Garden of the Dead by Allan McCarville

Author:Allan McCarville
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: thriller, paranormal, legend, siblings, ghost, mansion, folklore, murder mytery
Publisher: Allan McCarville

CHAPTER 11

Morgan was scared and confused.

He knew he was asleep in the back seat of the family’s car, yet he was now walking along that same garden path he had walked the previous night, the night when he had been attacked by a bear. It was impossible to be in two places at the same time, wasn’t it?

He had to be dreaming; however, if it was a dream, how come he could feel the cold? The ten-year-old knew that there was something very wrong with this situation.

They told him that his hand was infected. Was it also affecting his brain?

Was he dying?

The garden was the same one he had been in during his last nightmare. Everything was colourless, shades of grey. There was something else, something that he hadn’t noticed the last time he was here.

Silence. An oppressive silence. A dead silence.

He could feel the coldness surrounding him, could feel the flagstones of the garden path under his sneakers, but there were no sounds. No birds, no wind, nothing.

Then he understood there couldn’t be.

This was the world of the dead.

“Hello!” he called out hesitantly, not sure if he could make any sounds, not sure if he even wanted to be heard. He could hear himself call out, but the sound was muted as if he was wearing ear plugs.

He had an eerie sense of déjà vu as he made his way along the same footpath he had followed the previous night.

Was this a repeat of that dream?

He looked at his hand. It was bandaged, unlike the earlier nightmare. Also, he was dressed in the clothes he had worn to the hospital; T-shirt and shorts, not pyjamas. This was not the same dream.

He instinctively knew he was again heading for a bench that was situated in the centre of the garden. He knew there was someone or something waiting for him on that bench. He wanted to wake up, wanted to leave this dream but something pulled him inexorably towards that bench despite his efforts to resist.

He didn’t want to go there; that bear-thing was waiting for him, waiting to devour him.

A bulky dark shadow suddenly appeared in front of him, blocking his path. Morgan screamed and wanted to flee but his feet seemed to be rooted in place, powerless to move regardless of what he willed them to do.

The shadow coalesced into the figure of an old man.

“You should not be here, Morgan,” warned the figure in a friendly voice. “You belong in the land of the living, not here.”

Morgan was apprehensive, but he sensed that this figure meant him no harm.

“Where am I?” he asked.

“Where do you think you are?” asked the old man in return.

The boy observed his surroundings then cocked his head. “It looks like the garden at the house where I live but it’s different.”

“What’s different about it, Morgan?” asked the man.

“Well,” said Morgan, “there’s no colour. Everything looks like an old black and white movie.” He looked down at himself. “Even the clothes I’m wearing are black and white, even though I know my T-shirt is yellow and my shorts are blue.

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