"A Cry In The Night" by Sabrina E G Withers

Willow Grove, Mosslea 1997

Lucy Waters was enjoying a nice cup of coffee in her newly bought home. The grass in her garden had barely begun to grow again after the builders had vanished from the close. It was a clear night, but Lucy had decided to stretch out on her sofa to read a book, rather than brave the oncoming autumn air and sit on her patio. She had just reached a rather gripping section of the plot when a cry broke through the air. Alone in the house, her whole body tensed. A second cry followed the first.

Forcing her muscles to relax, she set her book down gently and rose to her feet. The sound echoed again and this time she realised what it was, a baby crying, calling out to anyone to help it. She considered picking up her phone but was not sure whom to call about such a thing, and something in the sound pulled at her heart. Quickly scooping up the blanket that lay over the edge of the sofa, she headed out of the door. Her slippers slid a little on the damp path but she opened her back gate not wanting to delay by getting proper shoes.

A small copse of trees, the only one around as the developers had removed the rest, loomed ahead of her. The crying got louder as she approached them but it sounded like the baby was starting to weaken. Though the nights were drawing in, the light of the moon was enough for Lucy to see by. She spotted movement to her left and headed towards it. Tripping slightly, she abandoned her slippers in her need to reach the sound.

A flash of pale skin drew her eyes to the small naked baby lying on its back, its mouth open in now silent screams as tears trailed down its cheeks. Lucy fell to her knees and in a swift movement wrapped the child in the blanket, pulling it towards her. The baby shuddered once then seemed to settle. An eerie giggle echoed around Lucy and she glanced about fearfully. The baby gurgled happily. Lucy looked down into its face and watched as it opened its eyes. The black voids staring at her seemed to absorb all the light around them. She never had the chance to scream.

Mosslea – Present Day - University Library

Sarah, better known as Sarrie, chewed the end of her pen as she contemplated the bizarre twist of fate that had caused her lecturer to partner her with the strange Goth girl currently sitting by the library computer. I am not prejudiced, Sarrie mentally affirmed at her reticence to talk to the girl. Probably due to the fact that the only visible part of the girl were her eyes, dark green above the white bandanna across her face. A part of her wondered if the girl was not a bit warm with the hoodie pulled up over the dark hair. I could be in town having fun instead of babysitting; she huffed, brushing a hand through her brown floppy fringe. With a sigh she threw her pen down and flipped the page of book, trying to think of a way to start a conversation.

“I’m not easily offended.” The comment from the direction of the computer was low, but Sarrie knew it was directed at her. She gave a small smile to hide her embarrassment as she considered her own mental commentary.

“What makes you think I was planning on offending you?” Sarrie asked, receiving a shrug as a reply.

“Just saying.” The constant click of keys as she typed stopped. “I’m Raj. In case you had forgotten.”

Sarrie could not cover her blush this time however, for Raj was correct, she had forgotten.

“Sarrie,” she stated, reaching out a hand. Raj looked at it a few moments then took it in a brief shake. My word, the girl is wearing gloves, Sarrie’s mind exclaimed at the feel of leather under her fingers. She pulled her hand away a little faster than she had intended to.

“Skin condition,” Raj muttered self-consciously.

“I really am making a hash of this,” Sarrie said, trying to break the nervous silence that threatened between them. The green eyes wrinkled sympathetically.

“You are doing better than most. You're trying to be nice.” The slight teasing tone was enough to set Sarrie laughing.

“So this program we are supposed to be writing.” Sarrie said, deciding it was about time they got down to business.

“Uhm,” the syllable was filled with guilt. Sarrie gave Raj a suspicious glance as she turned the screen towards her. “You mean this program?”

Sarrie blinked at the lines of code on the screen, trying to get her brain to focus. The ordered modules of text meant only one thing.

“You...you finished it.”

“It was kind of an easy program. I only did the necessary bit.” Raj added hastily. “You can add to it to get a higher mark.”

Sarrie smiled, inwardly relieved at not having to do any work for once.

“I,” Sarrie paused, looking at the code more closely. “How will I know what each bit does?”

“I annotated it because I used some very strange names for things. I hope that's okay.”

“It’s not important what you call them. It’s what you want them to do that matters. I mean, I have a tendency to call all my SQL variables squirrel.” A name she had happily borrowed from a friend when he had given her a piece of example code. “So why put two people who are perfectly capable of making the program themselves in a group together?” She thought aloud.

“I think they were more hoping you would get me to talk.”

“Talk,” Sarrie repeated, suddenly aware that this was in fact the most she had ever heard out of Raj's mouth since her arrival three weeks ago. She was impressed that her lecturer had thought she would be capable of such a task but as she routinely babbled in front of the rest of the class, she should not have been surprised. “Well what would you like to talk about?” She asked.

“I don't suppose you know where the Goth club is?”

“Goth Club?” Sarrie said, trying to think where any of the clubs in town were. “I think there is a club on the industrial estate that is,” she waved a hand trying to think of a suitable word, “different.” All right, she thought, not the best choice but all she had.

“Different. Right,” Raj laughed. “I take it from that comment that you have never been there?”

“I don’t go clubbing much,” Sarrie admitted, ignoring the feeling that she might just be missing out on something. Yeah, her brain commented, drunkenness and idiots. “Besides it’s not safe for single females to wonder round there.”

Raj’s eyes softened and she gave Sarrie a calm look.

“Don’t worry about me. There’s no Yorkshire Ripper around here.”

“Well, if you believe the gossip, we do have a few legends of our own. A bit like that American hook man,” she smiled, thinking that had been a particularly absurd legend.

“I don’t believe in urban legends,” Raj stated. Her eyes seemed to crinkle in a smile, as if she had made a personal joke, but Sarrie was not sure what it could be.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

Her day had finished badly; Sarrie decided when she finally got home. Here she was in a house that normally had four occupants and she was alone, with nothing to do. The walk back from the university in the dark had also not helped her mood. Darn Raj and that talk about urban legends, she had ended up jumping at every shadow and unexplained noise the whole way home. She wished she had been able to be half as blasé about things that lurked in the night as Raj had been.

“I suppose it has something to do with being a Goth, this complete lack of fear of the dark,” Sarrie muttered, though she dismissed the idea shortly afterwards. The silence around her bothered her so she switched on the television, turning up the volume as much as she could stand. She sat in front of it a few moments before she gave in to the fear coursing through her and went to switch all the lights on around the house. The light soothed her slightly, though she hated herself for each time she turned on a light that she did not need.

“Environmentalism,” she growled, “not really something you should be able to pick and choose.” However she did not stop what she was doing. She returned to the living room moments later and nervously curled up on the sofa.

“There is no one else here,” she muttered in reassurance, despite knowing that that was in fact the problem. She tried to relax and stretch out in front of a Friends repeat showing on channel 4. She had never really had an issue with being alone before moving to Willow Grove. The urban legend going round campus was creepy but she had not paid it any attention. At least, that had been until last week.

“Stupid, blasted prankster,” Sarrie sighed when she shifted again, still not comfortable. She thought back to the police interview, when they had shown the party goers the cassette tape and sternly asked them not to reprise the prank in future. Of course nobody had taken credit for the idea and now Sarrie was suffering the consequences. There was nothing that messed with your head more than an over-active imagination that knew it was lying to you. A resounding bang filled the room, sending a jolt through her system until she realised it came from the television.

“You're just jumping at shadows.” She managed to relax again but just as she settled a cry echoed through the air. The shriek was high pitched, and so unlike the prankster's tape that at first she did not realise that it was a baby crying. Irrational fear filled her as she tried to work out where it was coming from as the television was on an advert break with puppies.

“Nothing strange, nothing out there,” she intoned. “You watch this sort of stuff all the time…Oh, who am I kidding?” It was one thing to watch creepy things, but something else entirely to realise it could happen to you. She scrambled for her phone and scrolled through her phone list just wanting to hear another human voice. The steady ring dragged out until Sarrie thought it would flick over to voice mail.

“Hello?” A bemused voice said, sending relief through her system.

“Uhm, hi,” Sarrie replied, “it's Sarrie.” The false cheer in her voice was not enough to mask her fear.

“Are you alright? You sound a bit...” Sarrie lost the last of the sentence as the cry filled the air again. Something about it tugged at her heart but her fear kept her still.

“Did you hear that?” she whispered. A part of her pointed out that whispering was not necessary but she could not get herself to repeat her words.

“Hear what?”

“The baby crying.” The line went so silent after her words that Sarrie thought it had been cut off.

“Where do you live?” The query was urgent, but she hesitated with her reply. “Your address!” The second harsher request pulled it out of her.

“19 Willow Grove.”

“I'll be right there.” This time the call really did end. Sarrie grabbed the remote and raised the volume of the television before curling up with a pillow over her ear, the cries still resounding in her head. The next time the cry called out she would not have heard it had not her television suddenly shown a silent blue screen. She channel hopped quickly, each subsequent blue screen making her more anxious.

“All five channels, damn it. Now I wish I’d agreed to the freeview.” She threw the remote away from her in frustration, wincing when she heard it connect with the patio doors. Warily she got up and went to retrieve it. She hesitated in front of the clear glass doors, the darkness outside could hide anything and the huge expanse of black worried her. A small smudge on the glass caught her attention as she bent to pick up the remote. Leaning forward she realised that it was a small hand print, ice forming around it. The cry sounded again and Sarrie stumbled backwards ignoring the remote and scrambling for the phone again.

~~~~~~~~~~~~

A loud banging from the door sounded round the living room, roughly twenty minutes later. Sarrie looked around hastily for something to use as a weapon; her eyes fell on the collapsible tai chi sword her Chinese friend had given her. Not an entirely rational move, she thought, but then fear is never rational. Picking it up she flicked her hand to extend the blade. The swish as the sections clicked into place was soothing and she cautiously moved to the door.

“Sarrie, let me in,” the words were obviously Raj's and Sarrie quickly opened the door. Raj was breathing shallowly as if she had just completed a run. Sarrie's eyes moved to the object in her hand. Raj seemed to note her interest, self-consciously stuffing what seemed to be a salt cellar into her pocket. Without a word she stepped passed Sarrie into the house.

"Close the door,” Raj said and Sarrie complied, feeling a little uncertain around this slightly more assertive side of Raj. Sarrie watched as Raj took in every detail of the room around her before stopping near the patio doors, staring into the darkness.

“There’s no baby,” Raj commented finally. Sarrie shrugged feeling a little self-conscious now that she was not alone anymore.

“It stopped about 10 minutes ago,” she admitted. There was an uncomfortable silence before Raj asked.

“Why did you call me?”

“Well,” Sarrie said considering her words. ““I was frightened.”

“I noticed.” Raj gestured towards the sword. “But, why me?”

Turning away from her, Sarrie truly considered her actions for the first time that evening. Ignoring whether or not her fear was real she had to wonder why in such a situation she had called a stranger for help.

“I…you…you seemed like someone who could take care of herself,” Sarrie said as she collapsed the sword. Earlier that day she had felt she could trust Raj, but she was not sure how to convey this to her without sounding strange.

“Why not the police?” Raj asked, seeming to accept the words without further comment. When Sarrie looked back towards her, Raj had moved to seat herself on one of the chairs near the kitchen.  She had also lowered her hood. Sarrie was surprised to find that black was not Raj’s natural colour, instead her roots and most of the hair on her head was white. Not really a colour she had thought was natural, well except in old age and Raj was no older than she was. Shaking herself she realised she had not answered Raj’s question.

“I called them, just after I called you. The noise stopped the moment they approached.” She perched on the arm of her sofa in an attempt to relax.

“It would,” Raj said and Sarrie could have sworn she smiled. She frowned, confused at the comment. It certainly was not a logical statement, she mused, and police do not make babies stop crying just by their presence, unless it really is a serial killer. She shuddered slightly at the thought.

“They're guardians,” Raj said, seeming to come to some internal decision. “Ok, not actual guardians but it's the symbolism that counts. That thing out there won't come near as long as they are around. It is frightened of them.”

Sarrie hesitated in her response as Raj slowly removed her bandanna. Sarrie could not contain the gasp at the scars that covered Raj's cheeks and broke her lower lip. Raj shifted uncomfortably as Sarrie scrutinised her. No wonder the teacher allow her to wear that stuff in class, Sarrie sighed, forcing herself to stop staring and refocus on the words she had said.

“I’m sorry, that didn’t quite make sense. Thing?” Sarrie asked. “What do you mean by thing?”

“I'm not sure what it is yet so that's the best description I can give.”

“What it is?” Sarrie said, suddenly feeling very ill at ease. “As in, not a serial killer or prankster?” She was feeling sceptical, and somewhat bemused, she realised, and beginning to wonder if inviting this strange girl to her house had been a good idea.

“Killer? Possibly, but not a prankster. I couldn't hear it through the phone.”

“If it's a killer surely the police will apprehend him?” Sarrie asked, focusing on the part of her sentence that made sense.

“Not that kind of killer.”

Sarrie gave Raj a look of confusion. A flash of headlights, with a flicker of blue, filtered through the patio doors making Raj look up.

“I think the police are going now,” she stated.

“How do you...” Sarrie trailed off as a cry filled the air. An image filled her mind of an infant, reaching out, struggling for breath. The second cry was louder than what she had heard earlier and she was on her feet and moving before she realised what her body was doing. She felt Raj grab hold of her arm roughly, stopping her from opening the patio doors.

“It calls to you. Asking you to come to it, like a siren. That's no prankster.” Whatever had caused her to rush to the door faded as she took in the pain from the grip Raj had on her. She shuddered and, when Raj released her, moved back to the sofa. It may not be a prankster, she thought, but it could just be my maternal side reaching out to the child, nothing strange or weird.

“What do you think it is?” Sarrie turned to Raj finally.

“A ghost, I think, a vengeful spirit.”

“It's just a baby,” Sarrie countered, realising from the tone in Raj’s voice that she truly believed it.

“That doesn't stop it from being a killer,” Raj commented blithely. Sarrie shook her head sceptically. Ghosts are not real, her logical mind could not accept that this was not so. A sudden memory from Raj arriving at the door distracted her.

“What was the salt cellar for?”

“Salt repels spirits and other creatures. It contains the mystical, stops it getting free,” Raj explained as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

“How do you know things about ghosts? I thought you were a computer geek?” The incredulous tone in her voice made Raj smile broadly, crinkling the scars over her face.

“They aren't mutually exclusive. My parents were medievalists and mythology nuts. My first books were about such things.” Raj shrugged. “You ever see Supernatural?”

“That American show?” Sarrie asked, confused at the switch in topic. She frowned, not sure of the relevance it had to her current situation.

“Don’t give me that look,” Raj commented. “They do their research. Not everything is true, but enough.”

“So rock salt in a shotgun works?” Sarrie scoffed, suddenly remembering a stray detail from the only episode she had watched.

“It’s a method.” Raj removed the salt cellar from her pocket and placed it on the table. “With gun laws in Britain however, it’ll get you arrested. I prefer a less painful method. To us that is,” Raj added. Sarrie smiled, the light conversation partially dispelling her nervousness, though her smile almost faltered as she remembered that what they were talking about was not hypothetical. She did not think it was a ghost; in fact her mind rebelled at the idea. However something about the way Raj talked about it like it was normal was starting to make Sarrie doubt her own certainty. She reached for the salt cellar, but hesitated as she noticed a red droplet on the edge of it. Her eyes glanced over to Raj’s hand. A slow steady trickle was moving down her glove.

“Your arm,” Sarrie said, in shock. “It’s bleeding.”

Raj looked at her hand surprised.

“Damn,” she muttered, before laying her arm on the table. She rolled up her sleeve and Sarrie was shocked to see yet more scars. A bandage covered part of her arm and as Sarrie watched, it steadily grew redder. Raj dug into her pocket again and pulled out a roll of white material. With practised ease she wrapped it around the previous bandage. Sarrie wanted to ask but she was not sure she wanted to know the answer. Another cry in the air made them both tense.

“Does it call to you?” Sarrie asked, fighting the pull in the air, which seemed to tug at her heart.

“No,” Raj stated, as she rolled her sleeve down again. “It seems to have picked you.”

“Why?” Sarrie strode away angry and confused, ghosts were not meant to exist. She turned back when Raj did not comment. “You seem very comfortable with all this.”

“Comfortable,” Raj said the word cynically. “Do you have any iron?”

“Iron? Is that like the salt thing?” Sarrie said, frustrated and suddenly no longer caring that this all seemed insane.

“Yes.” Raj said, looking around. “It’s a pity; it’s becoming rarer as a used source. Plastic, though cheap, is not as functional against ghosts.”

Sarrie considered the options, trying hard to ignore the impulse to follow the tug that was still in the back of her mind.

“I have a casserole dish.” Sarrie offered. “It’s that or the teapot stand. I think the candlesticks are fake,” she mused. Raj moved to the kitchen as directed by Sarrie’s vaguely pointing hand.

“The casserole lid should be fine. The pot itself might be a little heavy.”

The cry tore through the house again, at once pitiful and angry. Sarrie did not have time to deflect the pull it exuded, her muscles heading the almost primeval call. The heavy weight that slammed into her sending her to the floor snapped her out of the despair she could feel. She shifted uncomfortably as she felt what had to be the television remote digging into her back.

“I think you can get off me now,” she grunted, unable to fully breathe with the weight of Raj on top of her.

“Sorry,” Raj mumbled apologetically. She helped pull Sarrie to her feet, wincing sympathetically when she noticed what she had fallen on. “I suggest you go into the kitchen first, puts me in-between you and any exits.”

Still a little shaken, Sarrie allowed herself to be shunted first into the minute space that constituted a student kitchen. Pots and pans lay everywhere, nobody having done the washing up for three days. Sarrie reached out and dug under one slightly cleaner pile, pulling out the lid.

“What are you planning on doing with it?” She asked as she turned it over to Raj.

“I’ll need it when I go outside.”

Sarrie watched as Raj pulled on a red string that hung loose from her hoodie. Breaking it with a quick tug she started to wind it round the lid handle.

“Outside?” Sarrie said surprised, looking at Raj like she was mad. Raj just calmly continued tying the string. “What is that for?” Sarrie said finally, her curiosity getting the better of her.

“The red string symbolises blood in witchcraft. I’m tying it round this to strengthen the link between it and me. It’s a symbol thing…”

“But it works.” Sarrie finished with a sigh. Witchcraft was sounding awfully logical in a strange sort of way. “And the reason for going outside?”

“Is to stop this thing,” Raj said, hefting the lid like she was testing the weight. “And to stop it I need to know what it is.” She added as she left the kitchen. Sarrie followed her, watching as she prepared herself to walk outside.

“So if blood makes magic stronger, is that why?” Sarrie motioned self-consciously at Raj's arm. Raj turned her head away slightly.

“No,” she said quietly. “Blood magic is dangerous, unpredictable, recourse of the desperate and insane. I endeavour to be neither of those things.”

Realising that she had touched on a sensitive topic Sarrie moved to join Raj at the patio doors.

“What now?” She asked, strangely aware of how quiet it seemed around them. She watched Raj open the patio doors and just had time to catch the mouthed apology when the cry rang out again. The garden passed in a blur and she was out the back gate before she could force herself to stop. Biting her lip to block out the pull of the cries she turned an angry look at Raj as she approached, hurt at what she had done.

“I can hear the cries, probably better than you can, but you are the only one getting directions.” Raj shrugged nonchalantly in an effort to hide the guilt in her eyes.

“You are using me as bait,” Sarrie said incredulously, she turned to return to the house, scared to be so close to where the ghost might be. Raj took hold of her arm gently and did not deny the accusation.

“I will die before you do,” she stated calmly. That sounds a lot like a promise to me, Sarrie thought, horrified that someone would offer their life for hers. She realised that Raj had meant it to be reassuring but it was not. However she nodded her acceptance of her words and decided that if Raj was willing to face the ghost she would face it also. Focusing on the crying and the feelings that came with it she turned until she was sure she was facing the sound.

“It’s coming from over there,” Sarrie said pointing.

“Don’t fight it,” Raj advised. “That way you’ll have more freedom over what you do. It only has to control you because you are resisting,”

For the second time that evening she placed her trust in the person next to her and relaxed, allowing the next cry to carry her forwards. Raj did her best to flank her as she moved towards the small copse of trees in the distance. That casserole dish makes her look like a knight, Sarrie mused, though I really should be comparing Raj to the court magician.

“Do you know what Mosslea means?” Sarrie asked, needing to think about something other than what she was walking towards.

“No,” Raj admitted. “I never got into the name side of things.”

“Strange, considering the emphasis you put on symbols.”

Raj blushed, darkening the skin around her scars.

“Yes, I suppose it is. But my parents were a little too enthusiastic about what names meant.”

“Lea is a type of woodland clearing much like the ones we are approaching, also later it was used for meadow.” Sarrie explained enthusiastically, etymology was a favourite hobby of hers. “Moss is a type of wetland.”

Much to her surprise Raj stop dead in her tracks, but still letting the ghost lead her Sarrie moved onwards, her fear growing as she neared the trees.

“A drowned child,” Raj’s voice came from behind her. “That’s who the spirit is. A child drowned on this site when it was still a wetland. It would explain its strength and anger.” She hastily caught up with Sarrie again.

“But the rumours of a killer only started recently.”

“This development is kind of new. It was probably dormant until we got too close to it.”

Sarrie realised that by we Raj meant civilisation in general.

“So you mean it…woke, when we encroached on ground it has kept for itself for however long it has been around…” she sighed dramatically at the absurdity of what she was saying. “This is turning into one of those Ancient curse films.”

Raj laughed even as the cry from the ghostly baby called out again. Sarrie grit her teeth slightly as the force of the tug seemed to increase.

“So are you the comic relief or the plucky heroine?” Raj asked.

“The plucky heroine,” Sarrie responded quickly. “She has a higher chance of survival.”

“Good thinking.” Raj smiled, seeming to stumble slightly as the ground moved under their feet. The ground cannot be doing what I think it is; Sarrie stared at the slight movement of the soil beneath her feet. It seemed to be smoothing out in front of her, easing her path while creating potholes and sending up roots where Raj tried to follow. The next cry that tore through the air distracted her, demanding all her attention and she felt how the wind whipped past them.

“Damn,” she heard Raj cry out behind her and Sarrie realised that she had stumbled, lost her footing and fallen. The pull of the ghost was too strong however for Sarrie to wait for her as she neared the centre of the trees. Giggles filled the air and Sarrie hugged herself closely for the sound was malevolent and she feared the ghost had guessed Raj’s purpose. Her eyes widened as several stones rose from the ground, flying past her, but the battle in her mind hindered her from looking back.

“So it’s going to be like that is it?” Raj called out, reassuring Sarrie of her presence. “Well, two can play at that game.”

Curious at Raj’s words, Sarrie fought to turn her head. She was just in time to see Raj lift the casserole lid before her, muttering under her breath. Sarrie watched wide mouthed as Raj released the lid and it remained hanging in the air unaided. Sarrie quashed the expletive she felt rise in her throat, as the lid then moved, knocking the rocks from their deadly path. Another cry pulled her head back round and she stumbled forward, focusing on the, now visible, baby lying on the ground amongst the trees. The picture was exactly as she had seen it in her mind back at the house. Wide mouthed it called out to her. There was absolutely no doubt in her mind now that she was facing a ghost but the despair it was exuding banished her attempts to break away. She rushed the last few steps, falling to her knees before it, ignoring the pain of the impact. She reached out with a tremulous hand and touched the babe’s leg, surprised at the warmth beneath her fingers. Unable to stop herself Sarrie reached out and lifted the baby towards her. The scream of triumph as it turned its eyes on her echoed around her but did not drown out the words that followed it.

“Not this one!”

Fear filled Sarrie as she felt the world fade around her as she looked into the dark black orbs that were in place of the child’s eyes. However Raj’s voice broke through the fear.

“You will not touch her!”

A dark shape flew through the ghost in her hands and with a jolt she was released from its hold. She watched in surprise as it faded like mist. A high pitched shriek filled the air, forcing Sarrie to cover her ears until it cleared. She slumped forward, suddenly feeling drained, catching herself on one hand. Glancing to her left, she noticed the casserole lid embedded in the ground, as if thrown with huge force.

“Sarrie, move!” She heard Raj urge and Sarrie frowned at the weakness she could hear in Raj’s voice. She turned to look at Raj who looked like she was on the edge of sleep. Whatever Raj had done to rescue her seemed to have taken its toll.

“Is it gone?” she asked as she rose to her feet slowly, not sure she could trust her own senses or the loss of the tug on her heart. Raj looked past her at the trees and Sarrie saw the fear in her eyes. She glanced round to see the leaves moving against the wind.

“It’s coming back, move it now!” Raj cried and Sarrie obeyed without hesitation. She forced her legs to run and made it to Raj’s side before she felt a tug on her arm. Chill fingers wrapped around her and she gasped in pain as the cold penetrated to the bone. They both turned their eyes towards her arm and saw the ghostly hand resting there. Sarrie felt Raj grab hold of her shirt, anchoring herself against the pull of the child. The material strained under Raj’s fingers as the pull became greater.

“What did it look like?” Raj asked through gritted teeth.

“It was just a normal child,” Sarrie whispered distraught, her mind refusing to focus at the adrenaline beating round her bloodstream. “Just a child.”

The material in Raj’s hand slipped slightly and Sarrie felt the jerk through her entire body.

“Something was different about it though,” Raj maintained, her feet scrambling for grip on the suddenly seething ground.

 “It had no eyes,” Sarrie stated, shuddering as she remembered. “They were just empty.”

A surprised look covered Raj’s face.

“Eyes mirror the soul,” Raj said. Her eyes became distant and Sarrie realised that the ghost had been looking for such a lapse in concentration, as the chill hand steadied. A rock glanced off Raj, making her instinctively shield herself, releasing Sarrie who flew backwards as the force pulling her finally won control. She cried out in pain as the branches of the trees around her twisted and turned to break her fall. A giggle from the baby once again filled the clearing and Sarrie landed with a thud below where it was now floating in the air. She tried to fight the siren song in her mind but her eyes moved to look at the child of their own accord.

“Sarrie,” she heard Raj call to her. “I know this might sound insane but,” she strained to listen to Raj’s final words as the wind started to howl fiercely around them. “Give it a name!”

“What?” She cried confused.

“Give it a name!” Raj repeated. Feeling panic rise within her, she gave Raj one last look before shouting out at the top of her lungs.

“AMADI!” The word hung in the air of the suddenly eerily quiet clearing. “I name you, Amadi,” she said again, suddenly aware that the pull on her had again vanished. The ghostly child floated towards her slowly and, nervously, Sarrie looked it in the eyes. She watched in awe, as the dark orbs seemed to lighten and true human eyes shone back at her. A gurgle of delight echoed from the baby’s lips before it faded from view.