Whatever Happened to Lucky Eddie?
Lucky Eddie ran frantically down Nightshade Wynd. His hair stuck up like a startled ferret and his eyes were filled with terror. He’d been warned never to go near Nightshade Wynd, to take the long way back to the shop, especially late at night when only the creepiest and most horrible creatures were lurking in the shadows. Creatures like the Darkles, the two shadowy figures chasing after him right now. He could hear their long cloaks flapping in the cold night air as they soared above him, searching…searching…
Keep running. Keep going, not much further now.
His battered leather shoes skidded on the frosty cobblestones, but he quickly regained his balance and ran on.
Then they saw him, sprinting like a maniac, caught for a flicker of a second in the neon lights of the Pitchstone cinema. Nightshade Wynd was beside the Pitchstone and even on the brightest day it was always steeped in shadows. Tonight a thunderstorm raged in the distance and the shadows seemed darker than usual.
Whoosh! The Darkles changed direction, gathered pace and homed in on the teenager, hissing and howling in menacing voices as they swooped after him.
Lucky Eddie darted into a doorway and pressed himself into the shadows. The freezing air burned his lungs as he gasped for breath. He waited a moment and then peered out. He could see the far end of the wynd, lit by the glow of a streetlamp. Not far now. He could do it.
Then he saw a big, dark green delivery van shrouded in mist at the end of the wynd. Hurray! His friends were looking for him. Spurred on, he ran full pelt towards the van.
‘Hey, help, help! Mr Boo!’ he shouted.
But they didn’t hear him.
The van slowly started to pull away.
He chased after it in desperation.
‘Help! Mr Boooooo.’
He almost reached the van, but from nowhere, a third Darkle appeared and grabbed hold of him. This Darkle was taller and more powerful than the others. Its eyes shone bright red and its hiss was horrifying.
Lucky Eddie let out a torturous cry which was quickly stifled by a gnarled hand.
The other Darkles swooped in — and then everything became silent.
Moments later, the three ghouls flew off with Lucky Eddie into the night, carrying him like a rag doll. Their long grey cloaks merged with the stormy sky and only their eyes, like red lights in the darkness, could be seen.
At the far end of the wynd the van drove off, unaware of Lucky Eddie’s horrible fate.
And in the icy mist a man was watching, watching and waiting for something, and then he disappeared into the shadows.
1
Strange One
Murphy.
Twilight Street was asleep as the thunderstorm gathered pace over the heart of the town. Eerie, swirling clouds soared above the shops and houses far below, casting dark shadows across the starless sky. A sense of foreboding filled the air, and the howling wind whipped and snarled across the rooftops as if it had a grudge against something, or someone.
It was 2:30 am, and the only light in any window came from the attic bedroom of an old gothic–looking house. This was Murphy’s room.
The storm had woken him up in the dead of night — or was it something else that had disturbed his sleep? He looked warily around the room and used his bedside lamp as a searchlight to peer into every darkened corner. There was nothing out of sorts that he could see. Everything was still in a bit of a muddle. Half unpacked cardboard boxes and cases were scattered on the floor. He’d promised his mother he’d tidy his things away tomorrow. They’d only just moved in. Moving to a different town, miles from where they used to live, was a daunting thought, but exciting too. Maybe that’s why his imagination was working overtime. It was silly to think there was someone in his room…
Creeeeeeeak!
Murphy clutched at the duvet and pulled it up until only his startled grey eyes and dark, messy hair that stuck up in wild peaks were visible. ‘Who’s there?’ he said.
Silence — then, creeeeeeak!
He held his breath and listened. Silence again. Perhaps the house with its uneven floorboards was creaking with age. Old houses did that, didn’t they?
Crack! A flash of lightning ripped across the sky and lit up the room. The force of it caused an electrical short. The lamp flickered then pinged into darkness.
Murphy fumbled under his pillow in a frantic search for the torch he always kept handy. He found it, flicked it on and shone the beam around the room. Apart from the storm raging outside, everything seemed fine. Then the floorboards creaked again and he shone the light in the direction of the sound. ‘Who is it?’
But there was no one to be seen.
It crossed his mind to call his mother from downstairs, but he reconsidered. He didn’t want to seem weak. He always tried to be strong these days ever since his father went missing.
He heard noises outside — howling, wailing and other ghoulish sounds. He’d never heard anything quite like it before. He had to see where the noises were coming from.
He crept over to the window and peered outside. The street was dead. There was no traffic and the shops were closed for the night. So where were the noises coming from? Then he saw a big, dark green delivery van turning slowly into Twilight Street. The sides of the van were expanding and contracting wildly, as if something really weird was trying to get out. Judging by the eerie howling and undulating metal, whatever was inside was not your average delivery.
Part of him wanted to run and hide, but instead he was compelled to watch what happened next.
The van stopped outside one of the shops. A sign on the door was barely visible. It read:
CLOSED UNTIL MIDNIGHT ON TUESDAYS.
Murphy frowned. What type of shop opened at midnight?
The driver, a small tubby man wearing spectacles, got out of the van. He walked over to the shop, unlocked the front door and switched on a green lantern that was hanging outside. It lit up the name above the shop: SECONDHAND SPOOKS.
Murphy gulped. Secondhand what?
The man approached the rear of the delivery van and called cheerfully to whoever or whatever was inside.
‘We’re here!’
Boisterous noises and wild activity came from inside the van.
‘Yipeee! Hooray!’ Or something like that. Murphy was too mesmerised to decipher it exactly.
The man unlocked the van doors.
‘I know we’re a bit late, but remember, there’s no need to —’
The moment the doors opened, the man was swept aside in a loud, multi–coloured stream of energetic light that whizzed from the van straight into the shop.
Murphy could hardly believe what he was seeing. He didn’t dare blink so he wouldn’t miss a moment of it.
The shop was jumping with activity, like someone setting off fireworks in a box — loud, lively and bright.
The tubby little man adjusted his spectacles and headed towards the shop, finishing what he’d been saying. ‘No need to rush. Plenty of shelf room for everyone.’
He switched off the green lantern, and just before he stepped inside the shop, he looked up in the direction of Murphy’s room.
Panic! Murphy dropped the torch, stumbled and tripped over himself trying to dive back out of sight, then to make matters worse, a gust of wind whooshed open his windows causing him to flap like a maniac.
The man smiled knowingly to himself, then went inside the shop and closed the door behind him. The premises suddenly became calm, dark and quiet, almost as if nothing strange had happened.
Murphy slammed the windows shut, jumped into bed and tugged the duvet up to his nose. Only his eyes, wide with fear and disbelief, peered over. He had no clues and no logical means to investigate what he’d seen. Who would ever believe him?