Chapter 2: Guardians These Days!

After meeting the stranger at the graveside, Owen is keen to pursue the man, however Owen meets more than he bargains for.

Owen didn’t know what to do. He had no idea where the man had gone, but he needed to try and find him; try and find out what he meant by giving him the old photograph. Either way he couldn’t search for anyone dressed up in a suit. He needed to get changed, but that meant going home.

 

Owen’s house was like every other household after a death; it had changed. The walls creaked with memories and sadness lingered in every corner. Photos, television programmes, clothes, even on the carpet lay leagues of egg shells where no one dared to tread. The thick curtains had remained closed as if they were ashamed to reveal the family’s grief. His mum always wanted to talk it through, relive old stories as if it would help. Owen just wanted to forget.

 

Owen started in the direction of home. He had no idea if he would meet the man again, but anything was better than standing in the churchyard.

 

 

‘You alright son?’ his mum’s voice startled Owen; she had been watching from the doorway of the church. Owen said nothing, but his mum pressed the issue.

“Son, who was that man? Are you okay? I just want to see that you’re alright.”

Owen couldn’t stand anymore sympathy. He had had enough.

‘No I’m not alright! How can we be alright? It’s not right that Granddad’s dead, it’s not right I’m left here on my own without a friend. First dad left and now Granddads dead! I hate you, you’re only concerned once they’re gone!’

 

Owen couldn’t stop, words dropped like bombs smashing everything in their wake.

 

Owen’s mum said nothing, her eyes spoke enough. Like a faithful dog continually coming back to a horrid owner only to be smacked again, her silence crippled Owen.

 

She smiled weakly

‘I just want you to be okay. If you want to go after him he went that way. I love you.”

 

Owen did not reply and instead stormed off in the direction she had pointed.

Owen thundered out of the church gates and onto the high street of Tyburn. Cars flashed past in the rain, spitting spray from the road as they hurried by. It was as if they were trying to escape Tyburn town. Owen couldn’t blame them, he knew how they felt. ‘The pulse of the industrial revolution’ one of his history books had called Tyburn. Factories, offices, industries dotted the sky line, but they stood like dinosaur bones; a relic of the past.

 

Up ahead Owen could make out several people, some waiting for the bus, others looking in shop windows. Then he saw him, the man from earlier! Owen started to run, picking up pace, but so did the man! Quickly the man darted through the crowd, disappearing between two shops.

 

Owen raced to the small alley between the shops, but again the man had vanished. The man had taken a short cut Owen often took to get to school. The narrow dirt path, led directly to the fields behind the main streets. Owen continued to follow.

 

At the end of the path, the short cut took Owen through the farmer’s fields. A fence crudely linked by barbed wire cordoned off the fields.  Rumour had always been that the owner shot anyone who trespassed, but the badly bent wire was proof enough that it was only stories. Owen looked across the field, where had the man gone?

 

The cream coloured texture of the wheat in the field was a wall of colour, resisting the rain that soaked the field.  The bearded wheat danced and dallied in the breeze. Each field was intersected by long over arching arms of gnarled trees, their branches like forks pierced the clouds as it continued to rain. Owen hurried along the path, his pants getting muddied by each step he took.  A distant rumble raced through the sky cracking the clouds like a dull chant. The rain had poured ever since his Granddad had died like there was a leak in the sky.

 

Owen continued to walk through the field.

 ‘That’s him I tell you’ said the invisible voice.

The voice was not alone as a chorus of agreement could be heard.

Owen  listened more intently, it was definitely voices.

‘I can’t quite believe it, he’s still here! What’s going on with Riley too? He passed right by us without so much as a hello. Guardians these days I ask you!’ the disgruntled voices continued,

 

Owen peered down trying to find the source of the noise. Was Riley the man that appeared at his Granddad’s funeral? And what was meant by a Guardian?

 

 The wind by now had calmed down somewhat, Owen noticed that a clump of dandelions still moved furiously. Owen bent down onto his knees and stared intently at them. They weren’t flowers at all!

 

‘Quiet lads! Don’t look now, he’s watching us!’ the voice shouted.

 

The dandelions stopped moving, they lay perfectly still, motionless.

Owen squinted even harder; they weren’t dandelions at all. Owen wasn’t quite sure what they were! Beneath each of the flower heads tiny creatures, the size of a thumb were clinging to the stems of the flowers. One peered up at Owen, growing in confidence.

“And what are you looking at?” The tiny creature said abruptly

“It’s not a Guardians business to go around snooping into committee meetings. You humans are all the same... Silly, fat, earth tramplers!”

 

Owen didn’t have words to explain anything and instead sighed dumbfounded.

Owen’s breath had sent several of the creatures spinning from the plant and into sky, drifting with an absent chaos into the farmer’s field.

“Murderous swine!” The small creature yelled

“I’ve got a good mind to blow you all away!” Owen retaliated, and with that the flower closed! The fluffy yellow of the petals replaced with a dull brown.

 

Owen was shocked. What had he seen? What were they? Owen got closer to the flower gently flicking it. Nothing; no response at all. Owen persisted, he flicked the flower harder still.

 

The earth boomed! Terrified Owen’s head lurched from left to right looking for the cause. It certainly wasn’t his flicking of the flower! The ground shook again, splintering the trees, shaking the birds from their homes. The ground shuddered, throwing Owen across the field. Quickly he scrambled to his feet.

 

A shadow shook the landscape. It was coming towards him.

 

Gathering momentum the shadow lurched forward. The ground was turning to a sickening black, changing the mud baked path to a horrific bleakness. Owen lifted his foot; the ground had changed to a black tar. The shadow boomed again, sending a ripple through the fields. Whatever it was; it was coming straight for Owen!

 

‘Hide Guardian’ shouted a small voice.

Owen looked down, the dandelion had once again opened and from beneath the flower the tiny creatures shouted to Owen. Owen looked around desperately. He had to hide!

 

The field had turned to a swamp of oil. Only the small ditch that ran alongside the field remained its natural colour. The creature was almost on top of him. There was no other choice. Owen took a deep breath and plunged himself under the water.

 

Owen looked up from the watery film that filtered his gaze. The very clouds were turning an inky black, as the creature approached. Owen pressed himself hard against the bank hoping to remain hidden in the undergrowth.

 

The ground quaked!  Each thunderous footstep that the creature took destroyed the land that it came in contact with. The trees withered as if flowers in the heat, vegetation whimpered with a childish innocence. It was getting closer and closer!

 

Then silence. Nothing.

 

The splintered cries disappeared as if carried by the wind. Owen relaxed; it was an oversight. The enormous creature craned its head over Owen’s hiding spot!

Owen pushed hard against the bank of the stream, desperate not to be seen! The beast towered above, sniffing the sky. Plumes of noxious stench emanated from the creature’s nostrils, the thick oily smog swirled around the creature bathing him in its fiery fumes. He stared in horror as the creature’s head chaotically twisted scanning the area.  Left then right then back again, the beasts tongue lashed out, whipping the air like a snake.

 

It was searching for something; someone!

 

Owen had no choice, his ribs banged against him, urging him to come up for air. With a splutter Owen came to the surface. The vile monster’s head lurched toward the source of the noise. Had it heard him? Owen again pushed himself beneath the water.

 

The beast reached into the pool! Each digit of the creatures dredged the water. Owen squirmed frantically to avoid its grasp. Black, oily vapour from the creature’s arm bled into the water. The inky substance swirled in the water painting wretched pictures across the surface. Wailing, wretched skulls swam through the stream searching out their prey. Owen had to hold his breath, he had to stay underneath the water!

 

The creature delved further, this time submerging his whole arm beneath the surface of the stream. It sloshed back and forth, monstrously pawing the water.  Owen needed air and quick. Black ooze continued to drip from the beast’s arms as it scrabbled through the stream, polluting the water, burning Owen’s face.

 

Owen hunched himself into a ball. It was a slight move, but it was enough. The creature’s talons grabbed Owen!

 

Owen was helpless as the beast wrenched Owen’s leg! The creature pulled his foully hooked prize with even more vigour. Owen squirmed in the water desperately looking for a way out. A stone, a rock, a broken bottle even; anything that would break the creature’s grip. There it was, a solution; Owen caught sight of a jagged piece of flint on the bed of the stream. Owen grasped at the make shift weapon. He had it! quickly Owen slammed it against the creature’s arm.

 

The beast roared in pain as he shook back, dropping Owen. He had wounded it, momentarily at least!  Quickly Owen ran, he had to get away! The beast lumbered forward, clutching his wounded limb. The creature howled in pain as water seeped into the wound. The water hissed and fizzed; it was eating away at the beast. The water was a maggot feasting on the rotten platter of the beast’s arm causing it to fall to its knees, thrashing violently from side to side.

 

As it did the sky began to brighten. Like arrows, streams of light poured through the clouds cutting into the beast’s skin. The sun shredded the creatures back, cutting holes into its smog like body!

 

The creature writhed with pain as light streamed through the monstrosities fragile frame until it was nothing.

 

The creature was gone.

 

The clouds slowly returned to their off white colour, the shadowy tar retreated as if it were nothing; returning the path to its original sandy texture.

 

Owen gasped, terror clamped him to the floor. Like a vice pressing on his chest, removing all reason, his mind raced for a logical explanation.

 

There was none, no easily explained answer to what had happened.

 

Owen had seen a monster.

Author's Note

This is my second chapter. I would appreciate any feedback as well as advice how to go about getting it physically printed. Thanks.