The Beast by Barry Hutchison Read Free Book Online

dark in the bedroom, with only the early-morning daylight to pierce the gloom. I looked over to the door, and to the old woman in the ankle-length nightie who stood in front of it, her back to me.
    ‘See anything?’ Ameena’s voice was muffled by the snow.
    ‘Yeah,’ I said, even if I wasn’t quite sure exactly what I was seeing. ‘She’s in there all right.’
    ‘Is she OK?’
    I shakily took one hand from the ladder, then the other, leaving myself balancing. Cupping my hands against the glass, I looked more closely at Mrs Angelo.
    She was walking – well, more sort of shuffling slowly – on the spot, apparently unaware of the door blocking her path. Her feet bumped against it, then her knees, then her forehead. That explained the knocking sounds, at least.
    ‘Is she OK?’ Ameena asked again, louder this time.
    ‘I... I think so. I think she’s sleepwalking.’
    I knew you weren’t supposed to wake someone up when they were sleepwalking, but the window was shut tight, and I couldn’t think of any other way to get to her. Keeping one hand cupped against the glass, I used the other to rap three times on the window.
    Over by the door, Mrs Angelo stopped shuffling. Her body went rigid, no doubt startled by the sudden sound. She showed no sign of turning around, though, so I knocked again. ‘Mrs Angelo,’ I called. ‘It’s me, Kyle, from down the street.’
    That did it. Her whole body turned at the same time, her bare feet shuffling her around on the carpet until she was facing me. Her long, greying hair, which was usually tied in a bun, hung limply on either side of her face. Her mouth drooped open, revealing her shrunken, toothless gums.
    But it was when I saw her eyes that I realised she definitely was not OK. Each eye was completely black – no iris, no pupil, no white bit – just two slivers of absolute darkness in the middle of her face.
    ‘Something’s wrong,’ I started to shout, but Mrs Angelo’s sudden lunge forward made the words catch in my throat. She moved much faster than I expected, crossing the room in a heartbeat.
    I was still pressed against the glass when her face hit the other side with a thonk . I gasped in fright. Instinctively, I leaned backwards away from her, then remembered there was nothing but empty space behind me.
    Clawing at the air, I grabbed for the top of the ladder, even as Mrs Angelo ferociously slammed herself against the glass. My fingertips brushed the ridged metal of the top rung, but couldn’t find a grip. The winds seemed to whip up around me, and I found myself toppling backwards from the ladder, falling silently through the twirling, swirling snow.

he snow was a cushion of cold. I sank into it, stunned but unhurt by the fall. Flailing, I pulled myself into a sitting position and found Ameena standing over me, staring down.
    ‘Do not even think about blaming that on me,’ she said. She gave the ladder a shake. It didn’t budge. ‘Steady as a rock.’
    I shook my head and pointed up. ‘N-not the ladder,’ I stammered, clambering to my feet.
    ‘What, then?’ Ameena asked, looking up to where the ladder vanished into a haze of white. ‘What happened?’
    ‘It’s Mrs Angelo,’ I said. ‘It’s Mrs Angelo, she’s... Something’s...’ I raised my hands to shoulder height and shrugged. ‘Go look for yourself,’ I said.
    Ameena didn’t hang around. Fixing her eyes on where the window would be, she stepped on to the ladder and began to climb. I watched her, fluttering my eyelids against the snow, until she was lost to the blizzard. There was silence then, before a steady creaking told me she was climbing back down.
    With a soft plop she jumped the last few rungs and landed in a knee-deep snowdrift. She ran a hand through her long, dark hair, clearing away clumps of white that had begun to freeze there.
    ‘I take it she’s not normally like that?’
    ‘What, foaming at the mouth and battering her face against the window?’ I said. ‘No.