Blood RED by Paul Kane

Author:Paul Kane
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: red, blood red, paul kane, alison littlewood, dave mckean, hooded man series, lunar, monsters, path of needles, the unquiet house, cages, mirrormask, little red riding hood, dark, evil, fantasy, horror, sst publications, short scary tales publications, paul fry, sst
Publisher: Short, Scary Tales Publications
Published: 2016-01-24T05:00:00+00:00

* * *

Kathleen woke up on the sofa with a start.

She’d had every intention of heading off to bed a little after her daughter, but had waited a while—probably in case Rachael came wandering through again, sleepwalking. At least Kathleen knew how to handle that, had seen it before. There was something she could do about it, to help. The rest of all this ... It was sort of alien to her.

But it had been such a long day, and all the worry had caught up with her, sending her off to sleep without the aid of the usual pills the doctor kept on prescribing for her. It was the only way to get her off, usually. However, safe in the knowledge that her daughter was sleeping peacefully (for now) in the next room, she found her eyelids drooping; couldn’t keep her eyes open in fact.

Then that sudden noise had awoken her, a crashing sound, and she’d been thrown back in time fifteen years or more—conditioned, listening for her baby, in case she was trying to get out of the house.

“Rachael?” she whispered.

There was also a cruel draft coming from somewhere ...

Kathleen checked her watch. It was 2 a.m. She got up off the couch, though it took her a little while to get moving. She made her way through the flat towards Rachael’s room, noting that the cold air was seeping out through the crack in the door she’d left.

Kathleen nudged open the door, eyes adjusting to the lack of light in the room. Rachael was spark out in the bed, little more than a lump really under the duvet. She spotted the problem straight away; Rachael’s window was open. Little more than a crack itself, but the wind was gathering strength outside and it had knocked some of Rachael’s ornaments from the sill, keepsakes like animals made out of shells that she’d collected from seaside trips. Thankfully none were broken and Kathleen stooped to pick them up, bones firing off warning shots as she did so. Then she went to the window; she was certain it had been closed when she’d tucked her daughter in—would have noticed surely if it hadn’t been. Kathleen glanced across at that damned fire escape, tutting again—it simply wasn’t safe! Especially when the window was open like that. Kathleen closed it again, carefully, making sure the locks were secured. She didn’t want her daughter climbing out there in her sleep, either.

Then she went over to check on Rachael, pulling back the duvet a little so she could see her face better; neither the banging nor Kathleen’s presence had apparently woken her. The poor thing was exhausted, just like her. She watched the girl sleeping for a moment or two, saw her frowning, whimpering slightly. Kathleen brushed her hair to soothe her, took great delight and satisfaction in the fact that the frown had vanished and Rachael’s face had taken on a more peaceful cast.

Kathleen smiled, then bent and kissed her daughter on the top of the head.

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