Sunday 16 March 2014

The Ghost Post


The Ghost Post


Ray White was a parcel delivery man with a lonely route.

In his little blue van he traversed some of the loneliest and most desolate corners of Scotland. Rannoch Moor, Glencoe and Glen Etive were usual routes.

This was his last job before retiring, a way to top up his retirement income as Ray, after forty years of hard graft could not yet afford to ride off into the sunset.

Today was a particularly dreich February day. The cloudy morning had turned into wind and sleet in the afternoon and freezing cold mist by evening.

After stopping at a little hotel frequented by skiers for a late lunch Ray found himself in the mist, far onto Rannoch moor.

With darkness falling no place on earth could seem so desolate as this barren, treeless emptiness of heather and bog.

The mist hugged the ground in ghostlike whirls, the signposts and heathery clumps of moorland assuming whatever eerie shape Ray's mind gave them.

He wished he had remained at the hotel, or left the last parcel for tomorrow. The address on it meant nothing to him, was there even a cottage that far out? Some lonely but and ben hidden in the middle of nowhere? Would anyone even be there at such a miserable time of year? In the height of some some adventurous souls might appreciate the moorland, but a cold and misty February night made Rannoch moor seem like hell!

Ray rounded another bend in the road and slammed on the brakes as fast as he could!!

The van screeched to a halt, balancing on the edge of the road and the drainage ditch at the side.

Ray was sure something had darted across the road just in front of him. Not a mist shrouded figment of his imagination, something real. He had only glimpsed it for a moment but he had the distinct impression that it, whatever it was, had walked on two legs.

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Gathering himself, he cracked on, knowing he had a trek to reach this forbidden outpost. Braes and dips, rain and fog, straights and bends.......... was the harrowing road ahead. A rough, tarmacadam assault course, testing the wee blue chariot to it's limit, not to mention Ray White.

After some time, he was well on his way, trundling along the B66. He'd never been that far along it before and the road was so rugged, Ray felt it should be awarded an extra 6 on the end!!

Time was wearing on and daylight had gone as he climbed another brow and gazed at what could only be described as......... a black hole. Could it have been the old railroad tunnel he'd heard the old ones talk of?

"Old stories blethered by old folk" he'd thought!!

The entrance was fast approaching and he held his breath as it swallowed him up. Headlights blazing, he could only see as far as the next turn would allow. Foliage hanging all around, from every crack in the ancient brickwork, ......"was this tunnel still in use?" Ray wondered.

A minute or two later he was deep in it's belly. All he could do was motor on, bend after bend and hope the exit would appear.....and it did.

He slowed as he escaped, fearful of what was on the other side, what was waiting.......

It was darker, a different hue, the night sky was strange, almost alien.......... The road was dark and straight, straighter than it had ever been..........The surroundings were still, very still but alive.....almost watching.

A different world, an alternative existence, a ghostly plain..........

Ray motored on...........

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The road was pitted with water filled pot holes and the little blue van bumped up and down as it bravely battled down the mist covered carriageway.

Ray struggled on bravely, seeing strange clumps of broken brickwork and rusty, wrecked cars lying at the side of the road, he wondered where the tunnel had led him.

Casting a glance into his mirror Ray saw, to his horror, that whatever had almost caused him to crash was just visible to his rear, following him along this road from Hell! It was fading in and out of the mist, but Ray knew instinctively that it was after him and shivered at the thought of it catching up!

No matter how fast he drove, Ray could see the follower keeping pace with the van.

What the hell was it? What could run at that speed? Nothing natural anyway!

As the mist thinned and thickened, Ray could often see far ahead of him and he was sure that every so often a light gleamed out.

Could it be a house thought Ray? Perhaps somewhere he could stop and get help. He had to come upon habitation soon, surely? But what would the thing behind him do if it caught up?

Suddenly the mist lifted and Ray could make out a figure holding a lamp standing in the road a short distance ahead. Now he could get help, thought Ray. Surely two people could scare away whatever was following him.

As Ray neared the person he was dismayed to see that the figure was clad in a long flowing robe, which swirled this way and that in the wind. A lamp was being held aloft and its beams fell on the head of the carrier displaying that the person was wearing a mask…or something.

Screeching to a halt Ray jumped out of the van and ran up to the robed figure.

“I’m being followed!” shouted Ray. “I am sure it is an animal or something, but it is running on two legs!”

The figure lowered the lamp and shone it in Ray’s face.

“You have met my little pet,” hissed the person. “He leads the dead to me, to allow for their easy passage to the other side.”

“Who are you?” demanded Ray, stepping back a bit in horror. Surely this person was a madman. What was he on about? Death? More like someone in a Halloween costume.

Then the thing that had been following Ray arrived. It stood panting as it opened its large jaws and displayed sharp pointed teeth. To describe it as an animal was to do it an injustice. It was a monstrosity. A chimera of many animals and humans thrown together into a semblance of a humanoid.

“Ah Xoi, you have brought another hapless soul to me,”purred the one who called himself Death as he stroked the creature. “We will send him on his way as we have done with the rest.”

Ray looked from the animal to the master and pointing at both the denizens of Hades.

“First and foremost I am an employee of the Royal Mail and I demand that you at least allow me to complete my final delivery before dispatching me to wherever I am destined for. I have a single parcel to deliver and I must carry out my duty to the last!”

Death laughed evilly. “Of course you can complete your delivery. Far be it from me to stop a man completing his duty. Where is the parcel? Let me see it.”

Ray went back to the van and collected the parcel. Obviously, he thought, he had died in the crash due to almost hitting the creature and the tunnel was the entrance to the Afterlife. But he always understood that the transition from life to death was an easy trip, certainly nothing like he had endured in the past… half an hour? Had it been longer? Ray had sort of lost touch with time. It could have been hours…or days…or maybe he had been travelling for eternity since emerging from the tunnel.

Ray held the parcel up for Death to read the address. The master of the Dead reached out to take it from Ray, but the postman held on to it.

“I can not allow anyone to hold this piece of mail other than the person who it is addressed to!” Ray shouted, pulling the package back.

Death leant forward and holding the lamp high read the scrawled address on the surface of the parcel. Suddenly he began to laugh.

“Oh this is great…!” he spluttered. “Do you know where this piece of mail is going?” he said to Xoi. The creature rolled its bloodshot eyes and shook its scaly head.

“It for the…” Death then spoke in a foreign language. To Ray it sounded ancient and he felt a shiver go down his spine.

Now master and creature were sharing a joke and as Xoi rolled on its back growling and gnashing its teeth, Death held his sides as he roared with laughter.

“I’ll tell you what Mr Mailman, if you mange to deliver this package and survive, I will return you to your previous life and guarantee you at least ten years before I come looking for you again. But, if what happens as I expect to happen, well… then you arrive right back here! What do you say to that? Eh? Is it a deal?”

As Ray drove off he watched Death and the creature Xoi in his rear mirror. They knew that he would be back and they found the prospect of his proposed delivery highly amusing. He could hear Death’s booming laughter and Xoi’s guttural growls echoing behind him.

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Ray drove on in a state of inner turmoil. Everything seemed unreal; He felt like he was in a nightmare. He doubted his senses and even his mind . . . ‘this can’t be happening’, he thought and yet he knew that it was.

Driving calmed him; he loved to drive; that was the best part of being a posty. As the reflexes of driving took over he consider his situation. It was an understatement to say that it looked bad. However he looked at it he was damned – and that was putting it politely – though ‘damned’ might be exactly the right word.

He pulled over to the side of the road and managed to get the van door open before he was violently sick.

‘What the hell am I going to do?’ he thought. The word ‘Hell’ seemed to echo in his mind and for some reason it reminded him of his special delivery. It was the parcel that provoked laughter from the ‘master’ and his hellish ‘pet’ beast. What was the joke? Somehow Ray knew that he wouldn’t find it very funny even if he did get it.

The parcel looked normal; a square box wrapped in brown paper. It could have contained a football. It was light enough. He gave it a shake. It seemed empty. The address was hand written in an elegant copperplate:

Mr Louis Cypher

6 Over gate Cottage

HD 66


What was so funny about that? He couldn’t see the joke. Then he remembered his thoughts about the B66 . . . it should be awarded another 6! And here was HD 66 with another 6 there to make it 666, the number of the – no! This was nonsense, madness!

Ray got back into his van. It occurred to him that he could just ditch this last delivery and head for home. To hell with the ‘master’ and his monstrous beast. And to hell with the deal he had made; he had no choice at the time.

As he drove back onto the road his headlights caught something lurking in the darkness, something glowing like cats eyes – only these were the eyes of a monstrosity, the beast! He still had no choice; the beast was going to make sure he kept to the deal and made his special delivery.

‘It can’t be much further’ thought Ray. ‘The cottage must be near’. Ray had stopped looking in his mirror to see the Beast following. He was resigned; he knew that he couldn’t out run it.

Up a head his headlights had flashed on something; it became more distinct as the van charged up the road – he glimpsed a gate post and then the white wash of a building appeared; the cottage.

Ray pulled up, trying to pretend that this was business as usual, though his instinct was to toss the parcel up the path like some lazy paper boy – and to make a run for it!

But no, his professional pride kicked in. He opened the gate calmly, parcel in hand. The cottage appeared to be deserted but as Ray approached the wooden door he saw a note pinned there. The writing was the same as the hand written elegant copperplate on the parcel.

‘Postman, please come in’. It was signed Louis with a flourish.

Ray hesitated. He looked back over his shoulder for his beastly companion. He was gone now, as if keeping his distance. Ray felt oddly deserted.

The door swung open at his touch. It didn’t creak in hammer horror style. It was silent as the grave. He stepped over the thresh hold with his senses alert – and was immediately plunged into darkness with a plummeting sense of vertigo -  and just as suddenly he was in a well lit room, a huge room lit with thousands of flickering candles.

‘Hello, Ray. I’ve been expecting you. . .’ The voice was mellifluous, but somehow disturbing.

Ray looked around into the most evil hypnotic eyes he had ever seen. This was Louis?

‘I should say I’ve been expecting this very special delivery’ Louis reached for the parcel. Ray handed it over with lifeless fingers.

‘I have been after this one for a long, long time’ said Louis. He held the box up and seemed to be inhaling its fragrance. ‘Ahh . . . a good vintage . . . ’

Louis stepped back and the box spun in the air and began to scream like a lobster being boiled. Black smoke streamed from the box. Then it burst into flame and vanished with a final scream.

Ray stood speechless, powerless, awaiting his fate.

Louis regarded him. Ray wanted to look away but couldn’t; he was held by those malevolent eyes.

‘Don’t worry Ray, it’s not your time – yet’ Louis smiled and made a noise which Ray didn’t recognise as laughter.

‘I require your services. I have a return delivery for you’ as he spoke he reached up and caught a parcel which seemed to materialise in the air. A box just like the last one.

‘Give this to your friend with the ghastly pet’

Ray experience the plunging sensation again and found himself back at the thresh hold of the cottage door. He stumbled and lay gasping for breath. He literally crawled back into his van. It was like sanctuary. He sat there breathing deeply for some time before he saw his old friend lurking in the darkness. He observed the beast as it approached. It appeared hesitant, nervous even. On impulse he blasted the van horn and was rewarded with the sight of the beast diving for cover. In his elation he realised that he felt no fear. It was odd; he literally felt fearless.

‘Right! - Let’s get this job done!’ thought Ray as he gunned the van into life and charged back down the narrow country road.

It didn’t take long to find the master. He appeared with his lamp and a look of dismay on his face.

‘You’re back!’ he exclaimed.

‘I have something for you’ said Ray as he produced the parcel.

‘Ah, you didn’t deliver it then’ said the master, now smiling.

‘Oh I delivered alright, but this one is for you’

The master’s smile collapsed. He looked doubtful.

‘For me?’ he said. Fear lurked in his eyes.

‘Yes!’ said Ray ‘it’s for you’

The master took a step back but it was too late; the parcel flew up above him and began to spin. Ray thought the box was screaming that weird lobster scream – but it was the master who was contorting and screaming now. And he seemed to be dematerialising into black vapour. In an instant he was sucked up into the box like smoke in an extractor fan. The box didn’t burst into flames; the spinning slowed and it dropped softly to the ground.

Ray picked up the parcel. There was an address on it, written in an elegant copperplate:

Mr Louis Cypher

6 Over gate Cottage

HD 66
Ray saw that the lamp on the ground were it had fallen. It was still shining brightly. In the distance he heard the call of the beast. Ray picked up his lamp and held it high like a beacon.