Midnight in New England: Strange and Mysterious Tales by Scott Thomas

Author:Scott Thomas [Thomas, Scott]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Body; Mind & Spirit, Unexplained Phenomena, Sample Book
ISBN: 9781461741473
Google: ffCwAAAAQBAJ
Amazon: B00F1RK8S6
Publisher: Down East Books
Published: 2007-07-29T22:00:00+00:00

Six

Franklin pushed on through the woods, his new, awkward limbs smashing through the foliage. He could see, he could hear, he could feel; he had been cheated of his release! How could it be, he wondered. His body had passed before his sister’s, and the boy’s longing spirit had been inexplicably drawn to his father’s creation, occupying it before Molly’s spirit could. Now he could hear his father moving closer from behind and another sound, a rumbling, a clattering, and he shifted toward it, saw the tracks ahead, slick-looking in the moonlight. He would not be deprived of his death.

“Molly, please, wait!”

The thin figure had reached the tracks—it paused, swivelled its blank wooden face toward the closing form of Joseph Warren. The Cyclops light of the train was rushing through the dark, making a silhouette of Franklin.

“My dear girl...”

Franklin looked back into the light of the roaring train as it travelled closer; he hesitated long enough for the man to encircle him with trembling arms. It had been so long since Franklin had been hugged that part of him wanted to welcome the sensation, but the embrace was not meant for him and he shoved his father away and stepped onto the tracks.

Doctor Hawes burst from the woods in time to see Joseph Warren throw himself at the strange thing standing in the path of the rushing train. Both rescuer and the machine, like some otherworldly upright insect, were met by the steam-gushing black monster, the impact hurling them, its progress uninterrupted.

It took the doctor several minutes to find the bodies. Joseph, flung several yards into the woods, was face down beneath the red-spattered white of a birch trunk. The limbless machine that the man had tried to save was on its back in a bed of ferns, the wooden head split, though the curiously glowing glass bulb had been preserved by the metal ribs.

Doctor Hawes bent over the thing and, after staring for several long moments, reached down to the globe and worked the switch that opened its valve. A misty blue light sighed free and faded into the quiet moonlit air.

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