This wasn’t forecast, I thought to myself as I looked up at the thick black clouds that were rolling in overhead. The temperature had dropped considerably, a bitter breeze had risen up, blowing in from across the dark waters of the lake.
I tugged my fleece tightly around myself as I pulled my phone from my pocket to check the weather. No signal, just typical!
“I don’t like the look of this weather, we should probably get moving.” My eyes were fixed on the clouds.
“Oh, relax! What’s the worst that’s going to happen, a little bit of rain?” Paul said dismissively, his eyes gazing out on the water.
A knot twisted in my stomach, a tingle of unease stirring deep inside me. Something didn’t feel right, I couldn’t put my finger on exactly what it was, but something was wrong. It wasn’t just the weather, it was something else. It was too silent. There was no bird song, no rustle of the bushes, even the twins were quiet.
The twins!
“Paul, where are the children?” My words snapped out, my eyes darted from left to right. I couldn’t hear them.
“They were playing over in those bushes the last time I saw them.” Paul nodded his head towards a low, tangled thicket.
My head snapped around, eyes searching, ears straining for any sign of Tom or Sarah. There was nothing. A cold fist gripped my heart.
“What’s up with you?” Paul spoke, his brows drawn down into a low frown.
“I don’t like this, Paul. Something isn’t right.” I spoke before calling out, “Tom! Sarah!”
“Jane, calm down! They ran over there just a couple of minutes ago, they couldn’t have gone far. Knowing them, they’re probably hiding somewhere, waiting to jump out on us.”
Pushing myself up from the ground, I stood, eyes fixed on the bushes. My heart was beating frantically against my ribs.
“Tom! Sarah! Come on, answer me now!” The words tore from my throat.
“Come on kids, your mum’s getting worried now.” Paul’s deep voice rose up over mine.
Did he still think that this was all a game?! I started forwards, running towards the bushes, screaming the children’s names as I went. The cold from earlier had returned, it seemed to be gnawing deeply into me.
“Hang on, love!” I heard Paul call out from behind me as he scrambled to his feet.
The first icy drops of rain landed on my face as I charged forward. Every instinct inside me screamed at me, shouted out that there was something very wrong. I could hear Paul behind me, shouting at me to stop. He still thought that the twins were playing a game. I was their mother! I knew that something wasn’t right.
The thorns and branches tore at my trousers, snagged and pulled my fleece top, scratched my cheeks. The bushes themselves seemed to be trying to hold me back, but I wouldn’t stop. I fought my way through as blood trickled down my face and hands.
Eventually, after what felt like an endless battle, I burst through the tangled wall. I stumbled forward, falling to my knees. My hands landed in front of me, squelching in something warm, wet and sticky.
My stomach twisted violently inside my belly, bile rose up into my mouth as my eyes registered the scene before me. Vomit splattered on the ground beside me while I coughed and choked on the burning, acidic sensation in my throat. A raw, chilling scream tore from my breast.
“Oh, Christ!” Paul’s voice choked from somewhere behind me.
The stench! A sickly sweet, metallic twang hung heavily in the air. Where my hands had landed, a thick, viscous substance oozed up between my fingers. It stained my hands and splattered my jacket with a deep crimson red.
Blood!
My stomach twisted again, emptying its contents once more onto the ground beside me. I could hear Paul retching behind me.
The ground was covered, thick and glistening, dark and red.
In the middle of the thicket lay a twitching mass of red meat. A beast. Its skin torn from the body, leaving nothing but a bleeding, mutilated lump of flesh, exposed muscle, veins and tendons. Its belly had been slashed open, its entrails scattered across the ground haphazardly. A steady, rhythmic pulse of blood splurted from its lacerated limbs.
Its one remaining eye fixed on me, there was nothing but terror and agony in its glazed stare. The other eye was little more than a mangled, bloodied socket. It was alive, but barely, its legs twitching pathetically as the last remaining moments of the poor creature’s life bled out before me.
Springing to my feet, I turned on Paul. Fists clenched tightly, nails bit into my palms. I pounded on his chest, thumping him with everything that I had, leaving blood red prints on his white sweater. I had known something wasn’t right, but he had refused to believe.
“Why didn’t you listen! I told you something was wrong! Why didn’t you keep a closer eye on them?” I spat the words at him, our faces just inches apart.
“Jane, it’s a deer. It was probably attacked by wolves or something.”
“Wolves?! There are no wolves around here, you idiot!” I shoved my husband away from me, my eyes darting wildly from left to right. “Sarah! Tom!”
The rain was starting to come down heavier now, an ominous peel of thunder rolled overhead.
Something caught my eye, a glint of something shining in the blood soaked dirt. I bent down, my fingers closing around a small plastic hair clip. The galloping unicorn, once a brilliant pink, was now stained a dull brown red.
“Sarah!”
There was no reply. Paul’s voice now added to my desperate calls, an urgency, a panic had finally set into his tone.
Suddenly a voice rose up above our panicked cries. A girl’s voice.
“Sarah?” I called out my daughter’s name again.
“Jane!” Paul gestured towards the edge of the thicket.
Standing with her back to us was a young girl, probably around the same age as the twins. Blonde hair, knotted and unkempt fell to her waist. She wore a dark woollen dress. Softly she sang, a haunting lullaby, the tune seemed vaguely familiar but the words in Norwegian, I couldn’t understand.
“Kirsten? Are you Kirsten?” Paul spoke in a low, slow voice.
My body shook. I didn’t feel the rain that was now hammering down on us. Inside I was seething with raw emotion, somewhere between panic and rage, it seared my insides, twisted my gut.
“Where’s Tom and Sarah? What have you done with them?” How could Paul sound so calm when my words came out as a screech?
“You’re a good mummy, but they’re going to be playing with me now.” The girl’s voice scraped and rasped as she spoke. No longer the sweet voice of a young girl. It was the voice of something else, something ancient.