David woke up in a fearful sweat. A tightness, one latched upon his chest, started to fade. He sat up in Fred’s bed and wiped the sweat from his face. He sighed through his nose.

  Another restless night… I’m getting sick of this shit…

  He looked to the window. He could see a sliver of morning light appearing between the curtains and cutting through the dust in the air. He yawned, stretching his arms and his aching muscles. He threw his legs out of the bed and slapped the back of his head to shake off the sleep from his mind.

  He twitched in agony when he laid some pressure on his left hand. The bandage that he raided in Fred’s bathroom provided much needed healing.

  He analysed his wound. It had stopped bleeding, but it felt very raw and smelled like pus. He gently peeled the bandage off to peek inside. There was a delicate film of white plasma covering the wound and a thin ring of scabs surrounded the damage. David was always credited himself as a fast healer. He slowly clenched his hand. It hurt, but he was able to do so. At least that’s some progress.

  With a nod, David stood up and headed for a much needed shower.

  On his way to the bathroom, his right eye twitched and his vision of the past appeared before him with quicker ease. The afterimages of Emily were everywhere. Some Emilys were crouched on the steps of the stairs and huddled up in a crying position. Other Emilys were backing away from the larger Fred afterimages whose fists were raised. David turned away as the Fred afterimages began attacking the Emilys.

  David felt for Emily. And he understood her. What she must have felt when she was staying in this house… That gut-clenching fear, every day and night… Hell. Absolute hell. David placed his hand on the drywall of the landing and rubbed his palm on it. It had a corse feeling that triggered his own memories of staying in such a place as this one. David closed his eyes and thought of Fred downstairs. Lying there dead. He tisked and pushed the memories of his childhood back into his subconscious. He refused to address it. He dared not to.

  Much to David’s pleasure, Fred had a standing shower cubicle. David stripped off his clothes, placed his phone in the empty sink (to amplify the sound through the ceramic echoing of the sink’s bowl) and played a track from his playlist. It was Janis Joplin with her chilled track Kozmic Blues. He turned on the cold water and once he was certain that it was freezing, he stepped right in.

  He hung his head down and allowed the ice water to pound at his neck. He placed his hands on the waterproof wall and sighed as the water passed by his parted lips. His mind went back to his restless sleep. How many times did he have that same nightmare? How many more times would he have to suffer it?

  Try as he could, the memory resurfaced as he stared at his hands. His hands. He closed his eyes and allowed the pain to wash down upon him.

  It was his tenth birthday. No one had come because no one was invited. It was only David and his mother, Judith. He remembered that they were in the living room at the time.

  David was seated on the sofa. Waiting with such exuberant joy that one would smile when they saw him so joyful. They didn't have time to buy a cake, so they made pancakes to celebrate. Pancakes with maple syrup. Those were his favourite.

  The small David smiled as Judith knelt by him. She stroked his hair back and kissed him on his cheek. She told him of how much she loved him. David replied in the same vein as he balanced his pancakes on his thin knees. He was very happy with it was just him and his mother.

  He loved his mother.

  Judith as everything that David imagined a fairy tale mother would be; kind, patient and beautiful.

  All he ever wanted was to find a cottage in England somewhere and runway with her. To live happily every after in peace and harmony- The front door opened and slammed. Both mother and son froze.

  David knew by then of what mood FATHER was in by the sound of the doors that he closed. Normal sounding closings marked for a brooding temperament.

  Slams spoke of a truly enraged temper.

  David’s FATHER entered the room and stared down at them both. David remembered his FATHER’S face. It was red and sweating. It was a hot summer after all. The cigarette, a permanent feature on FATHER’S face, burned bright and hard and left a trail of grey smoke behind him. His eyes were swirling and unfocused. His beard was thick and black. And he was drunk again. He was breathing heavily as he stared down at his victims.

  What is this? What’s all this? You have time to make some fuckin’ pancakes?

  Judith stood up and raised her hands. She wanted peace. For David’s sake, at least.

  It’s his birthday. I thought we celebrate it. Would you like some? Come sit with us.

  You thought? You thought?

  FATHER stomped towards her and stood in front of David, facing down Judith. He knelt down and pulled the plate of food out of David’s hands and held it up at Judith’s face. And then without a warning, he flung it past her head and smashed it hard against the wall.

  WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU THINK I AM DOING OUT THERE!? I AM BUSTING MY GUT TO KEEP A GOD DAMNED HOUSE OVER OUR HEADS WHILE YOU MAKE... MAKE FUCKING PANCAKES!?

  David curled inwards and flinched with terror. He knew what was going to happen and braced himself. And Judith stood her ground. She didn't flinch and stared down FATHER bravely.

  Do what you want. But please. Not in front of David.

  Don’t you fuckin’ tell me what to fuckin’ do, bitch.

  FATHER flicked his eyes down to David. David dared not look up at him. To do that was to defy him. Never. He would never-

  FATHER’S hand appeared in front of him. It was holding a ￡10 note.

  Get some milk, boy. Move it.

  David gingerly took the money out and squeezed past FATHER. FATHER turned around and slapped David at the back of his head as he made it past him.

  Hurry up!

  David nearly ran out of the house, not daring to look back at his parents still standing in the living room.

  Ten minutes flew by when David came back carrying only a carton of milk like he was told.

  He arrived at the house and he could hear her crying and him shouting.

  David’s breathing quickened.

  No. Not again. Please! No!

  He rushed inside.

  I have the milk! He told me to get it! What did I do wrong!?

  David arrived at the living room. But they were not there. So where were they-

  There came a very familiar snap of leather and his mother screamed. From the kitchen. David rushed down the corridor and saw-

  Judith was on the floor. She was curled up into a ball of quivering flesh. FATHER stood over her with that brown, weathered belt in his hands. That belt had seen plenty of use…

  You will respect me, bitch.

  He raised the belt up and brought it down.

  Judith screamed.

  And David snapped. That was it. That was enough. Enough!

  David uncapped the carton of milk and charged for FATHER. David screamed shrilly at him.

  LEAVE HER ALONE!

  FATHER turned about, only to be blinded by milk thrown into his eyes.David leapt up and grabbed FATHER’S neck with both hands and squeezed.

  FATHER whirled about and threw his son to the floor. David slammed onto his back and lost all the wind in him. FATHER bent down on top of him and grabbed his neck. He began to squeeze in return.

  I'll kill you! I'll kill you! You stupid, fuckin’ little bast-

  FATHER’S eyes bulged and his air caught in his throat. He lurched back and turned.

  David saw a kitchen knife sticking in FATHER’S back. FATHER tried to reach for it. But he couldn’t.

  Judith scrabbled back with another knife on her hands. She was crying and terrified.

  FATHER fell onto his hands and knees and began to slowly crawl towards her.

  Judith waved her knife at him for some inane attempt to ward him off. But he was not deterred. David scrabbled to his feet.

  Judith saw him and yelled at him to run. Run away.

  David’s small hands shook and his small heart thudded in his ears.

  He was just as scared as her. But no. He would not run. Not anymore.

  David roared as he jumped onto the man, for that was all FATHER was. Just a man who was attacking his mother. An intense hatred burned in his eyes. The man needed to die. The man had to die.

  David grabbed the knife with both hands and yanked it out with a second roar. The man who was once FATHER gasped and dropped down onto his chest and wheezed out a cry for help.

  David straddled the man and roared for a third and final time as he lifted his blade in hand and struck it down with a final strike onto the monster’s neck-

  David shot out his fist and punched the screen door of the shower so hard that it nearly came off its hinges. The pain from the blow snapped him out from his trance. David was breathing heavily and his eyes were wide and his teeth bared. His eyes opened and he was back in the world of the present. He turned off the shower and sunk to the bottom with his hand over his head. He battled to keep his breath down. His chest was tightening across his ribs. He seemed to be having a panic attack, caused by his trip down his memory lane.

  What the hell was that?

  That was nothing like the nightmares before. That felt so utterly real. As if he was truly there.

  His right eye made a twinge of pain.

  Ah, so that was it. The magic. So not only did it allow him to see the shadows of some pasts… it also unearthed his memories… but in such a vivid way… David rubbed his hands together. He swore that that point that he could still feel the blood on them…

  He slapped his face a couple of times and pulled himself together. Come on then, on your feet!

  He had to get to work, he had no time to worry about his mind.

  He pulled off his left hand’s bandages and allowed the wound to be washed by the cold water in the sink. It definitely looked better than before. Which was good enough for him. He applied a new bandage and searched for the remainder of the vodka to drink.

  After his arduous last night, David found some vodka and doused his hand in it. It stung like hell, he cursed and ranted but bore it with as much tenacity as one could stomach. Now, sterilised and washed, David had no other choice to let it heal alone. If he had medicinal stitches, he would have used them. But he did not and he was not about to go to any hospital.

  As David turned off the shower and stepped out of it, his mind inevitably drew towards the reminder of the body downstairs. He sighed with some small relief. He was glad of what he did. One less scumbag to worry about.

  David stood over the sink and brushed his teeth with Fred’s toothpaste and toothbrush. As he flossed his teeth, David thought about what Fred had said about Emily’s favourite city to go to during the holidays. Brighton. If she is coming back from whatever weirdo place she’s gone to, she’ll eventually turn up there. Hopefully.

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

  He finished his hygienic routine and got changed into Fred’s clothes. No matter what their size was, David had the skill to fit into any type of clothing he wore. Clothes always looked good on him. He sighed with a smile when he found a pair of comfortable walking boots. Fred may have been scum, but he at least had a sense of style. David tried on the boots and immediately fell for them. Now to finally clean up the mess.

  With his earphones back in his ears and his phone turned up to maximum volume, David blasted California Soul by Marlena Shaw through his cranium.

  He raided the house for money and other essentials like beer and food. He finally found seven hundred pounds in Fred’s bedroom cabinet. With his bounty stuffed in a rucksack and a newly lit cigarette in his mouth, David stepped down the stairs to the music.

  He reached the kitchen and found a tall candle.

  He headed over to the adjacent living room and, once melting the bottom of the candle, stuck it on Fred’s coffee table.

  He absentmindedly stepped over Fred’s corpse as he headed back to the kitchen, to where Fred’s gas cooker stood. David nonchalantly turned on all the gas markers (he was careful to have his lit cigarette far from the gas as it arrived). The telltale hiss of gas escaped the cooker.

  With his work done, David walked away from the kitchen, lit the candle on the way and headed straight out of the door. It was a sunny day in London. He stretched his arms and smiled.

  Another glorious day. Now, off to see Father.

  He turned on his heel and headed away from the house.

  It was only seven minutes later when David heard a large explosion coming from the direction of Elsdale Street. He allowed himself a smirk as he continued his stride away.

  He was more than happy to leave that hellhole behind at last.

  David strode down Marylebone High Street. Venus by Shocking Blue matched his temperament. Its jaunty vibes and beating theme influenced his pace. He tapped his shoes and skipped along with the music as he paced down the street.

  He liked this part of London. Apart from the artisan shops and food stores that graced his eyes, there were always plenty of good looking women in this part of the city. From the opposite side of he street, he spied a particularly ravishing brunette seated on an outside cafe table with two women, talking and walking. He watched the woman as he strolled down. She was not tall, nor slim. But there was an aura of sheer beauty emanating from her. He liked it. He didn't take his eyes off the woman as he walked. She was laughing and waving her hands in an eccentric manner that made David nod in approval. It was rare to see someone in the city who had a different point of view. No one spent enough time looking up or just smiling.

  Something small and icy cold tapped his nose. He rubbed his nose and looked up. To his surprise, it was hailing. And yet there were no clouds in the sky. It was a bright morning. David blinked and then shielded his eyes as the hail increased in volume. This drove people into shops and cafes, including the two women. David was himself about to rush along his route to get to the church but then the hail stopped.

  David looked back up and saw that there was no hail indeed. His eyes stared as he watched clouds suddenly shift over the street from seemingly nowhere. He squinted at this unusual cloud cover. His right eye twitched and his view of magic world was back. As if he commanded it to do so. David laughed to himself. This was getting fun.

  The mist of hundreds of colours returned and filled the world. Buildings were outlined and people, present and afterimages, crammed the streets and shops. The sounds of the world remained untouched. But David was staring at the clouds. They were not of the same colour. While the sky retained the similar mixture of colours as the buildings and people, the clouds were of a darker shade. A colour more closely related to black. And the snow- Snow? Yes, indeed the November snow that fell down shared the dark colour.

  Two women in the shop nearest to him were talking about the strange weather. He could hear them.

  “Odd weather this week, wouldn't you say Yvette?” one said.

  “Oh, yes indeed. I hear from Terrance that he saw tornadoes in Ireland.” Yvette replied.

  “Tornadoes in Ireland? Next thing we’ll be hearing about are earthquakes in Kent.”

  “I think there were some a few years ago. I bet you that the dead will be back while we’re at it.”

  David laughed to himself. The dead have already come back, he thought as the memory of the undead pigeon arose in his mind. After turning up his lapels against his neck, David moved through the thickening snowfall that was quickly reducing his rainbow vision. He shook his head and shut off his magic. He couldn't help but feel a small and growing sense of suspicion that the weather was somehow being affected by the craziness that he was involved in.

  David sighed and trudged on.

  My world’s changing day by bloody day with all this magic mojo. The sooner I’m down with this, the better. But first things first.

  He turned right so that he could reach St. James’ Church by Spanish Place. He stopped off his music and stepped inside to gain some much needed shelter.

  The great church of St. James had not changed since David was just ten years old. Grand, majestic and suitably Catholic in design and atheistic, it gracefully loomed over the praying persons who attended the hallowed grounds. There were not too many people in that day despite the bitter weather outside.

  If he had to pray, David would do it in no other church. It was the church that provided him and his mother the needed sanctuary in those dark times… And the peace of such a place of worship soothed the fearful child instantly. And it still did for the adult that now stood within its hallowed chambers.

  David knelt in the aisle and crossed himself accordingly. He chose a seat at the front and there he waited for his chance to talk with the Father.

  He glanced to his left and saw that the confession booth was being used. He would have to wait.

  So he looked to his right and saw a young boy watching at him with curious eyes.

  David smiled and waved. The boy waved back with a wide grin and resumed his prayers.

  David cracked a smirk at the boy’s innocence and closed his hands together himself for a moment to pray.

  To his credit and for all of his faults, David was a somewhat religious man. He held a good belief for Christianity while he had dispatched the ideas of magic with certain disdain. But while that was the case, he did not agreed with all of the Lord’s teachings, especially the ones concerning forgiveness or turning the cheek.

  And now that he could see that magic was truly real, that the dead could be brought back and that there were forces out there beyond his control, David felt a keen sense of his existence whilst he knelt before the Lord.

  He closed his eyes and began his conversation with the unseen God.

  Hello, God.

  It’s me again, David.

  I guess it has been quite a while since I last had a chat with you, right? Well, I can also guess that you may not be very happy with me and with what I have been doing. That doesn't really matter to me though, to be honest with you… I’m not looking for seek forgiveness from you. No. I’d never apologise for what I am.

  And I’m not looking for you to accept what I have done. For it is something I had done and I had to do. It was my choice.

  I- I just can’t sit by and watch people being hurt by those who never receive the pain in return. It’s an injustice. That is all.

  Look, I’m not asking you to say anything or provide me with the answers, okay?! I just- I just want to know that I am doing the right thing! I have killed a lot of people and I haven’t been punished for it. Why won’t you? If it’s so wrong, why haven't you stopped me? Why didn't you stop him? I was happy. But not after that. I- I was ruined by him…

  Now I have to go hunt down her. And this girl… she’s like me. She had a bad childhood and no one to care for her. And now that she’s free, I have to bring her back to Michael. I never hurt women, you know this better than anyone. In my whole life.

  David sighed and rubbed his face.

  But… if I must deliver this girl, a stranger, to Michael to get a chance to bring my mother back? You know damn well that I’ve got to try.

  Alright… I’m also here to ask that you can keep an eye on my mum. And keep another eye on my foster mums. I know they’re happy being up there with you. I really hope they are happy.

  To his left, David could see the churchgoer leaving the confession booth.

  That’s it. So, maybe next time, we can see if what I do next will justify what I had done… Cheers.

  David whipped his hand across his head and body in a rushed penance, stepped up from his seat and quickly edged towards the confession booth.

  Another man was about to make his way towards the small wooden door, but David got there first. He put his hand on the door in a show of forceful ownership and stared down the other penitent man.

  The man, meek and weak in form and spirit, smiled at David pathetically and scurried away from David. David nodded with assurance and stepped inside.

  Father Daniels remained silent as David got himself settled into the kneeled position upon the small pew inside the booth. He clasped his hands together, rested his forehead on his thumbs’ knuckles and spoke.

  “Hello Father.”

  “David. It is good to hear from you.” Father Daniels’s voice was soft and warm, unchanged over the years David had known him.

  “Yes, Father… Forgive me father, for I am sinned. It has been a few weeks since my last confession.”

  “What are your troubles?”

  “I have been harbouring dark thoughts again.”

  “Is that so? What type of thoughts?”

  “Vengeance and a moral dilemma… Shall I start with the vengeance part?”

  “Please do.”

  “Well… I’ve been getting the vibes more often than before. Every time I see a man, I get so angry. I get so fucked off at them- sorry Father for the swearing - I feel so angry…”

  “Understandable. Considering what you have suffered, anyone can feel such feelings. But it is not healthy to transfer the pain of the past and place it into your present and future.”

  “I know that, Father. I do. It’s just that… That’s all I have.”

  “So why confess if you seem to be so comfortable with the anger?”

  “I’m not comfortable with- Look, I don’t know… I guess I just want to hear someone’s opinion…”

  “I am a man, David. Do you feel animosity with me?”

  “No! No, Father- I mean not in the way I feel about other men… You’re a good man, you’re one of the few good ones…”

  “David. There are so many more good men out in the world… if you continue to cloud your eyes with your bitterness and rage from your childhood… you’ll blind yourself to the benevolence surrounding you.”

  “Uh, I don’t think I’m blind to good things, Father. I see women, good ones at that!”

  “Don’t disregard my advice.”

  “I’m not disregarding it. I’m just sidestepping it.”

  Father Daniels sighed, then changed the subject. “How many women have you been with then?”

  David hesitated.

  “David?” Father Daniels asked.

  “I’ve… lost count.” came a sheepish reply.

  Daniels tutted with disapproval. “David… you losing count only proves that you’re happy with just that. Why are you still single?”

  “I saw a girl just now, actually. She looked pretty.”

  “Really? That’s good. But please answer my question.”

  “Ugh! I just don’t feel comfortable with them. I mean, I like women, I really like women, but I don’t feel settled with them at all! That’s just how it is with me, Father. What’s wrong with loving a girl, being with her for a bit and then heading off to meet other good-looking women?”

  “I think you know what’s wrong with that scenario, David.”

  David sighed through his hands and dug his elbows into the pew. “Yeah… Can we talk about something else, please?”

  “Very well… how are you feeling?”

  “I’m feeling ok thanks, all things considering…”

  “Have you been attending your sessions?”

  “Not as often, Father… But I don’t feel the need to do so. Sitting around in a circle listening to people talk about how shit their lives have been doesn't feel like therapy to me. No thanks.”

  “It helps build empathy between people. Helps build self-esteem and trust.”

  “Got enough of that to get me through the day, thanks.”

  “Fair enough, David.”

  “I’ve been visiting the cemetery as well. Her grave looks well cared for.”

  “I’m glad to hear it. Now, David… What about this moral dilemma you seem to be suffering from?”

  “Oh boy… Yeah. So, you know that freelance job I’ve got working on, right? I got a call to go collect someone. But I- I feel that it doesn't seem right to me. It kinda goes against what I have as a code, as a belief… You know, it’s like someone told you to denounce God’s existence. It’s the same feeling. It goes against your grain. You wouldn't just do it without hesitation.”

  “I understand your feeling, David. An interesting analogy to use as well. Are you questioning the existence of God?”

  “No… and yes. Maybe… Father, I get that there’s a lot of suffering and cruelty in the world. I’m not exactly an innocent type of man either. But so far, I’ve had no punishment coming my way… Why is that? Either God doesn't care about what I did or do in my life, or he isn't there to even care…”

  Father Daniels leant back in his chair. He was very quiet as he carefully regarded David’s statement. David stayed quiet in a similar fashion, awaiting for the Father’s words.

  David hated men.

  That has been a sure factor of his life.

  But there was only one man that he had respect for and regarded with understanding, even though he did not trust him with the truth. That was Father Daniels.

  It was Father Daniels who came to his rescue all those years ago.

  It was Father Daniels who ensured that David’s mother also escaped the same hellhole and allowed her to spend the remainder of her years in reasonable comfort.

  It was Father Daniels who helped David find his foster parents.

  And it was Father Daniels who helped David hide the body…

  David spent every agreeable moment of contact with Daniels as he grew up.

  He sung hymns at Lent, Easter and Christmas.

  He observed communions and baptisms take place with Daniels leading the ceremonies. He watched the prayers, the weddings, the confessions and sermons that took place in the church. He even helped Daniels with the renovations for the church.

  But as David grew older, with his three mothers all subsequently passing away from illness or time, David began to distance himself from Daniels. Daniels was the last living person that linked David to his old life. Being friends with a reminder of his pain was a hard burden to bear. Yet he owed a debt to the Father, so he couldn't stay away forever.

  Daniels coughed, bringing David back to his attention.

  “God does exist, David. This is how I know: There is beauty in the world. Not in just the people. You just only have to look to nature herself. Look to the leaves in spring. The birds of the summer. The foxes and squirrels of the winter. There is wonder in that. Such wondrous simplicity and perfection, it’s hard to not be in awe of it. There is also wonder in food, in music, arts, sport and science. They all sustain human life in so many ways, its almost impossible to list all the far-reaching benefits. All of which allows for certain event stop transpire. All these years ago, I remember taking a walk around North London.”

  David nodded. He knew what point Daniels was going to make. “I get it.”

  “I walked around that area for no reason at all. I had no preconceived plans to be in that area. But I still went there because I decided to. And when I took a turn down a quiet suburban street, I heard you crying.”

  “Yeah…”

  “I heard you calling for help from that house. I immediately tried to open your front door but it was locked. I called to you. Then you unlocked it. I came in and found-… I did what I did to help you. I got you out. I helped your mother. I found you suitable arrangements for you both. And years later, when your mother was at her final moments, I ensured her comfort was as good as it could be. Now, no one else came to your cries apart from me.

  No one heard you nor came to your suffering. Just me. And only me.

  Something like that does not happen by chance. The designs of nature, food and art are not random either. There is a higher plan in place for us all. God has a plan and the wonders we see in the world are reminders for us to have faith and have love for the world we are lucky to be born in. Have faith, David, in the story that you are in. It may have started badly, it doesn't mean that it should end in the same fashion.”

  “And what about the world’s suffering? What about my sins?”

  “The suffering? If you see such suffering, David, then go out and rectify it. Help those who cannot help themselves. Stop the evil and make things better. Help when you can. And as for your sins… God has not punished you, David, for I believe that you have a part to play in your life. It is how you choose to act it out and what your choices will be. That is your chance to repay God for the second life you have retained and that he has given you. Does that answer your questions?”

  “Yeah… I guess it does… Is that what you believe, Father?”

  “If I did not, then I should go and hang up my robes to retire…” Daniels chuckled.

  David also laughed. “Fair enough.”

  “Right, my boy. I do not see a need to give you a ‘Hail Mary’ or an ‘Our Father’ to perform for penance. Just go to a pew and pray to your mother’s soul and wish yourself a plentiful day. Then leave with a lighter heart and try to be a good human being… That is all one can do. I know that you can do that. I have faith in you. I always have.”

  David nodded slowly. He was certain in his decisions now. “Alright. Thank you Father. Goodbye.”

  “Stay in touch, David. You’ve been gone too long. Go with God, my boy.”

  David nodded, crossed himself and left the booth.

  Feeling a tad fatigued from his conversation, David moved to a pew and sat down as per to Daniels’ request. He clutched his hands together and remained quiet. He thought of his mother and hoped that she was not ashamed of him for his actions. He hoped that she understood why he did what he did. Maybe when she came back, she would be happy… David looked up and stared at the stain glass windows around the altar.

  His right eye started to twinge every so slightly. He twitched his eyelid and rubbed at the itch forming there. When he brought his hand away, he saw the stain glass windows. And he stared ever harder. The figures in the windows, the saints and angels and cherubim, all were staring back at David.

  Their eyes were hard and cold as they bored down upon the perplexed David with their judgement.

  David switched his head and saw that statues. Before they were lifeless, frozen in place by the pillars that lined the great hall. But now, now they were all looking at him. Their faces were contorted with anger and some even pointed their hands at him with accusatory grimaces. David began to shiver.

  What is this? Is God and Heaven really here in the church? Are they finally coming down here to make me answer for my crimes? Was this it? No. No!

  David closed his eyes and rubbed at them.

  It’s the eye. It’s only the magic. Making me see what he wanted to see. It’s a lie. It has to be.

  David opened his eyes and looked about him.

  The stain glass figures and the statues had returned to a state of normalcy and people in the church were looking at him with glances at his odd behaviour. David’s heart thudded against his ribcage and sweat formed on his head.

  He wiped off the sweat with his wrist and sank into the pew. David took a deep breath and released it slowly. He had to get a grip. He could not mess up now. In fact, he was wasting time. It was time to find Emily.

  David slapped his knees and rose to his feet. Only for a strong hand to place itself on his shoulder and forcefully push him back down to the pew.

  David whipped his head up at the man who would think of pushing him around and his face went white with shock. As if he had seen a ghost.

  The man who stood by him in the pew line was the same height and the same build.

  He even looked the same. He was dressed in the same clothes as that night, only they were scorched from the fire as was his skin and hair.

  David was rooted to the spot with a fear that he thought he’d never feel again since he was ten years old. He stared and stared in silence. Strength left his body with the speed of falling sand.

  He knew that man. He knew that man because he had killed that man.

  But he was there, standing before him with a blank expression.

  David recognised the wounds upon the man’s face. There were two vicious stab wounds, one under his left eye and one across his nose. There was no mistaking it, no matter how much David denied what his eyes had seen. It was crazy. It was impossible. But it was true and as real as the visions of the vengeful statues, the undead animals and the unnatural weather that ruled over London. He had to accept it as truth or deny it and go mad.

  The man that stood by him… It was Fredrick Davidson.