11th September 1875
It was a bright early autumn day when we arrived at the village of
Hexford to take over charge of St. Zephain’s, the local church. I had just
finished my three year degree course in Divinity when the church vacancy became
available and upon applying, I was accepted. I had imagined the requirement for
me to attend an interview and possibly allowed to preach for the congregation
to assess me, the Rev. Martin Hollis and the suitability of my lady wife, Maud.
As we approached the church, Maud and I were struck by the unkempt
nature of the graveyard surrounding the tall majestic building. It was like a
well dressed man who was wearing dirty shoes. The rising pinnacles, the flying
buttresses and the beautiful stonework, were detracted from by a surrounding
field of weeds, where gravestones poked out resembling drowning men.
My wife decided there and then to make it her aim that the tidiness and upkeep
of the cemetery of St. Zephain’s would be her responsibility or her name was
not Maud Johnston.
The vicarage too, looked as if it was in need of a coat of paint and a
bit of carpentry work. The brickwork needed pointed and some of the window
frames looked rotten. Altogether both Maud and I hoped that the interior of the
building was in a better state than the outside!
I unlocked the door with an oversize key and as we stepped over the
threshold our noses were assailed by the smell of damp and mildew. Now I knew
why my application for incumbency had been accepted so quickly, it was probable
that no one else wanted it!
(Written later) The property looked and felt a little better when we had
lit a fire both in the living room and the room that was to be our chambers.
Maud made some tea and toast with jam on it before we went up to our bedroom to
make the bed for our night’s sleep.
After leaving Maud upstairs to change into her nightclothes, I returned
downstairs to check the guard was over the fire and that the front and back
doors were secure.
Tomorrow everything, I pray, will be brighter.
12th September 1875
Woke feeling refreshed this morning and after a quick wash and shave I
descended to the kitchen to prepare some breakfast for Maud and myself.
Luckily, we had brought provisions with us and were in no need of purchasing
anything else at that time, although we would have to explore the village to
discover if a local grocer existed, for future victuals.
Maud and I went for a walk after breakfast, to the see the church. As I
opened the large door I saw that the large rosary window which sat high above
the altar lit up the interior of the building in a hue of pink and purple. It
was truly wondrous to withhold and I felt my spirits rise.
Although the hymn books looked old and tatty I knew that the words they
contained were incorruptible and would stand the test of time. Perhaps a new
batch could be obtained at a later date when I was fully in charge of the
financial aspects pertaining to St. Zephains.
We returned to the vicarage at midday to partake of some food and drink.
As we ate we discussed what we would do over the following days and weeks. We
were excited and felt airy and light headed. We were master and mistress of our
own prospects and we would triumph and turn St Zephain’s into a centre of
excellence where we would welcome clergy and laity alike. Soon the church would
hum with busy people all eager to please and serve God.
13th September 1875
Today we arrived at the church with mops,
buckets and cloths, and we scrubbed, scoured and polished everything that did
not move and a few things that did! The brass work gleamed, the floors looked
swept and the walls were cleared of cobwebs. By Jove, by the time we decided to
return to the vicarage, St Zephain’s had had a real facelift.
14th September 1875
Woke up this morning to someone knocking at
the door! When I had pulled on some clothes and descended the stairs I threw
the main door open and there standing on the threshold was the tallest man I
have ever seen! He introduced himself as Samuel Haddon and begged my pardon for
waking me, but that I must take care for all was not right in Hexford. Suddenly
he was hauled back by a cheerful fellow calling himself Sam Gutteridge. He
laughed and told me to take no notice of old Samuel as he was, as he described it,
a ‘little strange’. Sam welcomed Maud and I to the village and said that if we
should want anything, to let him know. He considered that he was Hexford’s
unofficial mayor and liked to attract the ‘right sort of person’ to stay there.
I said I hoped to see him in church on Sunday, but he shook his head and said
that he was a kind of agnostic and that he didn’t agree with churches. He
preferred to worship in the open air, among the trees and flowers, natural
like.
17th September 1875
Haven’t managed to write my diary for a few
days as I have been very busy, Maud and I decided to leave it for a week to
allow us to prepare things for the first Sunday that I will be preaching. In
two day’s time I will officially take charge of the church of St Zephain’s by delivering
my first ever sermon. I will introduce myself to the congregation and will
learn their names and where they live. Then will come the visits, cheery chats
around roaring fires with steaming mugs of tea in our hands. I cannot wait.
19th September 1875
Disaster! I entered the church this morning at ten thirty to begin the
service at eleven to find the building – empty! I waited until well after
eleven, but no one turned up and although I left the church and went into the
village, the roads were empty. Hexford was like a ghost town!
I returned to the vicarage and just about collapsed. We have no
congregation! What will I do?
Maud brought me a strong cup of tea with
extra sugar in it. She explained that I might have to visit the citizens of
Hexford to explain to them that the church is now open and under my charge.
They will all come back, she promised, she knew it and soon her optimism
infected me and once again raised my spirits. As I divested myself of my robes
I began to make up dialogues that I would have with the village folk. Soon they
would be my friends and we would support each other, I knew it.
20th September 1875
Maud decided to start work in the graveyard today. She intended to go
and assess the situation and then hire men who would carry out her
requirements. I suggested two lusty lads with scythes would soon put paid to
the long grass and weeds and then when she could see what lay beneath, a
further planting of bushes and small trees could be undertaken. As she walked
off towards the church I felt a little shiver of misgiving, but shrugged it off
as I stepped into the sunlight.
My plan was to visit some of the
cottages and introduce myself to the inhabitants of Hexford, but it did not go
as well as I planned. In fact the people I called on displayed an almost rude
attitude. Not quite doors slammed in my face, more a fear on the face of each
householder I visited. One old man made the sign of the cross in front of me
and closed his door. Another suggested I ‘run for my life’! I am very confused.
I wonder if the previous incumbent met with as much hostility.
22nd September 1875
Maud asked me to come and see what she had discovered below the long
grass. She wanted it to be a surprise and so, told me nothing about the
discovery.
Just returned from the graveyard. I was quite surprised when Maud showed
me a large stone tablet which had been exposed when her workmen had finished
scything back the weeds and grass. It is about seven feet long and four feet
wide and the inscription carved on the stone face is ‘Resurgam’. I remembered
from my Latin studies that this interpreted to ‘I will rise’, probably a
reference to the Resurrection of bodies during the ‘Final Days’. Below the
inscription there the name of the last minister of St. Zephain’s who died a
year ago. He was a tall man by all accounts named Christopher De Ath.
I cannot understand why the cemetery has been allowed to fall into so
much neglect. I am sure that when Maud’s workmen get some of the bushes and
trees pruned correctly, it will be transformed into an asset to the church
rather than a wilderness.
24th September 1875
Maud has just returned from the cemetery. I could see that she had been
crying and her hand is bound up with a cloth. When I asked her what had
happened, she explained that when she was clearing weeds from round the
‘Resurgam’ stone, when reaching below the slab, it felt as if something bit
her! I said that it could have been a rat or some other rodent, but while
cleaning up the wound I noticed that the incisions in her hand are too large
for a small animal, they are more the size of human teeth. Still, the wound is
bandaged and Maud is lying down for a nap, I will take a walk out to the
graveyard this evening and check if there is anything living beneath the slab.
Just returned from my walk and I must get down on paper what happened to
me this evening. When I arrived at the cemetery I was amazed at how well the
men had done clearing the area. I could see where Maud had planted odd bushes
and small saplings. When I approached the ‘Resurgam’ stone I was horrified to
see blood smears on its surface, then I remembered about Maud’s accident and
realised that she must have spilt a few drops of blood on the slab before she
was able to staunch the flow. The blood had run down the side of the stone and into
the recess that Maud had tried to clear of weeds before being injured. I looked
about and located a fallen branch which I used to estimate the depth of the
hole. As I was pushing it into the darkness, suddenly it felt as if something
had grabbed the end and shook it! I attempted to pull the branch out, but it
took several attempts before I freed it from what it had become attached to. I
decided that that was enough exploration for one night and made my way out of
the burying ground.
The strange feeling of something living under the slab caused me to
start imagining things, for, all the way back to the manse I felt that someone
or thing was keeping pace with me as I walked. It crept through the undergrowth
making no noise apart from the odd rustle of leaves or twig breaking, but I knew
something was there. I was never so glad to be behind a locked door and had to
stand still for a few minutes to allow my heart to slow down.
25th September 1875
What a disturbed night I had! I dreamt
terrible dreams and awoke several times drenched with sweat. One of the times
it was fortuitous that I had awakened for upon listening I detected the slow
drip of liquid onto the floor. Immediately I went to investigate and was
shocked to see blood dripping from my dear Maud’s wound, making a small pool on
the floor. I woke her and rebandaged the wound using fresh gauze and bandages.
The wound has become inflamed and I will have to contact the local doctor in
the morning. I could have sworn that some animal had stood looking in the
window for I saw two pin points of red light just on the other side of the
glass, but when I approached the window I realised that they had been a
reflection.
Dr Jamieson came to see Maud’s hand. He has
prescribed washing the wound with a salt solution and then after drying it,
have it bandaged again. The good doctor and I sat in the garden for an hour
after Maud had been seen to and it allowed me to ask him about the village and
the church. He didn’t say anything for about five minutes as if he was trying
to think what to say. Then, with a grunt he admitted that the village had had
some trouble about fifteen years previously. When I asked him what sort of
trouble it was, he did not seem to want to explain himself and stood up and
made ready to leave. I entreated him to share his information, but with no more
ado, he left after promising to return in two days time to see how Maud’s wound
was healing.
I am preparing my sermon for my first service
in St. Zephain’s this Sunday. I hope the villagers will overcome their
surliness and come along to the church. I am preparing my text to relate to
Lazarus being raised from the grave by Jesus. It has always been one of my
favourite tracts and I hope I can carry it off successfully.
26th September 1875
Maud is very ill. She awoke shouting last
night and was running a very high fever. I bathed her brow and helped her
change into some dry night attire. I bathed her hand again but it does not seem
to be healing and redness from the wound has begun to spread up her arm.
Tomorrow I will deliver my first service at
St. Zephain’s as the new incumbent. I hope that I will impress the locals and
offer them spiritual guidance. My predecessor met equal hostility during his
incumbency, but I am determined to clear the air and, if possible clear this
distrust that the populace feel for me and my calling. The work of the Church
must not be interfered with. The congregation must be encouraged to grow and
work together.
27th September 1875
A black day! I arrived early to open the doors of St Zephain’s to allow
the mild autumn air to enter. The candles were lit and bibles and hymnals
distributed. I put on my robes and awaited the time of the ceremony in prayer.
I felt that if I could draw the village folk in, I would be able to reach out
to them and kindle their spirits.
The hour arrived and with a deep breath I left my vestry and entered the
Church. There were just a handful of men and women there. Each was seated in
their pew and gazed at me in dread and fear as I entered. I welcomed them and
thanked them for coming, but my words fell on deaf ears. None of them smiled or
made any sign of acceptance for my gratitude, all they did was stare with
expressions of whipped dogs on their faces.
I announced the first hymn and they all stood, awaiting instruction on
what to do next. I began singing with my deep baritone voice but found that it
was only my voice that echoed around the building.
After that I asked them to bend their heads in prayer and after praying
for the monarch and the country I began praying for an enlightenment to come to
the village, for an acceptance and softening of their attitudes to my wife and
I. As I uttered ‘Amen’ once again it was my voice and my voice alone.
Not to be deterred, I climbed the stairs to the pulpit and spread the
papers containing my sermon on the shelf before me. I looked down on the little
group that represented my Flock. They were all hard workers, I was sure of
this, for apart from the fear in their eyes, they emitted a tangible strength
which I felt like summer lightning.
I looked down at my script and after clearing my throat began my sermon
that related to the raising of Lazarus from the grave.
As soon as I mentioned the word ‘tomb’ and the raising of one already
dead, the men and women groaned and jumping to their feet left the church in an
unholy rush, leaving me alone in this temple of God.
I don’t know how I made it back to the Rectory, I felt sick to the
stomach and light headed, after locking the church up I lurched home and after
checking Maud, collapsed on my bed in a stupor, where I lay for the next few
hours. I awoke as the dark was falling and after once again checking on my
wife’s condition, I changed into my night attire, wrote my diary up for the day
and then fell back into bed and slept a deep dreamless sleep.
28th September 1875
When I awoke the sun was up and I could hear the birds singing outside
my window. I went through to my wife’s bedroom to see how she had spent the
night. What met my eyes was her empty bed and blood stained bandages lying
strewn on the floor. I went to the window and saw her lying out on the lawn
amongst the fallen leaves. I ran out to the garden and gathered her up in my
arms. She moaned softly and when I looked at her face I realised that her mouth
was ringed with what looked like blood. I carried her into the house and
returned her to her bed. Then, I carefully washed the blood from her face, the
wound looks as if it was beginning to heal, but Maud must have opened it up
again in her attempt to remove the bandages. After applying some salve I
carefully bandaged it up again. I made her some soup and managed to get her to
eat some, before she sank back into a kind of stupor.
I intend to write to the Bishop and tell him about the behaviour of the
villagers. I know he will be angry and will want to know all the details.
30th September 1875
I do not know how to begin.
Last evening I heard a noise from my wife’s bedchamber. Upon going to
see what was amiss I entered her room and saw her sleeping form lying on the
bed. Due to the darkness the room was full of shadows and when I moved the
shadows moved too, but when I halted they did not! They danced and capered
about Maud’s bed and all that was missing seemed to be the unholy music they
danced to and their voices mocking us.
I cried ‘Begone!” and ripping a crucifix that was fixed above my wife’s
bed, I held the sacred object before me. Instantly the shadows seemed to drop
like water onto the floor where they took on the form of an unquiet stretch of
water that seethed and roiled as if in pain. It rose in high peaks and then
fell just as quickly. Its surface glistened and sparkled and my imagination
furnished it with a human face, but one that had looked into the pit of Hell.
All through these manifestations Maud lay asleep. I gave thanks that she
was spared the sight of these abominations, then, as if in response to what was
occurring, she stretched her arm into the air and with a yawn sat up. I waited
for her to scream, but as she looked about her at what was going on, she began
to smile and then turning her gaze on to me, her mouth began to open wide,
revealing long canine teeth. I fell on my knees and began to pray fervently and
it seemed as if the room brightened and opening my eyes I was heartened to see
the room as it was, when I entered. Maud’s supine form lay still and the only
shadow that moved was my own.
I can only explain the incident as one in which I was hallucinating. I
imagined everything that went on, I am sure.
Later that day: Maud felt strong enough to rise from her bed and join me
in the morning room. I said nothing regarding what I thought I had seen in her
bedroom and was happy to see that she was looking much improved. We sat in the
garden and had tea and toast for breakfast. The birds sang and the morning sun
shone brightly dispelling my imaginings of the night.
1st October 1875
All has been quiet since the previous evening. I have been working on my
sermon for the coming Sunday. I hope it does not have the same effect as it had
last Sunday.
Went for a walk today and stopped in on Mr. Barney the butcher. He
seemed pleased to see me and sold me a pound of steak sausages. He seems to be
a sensible man, but when I suggested that he attend the church service at the
weekend, his manner changed abruptly.
“I am sorry,” he said. “But I cannot come near that building.” When I
quizzed him as to why, all he would say was that something that should be dead
was buried there; very strange indeed.
When I got home I found Maud all ready to go out. When I asked where she
was going, she explained that her presence had been requested at St Zephain’s
by the men who laboured for her. The work had been going on steadily during her
absence and now the job was nearing completion. I offered to accompany her and
we set out together.
What a difference awaited us at the churchyard. What had been a field of
unkempt grass about shoulder high was now a well tended cemetery where the
stones could be inspected at will. And in such pleasant circumstances; the men
on Maud’s instruction had planted cherry trees and flowers about the area
lightening the scene and perfuming the air. Maud was very happy and as a
special thank you, gave each of the labourers an extra amount of money as a
bonus.
It was coming onto early evening when we decided to leave the cemetery
and with the short days upon us, the sky had begun to darken. Maud took my arm as
we walked towards the gate and soon we were passing the ‘Resurgam’ stone. A small border had been cut around the
perimeter of the stone and some flowers had been planted there. It took the
starkness of the stone away and gave it an attractive look.
2nd October 1875
I had a visit from Mr Gray the local
undertaker, today. It seems that the poor man has been made the spokesperson
for the village. He was very embarrassed but with his head bowed he delivered
the message he had been entrusted to bring. It was to allow the graveyard to
fall once again into ruin and for us not to stop its degradation. I demanded to
know why this strange request had been made by the villagers and the tone of my
voice had Mr Gray quaking. He explained that Maud and I did not know the
trouble that the village had been through in the past and if peace was to exist
in this place then St Zephain’s churchyard was to be left to nature. I begged
the man to tell us about the trouble, but he said that even the talking about
it could have dire consequences.
After Mr Gray had left I told Maud that I had
had enough of this nonsense. I was going to go and speak personally with the Bishop.
If I was to be in charge of the spiritual guidance of this parish, then, I must
be in possession of all the history, both good and bad, of St Zephain’s Church.
3rd October 1875
Another very poorly attended church service, only three men and a woman.
The collection amounted to only four pence. I will bring the poor attendance up
with Bishop Spratt when I see him on the morrow.
I gave a very good sermon at the service, but I might as well throw
pearls to swine.
4th October 1875
Just returned from my interview with Bishop
Spratt. He was not at all sympathetic to my complaints regarding the attitude
of the inhabitants of the parish. He said I must try harder to meet them and to
discuss their problems. If only it was that simple.
Caught in the rain on the way back and think
I am developing a fever. Think I will get off to bed and see if I can sweat it
out.
5th October 1875
Woke this morning to the sunshine pouring in
through the window. I felt so much better and feel that I must get to the
bottom of this mystery of St Zephain’s. I will go down to the museum to speak
to the curator. I have seen him about, I am sure his name is Samuel Tanks.
6th October 1875
Went to visit Mr Tanks today. I must admit his museum would benefit from
a good cleaning! Dust and cobwebs festooned the place, but a more genuine
person, I have yet to meet.
Tanks explained that the village of Hexford had had a very bad
reputation fifty years ago, when the then minister, one Rev. Christopher De Ath
had been St Zephain’s incumbent.
Villagers reported strange lights in the church in the late night time
and early mornings. Sometimes singing could be heard accompanied by the beating
of a drum.
A strange sickness went round Hexford a few weeks after the various
disturbances in the church. Men, women and children came down with a kind of
lethargy, where all they could do was lie in bed prostrate. The children
reported that they had seen strange shadows in the churchyard at sunset and
often, several small rodents’ bodies were discovered on St Zephain’s doorstep.
It was thought to be a cat, but the way that the small corpses were positioned
was considered to be more likely to be due to a human agency.
Mr Tanks told me that during a hunt for rabbits and fowls during one
very hard winter, a strange mist had been seen issuing from the graveyard and
one of the hunters had accidentally discharged his firearm into the ensuing
cloud. Two days later, Christopher De Ath was found in his study - dead. He had
bled to death from a bullet wound in the chest.
After the subsequent burial of the vicar, the illness abated and
everyone’s health felt much improved.
During the time of his incumbency
Rev. De Ath had allowed the graveyard to become overgrown with grass and weeds.
In fact the gravediggers had to scythe the grass down before they dug Mr. De
Ath’s grave. After the funeral the grass was once again allowed to grow high in
the cemetery.
I asked if there had been any connection
between the termination of the sickness in the village and Rev. De Ath’s death,
but Tanks seemed very wary about giving me an answer. He did say that my wife
Maud’s amelioration of the cemetery had caused a few of the villagers concern
after De Ath’s gravestone was exposed; it was in fact the ‘Resurgam’ stone.
8th October 1875
Maud is giving me reason for concern. I found her sleepwalking last
night after I returned from seeing Tanks. She was attempting to open the front
door which was locked. When I touched her shoulder she dropped in a faint. Her
colour was deathly white and that wound has begun to bleed again. After
carrying her back to bed I went into the study to read and I swear as I lit the
candle I spotted a shape outside the window. I ran to the door, but by the time
I had unlocked it whatever had been outside had gone.
Woke this morning feeling tired and fractious, I am not sleeping well
and the sleep that I do get is not refreshing.
10th October 1875
I did not write anything in my diary
yesterday as I felt that until I could try to get my thoughts in order, all I
would record would be gibberish.
I had gone for a walk around the church’s burying ground to get some
fresh air and to mentally practise delivering my sermon for the service. Maud’s
deliberations were visible all around in the form of a hanging basket of
flowers here and a rose bed there. The air smelt fresh and I was sure that I
could hear a woodpecker busy in the neighbouring wood.
All at once I was engulfed in a grey cloud of vapour and suddenly I
could see nothing around me. I felt bitterly cold and my nostrils were filled
with a sickly sulphidic odour. “This is death, vicar,” a mellifluous voice
whispered in my ear. “You are here for eternity.”
I must have fainted for I came to lying on the church path with the
pages of my sermon blowing about me. I struggled to my feet and quickly
gathered the loose paper and made my way back quickly to the vicarage where, I
have to admit, I locked the door and then collapsed into a chair.
The church service today was attended by the same four people. I
attempted to get to the main door of the church before they left, to engage
them in conversation, but by the time I got there, they were nowhere to be
seen.
I counted the collection of, once again a few coppers before retiring to
the vicarage. Maud had prepared a lunch of salad and cooked meats and we
finished off with a piece of cake.
11th October 1875
I am writing this account by candle light. It
is barely dawn, but I must record the following occurrence.
I had barely fallen asleep last night when I heard the front door of the
vicarage open with a bang. Pulling on my dressing gown and slippers and lighting
a candle, I made my way downstairs to find, as I had expected, the main door
standing wide open. It was raining heavily and the wind howled into the hall.
As I pushed the door closed and turned the key I wondered how the door had
opened, I was sure that I had locked it.
Suddenly, I heard someone moving about the study and picking up my
trusty briar walking stick entered the room. A man or rather the caricature of
a man stood by the window reflected in the candle’s glow. His head was long and
came to a point at the top. His body seemed contorted and his arms seemed too
long. As I entered, he growled loudly and I could see that he had gleaming red
eyes and a mouth of vicious looking teeth.
“Good evening vicar,” the creature hissed. “I have called to thank you
for releasing me from my slumber. I have lain in that weed covered ground for
too long and now I must hunt and recharge myself.”
I staggered backwards, but my flight was arrested when I received a
shove from behind and to my horror upon turning, saw my wife Maud standing
there. Her eyes gleamed red and her teeth like my visitor were long and
pointed. She must have cut her lip, for blood ran from her mouth to her chin.
Her vicious looking mouth curled up in an evil smile and she began to come
towards me, forcing me to be caught between the two of them.
I am afraid my nerves suddenly gave out and with a shriek I caught my
beloved by the arm and swung her into the creature, knocking them both down. I
ran from the study to the front door and quickly unlocking it, threw it open
and careered off into the night.
I don’t know how far I ran for when I stopped to get my breath back I
was at least a mile outside Hexford. Terrified thoughts ran through my brain.
What was I to do? How was I to stop this horror that I knew would soon engulf
the village?
It was early morning when I crept back to outside the vicarage. The front
door still stood open and a light burnt in the study, but I could see no
movement within the building.
I slid in through the front door, trying not to make a noise and
carefully checked the downstairs rooms. They were empty and I decided to check
the bedrooms. I snatched a crucifix off a wall where I had it hanging and
proceeded up the stairs
The house was empty and my dear wife had left me, I took it, in the
company of the thing that I had met in the study. Upon checking her bedroom I
saw that there were blood stains on her bed covers and bits of fat and bone lay
scattered on the floor. They seemed to have come from a rodent or small
creature.
I cannot write any more, I must sleep now. The main door is locked and I
pray it stays closed!
Later that day:
I rose at about twelve thirty feeling no more refreshed than when I had
lain my head on the pillow. Where was Maud? I had to find her and attempt to
remove her from the creature’s thrall. Who could I call on to help? None of the
villagers would aid me; they were all terrified of whatever lay in the
graveyard, thinking that by going against ‘It’ would bring retribution down
upon their heads.
I went to the vicarage’s tool shed and selected a crowbar from the array
of tools. One end was fashioned with a sharp point, perfect for prising up an
object with no discernible edge. The other end sported twin teeth for wrenching
an object out. A handy tool, an admirable weapon!
St. Zephain’s churchyard was beautiful to behold as I approached it. The
flowers were in full bloom and the trees clad with their green mantles. Bees
and other insects buzzed about the area and a skylark proclaimed its freedom as
it spiralled up into the clear blue sky.
The ‘Resurgam’ stone looked forlorn without its covering off waving
grass and weeds. It looked vulnerable as I approached and prepared to exact my
wrath.
First, I plunged the crowbar’s point in under the stone and taking a
deep breath, I forced hard down on it producing a lifting motion. The stone
never moved, so I once again exerted myself and with a squeal the stone lifted
fractionally. Another twist of my muscles and it lifted out of the earth. I
reached down and taking hold of the stone I raised it upwards exposing the nest
of the viper or should I say the viper and its mate.
There nestled together lay the creature and my beloved Maud. Their faces
covered in blood and sleeping like proverbial babies. I think that I must have
lost my sanity at that moment and snatching up the crowbar I smashed the
creature’s pointed skull. The bone collapsed inwards and the skin ruptured
spraying blood outwards, but as I watched in horror, the skull reinflated back
to its original form and the cuts sealed themselves. The thing that had been
Rev. Christopher De Ath was able to heal itself!
With a roar I plunged the crowbar’s pointed end into its chest and as it
sunk deep in, the thing’s eyes flashed open and it shrieked. All at once the
creature dissolved into a grey cloud of vapour and rose high into the air where
it dispersed.
As I looked up at its dissolution I felt something slash at my arm and
realised that Maud, now the creature’s widow had awakened and upon seeing my
attack on her mate, had retaliated.
Without a second thought, I drove the metal bar deep into her breast and
watched as the woman that I had promised to protect, dissolve into obscurity.
I don’t know how I managed it, but somehow I managed to get back to the
vicarage and upon reaching the study, fell into a swoon and lay unconscious
upon the couch till I awoke in the late evening.
I immediately began to record the events of the preceding day in all its
horror.
13th October 1875
This will be my last entry. I have packed up all my goods and chattels
and am preparing to leave Hexford.
I will leave my diary here at the vicarage to warn the next incumbent of
the perils of St Zephain’s church and of its graveyard, to leave the weeds and
grass to grow tall over the stones and monuments. Let it remain fallow and
become forgotten.
The wound I sustained in the dispatch of the creature and its mate has
grown septic and I can’t get it to stop suppurating. I am off my food and I am
sure I am feverish, but I am sure that I will recover once I get away from
Hexford.
……………………………………………………………………
Daily Bugle
27th October 1875.
The village of Hexford has once again been struck
with illness. Villagers report lethargy, dizziness, and general malaise.
Several of the inhabitants have strange red marks on various parts of their
bodies.
The Tribune 30th October 1875.
Vandalism in cemetery: one of the gravestones in St
Zephain’s church had been disturbed. A large stone covering the grave of Rev.
Christopher De Ath has been once again reinterred into the ground after it was found
to have been dislodged from its resting place by person or persons unknown.
The Hexford Forum 31st October 1875
“It has returned that which we thought was gone and
forgotten…”
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