The Soulburn Talisman, Chapter Two: The Fog Monster
The Soulburn Talisman, Chapter Two: The Fog Monster
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I’m publishing the opening pages of my debut novel, The Soulburn Talisman, here on Substack. If you like the sound of it, make sure to pre-order your copy ahead of the release date on May 31.
Previously:
Chapter Two: The Fog Monster
The owner of the hand tugged her to the right, and then she was running behind someone. Her heart hammered in her chest and her breathing came in short, hard bursts. On she ran, stumbling across the mountainside, disoriented by the fog and the abrupt change in direction.
Somewhere far behind them the beast’s snarls grew faint, and the person leading her slowed to a stop. He was also breathing heavily, sweat running down from his dark hair, slicking his forehead.
‘You ok?’ he panted.
‘Yes,’ Brooke replied, out of breath. ‘What was that?’
‘I have no idea,’ said Charlie Flint, wiping his brow. ‘I saw it just before you did. Don’t know where it came from.’
Charlie. She remembered him, didn’t she? The memories were coming thick and fast now.
Charlie Flint sitting at the back of the bus between Noah Hastings and Zak Marshall, sniggering as they flicked rolled-up sweet wrappers at Alex Johnson and Dale Reed across the aisle. Charlie, cool and popular, who rarely talked to her in school.
Why’d it have to be him?
‘We have to find the others, Charlie.’ Brooke looked back the way they’d come, sure the beast was following them through the fog. ‘We have to get out of here.’
‘We will,’ Charlie said, also looking around. ‘If we can just find – ’
He was cut off as something big and black darted past them, just a few feet away. Brooke caught the death scent again, that stench of rotting meat. Her stomach churned. There was another snarl – deep and monstrous – and suddenly they were running again, downhill this time.
‘Charlie,’ Brooke managed, grabbing lungfuls of air. ‘Do you know where you’re going?’
‘No,’ Charlie panted, ‘do you?’ Brooke heard the fear in his voice and it dialled hers up to eleven.
‘What if it got the others?’
‘It didn’t, they’ll be ok.’
‘But what – ’
Charlie wheeled back to face her. ‘They’ll be fine! We’re the ones who got lost. I wasn’t watching where I was going. They’re looking for us right now.’
As Charlie stepped off the bus, he thought, I don’t want to be here.
Unlike most of the other dozen students (bar Tonya, maybe), he hadn’t chosen to come on the trip at all. That decision had been made for him by his parents. They’d agreed, along with the principal, that a weekend hiking in the mountains with classmates would “do him a world of good” after recent goings-on at school.
Charlie strongly disagreed - he recognised thinly-veiled punishment when he saw it - but he knew better than to resist. No-one really listened to thirteen-year-olds anyway, did they? No, he’d pick his battles. And until they came along, he’d have some fun of his own.
Their campsite was little more than a patch of grass on the edge of a forest. Tonya had started muttering about it as soon as they began pitching their tents; when she asked where the toilets were and Mr Green pointed towards the trees, her muttering became full-blown outrage.
Charlie didn’t especially mind the whole sleeping in tents thing. He was bunking with Noah and Zak and knew they’d undoubtedly be up all night, gorging on their secret stash of sweets and fizzy drinks. He also knew Molly Sharp was afraid of woodland animals and had perfected his badger mating call ahead of the trip.
And everything had pretty much gone to plan.
Their midnight growls had sent Molly into hysterics, much to the chagrin of Miss Harington, and they’d even managed to get a good-sized spider into Dale, Alex and Henry’s tent the next morning before breakfast. Alex, despite being the biggest thirteen-year-old in school, was petrified of bugs and almost tore the tent down in his bid to escape.
The actual hike was easy, too. Mr Green led them cross-country from the woods to the lower slopes of the mountain, first passing alongside fields of cows and sheep before later zigzagging between huge boulders and over fast-flowing streams. The mountain peak shifted in and out of view up ahead, sometimes obscured for periods of time by a rise in the trail, other times appearing closer than ever.
Some members of the group grumbled most of the way, complaining variously that they were tired, hungry or bored. Charlie was weary too, but the further they hiked, the more he actually began to look forward to reaching the summit, if that was even possible. Normally he’d spend his weekends staring at a screen with a video game controller in his hands, or kicking a football around the park. He’d never climbed a mountain before and, up until the moment the fog descended, he was starting to think it wasn’t half bad.
He’d been walking with his head down as the white shroud dropped, and when he looked up, everyone else was gone. He’d stopped where he was on the steep slope, breathing hard from the exertion, puzzling. Like Brooke, he couldn’t remember his own name at first, or where he was, or how he’d gotten there. It’d taken several minutes of aimless wandering for those basic facts to return to him.
Then he’d heard the fog monster, snarling somewhere nearby in the white, and he’d started running. He’d run until his chest burned and his knees ached from constant jarring on the loose ground of the mountainside, hoping he’d stumble into one of his classmates, or even one of the teachers. Anything but that thing in the fog. He’d been afraid by then, more than he’d ever been in his life, and he hadn’t stopped running until he heard Brooke calling for help.
Fortunately, he saw the fog monster before she did. She’d been about to scream when he grabbed her hand - if she had, he imagined that would’ve been the end of her. Of both of them.
Now, he saw the fear in her bright blue eyes, mirroring his own. Brooke Woods, the girl who always had her nose stuck in a book, who rarely paid attention to him.
‘D’you think they’re really looking for us?’ she asked. ‘Have you seen anyone else?’
‘No,’ he replied, casting a nervous glance about them. This is the thickest fog I’ve ever seen.
‘We should go down,’ Brooke said. ‘You know, make our way back to the campsite. That’s where the others will be.’
‘Yeah.’
‘They’re probably on their way down, too.’
‘Yeah, you’re right. Let’s - ’
Something crashed across the mountainside nearby. They heard the snarl, unmistakable.
‘Charlie!’ Brooke cried.
‘Let’s go!’
They started downhill as fast as their tired legs would allow, stumbling over protruding rocks and through heathery thickets. Charlie didn’t offer his hand this time, though he honestly wouldn’t have minded if Brooke had grabbed it. Heck, he might even hold Miss Harington’s hand right now.
‘We’ll be out of the fog soon,’ Brooke gasped breathlessly from just ahead of him, ‘once we’re lower down. Then we should be able to see the trail again.’
‘Straight back to camp,’ Charlie said, dodging a jutting rock.
‘Exactly,’ Brooke said. ‘Straight back to… whoa - ’
Charlie saw her go down, tumbling over something in her path. It was too small to be the fog monster.
‘Ow!’ it cried.
‘Who’s that?’ Charlie said.
‘It’s me!’
Dale Reed’s voice came to him, trembling with fear. Charlie saw him on the ground, clutching at his ankle. Brooke had tripped over Dale’s outstretched leg and was scrambling back to her feet, rubbing her elbow.
‘Brooke! Is that you?’
‘Dale!’ She threw herself on him and Charlie saw tears welling in her eyes. Both she and Dale were shaking.
‘What happened?’ Dale said. He sounded confused. ‘I was with Alex, and then I fell. I… couldn’t remember anything for a while. Geez, my ankle hurts.’
‘Did you see it?’ Brooke said, blinking away her tears.
‘See what?’ said Dale. Then, as the realisation hit him: ‘That thing was real? I thought I was hallucinating when it ran past me.’
‘It’s real, all right,’ said Charlie.
‘Dale, let’s go,’ Brooke said, clutching his arm.
‘Brooke…’
‘We have to get out of here, Dale! Charlie - ’
‘Brooke,’ Dale repeated in a flat voice. ‘Behind you.’
A shiver travelled down Brooke’s spine. She and Charlie turned, following Dale’s gaze.
The fog monster was just a few feet away, close enough for them to see it clearly. Brooke’s breath caught in her chest. She thought it was like nothing she’d ever laid eyes on before, standing about as tall as Mr Green but twice as wide, covered from head to toe in thick, black hair. Its limbs were long – much too long – and ended in three-fingered hands and feet capped with talon-like nails. It wore clothing of sorts, colourless rags. Glowing red eyes bulged from the ugliest face Brooke had ever seen – it vaguely resembled something human, but its nose was almost non-existent and its jaw looked as though it’d been pulled down by some invisible weight. Pointed white teeth protruded from its mouth. She could smell rotting meat again.
Dale was breathing fast next to her. All three of them were frozen on the spot, unwilling, or unable, to run.
There was a movement to their right and Brooke’s breath stopped altogether as a second beast drifted into view. It looked like the first, except it was skinnier and had longer hair trailing over its wrinkled forehead. She saw its mouth curve up into what must have been a grin. It circled them slowly.
The first beast growled, breath steaming round its face. Then Brooke saw it raise one of its gnarled fingers and, to her amazement and horror, press it to its lips. It smiled, baring more teeth, and emitted a ‘shhh’ sound.
Brooke whispered, ‘What are they?’
The second fog monster briefly looked away, as though it’d heard something, but at the sound of Brooke’s voice it began to move towards them, its grin extending into a fearsome and hideous snarl. Brooke squeezed her eyes shut, bracing herself.
This is it, she thought. It’s scarier than I thought it’d be.
Abruptly, the beast’s hungry snarl turned into a howl of surprise.
‘Who is that?’ she heard Dale exclaim.
Brooke opened her eyes in time to catch a flash of electric blue, like lightning, and saw the approaching beast fly backwards and explode in a plume of dazzlingly-bright sparks.
Suddenly, someone was standing there with their back to them, someone dressed in a hooded brown cloak, their face concealed. The first beast roared in anger and lunged at the figure, but was thrown backwards by a second burst of light, neon green this time. Brooke heard it shriek as it tumbled away into the fog.
‘Who - ’ Charlie started.
Brooke screamed. She saw the third beast appear in the fog behind Charlie, half a second before his body jerked backwards. He let out an ‘oomph’ of surprise and then he was gone, vanishing into the whiteness.
‘Charlie!’ Dale cried weakly.
Brooke simply stared in shock at the spot Charlie had occupied just a few seconds before, her scream still echoing across the mountain around them. Not a trace of him remained.
The figure spun to face them, whipping fog with her cloak. Brooke caught a glimpse of reddish hair, a feminine face, and eyes that glowed golden beneath her hood.
‘You have to come with me,’ she said, ‘right now.’
Brooke hesitated, but Dale was already staggering to his feet. He winced in pain.
‘Dale, your ankle,’ Brooke said, also rising.
The hooded figure’s golden eyes shifted to Dale’s feet. She pulled something from her pocket and said, ‘Quick, eat this,’ and shoved what looked like a purple sweet into Dale’s mouth before he could protest. His eyes took on a glazed appearance, and for a moment Brooke thought he was going to collapse. Then he seemed to come-to and looked down at his ankle.
‘The pain… it’s gone.’
‘It’s temporary,’ said the hooded figure. Brooke noted her voice also sounded female. ‘Now come with me. Hurry up!’
There was no other option. Already, Brooke could hear the low growl of the beasts somewhere in the fog. They were coming back.
The hooded girl took off at a run and they followed, almost losing sight of her straight away. She was fast, racing across the mountainside on nimble feet, her cloak flapping in the wind. Brooke clutched Dale’s hand as they stumbled after her. His skin was clammy and cold; she imagined hers felt the same.
Is this a dream? she wondered. Maybe I did hit my head after all.
For a couple of seconds, the girl disappeared and they lost their bearings, squinting into the breeze and the fog for a sight of her. When she reappeared, she was to their right, waving them on.
‘This way!’ she called urgently.
They followed her for what felt like an age, staggering over the rocky mountainside, the rising breeze stinging their eyes, stitches digging into their sides. Each time the cloaked girl disappeared, she would reappear at another angle and urge them on. Brooke thought she could hear the fog monsters pursuing them, but she dared not look back.
Then, without warning, the girl stopped dead and they very nearly ran into her. She pointed at a cluster of large boulders nearby, in the centre of which was a dark, narrow opening.
‘In there.’
‘We can’t fit,’ Dale replied, letting go of Brooke’s hand. ‘It’s too small.’
‘It isn’t,’ said the girl.
‘Our friend,’ said Brooke, trying in vain to catch her breath. ‘They… they took him. We have to help him.’
She saw something flicker in the girl’s expression and her golden eyes flared, but all she said was, ‘It’s too late for him.’
‘What?’ Dale cried. ‘It can’t be!’
‘It is, but not for you. Follow me or die here, too. Your choice.’
And without another word, she dived headlong into the hole and was gone.
‘Brooke, we can’t!’ Dale exclaimed, panic-stricken. ‘I don’t like narrow spaces, I’m claustro – ’
There was a bloodcurdling roar somewhere behind them.
Brooke decided. ‘No choice!’ she yelled. She grabbed on to the slippery boulders and swung her legs into the dark hole. It was going to be a tight fit with her backpack on, but there was no time to unclip it.
‘Brooke!’ Dale cried, reaching for her.
She just managed to grab hold of his hand before her momentum carried her through the gap. Dale came flying headfirst after her, and together they tumbled down into the darkness.
For a few seconds, Brooke had the sensation of being inside one of those big curved slides at a playpark as they hurtled downwards at speed, swinging every which way. She had no sense of what was up or down, left or right. There was nothing but pure blackness and the feeling of travelling very, very fast. She was also vaguely aware they were both screaming, all the way down.
And then she saw it, just up ahead and moving rapidly towards them - a pool of white light. As they rocketed towards it, she began to discern colours shimmering through the white – pinks and greens and blues and yellows – every colour imaginable, and more.
Just before they slammed through it and the light enveloped them completely, Brooke closed her eyes and pictured the sun setting over the mountain. A sunset she’d never see.
It was peaceful and calm.
Freedom, she thought.
Then she was in the dream.
A staircase extended ahead of her and she began climbing. Her footfalls reverberated along the walls and off the steps themselves, all smooth stone, neatly carved. Higher and higher they went, spiralling upwards. Something was up there, where the stairs ended, and she wasn’t sure if it was a something she wanted to see.
Her fingers trailed on the wall, brushing across undulations in the stone. It was cold to the touch and seemed to shudder.
She became aware the staircase was ending. Darkness was ahead, just above, cloaked in shadow. Her heart pounded, thumping blood towards her brain, making her feel faint.
Was it fear she felt? Or anticipation?
You are wise. You’ve chosen well.
The voice came from within, but it wasn’t hers. It made her heart race faster, until it felt like it would burst from her chest.
You are wise. Come.
She reached the top of the staircase. There, in shadow, was a closed wooden door. It had an iron ring handle and iron hinges; there was a symbol set into it, something she didn’t recognise.
The voice had spoken in her mind, but it had also come from the other side of the door. She knew it. That fearful, familiar, wonderful voice.
Brooke reached for the handle and the door swung open.
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