Halloween Story Challenge: Catherine Legg

The Path

No-one ever saw what really happened.

Moss-covered stone walls bordered the churchyard, and the narrow path lay shadowed between dark yew trees at one edge and a half-collapsed Tudor hall on the other. Sodden grass and weeds choked the entrance, and ahead there was only blackness – a stark contrast to the autumn sun that cheered the open street. Up above, tangled thorns and branches blocked the way to any casual explorer.

Unless you were a mouse.

Brown feet pattered, and a small nose quested here and there for food. Snuffle and stop, snuffle and stop. She came to where the path entrance met the lane. Paused, just for a moment. Then darted between the close-woven stems, and was gone.

A cat watched. Crouched low, ears alert. Soft rustles gave away the mouse’s progress through the grass. A few moments more, and the cat had been tempted beyond endurance; he padded forward, then followed where the mouse had led. Cat and prey were enveloped by the undergrowth.

And the sounds stopped.

………………………………………………………………………

“They get lost, you know. They won’t leave well alone.”

Matthew turned to see who had spoken. An old woman, seated on the bench across the road from the church. She looked perfectly sane, not the sort of person to address a complete stranger so oddly. A neat perm, coat and scarf carefully matched, shoes so clean they looked new.

“You want to know what’s down the path, don’t you? All the new people do. Saw you here yesterday, too.”

Matthew crossed over. “Yes, well… Can’t help but wonder. So overgrown, all those brambles and branches. Draws the eye today – that darkness, when the rest of the street’s so sunny.”

“Yes, that’s what always happens.”

“What?” He drew back, repelled by her matter-of-fact tone and steady gaze. “What always happens?”

“Bryony, her name was. Only seventeen. A few years ago – here one moment and gone the next, and they never found her. But she was seen on the street here, by the path.”

Matthew relaxed. “That’s very sad – must have been a shock to everyone. But surely…”

“A cold, sunny October day. Exactly the same. There’ve been others too.” Her pale blue eyes held Matthew’s relentlessly.

“Yes, but…”

“She went to look for her cat. They say there must have been a man who attacked her, but they never asked me. Could have told them. The path gets them because they just won’t leave well alone. But no-one ever asks me.”

“Well…” Matthew faltered helplessly. “Sorry, got to go now.” Mad after all, he thought. He retreated down the street, eyes focused ahead, away from the dark mouth of the path that went nowhere.

………………………………………………………

He checked, of course. Googled ‘Bryony’ and the name of the town, and up came the story. There was a blurred photograph of her; brown eyes, head half to camera, mouth crookedly upturned. The case was unsolved – she had never been traced.

Then he dreamt about her, a jumbled fantasy where he was her beloved and a huge black cat wove around them as they lay on a bed of fallen leaves. Then Bryony stood and took Matthew’s hand. “We must follow!” she announced, and led the way onto the path.

He woke, sweat-drenched, body a-tremble.

Later that day, he was drawn once more towards Church Street. As before, the sun streamed from a cloudless sky, although the temperature had dropped, and he walked hunched over, hands pocket-deep. He knew why he was there but would not acknowledge the fact. He would pretend that the path held no lure, that the dark, bramble-strewn entrance was of no consequence. He would be strong.

What was that?

Up ahead, towards the church?

Was that a pale cotton dress or was he just sun-dazzled? But look, there! Surely, dark curls that blew across brown eyes, not just dead leaves on gnarled branches. And that sound… Wasn’t that the happy laugh of a young woman entranced by love? Where had that come from?

And then Matthew was by the overgrown portal that seemed to suck out all the sun. He peered beyond at the unfathomable gloom. “Follow!” she had demanded. And so he took a deep breath and stepped onto the path.

……………………………………………………..

“They get lost, you know. They won’t leave well alone.”

Kelly turned, pleased that someone would talk to her. Stuck-up lot, most of them round here. She wondered whether she should have moved house after all.

What was the old woman on about? The church path? Kelly moved closer.

“There was a young man. He stood just where you are now…”

Catherine Legg