A Head Full Of Knives - A Supernatural Mystery by Luke Smitherd

Author:Luke Smitherd [Smitherd, Luke]
Language: eng
Format: epub, mobi
Published: 2014-05-06T06:00:00+00:00

***

Still exhausted, Jonathan Hall opened his eyes. He had been too spent even to listen in on the conversation going on upstairs, but he knew exactly what would be said anyway. He already had a good idea of what the outcome would be for both himself and his counterpart, and like the cat he was ready for it. That was why he wasn't surprised to see Martin Hogan standing over him, holding a bloodied knife. His only regret was having to go back to the Dump so soon. He'd hoped he could stay out longer. Instinct whispered in his ear, telling him to fight, fight, or fly, fly. Jonathan Hall did neither. They owed this man his pound of flesh, and a lot more than that. Not for the first time, Jonathan Hall deeply regretted the necessity of the whole situation, the machinations of the desperate dead.

“Was it you?” Martin's ragged voice said, as he pointed at the dog with the tip of the knife. “Was it you? You wanted me to think ... you lying bastard ... was it you?”

Jonathan Hall weakly shook his head. He wasn't sure if he had the strength to “speak” to Martin, but no words were necessary to answer the question. They would be pointless at this point anyway. The dog raised his head and exposed his neck, closing his eyes. Scoffer lay next to him, now fully awake but too confused to move. He stared at his master, blinking.

“No. Not ... me. Another ... one of ... us. A soldier. Just … remember …” Jonathan Hall said, finding the words with immense effort, “This is bigger ... than sides ... not just … the dead … this affects, Martin. You will join … us one day. This affects … your eternity.” Jonathan Hall remained where he was for some time, breathing weakly and waiting for the strike.

It didn't come. Eventually, he opened his eyes and saw Martin crouching on the floor, holding his face with the knife lying by his side.

“Get out,” Martin sobbed. “Get out before I kill you.”

Jonathan Hall didn't respond. Instead, he quietly and slowly hobbled out of his basket, his face showing the strain of doing so, and headed towards the door. He paused by Martin on his way out, searching for something to say, but thought better of it. After staggering down the hallway, he reached the front door of the house, where the key was still wedged in the lock. Turning it with his mouth, he pawed the handle open on the third try and then slowly disappeared into the night.

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