The Summons
by Gary Hewitt
The medium
aimed his finger at the corner. “There's
something here. Something, something terrible.”
A torch
followed his direction. A dark shroud stared back.
“What is
it?” pleaded a young woman.
“Quiet.
Don't say a word,” instructed the medium. He
spread his arms and forbade anyone to venture
forward. “Who are you? Why are you here?”
The figure
pointed to the window.
“Did
something happen here? Did something happen to
you?”
The shadow
nodded. Glass smashed. Several people screamed.
“It's OK
everyone, it's only a minor manifestation.
Everyone stay calm.”
A robust
figure next to the medium swayed. His knees
buckled and he shrivelled onto the floor.
The shadow in
the corner drew a finger across its neck.
“What's
happened to him? I thought you said we were safe.”
someone yelled.
A blast of
frigid air scoured the room. The medium backed
away. “Oh Christ, this creature is a shade.
We must leave now,” ordered the medium.
“Quick,
do as Mr. Santini says. We must go.”
Mr. Santini
helped the stricken man rise and they made for
the door. The shade crossed his arms and edged
forward.
“Out now,
out or we'll be damned,” shouted Mr. Santini.
The gang fled
to the entrance of Willow castle. The medium
gasped for night air and the man he helped sat on
a the cold steps of the castle.
“I
thought the spirits might be out in force tonight
on old Samhain but not quite like this. To meet a
shade is highly dangerous but thankfully very
rare.”
“What
about that poor man? Is he going to be OK?”
“He's had
a lucky escape. But he'll be fine in a day or so.
If we hadn't had acted so quick I shudder to
think what would have happened. I'm feeling a bit
faint myself so if you wouldn't mind I'd like to
draw tonight's adventure to a close.”
The group
shuttled to their flock of cars. Soon Mark
Santini and his patient stood alone.
The door to
the castle creaked open. Santini glanced over his
shoulder and a dark figure stepped forward.
“Good
work my son, you did well tonight.”
The shade
tossed a black cowl aside and sat on a stair.
“Thanks Dad, how much did we make?”
Mark reached
into his pocket and drew forth a generous bundle
of notes. “More than enough for the three of
us. Hey Tony, you can wake up the clients are
long gone.”
“Thanks
Mark. It was a good show, that new industrial
cooling unit worked a charm didn't it?”
Mark nodded
and stashed a generous dose of pocket money into
his son's hands.
“Hey,
Uncle Tony did you hear that redhead scream. I
had to stop myself from bursting out laughing.”
Tony ruffled
his nephews hair. “Course I did. She sounded
like a car breaking.”
Mark removed
his phone. “Who wants pizza then?”
His family
responded in the affirmative.
“You'll
have to be a boring old ghost next week son. We
save the shade for Halloween. Come on, let's go
home and scare a Margherita.”
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