Hi everyone, Todays post will be about my book and the next chapter. In this chapter I introduce another two characters to the story that i hope you will love as much as i do.
I normally dont do videos on a friday but i did release a rather personal video on youtube today so the link is below if you would like to see it.
Besides that, happy reading, #loveyourguts and i'll see you tomorrow xx
Chapter 5
This was it. The moment I had been anticipating for over 6 months, the story that would make or break my career as an investigative journalist. I, Lunar Jones, was about to interview the infamous Demarco Lynch, and this time, he would not get away.
Mr. Lynch had been under major investigation for well over 8 months now, in relation to a string of grave robbing’s that had been occurring all over the UK, and, had so far, evaded all media attempts to get a statement from him. Well, not this time. I charged up to his residence, a dark stone building blending into the night, surrounded by tall metal fences that were electrified, as a poor photo journalist had recently discovered, while trying to get a shot of the elusive entrepreneur.
Armed with pepper spray and a recording device, I move up the quiet street, spotting Mr. Lynch, getting out of a black car, and heading onto the footpath. From the few photo’s I had been able to recover from the internet, I recognized the shaved head and black sunglasses he always wore out in public, along with the creepy black robe that covered his entire body. Why anyone would need sunglasses at night was beyond me, but I didn’t have time to ponder that thought, as he was moving quickly to his residences front gates.
“Mr. Lynch! I have some questions that need answers” I run to try and catch up with him. Ignoring me, he continues to move with purpose, his stocky body rolling under the robes as he picks up the pace. Not fast enough. I run to block his way and before he can move to get around me, I move with him to block his way again, asking the questions everyone in the United Kingdom wanted to know.
“You are connected to an investigation regarding the missing bodies of three young women from Highgate Cemetery, do you confirm or deny this accusation” I say so fast I’m not even sure he understood what I said, from the exasperated look on his face.
“Deny” he tries to move around me again.
“Are you, or are you not attempting to buy Arnos Vale cemetery in Bristol?” I demand, moving with him.
“No, now get the fuck out of my way” he replies angrily, trying to stare me down through his black circular glasses.
“It’s a coincidence that the bodies go missing, your connected to the crimes, and now you’re trying to buy a whole cemetery, isn’t it?” I ask to gage his reaction to such a blatant accusation.
“Fuck you” he shoulders past me and makes it to his front gate before I can reach him again.
“The people have a right to answers Mr. Lynch, whether you are guilty or-” he whips around so fast, I almost stumble back under the ferocity of his anger.
“Don’t you think it’s a bad idea to approach someone that has been accused of stealing young women’s bodies?”
I am so completely floored by the underlying threat he just made, that Mr. Lynch uses the opportunity to duck behind his gate, effectively ending my interrogation.
“You should be more careful young lady” he says ominously to me and turns to walk up the overgrown path to his house. “Pretty young things tend to go missing in the night.”
And with that last frightening statement, he walks through his front door, and, slamming it closed behind him, leaves me shaking in sheer terror outside where the night seems a lot more terrifying than it did before.
I stand, frozen in place, and look around the street, seeing shadows and movements I hadn’t noticed before, and contemplating what on earth I was going to do next. I blew it. That was my only shot to catch him off guard with my questions, and all I got were vague answers and a threat. Maybe I could write my report based on my encounter with-
The front windows of Mr. Lynch’s house explode, and my whole body gets thrown by the force of the explosion on to the hood of a nearby car. In a daze, I role of the hood and land heavily on my hands and knees next to the vehicle, while ash and debris from the house settle all around me. I can’t make out any sounds, my ears are ringing so loudly, but I try to focus my eyes on what remains of the smoking ruin that is Mr. Lynch’s home. No one could have survived the blast, but I reach into my pocket to try and retrieve my phone to call the authorities.
With shaking hands, I pull it out of my jeans back pocket, and realize that I must have landed on it, when I was thrown from the force of the blast, as the screen is completely shattered. Well, a house going up in flames tends to draw a lot of attention, so I figure the police are on their way, hopefully with an ambulance, I think to myself as I role onto my side, all energy leaving my body.
I can feel the heat of the fire on my skin, everything begins to darken around me. Are those sirens in the distance I wonder, as I fall into a deep blackness, where there is no pain, just… nothing.
Things hadn’t gone according to plan. The human wasn’t supposed to have been there, and, was now a lose end.
I approach her still form from my hiding spot across the street, having watched the entire exchange between her and the Necromancer, and the subsequent explosion that had resulted in her current state of unconsciousness. Fortunately, I had used a remote detonation device, not a timer on this bomb, otherwise the bomb could have gone off without the target being in the property.
I hear sirens in the distance, and knowing I don’t have much time, I can’t help but look at the strangely beautiful human, with her long, dark hair, falling in soft waves down her back and her pale ivory skin, now marred with cuts and dirt. Her form was thin, but shapely enough to entice most men, and with her height being at about 5’8, she was one of the most stunning humans I had ever seen.
A pity to take such a creature from this earth, but there was little choice in the matter. There could be no witnesses.
As I move my hand to my chest harness, removing a long silver dagger from its holding, I stop as her scent drifts to me on the slight breeze, and amongst the ash and smoke, I detect something not quite right about this female. Maybe she wasn’t entirely human after all. Intrigued, I slide the blade back into place, and kneel to get a closer look, the sirens sounding closer now.
In a split second my decision is made, and I rise, moving away from the burning house. With a final look at the woman, I dematerialize away, knowing that I would be seeing her again soon.
