Spectre Antiques

'We’d only been there about ten minutes when we heard the sound of a Viking horn...the horn to signal the start of the hunt for souls. Eerie it was, it made me shiver more than the icy droplets running down my spine. I told them we should go, right there and then, I did, I told them to get out. But they just thought it was someone having a laugh. With Halloween in a few days they thought it was just a wind up. 'They took the mickey and called me a coward. But I just knew something was wrong. There wasn’t a breeze at all that night and yet the circle of trees started to sway. The other trees of the wood were totally still. I thought I heard a whisper, telling us to run—but they thought I was making it up. In the end we had an argument and I decided I’d had enough and left them to it. It was really scary walking back to the lane on my own but it was better than staying there. ‘As I started down the lane I heard noises coming towards me. In amongst some unusual rattling noises and cracking I could make out dogs and horses breathing heavily. I jumped into the woods and hid behind a tree, just in time. I peeked around the side of the tree and saw hunting dogs racing up the lane—chasing after the scent of something...or someone. But they weren’t even real hunting dogs—they were just the skeletons of them. The white bones were lit up bright by the moon, their jaws hanging down as if breathing heavily, exposing their vicious teeth. ‘The whinnying of horses was loud, they snorted heavily. I could see the clouds of hot air from their nostrils as they passed. Darker than coal they were, four of them, each wearing a large white feather on the bridal strap at their forehead. They pulled the big black Victorian coach on up the lane, encouraged by a crazy driver: hair the colour of blood flowing back and flicking in the air like the tip of the whip he was using to persuade the horses to gallop.’ Matthew butted in, ‘blood coloured hair? Red, blood coloured?’ It triggered the memory of the lorry driver weeks earlier. ‘Yes, deep blood red. Not ginger like your mate Olly. Matt, are you ok? I can stop if you want?’ ‘No, I’m fine, honest, you can carry on. I want...I need to know’ ‘Well, er, I watched them go on past up the lane. I couldn’t believe it was real – I thought I was having a nightmare and that I’d wake up any minute. But there was a loud blast just to my left, about five metres away. I turned and could just make out this small person with some kind of horn in the trees. He must have been trying to scare out anything hiding. ‘I wanted to go after them, I wanted to get past them if I could and warn Kev and the others that they were coming their way. I couldn’t move though—I was terrified. ‘I did shout out, “Run Kev, Run!” The horn blower looked right at me – I caught his deeply set eyes for just a flash in the moonlight. He sent out a hard blast into the curved ram’s horn and repeated a note three times in quick succession. It was a signal that he’d found a soul. I panicked—they were going to get me. I ran as fast and as hard as I could, down the lane and back towards home.’ ‘And that’s when you bumped into me,’ added Mum to the story. ‘Do you fancy a break?’ Ash huffed, ‘I think I could do with one...a few minutes at least, just so I get it right in my head first.’ They all tried to relax and gather their thoughts. It wasn’t easy. Ash was opening up old wounds and Matthew was concerned that he had very nearly experienced the exact same horror only the night before. To mention his own experience now would probably not help the situation, as he had run into the wood to try and save Chad and his gang. It may make Ash feel even more cowardly and embarrassed. He decided to keep it to himself...for now at least. Ash’s nerves got the better of him. He needed to complete the story and couldn’t hold it in any longer. ‘So...you remember me running down the lane, sis? You were walking back from the chippie with that arty kid—Mickey Collins?’ ‘Oh, Mickey, yes. He was a bit of a drip wasn’t he? I thought I saw him near the school the other week. Maybe his kids go there too? Do you know any Collin’s Matt?’ ‘Only Mickey Collins the art teacher who’s stuck in a coma, Mum. I told you, you never listen to me.’ ‘Sorry hun, I just didn’t connect. Well, anyway, Ash—go on.’ The uncle leant further forwards, ‘well you and him were holding hands and, snogging,’ Matthew pulled a digusted expression, ‘and then I came clattering into you both. I tried to tell you, I did, didn’t I sis?’ ‘You did, luv. But you can understand how difficult it would be for us to believe it. We thought you were messing about – “ghost dogs” and “Victorian coaches and horses”—you can’t blame us really can you?’ She held her brother’s hand tight and sought affirmation, ‘do you?’ ‘No sis, of course I don’t blame you. It wouldn’t have made any sense...not until we found out about Kev and the gang at school next morning. It was the only explanation for all of them running off the edge of the quarry cliff. They must have been running away from the hounds, or the horn.’ ‘But you said nothing about it to Nan?’ asked Matthew. ‘No, never, at least I didn’t. Did you, sis?’ She shook her head. ‘Would you have in our position?’ she asked of her son. Of course, Matthew was in exactly that position. ‘No, I wouldn’t say anything either.’ He at least didn’t feel so guilty anymore about not sharing last night’s experience. ‘So, what did you do?’ It was Ash’s turn to grip a hand. ‘We went back the next night—the three of us—your mother, Mickey and me. We took protection—carried cricket bats and hid steel bars up the sleeves of our coats. I took them to the tree I’d hidden behind. With my torch I pointed out the hoof prints and wheel tracks in the lane. We followed them, four feet apart and four inches wide they were. They took us all the way into the woods, past the circle of trees and on towards the quarry. ‘You’ll find the next bit really difficult to believe...’ he looked to his sister for a confidence boosting nod and smile, ‘...the tracks ran right up to the edge of the quarry—through a gap in the fence and right to the end. Whatever it was it should have been in pieces at the bottom of the quarry with the seven dead bodies of Kev and the gang. But the police found nothing.’ Matthew gulped. There were too many coincidences for comfort. ‘That must have been awful.’ ‘We’ve not finished yet. Whilst we were there we heard rustling in the trees. We thought that maybe it was the police checking the scene again. There were white fluorescent glows, seven human shapes; seven teenage boy sized shapes trying to hide in the trees. But how are you not going to be seen in the dark when you stand out like that? We called out to them...’ Ash had to pause to compose himself, there were more tears; more trembling, more nervous twitching. ‘...they seemed to respond, even recognise our voices. But as they came towards us the horn blew again. The hunt wasn’t over yet, you see, the night before was just to release them from their physical bodies. Now their souls were free...but lost.