A Darkening Breath

Sheilingbank was as nice a care home as you could have wished for. An old converted bungalow that had been tastefully converted to hold 11 elderly and infirm residents. A country setting just off the main road also made it easier for visitors to meet their loved ones. Of course, there were no visitors now. Hadn’t been for some time and would unlikely be any in the near future since the pandemic that turned the whole world upside down. Johns relatives hadn’t been to see him in recent years, many had passed away themselves or were unable to make the journey. He didn’t mind, the staff looked after him and the other residents were a friendly bunch. All of them had those issues that come with old age, stiff creaky joints, memory lapses, water problems, but with it also came a lifetime of memories and experience that were there to be shared.

Anne, the activities co-ordinator did a sterling job of keeping spirts high and every day there were games of Bingo, karaoke singing and art classes for those that wanted to take part. There was never a sense of solitude, or loneliness at Sheilingbank. Occasionally he did have a nostalgic pang and an unexpected memory would pop into his mind and he would be spirited back to an earlier time.

Like now. Mac had been his long legged Jack Russel terrier and the last pet he had owned. They break your hearts though dont they? Over 30 years gone now and that dog could bring a tear to his eye like nothing else. The unconditional love was as pure as snow. Always by his side, for 12 years, till a lump that was initially a cyst, according to the vet, grew and grew, and turned out to be a tumour.

“Mac” he whispered under his breath, and with eyes starting to close, “He always liked chasing after sticks…”

We were out for our daily walkies, as much to get exercise for myself as anything else, when I was surprised to see Mac trotting back to me with a strange object clamped between his jaws.

“Here Mac, what have you got there?” Initially it looked like a bit off a tree branch, but I could see some bits of green fabric on it, and what looked like flaps of flesh as he got closer.

“Good boy, let me see it”, being an obedient dog he dropped it at my feet with his tail wagging, tongue lolling and panting with joy at the gift he brought me. Gift might not be the right word though, as I clapped him on the top of his head and kneeled down for a closer look. I could now see that it was a bone, and a human one at that, about a foot long and looking as if it had been ripped off forcefully from the unfortunate person it belonged to.

At this point you couldn’t say if it was a man or a woman. There were streaks of blood along the exposed parts and tissues of sinew and flesh. Droplets of crimson pooled at the end of it and fell to the damp earth. The sight of it made me draw back in horror. My throat caught and I tried to swallow but suddenly had no saliva. I panicked a little as I struggled to catch a breath. My eyes started to well up but I managed to cough out forcefully and this seemed to clear my airway and I rasped in a welcome breath. What with the damp morning mist that covered the area, and the shock, I felt my chest heave as though I had swallowed a damp piece of cotton that just wouldn’t move.

Wiping my wet and teary eyes with the back of my hand I looked around with caution. My daily stroll regularly took me to this woodland area not far from the Loch and up close to the old abandoned manse on the waterside. It was decrepit now, run down and in a state of disrepair. I noticed how silent it was. No birdsong, no wind in the trees and no other natural noises that were conspicuous only when they were no longer there. Everything eerily silent. Just the grey blanket of gentle mist covering the woodland floor in its sinister shroud and my wheezing breath which I could see fogging in front of my face.

My little faithful companion then turned his head round and pricked his ears. His sensitive hearing had picked something up and he let out a wee yowl. I then heard a noise gathering myself, unlike any sound I had heard before. Barely audible at first it then started to get louder. It couldn’t be human, but no other creature could possibly have conjured up this tortured wail. Like a child screeching while its nails were dragged down an old school blackboard. And as it got louder I could feel my teeth start to grate at the ungodly sound I could hear. I tried to pinpoint the sound and it seemed to be coming from the abandoned building.

The hackles on my neck stood up sharply as I sensed a fearful chill overcome me. There was something happening that made me shiver and the sound of that awful noise made my heart quicken uncomfortably. Despite this, I had an urge to find out where the cry was coming from, and if there was something I could do to help the poor unfortunate. I breathed heavily, hopefully it wasn’t the victim of that damaged femur my little companion had brought me. My time spent in the army had desensitized me to blood and gore and I knew I couldn’t stand idly by while someone was in danger, or worse.

For a moment that forgotten war in Korea reared its ugly head in my mind’s eye. Time had passed and yet I still could see clearly the wanton destruction of my fellow brothers in arms. Bombs exploding around me, obliterating bodies, destroying limbs and bloody showers spraying all and sunder within its presence. Seeing your friend who was not 2 minutes ago sharing a joke with you suddenly be reduced to a lifeless mess of torn blood and bone was an image that never went away. To be suddenly covered in your friends very own lifeblood… and then to be captured and imprisoned in the most horrendous prison camp. I squeezed my eyes closed to rid myself of those nightmarish images.

A little bark awoke me from my senses and Mac stared up at me. His little happy face smiling at me in excitement. He jumped in anticipation as if he knew where to go.

“Let’s go boy, c’mon then” and he took off at a little trot.

I followed just behind. It was getting darker and the clouds were becoming overcast with foreboding menace. There was not a sound to be heard now. Other than that incessant wail of that poor creature trapped in the depths of hell. It pained me to be witness to such torment.

I walked through the woods silently, deftly watching where I put my feet on the barren ground, which had little grass or leaves on it and appeared to be well worn. The light dimmed further, as if a blanket was being lowered over me, even though it was still early morning. Mac kept close to my side and I could hear him softly whimper as he too eyed the imposing building that grew ever near. As I neared the edge of the woods the manse came into full view and I saw a light on one of the windows at the top of the building. A small window, square in design and barely enough to even register, with the broken glass panes shattered in it.

Was that where the leg bone had come from? What incendiary force could have torn it from a human body and forced it out of that tiny aperture? As I moved closer the agonised wailing suddenly got much louder. The sharpness of the cry exploded in my head and I felt a violent burst of painful white light. I had to steady myself for a few seconds till my senses cleared.

I then forced myself to walk quicker, soundlessly over the once manicured lawn and up the old gravel path to the ornately designed entrance to the large concrete steps leading up to the building. I hesitated at the bottom, and could feel myself taking a large intake of breath before starting up the two steps to the door, which was a little crooked and slightly ajar. I put my hand on the door and looked down. Mac wasn’t there. I looked back and he was still on the lawn, with that little tremble that all little terriers seemed to have.

“Don’t worry boy, you just wait here and I’ll come back for you” At this he lay down on the grass facing me, with his paws in front and his eyes looking at me soulfully with a sadness that only a dog can show.

Turning back to the house, I gently pushed the door open.

“Hello” I said, more in hope than expectation. The door creaked open and the dull light shone a grey beam into the darkness beyond, highlighting bars of dust motes rising and falling. The wailing immediately stopped but the silence was now deafening and I could hear the blood pumping in my ears and my heart pounding. I pressed on and stepped into the gloom. There was a double stairway ahead and the two main windows were both shattered letting in a little more light, which allowed me to step forward. I coughed hoarsely and steadied myself. The strange dampness from the old building caught me by surprise, it was like walking into an old Victorian spa but without the comforting warmth. The increase in moisture seeping into my already overworked lungs. The mixture of adrenaline and fear increased my heart rate further and my head still pounded from the shrill cry I heard earlier.

The old wooden floor below me creaked, shattering the quiet and giving me a start. Composing myself I headed towards the stairs and looked up. The hall to the room with the light was on the second floor. I climbed the stairs tentatively and, though it was light enough to see, there was a greyness to it that made me uncomfortable. Taking the steps one at a time I made my way up. My breath getting heavier with each step, my lungs groaning with the effort. A stillness pervaded the atmosphere with a dread that was impossible to ignore.

On reaching the second landing I hesitated and looked down its length. At the end I could see a door to what was surely the room where the noise, and the poor wretch was. The walk towards took forever, with my heart beating so loud I thought it would surely burst.

After what seemed an age, for time appeared to have slowed, I finally reached the door. Pausing outside I took a deep intake of the damp air before raising my hand to push on the faded and decayed wooden door. It was small. Like a child’s door and it slowly opened with a shush as if it were catching on the old worn carpet behind it.

I made my way in and could see the light source, it was an old army camping stove sat on an old wooden fruit box in the corner. It’s gently flickering gas flame struggling against the thick atmosphere. The room, at first, appeared empty as I looked around and the noise had suddenly ceased. Whatever or whoever had caused seemed to have disappeared. I walked over to the window and looked out, I could see Mac down on the lawn, looking up at me, still with that doleful look. The ragged edges of broken glass sticking out of the aged wooden frame.

Glancing round I noticed an old sheet strewn in the corner. It was in shadow and I couldn’t have noticed it at first. As I looked closer it seemed to be moving up and down, breathing even. I felt a sudden coldness overcome me and shivered, putting a hand to my mouth to stifle a cough. Compelled now, I stepped across the room and leaned down to the cover, reaching out my arm. It seemed to gather and respire as I stretched for it.

The touch of the material gave me a slight nervous jolt but I had to carry on and see what was underneath. The silence still pounding in my ears. My shaking fingers closed round it and slowly pulled the cover off the to reveal what was beneath. As it cleared away I stopped and there I could see the poor individual who was responsible for the awful sound I heard earlier. His body lying face down, for it was clearly a man, was still moving, though I don’t know how. His limbs had been ripped from this body, as if a wild animal had attacked him in a frenzy. There were pools of dark crimson blood pooled around him with gore and viscera of all kinds in a hellish and nightmarish pattern. No man could still be alive after this. His arms were stumps, his legs destroyed and there were gaping wounds all along his back. I shakily reached for this creature in order to... What I don’t know. To comfort? To offer some assurance or just to let him know there was someone here for him. I touched his cold shoulder and gently pulled him around. As his head came round I stepped back in horror. His face had been untouched and was free from any blemish whatsoever. As beautiful a human being as I had ever seen. I still reeled at this and staggered back. The face stared at me with the most cerulean blue eyes I had ever seen. I could see his mouth start to open and he said.

“It’s time, your me and we have to go.”

Then his face contorted and he let out a devilish scream of such a high pitch that I feared my ears would burst. His eyes started to bleed and his nose distorted in on itself, his lips burst into flame and cheeks burst forth with maggots and insects from hell escaping as if he was being devoured from the inside out. The scream reached a crescendo and I could take it no longer and I turned away in terror.

I weaved across to the window with my hands over my ears and mouth open in a silent terrified o. I looked out and could see Mac now. He was chewing the bone from earlier and wagging his tail, no longer concerned about me it seemed. I could see a shadow approach him and reach down to him with a friendly hand. Just then the shadows face turned up to me. It was the face I had seen destroyed just moments earlier.

My lungs then started to give out and I gasped for breath, rasping forlornly. The already damp atmosphere became thicker still and I could feel myself struggling to pull in oxygen. My chest heaved and I sat down, head spinning with a million thoughts and memories flashing into my mind. Then… my world went black as a sweet oblivion came over me.

***

The beep from the heart monitor had stopped, a life was extinguished. A lifetime of memories, experiences and loves all gone. The lightness of living apparent in its final moments. The ventilator ceased its noisy respiration of lungs that no longer drew breath. The last remnants of existence slowly expiring through a mouth and lips that would no longer speak. A solemnness overcame the white room as there was a realisation that another human had passed away with little that could be done to save him.

“That poor man. This really is a terrible disease. Fought for his country and probably seen things no man should ever witness. Unable to spend his last few precious hours with his loved ones and there’s nothing we could do.” The nurse shook her head as the doctor called the time of death, and calmly took over, cleaning the old man’s face and wiping his brow. Gently touching his face with the respect she lovingly accorded all her patients. His face had changed in death and she could sense a beauty in him that wasn’t there before Covid-19.

The End