Bloodstone Read online

  Eventually, I fell into a deep but restless sleep punctuated by a series of frightening nightmares… but one particular dream stood out.

  The vision began in stages, first with me crawling along the threads of my dream catcher as if I had become a spider caught in a tangled web. My hands and feet felt sticky, and it was difficult to cling to the rope. I had trouble climbing through the many woven levels of the dream catcher. When I arrived at the core, instead of protecting me from bad dreams, an awful nightmare began.

  I stood on a deserted beach, looking at the sea. For mere moments it reminded me of a picture postcard of tranquillity. With a furious explosion, tiny stones rose from the ocean bed, skimming the surface of the water and bouncing several times towards the shore. No longer peaceful, the picture postcard scene changed. It was then, from the heart of the malevolent sea, an invisible force spewed stones in my direction. The pebbles piled up in a steady stream, rising from the foaming waves until they reached the sandy shore.

  I tried to dodge the stone missiles, diving away, but my every move continued to be thwarted by shells, broken crabs’ claws, and stones cutting into my skin. Above, the sky turned black and menacing. The winds howled and battered against my body. I couldn’t continue. The strength of the wind grew too strong. The shells cut and slashed at my defenceless skin as I fought the onslaught. I opened my mouth to scream for help, but my mouth flooded with sand. Gasping for breath, I spat until the choking sensation subsided.

  An area free of debris formed a protective orb around me. To my surprise, only a few metres away, I spotted Ryder accompanied by Emily. I watched them huddled together on the sand—kissing, locked in a passionate embrace and surrounded by the swirling sand.

  At the furthest corner of the beach, I spied Will and Mitch. Those were the strange boys from the river walk the day Ryder had come to my rescue. I observed them taking photos of the sandstorm. The two boys wore tee-shirts. Their upper arms revealed black tattoos which danced on the surface of their skin, and then escaped, twirling into the air, becoming two distinct shadow shapes. Each shadow man kept repeating the same words: ‘He kissed me and told me so, he told me so. His beguiling words filled my head. His black tattoo shadows crept in my body. I had no power to shake them off, so I spoke his words. Spoke his words.’ I drew back in shock, confused by the strange words the shadow men had spoken. The protective orb disintegrated, and the sand flooded inward, choking me once more. With terrified eyes, I watched as Ryder and Emily’s bodies engulfed in sand up to their necks. The couple didn’t appear to notice, and they remained locked in a continuous kiss with no pause button. The shadow men circled the couple, picking up pace, dancing faster and faster.

  Frightened, I curled into a ball, feeling the blood pounding in my head. I cried out for help, but no one answered. The unrelenting sandstorm swallowed my screams. Cautiously, I lifted my head, hoping for this nightmare to end. It was then a new threat appeared. The lifeless feathers from my woven dream catcher had knitted together to form a criss-cross pattern in the shape of a flock of malicious seagulls.

  The largest of the seagulls grew until it was the size of a human-sized bird of prey. The thing transformed before me, and I took in the huge beak and blood-red eyes. Sharp hooked talons dug into the sandy earth. I cowered on the sand, crying and whimpering, fearful for my life. I hoped and prayed the creature would spare me. As it flew towards me, I closed my eyes, prepared to meet my maker. However, instead of killing me, the hideous bird grabbed me and flew off into the stormy sky. Fearing this was the end, I clutched the feathers on the bird’s back, afraid I would fall off. On the beach below, I watched Ryder and Emily break from their embrace and glance up and wave as the bird propelled me to an unknown fate. As I flew over the beach, hanging onto the bird for dear life, I saw Will and Mitch. They were no longer possessed by shadow men; they were oblivious to my distress. They recorded the scene like a pair of professional photographers.

  My captor flew me towards a large crag of rocks that resembled the outline of a sleeping lion. The enormous bird banked right and dumped me unceremoniously on the ground. I tumbled and rolled in the dirt until I stopped at the centre of the lion shaped crag. There before me rose a towering volcano. The rocks at the front of the crags contained red-hot stones, swirling around in a circular motion.

  To the rear of the cliff, the rocks took on the appearance of a lion’s haunches. Tiny, multi-faceted, sparkling crystals were strewn amongst the rocks. I couldn’t believe my eyes, but those gems looked just like the crystals I’d attached to the bottom of my dream catcher.

  At the centre of the volcano, I spied a massive, metallic grasshopper with red eyes sitting next to Ryder. I don’t know how Ryder got there, but I could make out his features with little trouble. It was then it hit me. I recognised this monster—the grasshopper of the Corpus Chronophage clock! The strange pair pointed at me and spoke in words I couldn’t understand. The mechanical grasshopper creaked and groaned as it popped smouldering crystals into its belly compartment. The grasshopper paused for a moment as if contemplating what to do next. Then he took an ancient key out of his belly compartment and dangled it in the air mysteriously. I heard a pitifully deafening sound that tormented me. I tried to block out the noise by covering my ears. But it made no difference. Thereafter, I heard the unmistakable refrain of an ice-cream van playing a children’s tune that disturbed rather than pleased me. A terrible darkness filled my thoughts. My stomach churned with nausea as if I had been on the fastest, most terrible rollercoaster ride.

  The sound of a clock ticking increased in decibels until the noise echoed against the walls of the cliff. The volcano bubbled and belched, shooting smoke and rocks into the air. It roared like a lion, finally awakened from its slumber, furious that its precious crystals were being stolen by the mechanical insect.

  I couldn’t take it anymore. Blood pounded in my head, and I ran in the opposite direction. The earth trembled and splintered, cracking beneath my feet. I sprinted and leaped over chasms to avoid the hot lava as it spread a burning path of terror.

  The cracks in the ground deepened, and a gaping hole opened before me. I stopped before the chasm while my heart hammered in my chest. There was nowhere left to run. My legs trembled, and I launched off the ground in one last enormous, death-defying leap. The ground opened beneath me. I fell deep into the open chasm, screaming. Within the volcano’s centre, the size of the gap increased and lava ebbed and flowed, sending roaring sparks exploding around me. I continued to free fall; the wind whizzing by my ears from the swift decent. There in front of me loomed the Scottish parliament rising out of the volcanic rock of Arthur’s Seat, a building ablaze in a strange glory of colour. It was the most curious thing, but I could hear the loud clamour of politician’s voices grumbling and those of the citizens arguing. I wondered if their divisive words were cracking the core of the earth. Such strange thoughts for a Cambridgeshire girl plummeting to her death in a volcano dream.

  The heat was intense, and knowing I had reached the end of my rope, I fainted. I drifted in and out of consciousness, swirling in a miasma of fog. Ryder’s concerned face appeared in the mist before me. I heard his voice. ‘Quick, follow me, the volcano’s about to erupt again.’

  I reached out my hand towards Ryder as the volcano roared with a fury that shook me to the foundations of my soul.

  Something dragged me from my disturbed dream and released me from the nightmare with a hellacious rumble. Curious pounding noises reverberated from the walls, vibrating throughout my room. It was hot, and I felt like I was suffocating. I watched as ghostly flickers of burning embers danced and played on my bedroom walls.

  Terror crept into my throat. I sat up and spied Shadow. I could see two of him. I rubbed my eyes, trying to remove the double image. When I glanced at the cat once again, the double images of Shadow crouched on the floor, twin faces filled with a curious picture of concern.

  Drenched in sweat, my body continued to tremble. Nightmarish sc
reams erupted from the pit of my stomach, and I howled, releasing them into the stillness of the night.

  Mum rushed in, her pale ghost-like face mirroring my own, a luminous, disturbing glow in the darkness. ‘Oh, my God, Amelina, what are you screaming for? What’s the matter?’

  From the mirror over my dressing table, Esme woke up, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

  Aunt Karissa nearly tripped over Dad as she rushed into the room in her haste to see what had happened. Dad swayed, righted himself, and approached my bed. Concern etched the lines around his eyes.

  I felt disorientated, but somehow I managed to sit up and lean back on my elbows. Fear clawed at my heart. I stared at my covers, bit my lower lip, screwed my eyes shut, and threw the quilt back. I opened each eye in turn, fearful of what I might find. My legs were right where they should be, attached to my hips. I gazed at pure flesh and bone, not a weird apparition of ebbing and flowing brought on by this crazy nightmare. ‘My legs, they’re okay. Yes! They’re normal. I’m okay.’

  ‘Yep, you really are the most entertaining friend ever, Amelina. Who needs TV,’ Esme giggled, evidently on one of her highs. I glared at her with a look on my face that told her to shut up. Esme clamped her lips together and moved to the back of the mirror.

  ‘Of course, your legs are normal, Amelina. What else could they be?’ said Mum. The expression on her face said it all. She thought I was bonkers.

  ‘You sure you’re all right, Amelina? You screamed the house down and woke us all.’ Dad’s voice faltered, his speech slower and more slurred than usual.

  ‘You scared the living daylights out of me, Amelina,’ cried my aunt, raising her hand to her forehead in a pretend swoon.

  ‘I’m sorry. That was the worst nightmare I’ve ever had. I felt the earth cracking apart, and all hell broke loose. I can’t be without my dreamcatcher, Mum. I can’t. Please… please, can I have it back?’

  ‘I want one, too, please,’ said Esme, laughing. Her bottom lip quivered as her laughter faded and she sobbed, ‘Because I’m in a living nightmare.’ I ignored the tears and gave Esme another if you can’t be quiet, I’ll have to work out a way to throttle you look.

  Mum pulled a face but relented. ‘Okay, Amelina, that’s quite enough ridiculous commotion and theatrics for one night. I’ll get your dreamcatcher and your precious crystals before you do a repeat performance and upset the neighbours.’

  My heart soared, and I made a hasty promise. ‘Thanks, Mum. I promise I’ll do my best to keep my room tidy.’ In the mirror, Esme couldn’t help but stifle a giggle at that one.

  Mum raised an eyebrow. ‘Promises are meant to be kept.’

  ‘I know.’ My voice sounded shrill to my ears.

  Mum eyed me suspiciously. ‘Amelina, I hope you mean it. Your promises always sound like a hollow ping-pong ball, quick to fire off but with little substance fulfilled on their return.’

  ‘I promise.’ I looked Mum right in the eye. Esme wagged her finger at me. She gave me a glare which had an uncanny resemblance to Mum’s. Esme placed her hands on her hips and laughed so hard that seconds later she was crying. Poor Esme, her emotions were all over the place.

  Mum pulled the covers over me and said, ‘Straight to sleep, Amelina. You have your art exam tomorrow.’

  ‘Thanks, Mum.’

  Mum shook her head in puzzlement and left without saying another word. Aunt Karissa leaned down and gave me a peck on the cheek. ‘Sweet dreams and good luck.’ She smoothed my hair away from my face. She turned toward the door and blew another kiss.

  Dad stooped down to deposit a gentle kiss on my forehead. But his skin was so rough it felt like I’d cut myself with an abrasive razor. I winced.

  ‘Sorry, Amelina, I forgot,’ said Dad sadly. He shuffled out of the room with his slow gait.

  Mum crept back into my room with my dream catcher and crystals in her hands. She stood by the bed and hung the dream catcher back on the hook. She paused for a minute, and then placed my crystals on my bedside table before she said, ‘Goodnight.’

  As soon as she had shut the door, I turned on Esme. ‘Well, that was quite a show you put on; one minute you were laughing, the next minute you were crying.’

  ‘Come on, it gets so annoying around here. I have zero fun… all I get to do is hear you fighting with your mum. My moods are up and down like a demented Yo-Yo. One minute I’m sliding into despair, the next I’m on a high like I’ve been sniffing some hot glass!’

  ‘Keep off the hot glass, and shove over on your mirrored bed. Try to get some sleep before I unfriend you forever.’

  ‘You can’t do that. I’ve no social media.’ Esme’s bottom lip curled in disgust.

  I shook my head. ‘That sucks. Truly it does. But you know what I mean. Now, behave yourself!’

  ‘Humph, that’s harsh! Nightie-night social media junkie!’ Esme yawned.

  ‘Yeah, sweet dreams, social-media nada girl. And no more crying,’ I said.

  Esme nodded. Seconds later, I could see she was fast asleep. Lucky girl. She always went to sleep so fast, and right then I assumed her continual seesawing emotions must exhaust her.

  There didn’t seem to be any sign of Mum returning, so I cleaned and polished my precious crystal collection until they gleamed.

  I laid back on my bed and relaxed a little, but not too much, as I had my art exam to think about. The house sighed with great rumbling groans while Shadow purred from under the bed. The rest of the night was tranquil, apart from Esme’s loud breathing.

  The unexpected jangle of my mobile ringing launched me out of bed. I answered the call and found Ryder at the other end of the line. He had phoned to wish me luck in taking my art exam and suggested that we meet up afterward.

  As soon as I put down my mobile, it dawned on me that I hadn’t told him about my exam. I scratched my head. How had he known? Normally I would have been pleased to hear from him, but the disturbing dream catcher nightmare had caused me to consider a lot of unanswered questions. Ryder’s strange ability to read my thoughts had left me with more than a touch of impending anxiety.

  Puzzle Piece 27:

  The Art Exam

  Exam nerves try this,

  Watercolour life exists,

  Anxiety shot,

  It’s puzzling, can’t be real,

  But shocked silence says it is.

  I overslept. Of all the days, this had to be the worst. I scrambled from my bed and threw on my dressing gown.

  ‘Good luck in your exam, Amelina.’ Esme grinned and gave me an enthusiastic thumbs-up sign.

  ‘Thanks. I think I’ll need it.’ I smirked, trying my best to grin.

  The after-effects of the nightmare had left my limbs feeling heavy and my mind slow to react. I walked about the house in a stupor, my face pale and ghost-like. My footsteps thudded about as if I carried lead weights on my ankles. By the time I’d slipped into my school uniform, packed my school bag and art materials, there was no time for breakfast. I placed my art folder by the front door, and in my haste, I forgot to take it or to say goodbye to Mum.

  She caught me as I was about to leave. ‘Amelina, your art folder! Last night and now this!’

  ‘Sorry, Mum.’ I picked up the folder and made for the door.

  Mum’s eyes narrowed, and her lips tightened. ‘Why can’t you remember it? You are hopeless. You have your exam today!’

  ‘I’ve got it, stop stressing me!’

  ‘Have you had your breakfast?’ Mum glared at me.

  ‘Yes,’ I lied, making a dash for it before she found out the truth.

  I heard her final two words, ‘Good luck.’

  My mood didn’t improve as I walked down the path. The ten-minute walk to the bus stop allowed ample time for the exam nerves to whisk a stir in my bubbly tummy. To add to my already spiralling levels of anxiety, I realised I’d forgotten my chalk pastels. I couldn’t believe my stupidity.

  As soon as I found a seat on the bus, I rummaged through my art folder. The unique
paint set that Aunt Karissa had asked me not to use at school caught my eye hidden in a corner amongst folded scraps of paper. I didn’t understand how it had gotten there. What choice did I have? It was just as well it was there, or else I wouldn’t have been able to take part in the exam.

  My thoughts returned to the last time I’d used the paints, and that weird creature had arrived on my doorstep. That was the last thing I needed. I only hoped that monster wouldn’t jump out of my canvas in the middle of my exam!

  My art teacher, Miss Crowther, always came to class dressed in vibrant colours with coordinating accessories. Today she’d completed her stylish ensemble with an elaborate silky scarf and bright red lipstick.

  I hadn’t dressed to impress. I’d left without brushing my wavy hair or applying any makeup. It was so bad I’d even forgotten to brush my teeth. My polo shirt bunched up, and I had a snag in my tights. I looked a sight!

  Miss Crowther rushed about the class, her bubbling personality bursting forth, trying to motivate us. Soon the dreaded examiner arrived, a short, balding man with a quiet, stern face.

  I took out my equipment and waited for the examiner to ask us to proceed. The canvas I’d brought appeared large, almost too big to fill. My hands trembled as I contemplated the bare whiteness staring back at me.

  I picked up the brush and started painting. Soon, it became laden with crystal paint, its fibres tingling and glowing. With every stroke of the brush, an inexplicable surge of energy pulsated through the nerve endings in my fingertips straight into my pounding heart. My nails turned the brown hue of the brushes, though fainter, much less noticeable than before. This time the brushes were silent as if they knew an exam was in progress.

  The phenomenal rush I felt from using the paints again made me feel superhuman. I worried that if my heart pounded any louder, it would jump out of my chest and land in my clammy hands!