even when they fell down onto the floor.

Janet’s attention was on the uniformed police who were running through the main doors of the library. She waited until the revolving doors stopped their spinning. “I’m leaving,” she said to Katherine.

Katherine nodded and followed her out of the library.

When they had gotten far enough away, Janet looked at Katherine in disbelief. “That woman… Faith. She should be locked up. She’s a danger to herself and others. Why did I let you talk me into coming here?” Janet frowned as she looked over toward the library. “Charity is right. That woman has a mental condition.”

Katherine crossed her arms. “How do you explain Faith’s body rising up… hovering in the air? And then being able to hold that man in the air while he kicked and struggled?”

“For pity sake Katherine you don’t believe in any of that nonsense?”

“Janet!” Katherine raised her voice in frustration. “This has gone way beyond Charity’s face. You heard what Faith is trying to warn us about. Your Alice was killed and she is now an empty ghost_.”

Janet slapped Katherine hard across her face. “Stay away from me.” She hissed and turned and walked away.

Katherine nursed her stinging cheek and was about to rush after her to apologise, but then changed her mind.

What would it achieve?

She was getting tired of Janet’s insistence that Charity was in danger and looking over at the library thought;
no such thing as coincidences
.

All events that have happened over these last few days have eventually led her to this place… to Faith, Hope, Sam and Linda.

A commotion distracted her from her thoughts and she saw a long line of men and women being led out of the library and into police vans.

Katherine waited until the police had driven off before walking back to the main doors but when she attempted to push them, they were locked into place.

She banged onto the glass when she saw a man walking across the lobby and started shouting. “Please. Can I come back in?”

Brian unlocked the doors, made his way outside and explained to the woman that the library was now closed and added. “Sorry but we’re not letting anybody back into the library.”

“But I must see Faith. I must see them all. I really need to talk to them.”

Brian looked at her face and sighting the palm print on it asked. “You okay. You not in trouble are you?”

“I’m okay it’s just that I…” she faltered, “I was in there just now. I saw it all. I don’t know what to do. I’m left with…” she hesitated, “I believe in the empty ghosts but what do I do now?”

Brian nodded and agreed with the woman;
it’s all very well telling folk that empty ghosts are about to take over the world but what about them that believe it all.

He blew out his cheeks and said in a gentle tone. “I’m really sorry miss but I’ve had strict instructions not to let anybody back into the library. Can you come back tomorrow? We open the doors at nine o’clock. Linda will be here then.”

Katherine nodded, she felt so disappointed at the thought of having to wait a whole night-time.

Seeing the look of disappointment, Brain said. “Tell you what. Let me have your name and contact details. I’ll get Linda to give you a ring.”

“Is she the woman with the owl on her shoulder?”

“Blow me,” he said and laughed. “You can see it as well?” And it was then that he noticed the oddness of her eyes.

“Excuse me?” Katherine said and waited for the man to take the piece of paper from her. “Excuse me?”

Brian rubbed his hands over his chin, took the piece of paper and read the name written on it, “Katherine,” he said. “Okay Katherine. I’ll get Linda to give you a ring?”

Shaking her head in disagreement, she said. “No I don’t want to be a nuisance. Just tell her that I will be here tomorrow morning just before you open. I think Faith recognised me but can you tell her that I am Nurse Katherine Adams… just in case.”

Giving her a salute he said. “Will do…” and glancing at her face again asked, “You sure you’re alright. Sorry I can’t let you in.”

“This I can handle…” she rubbed her hand gently over her stinging cheek. “Empty ghosts I cannot.”

Brian nodded but said no more.

“Thank you.” Katherine said and turned and walked away.

 


 

Brain locked the doors, pulled down the internal shutters and made his way back to the conservatory.

He handed Linda the piece of paper. “She was waiting outside. But I did as instructed… I did feel sorry for the lass.”

Linda read the name on the piece of paper, looked at Faith and Hope. “Katherine,” she said, “The woman who saw my owl.”

Brian laughed. “She mentioned your owl. She also told me to say that she is Nurse Katherine Adams.”

“Yes,” Faith said. “We know her.”

“She’d been slapped on the face… hard; I could see the palm print.”

“Not when I saw her she didn’t.” Linda said. “You should have let her into the library.”

“Hey I was only doing me job. I asked if she was okay… I mean the slap an all – she said ‘she could handle that but not empty ghosts’.”

“Why didn’t you let her in?” Linda insisted.

“It’s alright. Don’t get your knickers in a twist it’s probably over nothing_.”

“Brian this is serious. You need to start taking us seriously.”

“I’m sorry. Look… she said she’ll come back just before nine tomorrow.”

Linda sighed aloud her frustration but then her thoughts veered sharply toward Alan Bowling. “Faith…” she hesitated, “Alan has probably gone to the police by now.”

Faith nodded her head in agreement. “I know Linda. I know.”

Sam rubbed at her jaw and flinched at its tenderness. “Linda,” she asked in concern. “Will you be in trouble over this… the library I mean?”

Linda shrugged her shoulders, “I expect so,” and then she looked around the conservatory. The room was empty now that all the ghosts had flickered out of sight to follow the ghost called David. “But such things pale into insignificance.”

Smiling sadly at them all, she added. “Tomorrow is not to be a good day for any of us.”

Chapter 22
3
rd
day of April within her time of evening

 

Charity opened her eyes and saw a hazy outline of Alastair standing by the bed.

She waited until the blurriness had gone from her vision and asked
is it done?

But no words came out from her mouth.

She tried talking again, but all that Charity could hear was a muffled sound. She tried waggling her tongue, but it felt as if it wasn’t there.
What have you done to me?

She raised her hands and felt the bandages around her head… her face - but she could feel no tenderness from surgery or stitches. She looked at Alastair and tried talking but again she heard only a rough muffled sound.

She sat up.

He pushed her back down, leant in close and whispered into her ear. “There is but one flaw to the female of the species. They talk.”

Charity raised her good arm and scratched her fingernails down the length of his face.

“You bitch,” he hissed, grabbed at her hand and administered a sedative into her system. “You wanted me to be your creator. Well then… it was up to me to adjust that one small flaw.” Alastair watched Charity’s eyelids flickering… drooping and finally closing - when he was confident that she was sedated, he released his grip, adjusted his tie and made his way out of the room.

 


 

One voice spoke inside Charity’s mind:

 

Swear your allegiance to me.

 

Charity opened her eyes and felt the sedative draining away from her body. She sat up and looked around the room to discover that the sight of the auras had been restored to her. She looked up at the ceiling, the walls and the door; the furniture and flowers - pulling back the bed sheet, she sat forward and looked down at the floor, her feet and her legs.

Taking the energy source from the anger that she was creating, Charity attempted to manipulate it and to her delight, she could. She crafted the heat and moulded it into tiny fireballs and flicked them across the room and at the roses - scorching their petals.

Then she manipulated the element of air and caught the blackened petals and as they hovered, she hesitated… toyed with what she wanted to do with them, smiled in sweet satisfaction and after restoring their shape to rose petals, she decided upon the colour of blood red rather than pinks and yellows.

Concentrating her sights onto her hands, Charity now began to sculpture the gnarled fingers back to those of a young woman’s but she got as far as the skin; the brown spots disappeared… reappeared – flickered and faded.

Sweat beads trickled down her spine and exhaustion swept throughout her body.

She said to the ghost inside her mind;
Okay allegiance swor
n
.

The noise of… something - filled Charity’s mind and she wondered if that was the sound of death laughing?

Who are you?
She questioned the voice residing inside her mind.

 

I am the Saviour.

 

Tilting her head, Charity caught a fragrance that was similar to that of the empty ghosts;
you smell as they… of acid and tar. Who were you before you became empty?

Silence crackled in the room.

Minutes lived and died.

 

Hera.

 

Charity narrowed her eyes at the sound of that name and she filled her mind with a barrage of insults, rage and expletives. And then she tried to shout out her anger but all that she produced was a muffled sound.

Her anger spiralled into a rage at what Alastair had done to her tongue and her inner voice screamed to Hera;
if you think I’m going to swear my allegiance to a vindictive, manipulating bitch_

 

It is done. Do not make the same mistake that my empty ghosts so often do.

 

Looking around the room, Charity realised that whilst she was busy having a rant at Hera, she had lost control of her anger.

The entire surface of the wall in front of her was awash with blackened holes; scorched marks that had puffs of smouldering smoke billowing out of them. She put her hands together, controlled her breathing and reined in the power-force from the emotions that she had just created.

What do you want from me?
Charity’s inner voice asked.
And don’t lie. I know that you want more than my allegiance.

 

Your memories are plentiful and so the empty ghosts that you created are not leaving your vessel. Command them back to me.

 

When she caught the scent of Hera’s lie within the stench of the acid and tar, Charity’s laughter resounded within her mind;
I told you not to lie to me. My empty ghosts will not leave my body that sustains them with life to go into a Void that is Empty. What do you want with them?

 

Cut off their supply of memories.

 

Hera, you still lie to me. It is my stardust that you are interested in - stardust prevents my little army of five ghosts from breaking my vessel. I command them out… you get the stardust. They come back with a vengeance. You really think you can trick me twice?

 

I control who leaves the Void of Emptiness. When they return back to me, I promise you that they will not leave it. Your loyalty will receive the highest of rewards.

 

You can keep your gifts Hera for they are as empty as your ghosts. What use will I have of manipulating the energies when my body is dead? My stardust is protecting me. I would be a fool to surrender it?

 

If you had the power-force of regeneration at your disposal there will be no need for stardust.

 

Charity sniffed for the scent of Hera’s lies but couldn’t smell it? For sure Hera was still lying to her. She delved deeper; tar, acid and bitterness were the only fragrances that she could smell.

 

Attempt once more to sculpture the image you wish to be seen as. Might I suggest that you try with your tongue?

 

She did as Hera suggested and attempted again to manipulate the energies around her. She started with the growth of her tongue without breaking out into a sweat.

Humming a little tune, she rolled a string of ‘Rs’ and set about sculpturing her body and face into an image of a young and beautiful woman.

Then she manipulated resources that cannot be obtained on Earth… Reality and Perception – she wove the force of their power into her image. All of Earth’s creatures who gazed upon Charity’s image would see their own definition of beauty. “To everyone, I am beautiful.”

Charity licked her lips with her tongue and felt the smoothness of her mouth.

 

Sixty seconds to create a piece of art. One second to destroy it.

 

The image that Charity had just perfected - vanished - she stared back at the previous image of the old and withered face.

 

Do we have a deal?

 

Charity sighed aloud, spoke… but again all that arrived was a muffled sound and so using her thoughts, she said to Hera,
You ask a lot of me.

 

Might I remind you again that your loyalty will receive the highest of rewards?

 

Charity stared at her reflection and realised that with the power-force of regeneration at her disposal there would be no need for people like Alastair. She could give to the mortals anything that they desired and hide it all within the inventions of creams
. Besides
, she reasoned to herself;
I do as the mortals do - manipulate the essence of truth until it suits their own needs.

She frowned; how could she trust Hera? Would her mortal body die as soon as her stardust had gone? If so, she would be cast into the Void of Emptiness and claimed by her creations of empty ghosts.

 

I am the commander to the empty ghosts and when the battle commences between us and the mortals we will win? Swear your allegiance to me and when Victory arrives, you will stand by my side and together we will command the species that is to take its rightful place upon the Earth - The empty ghosts.

 

As Charity listened to Hera’s words, she weighed up her chances… worst case scenario would be an early arrival into the Void of Emptiness but if Hera was true to her word and Charity had the ability to regenerate… the possibilities would be endless. Her influence that she would have over the mortals would be enormous.

 

Okay Hera you have made your point. You have my allegiance.

 

When I shroud your memories with Oblivion, weave the stardust into the empty ghosts and command them back to the Void of Emptiness. When they leave your mind the link between you and I will be severed… when you cast your eyes to the sky and see only the mist then my arrival to Earth will be imminent.

 

The screams from the empty ghosts grew piercingly louder, deafening her eardrums. Closing her eyes, Charity tricked them into believing that they would be returning to the mind that was plentiful;
do as I ask and when you return to my vessel, oblivion will be gone.

Hiding the scent from her lie, she waited…

A couple of moments passed by and then peace filtered into her mind as the spindly network of five tendrils drifted out of her head.

The fragrance of Hera’s acid and tar left Charity’s sense of smell and holding her breath in anticipation, she quickly set about sculpturing her body into an image of youth & beauty.

Hera had kept true to her word.

Sixty seconds later and she was gazing back at her beautiful reflection.

“Alastair... Alastair… Alastair,” she whispered. “What is to be the fate for you?”

When she had decided what it was to be, she walked the corridors until she found a telephone, dialled 999 and when it was picked up she whispered. “You have got to help me. I am Charity, the Face of Youth and Beauty you have_.”

“Emergency. Which service?” The voice on the other end asked.

“The police. I need the police. I am Charity. You must know who I am? Mr Herringbone is going to kill me. Please help me. He won’t let me leave the clinic… he keeps me drugged but I’ve managed_.”

“Charity of course…” the voice gasped into the ear-piece.

“Help me you’ve got to help me.”

“A police car is on its way_.”

“I can hear him. Oh God he’s going to kill me_.”

Dropping the telephone receiver so that it clattered against the wall she walked back to her room, made a sound of gentle laughter, sent her echoes tinkling along the rooms, corridors and floors - ensuring that they would only be heard by Alastair. When she had wrapped the bandages around her head and restored the scorched wall back to its whiteness, she got into bed and listened to the sound of hurried footsteps.

Alastair appeared at the doorway a little out of breath from running down the stairs. He frowned over at Charity and could have sworn he had heard her laughing… the old laugh.

He walked over to her bedside, looked down at her bandaged face and whispered softly. “I will reconstruct your face but it will be on my terms_.” he stopped at the sight of Charity’s fingers twitching;
she should be out cold.

He hurried out of the room and was back within minutes holding a syringe filled with a paralytic drug.

But as he was about to administer it into Charity, the syringe was knocked from his hand.

“Mr Alastair Herringbone. I am arresting you for the kidnapping and false imprisonment of Charity…”

Alastair stared at the policeman stupefied, listening and now he tried to struggle out from the arm lock, but another policeman grabbed his other arm and held that equally as tight.

“Get off me you idiots!” Alastair shouted and struggled to get out from their hold. “Let me go. I have not kidnapped Charity. Let me go!”

The policeman on his left, said. “That’s not what Charity has told us.”

Alastair laughed… coughed but then spluttered when Charity began to talk.

“That man has been holding me captive. He is obsessed with me.”

“You…” Alastair spluttered “how can you speak…”

Charity got up from the bed, unravelled the bandages from her face.

Alastair stared at her beauty; his eyes softened and his desire for her returned instantly.

But his thoughts whirled around in his mind.

His eyes flickered over Charity’s face then to the floor as he tried to process what was happening.
But I saw her face?
Alastair looked up at her face, neck and hands…
smooth – unblemished - unwrinkled. How
?

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