A State Of Sin Amsterdam Occult Series Book Two by Mark Hobson (golden son ebook .TXT) 📕

following his every move, every step of his leg or swing of his arm, people laughing and sniggering behind his back.

One of the results of this was the conviction that he was somehow different. Perhaps he was a robot made to look like a human? Or a guinea pig in some huge global experiment? Or perhaps he was dead, a ghost moving amidst the living.

As he had grown older these issues had lessened and faded. He learnt certain techniques to make them go away, or to push them to a part of his mind where they could be forgotten, some dusty shelf hidden away deep inside his psyche.

Yet every once in a while, when he was under extreme stress, these problems would return with a vengeance. They would come down on him like a dead-weight, making him sag both mentally and physically, and all of the bad thoughts would return with them. Thoughts of hatred. The blackness.

Moving along the street, with the hustling and bustling crowds bumping their way by him, and the cyclists and traffic criss-crossing his path, Tobias kept his eyes straight ahead, trying to ignore the grey and unfamiliar faces staring at him, the pointing fingers and the laughing teenagers calling out in derision. Walking as quickly as he could, he made his way towards Centraal Station, and, fighting his way against the tide of commuters exiting the train station, he cut left across Stationsplein and ducked into the underpass.

The tunnel below the busy station concourse was quieter with just a few homeless guys sitting in their sleeping bags, and Tobias felt his heart rate gradually begin to return to normal as he hurried along. Moving back into the open air, he went past the back entrance to the station and headed towards the free ferries that took foot passengers across the River IJ.

It was after 6pm by now, and fully dark. One of the small, blue boats was just arriving on the shore on this side, and he and a few other commuters waited while the ramp lowered to the quayside, and then he dashed forward to the front of the ferry and found a spot beside the gunwale, grabbing a hold of the handrail and sagging against the side, his eyes brimming with tears of fear and anger.

The journey over the river to North Amsterdam only took five minutes. A cold wind blew hard into his face, making his teeth throb and his cheeks go numb. As he stood there watching the lights of the city centre fade into the night Tobias finally felt himself relax and get himself back under control.

The phone call from Lotte had shaken him, not just the implied threat but the mere sound of her voice, and also the realization of just how deeply involved in her scheme he was. No matter how he felt about taking Nina, it really was too late to back out now. And this in turn filled him with dread at what was to come.

The bitch! She had taken advantage of his messed-up life, she had manipulated him and promised him all kinds of things, used him. And once he was hooked and passed the point of no return, there was no way out for him.

Tobias angrily wiped away the tears that rolled down his frozen face, and the blackness at the centre of his heart suddenly blossomed like a dead flower unfurling. It coursed through his veins, and he grimaced, and his head buzzed painfully.

By the time the ferry reached the far shore a lethal quiet had descended on him like a death shroud.

To avoid the traffic snarl-ups in the city centre Tobias had parked his black van in the large car park next to the old Tolhuis building in Amsterdam Noord, close to the river. He was soon driving through the suburban sprawl of this part of the city, and within ten minutes he was crossing the ring road. Here Amsterdam came to a sudden halt and beyond the countryside stretched away into the night, flat and featureless and devoid of all character, bisected by numerous ditches and watercourses.

There was very little traffic out here. The strong and freezing wind which whipped unobstructed across the fields, together with the emptiness between villages, deterred anybody from making anything but essential journeys, especially in the middle of winter. Very soon, Tobias found himself completely alone, the van’s headlights cutting twin white beams through the cloudless night.

Just after seven o’clock he passed through the small community of Ransdorp, and beyond this the terrain became even more barren. If he continued heading north through Holysloot he would be able to pick up the N247 through Edam, and then make quicker progress home. However, he did not intend to head straight back home. The buzzing in his head had gradually worsened and was now more like a high-pitched whine that made his brain pulse just behind his eyes, and a cold fury squeezed his chest tight, and he knew he could not return to Nina like this, all pent-up and shaking. The sight of his pale face and bloodshot eyes would terrify the young girl. There was only one thing that would soothe the dark thoughts in his head. So he drove slowly along the unlit country roads, the tyres of the van gliding along the icy surface, his eyes roving back and forth. Looking and searching.

He spotted the lone cyclist just up ahead. Just what the heck he was doing all the way out here in the middle of nowhere, all by himself, pedalling sedately along without a care in the world, Tobias did not know. Perhaps he was on his way home to some shack in the countryside, having had a few drinks somewhere. He certainly seemed a bit wobbly, but that could just as easily been the strong wind buffeting him. Whatever the reason, Tobias didn’t really care. All he was bothered about was that here was a perfect opportunity presented to him.

Pulling out