When the light cleared, the All-American Travelling Troubadours found Dominic Moore – reanimated and whole, and dressed in a Confederate soldier’s uniform – standing over them.

  *

  Dominic Moore was back from the grave, his cremains and soul realigned. He seemed real enough to touch, yet he was on a plane between life and death.

  Anthony gazed upon his father, saw an invisible foreign wind tousling his brown locks, glimpsed a golden glow on his chiselled face. He fit the grey woollen soldier’s uniform well, even if it made no sense. He was an impossible sight, but a beautiful one. The dead man’s presence left everyone – including the demons – mute, but Anthony’s excitement overwhelmed him and burst from his lips.

  ‘Dad!’

  Dominic Moore turned, his smile gleaming. ‘Hey there, Ant. You just stay there, you hear?’

  ‘Yes sir!’ Anthony said and grinned wildly – only his father ever called him “Ant”, a nickname Dominic bestowed upon him when he was two.

  ‘It’s good to see you again, son,’ Dominic said.

  Madeline pushed her way through the other children to stand by Anthony. She took the boy’s hand in hers. ‘Dominic?’ she cried ‘Oh, my God!’ She clasped her free hand over her mouth as tears of joy flowed.

  ‘Hey, Maddie,’ Dominic said, his eyes filled with tenderness. ‘It’s good you came. I was starting to run out of juice, calling to you both.’

  ‘That was... you... in my head?’ Madeline said, her voice trembling. ‘How... how can you even be here... alive? And why are you dressed like that?’

  Dominic nodded and turned to the creatures cowering at his feet. ‘I’ve got some unfinished business to attend to first, Maddie, then I’ll explain.’ He stretched out his arm to his wife and son. ‘You need to stay back.’

  Madeline and Anthony stepped away, gathering the other children with them. The demons watched them, but it wasn’t long before their eyes were back on their escaped prisoner. Mister Crispin got to his knees and grated his teeth together in anger.

  ‘That was quite the trick you pulled, Mister Moore,’ Crispin said. ‘Almost as good as Kaskaraken. I’d love to know how you did it, before I kill you all over again!’

  ‘You let them all go and we’ll chat all you like, just you and me.’

  Crispin stood and smoothed down his coat. ‘I don’t think they’ll be going anywhere,’ he said. ‘I’ll tell you what’s going to happen. First, I’m going to tear you apart limb from limb in front of your slut wife and bastard son. Then we’re all going to get the meals we were promised. When we’re done we’ll be getting back on the road again – I so want to see how the world has changed.’

  Dominic sniggered derisively. ‘You’re never getting out of these woods.’

  ‘What makes you think that?’

  Dominic gestured to the woods. ‘I’ve got help – someone who knows you all too well; someone who’s been waiting a long time for this moment.’

  Anthony watched Crispin study the uniform his father was wearing. While the boy couldn’t see its significance, the shocking realisation that surfaced behind Crispin’s eyes meant the demon knew the secret all too well.

  ‘The sergeant!’ Crispin cried.

  Crispin shrieked long and loud, charging headlong at Dominic, tackling him. The other demons got to their feet and scrambled after them. Anthony and Madeline cried out as Dominic rolled in the dust, fending off Crispin’s nails and bites.

  Anthony’s heart ached as Crispin’s teeth came close to his father’s face; he couldn’t lose his father all over again at the hands of these monsters. The boy gasped as his father miraculously gained the upper hand, flipping Crispin over onto his back. Unfortunately, this left Dominic open to fresh attack from the other troubadours.

  Rukus unsheathed his blade and stabbed it down into Dominic’s shoulder. A fine blue light leaked from the wound, like air from a torn weather balloon. Dominic moaned in agony.

  ‘Dad!’

  Anthony tried to run to his father, but Madeline dragged him back. He saw fury cross his father’s face; an emotion the man had rarely displayed in life. Dominic reached back and slapped Rukus across the face, shattering his jaw and careening his thin body into Celeste and Kaskaraken, sending the three of them tumbling to the ground.

  Crispin reared up to sink his teeth into Dominic’s throat. More soul light spilled out, with more shrieks from the would-be hero. The children were too mesmerised to move, praying Anthony’s father would somehow be victorious. Dominic seemed to sense their hope. With his gleaming essence spattering on the ground, he pinned Crispin down.

  ‘You taste good!’ Crispin howled.

  ‘You want more? Then take it!’

  Dominic closed his eyes and a hidden voice willed him to bleed. The dazzling fluid pulsed from his throat and he imagined it becoming hot, so hot it would burst into flame at the slightest touch. It dripped onto Crispin’s coat and face, igniting in an instant. The blue light crackled and sparked, transformed into ravenous tongues of fire.

  ‘No!’ Crispin cried as the fire grew. ‘No! No! No! Not again!’

  Crispin panicked, kicking like a trapped mouse in the throes of death. The reflex only gave the flames more life and they twirled over the monster’s entire body. The force pushed Dominic back and he too watched in awe as the inferno consumed Crispin in seconds. There was a powerful explosion and then the master of ceremonies was gone.

  Dominic got to his feet, hand on his oozing throat, and glared at the other fiends.

  ‘You’re next!’ he told them.

  Rukus’s eyes slowly narrowed on Crispin’s murderer and flared with vengeance. Screaming from a dislocated maw, he ran headlong at Dominic, blade drawn. Dominic set his stance and caught Rukus’s flimsy wrist, twisting it behind the demon’s back and plunging it through his spine. The blade’s tip birthed from his chest.

  The candy-stripes of his vest bled, mingling with Dominic’s own ethereal blood. The light burned every black cell of Rukus’s existence until he too combusted, exploding in Dominic’s arms, the dust sifting through his fingers.

  ‘No!’ Kaskaraken cried, following in Rukus’s stead.

  Again Dominic was ready; he stretched out his right hand and the shape of a Colt revolver was made with the blue blood, cocked and ready.

  ‘Time to make you disappear – for good this time!’ he told the great magician.

  The radiant weapon erupted and a sliver of light – a bullet of light – passed through the magician’s skull. The surprise remained on Kaskaraken’s face even after he fell to the ground, forever dead.

  When he too exploded in a shower of sparks, Celeste screamed hysterically and turned to run. Dominic gave chase and cut her down with Rukus’s blade. Madeline, Anthony and the children averted their eyes as he cut her apart and dripped his soul upon each piece, sending it all to hell.

  And when his task was done he turned to smile at his wife and son, only to collapse under the weight of what he’d done.

  ~ Eleven ~

  Anthony ran to his father and gripped the lapels of his blood-soaked jacket until his knuckles turned white.

  ‘Dad? Get up!’ he begged.

  Dominic looked up at his son and put his hand on the boy’s cheek. ‘You’re safe now, buddy... the bad guys are all gone.’

  Anthony saw the pool of blue blood spreading beneath his father.

  ‘But Dad, you’re hurt!’

  ‘Don’t worry about me, Ant... I’ll be okay.’

  Anthony pulled on Dominic’s jacket. ‘No you won’t! You’re going to die and I don’t want you to!’

  Madeline crouched beside her son, her face slick with tears. ‘Anthony...’

  ‘No, Mom – he can’t die again! He can’t!’

  ‘Listen to me ...’

  ‘No!’ Anthony kept trying to lift his father, but he was dead weight.

  ‘Ant... Ant,’ his father said. ‘Shhh... Ant, it’s okay...’

  ‘Please, Dad, you have to get up!’ his tears mingled with his father’s blood.

  ‘I can’t buddy... I only had enough strength... to get rid of those freaks.’

  ‘But how, Dom?’ Madeline asked. ‘How could you have even come back?’

  He closed his eyes and swallowed. Anthony watched his father’s chest rising and falling; his breathing was getting slower and slower.

  ‘The monsters... they kept my soul on ice... fed off it... but it wasn’t enough,’ he explained. ‘Little did they know... I was feeding off them... at the same time.’

  Madeline frowned. ‘You’ve been here the whole time? Ever since...?’

  Dominic nodded. ‘They butchered me...’ He swallowed hard. ‘They put me... in that cage. But then he came to me... the sergeant... the sergeant who killed the troupe... all those years ago. He told... me... he’d been waiting... for me.’

  Madeline frowned. ‘What do you mean, Dom?’

  ‘The sergeant... and his men... after they’d murdered the troupe... returned to the battlefield. Many of them... died there... but the sergeant lived on... and raised his own children... trying to redeem himself. But... he couldn’t... while the troupe were trapped... here. When he finally died... his soul joined them in... the woods.

  ‘All I could do was think of you two.’ He looked to Anthony. ‘The sergeant helped me call to you every day... hoping you’d come... and you did.’

  ‘You made me come here?’ the boy said.

  ‘I didn’t... know if it would work, but the sergeant explained that... if I saw you again it would... give me the strength to escape. I’m sorry I put you through all this... but it was all I could think to do.’

  ‘Who is this sergeant?’ Madeline asked, desperate for answers.

  ‘His name... was Moore... Sebastian Moore,’ Dominic said, half-smiling and looking to his son. ‘You’re great.... great... grandfather.’

  Dominic let out a series of ragged coughs and Anthony saw to his horror that his father’s suit jacket now looked two sizes too big.

  ‘Can’t we do anything?’ Anthony cried.

  Dominic shook his head. ‘I’m so sorry buddy... not my call. You have to understand... I was never coming back for good.’

  Anthony wiped his eyes, but his vision continued to blur as tears replaced tears.

  ‘What am I going to do now, Dad?’

  ‘You’ve got your mom and she’s got you. You two... have to look after each other.’

  Madeline reached out and stroked her husband’s hair; there was ash on her fingertips when she pulled it away.

  ‘Thank you. Thank you for coming back to save our boy.’

  Dominic smiled. ‘He can save you too, Maddie... if you let him.’

  Madeline sobbed a wave of pent-up grief. ‘Oh Dom,’ she said. ‘Tell me what you were doing out here in the woods. Why were you here?’

  For a moment, Dominic’s face was a mask of shame, but he took in one last breath of courage.

  ‘The mill,’ he said, with barely a whisper. ‘I got... I was... laid off. I couldn’t find a way... to tell you... so I came here to think.’

  ‘Dominic, you know it wouldn’t have mattered – as long as we were all together,’ Madeline told him. ‘We would always find a way.’

  Dominic nodded in understanding, but his head began to loll on his shoulders; consciousness fading. His lips curled at one corner though, the barest of smiles.

  ‘Take care...’ he told them.

  Breath left him then and Anthony watched his father’s chest collapse. Stricken, Anthony threw his arms around Dominic in the tightest of embraces. Madeline bent to kiss her husband’s cheek.

  ‘I love you,’ she said.

  Before their eyes, Dominic Moore crumbled and broke – dust to dust, ashes to ashes.

  Finally free.

  *

  A week went by before Anthony’s mother said he could go back to school. The Monday morning was one of sunshine, which bathed every nook and cranny of the Moore home.

  Anthony bounded down the stairs into the kitchen, where he found his mother preparing lunch. She wore a pretty floral full-length dress, her luscious dark hair tied back in a ponytail. She greeted him with the brightest of smiles.

  ‘Hey there,’ she said. ‘I hope you like peanut butter and jelly – it’s all we’ve got at the moment until I go to town.’

  Anthony matched her smile. ‘Yeah, that’s great. Thanks, momma.’

  He grabbed the lunchbox and put it in his schoolbag. He was thinking about the day – the possibility of making new friends – when he felt his mother’s fingers in his hair. He leant into her touch and wrapped his arms around her waist. It was their first embrace in more than a year.

  ‘I love you, Mom,’ he told her.

  He looked up and watched a solitary tear roll down her cheek. ‘I love you too, Anthony.’

  With that, Anthony walked out the door and ran up the street towards Keaton town. He gave her one last smile over his shoulder and turned the corner. He waited, craned his neck and gazed back around the corner to the front door of his house, full of anticipation. A minute passed before his mother emerged and bounded down the stairs, the silver urn cradled in her arms.

  Anthony saw that smile on her face then; the smile born from love. Then he heard her say:

  ‘Come on, Dom, let’s take a walk in the woods.’

  Anthony knew then that although his father was gone, his spirit would always be with them; that everything would be okay.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Greg Chapman is a horror author and artist from Central Queensland, Australia. His first two novellas Torment and The Noctuary were published by Damnation Books in the United States in 2011. His short fiction has appeared in The Absent Willow Review, Eclecticism, Trembles, Morpheus Tales 2011 Christmas Special and Bete Noire. His comic book illustrations have appeared in Midnight Echo, Decay and Andromeda Spaceways Inflight Magazine. His first graphic novel, Witch-Hunts: A Graphic History of the Burning Times, written by Bram Stoker Award winners Rocky Wood and Lisa Morton, was also published by McFarland Publishers in May this year. Greg’s home on the web is www.darkscrybe.blogspot.com

 

 

  Greg Chapman, Vaudeville

 

 

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