American library books » Other » Witch: A Horror Novel (The Cursed Manuscripts) by Iain Wright (nonfiction book recommendations TXT) 📕

Read book online «Witch: A Horror Novel (The Cursed Manuscripts) by Iain Wright (nonfiction book recommendations TXT) 📕».   Author   -   Iain Wright



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lino was ripped in several places. His mum had neither the money nor skill to sort the room out, but even in such a bad state, it was still Jude’s favourite space in the house. At least the taps worked, and the scalding water filled the bath without complaint.

Stripping naked, Jude rubbed his shoulders against the chill. Eager to get warm, he perched on the side of the bath and placed his feet in the water. It made him shudder. Streaks of dirt lined his ankles and the points of his elbows, put there by his gambol down Devil’s Ditch. His body ached, his shins covered in bruises.

Once the bath was half-full, Jude slid off the edge and slipped beneath the water. Another shudder escaped him and he lay back to relax. He tried to shut his mind off and think of nothing, focusing on the water’s calming caress. Suddenly, things didn’t seem so overwhelming. There might be trouble ahead, but at least he knew in his own mind that he had done nothing wrong – plus whatever happened probably wouldn’t be as bad as he feared. It rarely was. PC Riaz seemed like an all right guy. Surely he wouldn’t take things further than they needed to go.

And there’s no reason to worry about Mum. She’ll wake up tomorrow with a hangover and barely remember any of it.

Once again, Jude fretted about Ashley. She hadn’t seemed herself lately. She was… angry. More so than normal. It upset him, seeing her get so mad at the drop of a hat, and truth be told, she scared him sometimes. His best friend had always had a temper, but not as bad as lately. The worst part was he didn’t know how to help her. He didn’t even know what her problem was. They had used to share everything, but recently it felt as though Ashley was keeping things from him, almost like she didn’t trust him anymore. No, that wasn’t right; it was more like she didn’t think he would understand. Maybe he wouldn’t.

Jude shivered with the cold and then frowned because he was submerged in hot water. It took a moment to register, but he realised the water had gone cold. In fact, it seemed to be getting colder by the second.

What the…?

Jude leapt out of the bath, shivering and grabbing at himself. He took a towel from the radiator and wrapped it around himself. Then he stood there, confused. The water had been hot when he’d sat with his feet in it. It had been warm when he’d slid into the bath. No way could it have turned so cold so quickly. It was impossible.

Impossible.

Maybe mum didn’t pay the gas bill?

Jude padded back over to the bath and dipped his fingers into the water. It was so chilly that it made the bones in his hand ache.

Lovely and warm one minute, icy cold the next.

He yanked back his hand and shook it, then considered racing downstairs to tell his mum. But what could he possibly say?

She’ll end up booking that doctor’s appointment for sure.

So he got himself dry and hurried across the landing with the towel wrapped around his waist. There were no answers to the questions plaguing his mind, so he slid beneath the bed covers and grabbed the TV remote, intending to distract himself. Switching on his old 32-inch that he had got for his ninth birthday, he lay back against his pillows and tried to relax. Perhaps now might be a good time to finish The Hobbit films. It would either take his mind off things or send him straight to sleep. Either was fine.

The opening credits of the second movie began to play. The instrumental music was calming and Jude zoned out as the camera focused in on a lush green meadow. Two children played in the tall grass. Their mother stood nearby, watching them. They all wore old-fashioned clothes. It had been a few days since Jude had watched the first movie, but this didn’t seem like the sequel at all. His confusion grew when the scene continued without context. The mother marched over to the children and pulled something from underneath her skirts. The object flashed in the sunlight but moved too swiftly for Jude to identify.

Is that…?

Is that a knife?

Jude recoiled in horror as the mother started stabbing her children. The scene was more realistic than any he’d ever seen. Blood spurted into the tall grass. The children’s old-fashioned clothes darkened with leaking fluids. The mother’s face was expressionless as she stabbed them again and again and again, a hundred times each. By the time she finished, their bloodless bodies had melted into the earth.

Jude grabbed the remote and switched off the television. He wanted to scream. He wanted his mum. But he realised he was alone. He tried to call Ashley, but there was no answer.

I’m alone.

And I’m going insane.

Chapter Eight

Jude didn’t know how long he’d been asleep, but the fact he was struggling to open his eyes suggested it hadn’t been long enough. He had spent most of last night staring at a fixed spot on the ceiling and trying not to freak out. The image of the slain children was pasted to the back of his eyeballs and he couldn’t shake it. He could smell their blood. But in the early hours of the night, his body must have overridden his mind and sent him to sleep. He was grateful for that.

Now it was a new day, and the night’s terror ebbed away. With the gift that only sleep provides, Jude was now partially detached from the previous day’s events.

The fires of yesterday are ashes today.

Destiny dies and renews every second.

Jude reached into the drawer of his bedside table and pulled out a pad and paper. He jotted down his thoughts, wanting to capture them for the fantasy book he was one day going to write. The pen he used resembled a magic wand, a

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