Banshee Angel Of Judgement by Billy Young Read Free Book Online Page B

request it be
returned?
    Finally the
sheriff decided it was time to head home. His host seeing how late
it was offered to put his guest up for the night but the sheriff
wouldn’t hear of it, wanting
the comfort of his own bed with it’s a small number of bedbugs,
though he doubted if the laird would have few, if any.
    H is mistake of
dismissing her curse and taking the quick road through the woods
made him easy for her to follow, especially since he was walking as
it was such a fine night for such activity. He’d left his coach
behind though the laird had offered his, more out of appearing
sociable than to save the sheriff from the walk.
    The fat lump
strode purposely along the main track way that cut through the
wood s that contained her
cottage. As he went, she rustled branches in the darkness out of
his sight yet loud enough for him to hear. The noise at first
didn’t seem to bother him but as he continued onwards he began to
get more nervous as fear rose within of vagabonds hiding waiting to
waylay him though he tried to dismiss the fear by putting the
sounds down to deer or some such other creatures foraying for
food.
    “ Who’s there?” he’d
nervously asked as she snapped a large branch which he no longer
could put down to animals. He search the night as far as his eyes
could reach into the shadows though saw nothing.
    No reply was
given to his challenge. He picked up his pace, pecking as he went
as his breathe grew more laboured; as she followed in the woods,
shaking more branches, snapping others causing his fear to rise,
driving him on along the roadway and regretting not taking the
laird up on his offer of a room for the night yet not wanting to
turn around to head back.
    “ Do you know who I am?” He’d shouted self-righteously, as he stopped his progress on
glimpsing her ghostly form flitting between the trees. She could
not hold back her mirth, cackling loud sending him into greater
flight, stumbling on the rough potholed surface in the
darkness.
    He stopped as
he came to the front of her house, labouring for breath, holding
his knees for support . It was
then she had struck. His mind unable to take in the horror of her
screaming rage filled apparition as she threw herself towards him
from out of the dark.
    He turned to
run, staggered, falling hard. He rolled over onto his back as she
kneeled beside. He lay there transfixed by her cold white eyed,
merciless gaze. His terror smelt so delicious to her as she cocked
her head to one side childlike, before she gave her scream that
sent ice through his blood and a cold sweat running from every pore
on his rotund frame, eyes wide from the horror he heard in that
scream, like the scream of the damned a thousand fold. At that she
had taken his soul, reaching into his torso, tearing it from him;
freezing the horror he felt on to his flabby disgusting features,
as she took her first captive.
    It had seemed
too quick though, which had just fed her rage all the more. This
had sent her screaming through the woods till dawn and the light of
a new day had forced her to retreat to her dungeon with her prize
still held firmly in her claw like hands.
    She had wanted
more, so much more. Her dissatisfaction all the greater with the
fatigue she felt from the night of uncontrolled rage. It was for
this reason she had drained his soul so much. She had learned from
that night not to let the anger get away from her. To control it;
learning to use it to exact her revenge on those that had accused
her falsely. Each one being added in turn to her collection, to
feed and strengthening her as she continued to seek them out, in
the darkness of the winter nights.
    Into her
mother ’s jar, her anchor she
placed each, trapping them. Damning them to never find the rest
they had denied her; feeding from them as she tormented them with
visions of hellish nightmares for their wrong doings. With each one
she grew more powerfully malevolent as she drew on the fear and
anguish they