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PAUL KANE down. “It’s for the best,” his father whispered to him. “Freckles should never have existed in our world. I realise that now.” And, before Jacob could do anything, his parents had dragged the chest out of the room, down the stairs, and out of the front door. He begged them not to go, but they loaded the trunk into the boot of their car and drove off. They’d never left him alone before, but he guessed they knew it would take the pair of them to do whatever it was they intended to do… Jacob watched from the open doorway, tears streaming down his face. He waited most of Boxing Day for them to return. They didn’t. Jacob sat in his room, on the bed, knees pulled up to his chest, wondering what had happened. What had they done with Freckles? He tried to push the obvious thoughts out of his head – you know full well what they’ve done with him! – and imagined instead they might have taken him to a demon sanctuary somewhere, if such places existed (he’d never seen adverts for them on TV; no ‘Demons in Need’ appeals either). He wondered if he would ever see the creature again… A question that was answered just before tea-time, December 26th. Jacob heard screams coming from the street outside and rushed to his window to look out. Said street was in turmoil. Bodies littered the road, the fronts of houses were scorched, windows smashed. It looked like a warzone. And there, in Mrs Higgins’ front garden, was Freckles. But he wasn’t the demon he’d been yesterday when he left. Oh, no. Apart from being severely pissed off, Freckles was a good ten-fifteen feet tall, more mature in his appearance, fully scaled, standing almost completely upright, and appeared to be dripping wet. Of Jacob’s parents there was no sign. He’s come home, thought Jacob, but he’s got the wrong house. The boy was just about to rush outside when he realised his mistake. Freckles let loose another one of his laser-vision rays, like Cyclops from The X-Men, blasting away Mrs Higgins’ front door. He disappeared momentarily, and when he came into view again, he had Scrappy in his gigantic paw. He dangled the dog above his mouth, opening the maw to reveal teeth that were more like a sabre-toothed tiger’s now. The dog stopped yapping briefly, obviously aware of what was to - 48 -

Estronomicon Christmas 2008  

The eZine of fantasy, sci-fi and horror

Estronomicon Christmas 2008  

The eZine of fantasy, sci-fi and horror

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