Billy Moon

by Jim Corwell

 

     �Did you hear that?�

     Milly nudged Josh in the back and held her breath. He grunted but didn�t stir. She nudged him again and he turned over to drape his arm across her.

     �Listen...!� she whispered.

     A series of bangs came from downstairs and Josh�s eyes snapped open.

     �I thought so.� Milly jumped from the bed and hurried to the bedroom door. This was unbelievable. They�d only been in the house four days�hadn�t even finished unpacking everything�and they were being burgled! Welcome to Meadow Rising, she thought.

     Josh didn�t normally wake well, but this time he was over beside her pretty-damned-quick.  �What the hell are you doing?�

     What was she doing? �I thought I might go and make sure they only get the best stuff,� she said. �Whaddya think I�m doing? I�m gonna stop them!�

     Josh blinked slowly. �Dressed like that?�

     Milly�s short, but sweet, Sleepy Puppy nightshirt with floppy, bright yellow ears for boob-tassels wasn�t the best of deterrents. �Ah,� she said.

     Josh took charge. �You stay here�I�ll deal with it.�

     �Stay here? By myself?� That didn't work for Milly. �And what if they come up here?�

     Josh put his hand on her shoulder. �They have to get past me first.�

     His Homer Simpson boxer shorts were no more imposing than her nightshirt. �Oh, I feel safer already,� Milly said.

 

    

     Josh led down the darkened stairs and Milly stayed close behind him. Another crash came from the lounge as someone emptied drawers or tipped over packing boxes. A tell-tale flash of torchlight swept the hallway.

     Milly tapped Josh�s shoulder and signalled for him to wait. She�d read the best way to scare off a burglar was to turn on the light and make a noise, because no thief wanted to be caught.

     She hit the switch and shouted, �Is that you, Hank?�

     Hank? It worked. A man, dressed in dark colours and a black ski-mask, ran from the lounge, through the hall, and towards the kitchen.

     He could get out that way�through the back door and across the garden to the fields. Josh took the stairs down, two at a time, and Milly made sure she kept up.

     The man skidded on the kitchen floor and almost fell, giving Josh and Milly enough time to catch up. Josh hit the lights, and fluorescent flashes buzzed and sparked whiteness into the room.

     Milly hated guns�they didn't own one, they didn't need one�but there, on the worktop, was a shotgun. A hunting gun, she thought, blackened metal and dark wood. She grabbed it and took aim. It felt well-balanced and strangely comforting. �Hold it right there, Billy-boy,� she said.

     Josh looked more surprised than Milly felt, and mouthed �Billy-boy?� at her.

     The man froze at the back door and turned around slowly. His eyes glared at Milly through the tiny holes in the ski-mask.

     Milly gripped the gun a little firmer to reassure herself she was in full control of the situation. She wasn�t going to be discouraged�she had the gun. She waved the black metal barrels. �Mask,� she said. �If I�m going to blow your head off, I want to know what it looked like before I messed it up.�

     The words just came out, and Milly shuddered at the feeling of dominance that filled her. Josh wasn't so confident, and Milly could feel him shrinking back as if she�d just snatched a beefsteak from a hungry Rottweiler. 

     The man lowered his face and peeled off the ski-mask. He was bald; thick veins stood proud under his scalp, and he growled as he lifted his head.

     A deep, low, that�s-my-fuckin�-beefsteak growl.

     Milly swallowed hard. Suddenly, the shotgun didn�t make her feel so safe. If it wasn�t their gun, it had to be his gun. And, if it was his gun, he�d know if it wasn�t loaded. The man snarled, his eyes narrowed, his teeth grated and his nose wrinkled up, cutting deep crease-lines in his cheeks.

     This wasn�t good. Milly braced herself and Josh moved back.

     The man pounced. He ran directly at Milly, directly at the gun, shouting, �Go! Go! Go!� as he grasped the gun barrel and pulled.

     Milly screamed and the gun went off.

     It punched a fist-sized hole in his chest; a cloud of red exploded behind him and a smaller cloud sprayed forward. He flew backwards across the kitchen and before he hit the ground from the first shot, the gun�s second barrel emptied. His face and the side of his head flashed red, and he spun through the air in a bloody, aerial pirouette before crumpling to the kitchen floor.

     The kitchen had turned into a slaughterhouse from Milly's worst nightmares. Blood was everywhere: over the doors, the walls�even the ceiling�like some crazed artist's abstract tantrum; and it was all over Josh and Milly, too. They were both bathed in the same dark red blood mixed with stringy, jellified bits and clotted clumps like squashed black cherries. 

      Milly dropped the gun to the floor and staggered back from it. Her voice trembled. �Oh, fuck, what have I done...?� Blood dripped from her hair, down her brow and cheeks; her nightshirt, wet and red, hugged her body and blood trickled down her legs from its hem.

     Josh held her by the shoulders and lowered his head to look straight in her eyes. �Milly, it wasn't your fault.�

     Tears mingled with the blood on Milly's face. �But I killed him...oh, Jesus...I killed him...�

     Josh held her close. �I'll call the police,� he said. �That's all we can do now.�

     Milly nodded and Josh led her from the kitchen. As they stepped into the hallway, the nightmare that had started as a simple break-in became even more difficult to comprehend. They both froze in their step.

     Josh stood open-mouthed and confused.

     Milly looked at her hands as if she'd never seen them before. They were clean. Her nightshirt was unsoiled, and the booby-tassel ears were their usual silly, bright yellow. The splattered blood over Josh�s chest was gone and the pool that had formed at their feet was now dry carpet.

     Milly went back through the kitchen. She ran her fingers lightly along the shining stainless steel of the worktop and traced the gentle curve of the sink. Dry and clean. The man�s body was gone, the staining on the wall and the squashed black-cherry fragments hanging from the cupboards and door�gone. Everything was the way it should be. It was almost as if nothing had happened in there.

     Almost.

     There, scrawled on the window in dark, wet lettering that now drip-ran down the pane, was the word: �Go.�

 

           

     Little happened in the village that escaped discussion in Beth Cramley's store and, more often than not, it was Mavis Walters who started the discussions. Mavis was already in Beth's store for her daily gossip when Milly arrived. The bell over the door clunked and signalled a sudden end to the conversation. Milly smiled away the discomfort of feeling she was interrupting something.

     �If you need any help...� Beth said.

     �Thanks,� Milly said, �I just need a few things.� The store was poorly stocked. It was a small village; Milly figured with so few customers, the store only stocked what people needed. She squeezed a wrapped loaf and was relieved it felt fresh and soft. �We�ve just moved in up the hill and you know how it is�you always run out of the things you thought you wouldn�t need.�

     �In the village, are you?� Mavis said.

     Milly put the loaf on the counter and checked out the dried pasta. �Just outside. We�ve bought the farmhouse on Meadow Rising.�

     �Oh, Meadow Rising...� Mavis said. The two women looked at each other and Mavis gave Beth a �knowing� nod with raised eyebrows and tight lips.

     Milly smiled politely and tried to interpret the 'look'. �We saw the place and fell in love with it.�

     �Billy Moon�s old place.� Mavis blurted out. Her voice had more of a tone of warning than of simple comment.

     ...Hold it right there, Billy-boy...

     Milly shrugged and a shiver crawled along her arms. �Billy Moon?�

     Beth frowned at Mavis, disapprovingly. �It�s a nice house,� she said, �Good bit o�land with it, too. I�m sure you�ll be happy there.�

     Mavis wasn�t to be silenced. �He was a bad �un, he was. Alicia, now she was a lovely girl�the most beautiful golden-brown eyes you ever saw�but he treated her like dirt. She did everything for that man. Too much, if you ask me.�

     �Nobody�s asking you, Mavis.� Beth said.

     Milly wanted�needed�to hear more. She needed to know about �Billy Moon�, and smiled mischievously. �No, it�s all right. There�s nothing like a little scandal to add some colour to the day.�

     Mavis took up the gauntlet and ran with it. �A little scandal? He made her life hell. She was a strong-willed girl but he beat that out of her. Always liked to think he could control the women, did Billy, and Alicia gave in to him all the time. He was nothing special... she just had to stand up to him for once.�

     Milly had heard about the problems of rural wives. So far from any help, and some endured a lifetime of abuse. �So what happened to him? I mean, they moved on, right?�

     �Sort of,� Mavis said. �Billy had some debt problems and the farmhouse was all he had. They came to repossess it and Billy flipped. He killed Alicia�slit her from top to tail, they say�and then cut his own throat in front of the TV.�

     Milly�s heart sank in her chest and she felt suddenly nauseous. She�d wanted to know, but had never expected something so horrible, so violent, could have happened in there of all places.           �That was a long time ago,� Beth said. �We must�ve had at least three other families living there since then.�

     Mavis folded her arms and pursed her lips. �And we all know why none of them stayed, don't we?�

     Beth butted in. �People will tell you the place is haunted�but don�t you go believing everything you hear.�     

     Mavis was determined to have the last word. �Take my word for it: that�s Billy�s house,� she said. �One way or another, you'll go... he�ll make you go.�

 

 

     �Josh, it all adds up,� Milly said. �When he ran at me, he was shouting for us to �go�... then there's the writing on the window... and somehow he made me shoot him, Josh. He made me pick that gun up. He even made me know his name was Billy.�

     Josh rubbed his brow and puffed out his cheeks. �So you�re telling me we bought a haunted house?�

     Milly nodded. �And he�s trying to scare us out.�

     Josh leaned back in his office chair and the leather creaked. �So what do you want to do? We can pack up now and leave without losing anything...�

     Milly looked through the window and sighed. Their nearest neighbour was two fields and half a forest away, and hardly any traffic came up the dirt road to the farm; a pair of deer was foraging at the bottom of the garden; they came by every day, venturing out from the forest because they knew it was safe here, and Milly knew that, later, a dozen squirrels would be stopping-by to look for table-scraps. Compared with living on the London Circular, this was Heaven. �I love this place,� she said. �We belong here. I want to stay here forever. Can you think of anywhere better to bring up children?�

     �Children?� Josh said.

     Milly crossed to him. �This is the sort of place to grow up safely.�

     �But can you live with a ghost?� Josh said.

     Milly shrugged. �I don�t know. But this is our house. It's what we always wanted....�

     Josh nodded. �Then we stay,� he said.

 

 

     If Billy Moon wanted them out the house, he didn�t seem too determined about it. A week passed without event and Milly began to wonder if that one occasion had been his best shot at scaring them off. They�d weathered the worst he could throw at them and they were still there. They�d won.

     On their twelfth day at Meadow Rising, Josh spent his time in his makeshift study, with a calculator and a pile of audit records for a Leeds building company. They paid well, but the records were always less than perfect and it was a two, maybe three, day job putting their accounts in order and assessing the tax liabilities.

     Milly knew better than to hassle him. He needed to work and she was happier having him at home than commuting morning and night. She finished the unpacking, and busied herself tidying the gardens. They�d been left to grow wild for some time�tall spurt-weeds and stinging nettles had taken over, and three pine trees on the boundary had been storm-toppled and needed felling properly. Cut to size, the logs would be the perfect firewood for winter. 

     They ate late evening and Josh fell asleep on the sofa watching TV with Milly snuggled up against him. She ached from sawing and chopping the trees into manageable pieces. Josh was working up a snore and the Murder She Wrote re-run wasn't enough to hold her attention.

     �I�m going for a bath,� she said softly. A long, hot soak would wash away the aches. �You could always come up and join me...�

     Josh mumbled an �uh-huh�.

     Milly pecked him on the brow and went to run her bath.

 

     Sandalwood candles flickered on the corners of the bath and on the long shelf running above; Milly dribbled rose oil and lavender bubble-bath into the stream of hot water, and misty clouds swirled around the bathroom and puffed through the open door. She undressed in the bedroom and gathered together bathrobe and towels. A luxurious, foamy mountain of glistening bubbles had filled the bath when she returned.

     She eased herself into the foam, dipped her head beneath the suds then slowly re-surfaced and smoothed the water from her face and hair with her hands. Her skin tingled as the heat warmed deep into her muscles. She laid back and stretched full-length, with her head against the bath pillow and closed her eyes as she relished the near-weightlessness and total body warmth. She breathed slowly, deeply�inhaled the warmed vapours of rose and lavender through her nose and let her breath go, silently, through her mouth.

     When Josh came into the bathroom, she didn�t open her eyes. The soft glow of the candles flickering on her eyelids, the soothing effect of the rose and lavender, and the flush of enveloping heat were a sensory experience not to be broken.

     Her voice purred as she spoke. �Join me?� She parted her legs and bent them to make more room. He climbed in, and his hand drifted across her knee and down her thigh. She teased her foot along his leg and giggled softly. �You left your jeans on...�

     His jeans were rough...gritty...dirty, even.

     Milly�s eyes snapped open and she jerked back across the bath. Billy Moon grinned at her, his face black with bruising and decay. A dark, unsavoury gel oozed from the open gash across his throat, and a cowl of ruptured blisters covered his bald head.

     Milly screamed and scrambled to get out the bath. The oil and the suds took her legs away and she found herself beneath the water, eyes stinging and the foul, greasy taste of soap filling her mouth. She pushed hard�kicked out and clambered to her knees; her wrist cracked against the edge of the long shelf and she scattered candles with her arm as she struggled to latch onto it; she twisted, and Billy groped her legs and grabbed her hips, but she reached out with her other hand, gripped the corner of the shelf and pulled herself to her feet, up and out the water. She cowered back against the wall, her nakedness barely hidden by a skin of suds and foam that dripped and slid away all too quickly.

     �Nice tits, Milly,� Billy said. He sprung forwards and upwards, and a tidal wave, topped with foam, welled over the side of the bath. His body pressed against her, pinned her to the cold, tiled wall, and he ran his rough, black tongue across her breast.

     Milly screamed again�a full blooded, eyes closed and head-shaking scream that could easily have ruptured every blood vessel from her lungs upwards. Billy grinned and made a slurpy, clacking sound of appreciation.

     Josh crashed through the bathroom door and Milly leapt from the bath into his arms.

     Billy was gone...but a red welt was rising over Milly�s breast and shoulder.

     The welt read �Go�. 

 

    

     Josh stayed close by her for the rest of the evening. He suggested that maybe Billy was too strong, too dangerous. They couldn�t even start thinking about children with him around.

     Milly cried some; Josh was probably right and their best option was to cut and run; sell the farmhouse and hope to turn a quick profit, like all the others did.

     She took two Valium to help her sleep. She expected a dreamless sleep but her night was filled with haunting images of men in gowns filing up the hill that gave Meadow Rising its name...of witches, burned at the stake and buried on the land that was to become their home...of Billy Moon�s wife, Alicia, sliced open like a slaughtered pig, and left to drain over the kitchen sink...and of Billy, himself, taking a carving knife to his throat while watching a soap opera.

     She woke to the sound of a gentle wind blowing outside. It whispered �Go...� through the trees. The sun was up; light spilled through the curtains and fell in a bright, dagger-like shaft across the foot of the bed.

     Milly focused on the clock.

     5:21.

     She sighed and fell back to her pillow.

     �Go...� the wind whispered again.

     Milly blessed the wonders of modern tranquilisation and the gift of indifference they bestowed. Her eyes closed and she drifted towards a dream.

     Something touched her ankle. She twitched instinctively, and it was gone.

     A moment later: a faint trickle across her arm.

     Milly struggled to open her eyes. She squinted and blinked, expecting to see she had cut herself somehow, or a bead of perspiration running down her arm.

     What she saw was a fat, black fly crawling along her forearm. Its proboscis swept side to side, and back and forth, like a miniature metal-detector.

     Milly knocked it away and it buzzed into the air, hovered, then landed on her shoulder. Again, she knocked it away. This time, it hovered for a moment, circled and flew out of sight.

     Milly was about to close her eyes when the swarm descended.

     The blanket of thick-bodied flies hit her simultaneously, the loud buzz and drone of their wings announcing their arrival. They landed on her legs, thighs, arms, shoulders, throat and face; they scurried across her brow and cheeks; found their way up the short sleeves and bottom of her nightshirt, and down the front of the loose-buttoned collar. Their hairy legs twitched and jittered as they spread over her body like a black, leathery skin.

     She called out and leapt from the bed�frantically swept flies from her arms and legs, brushed the fat, black invaders from her nightdress and tried to shake them from the inside; as she dislodged them, they flew back at her�homed-in on her skin. They clung to her shoulders, scurried around the back of her neck, in and under her hair, and down the back of her nightdress.

     �Josh!� she screamed but Josh didn�t hear. Firm, wiry legs probed her nostrils, tugged her lips. She slapped her hands across her face and hard shells squashed beneath her fingers and smeared across her cheeks. �JOSH!�

     Josh rolled onto his back. He folded his arm behind his bald, blistered head and his throat gash bubbled black froth.

     Milly screamed and backed away, the swarm overwhelming her. She screamed and they scurried into her mouth, plugged her ears and filled her nose�fat, squat, jittery bodies invading in their hundreds. She slammed back against the bedroom wall and spun round and round, gasping for air and clawing at her throat as it blocked and swelled...

     ...and then they were gone.

     �Milly!� Josh was holding her, calling her name and shaking her by the shoulders as she screamed.

     She trembled and gasped for breath, as she saw Billy�s message and horror chilled her. Written on the wall was the word �go�. Not once, but hundreds, thousands, of times. Scrawled in ragged, bloody letters.

     Josh grabbed Milly's bathrobe and draped it over her shoulders. He pulled on his dressing gown and put his arm around her. �Come on,� he said, �He�s won�we�re leaving. We�re leaving now.��

 

      Milly stopped dead at the top of the stairs. She told herself what she was seeing was in her mind but her eyes still saw it: heavy cobwebs sagged across from banister to wall; the banister itself was covered in a green, moist mould and more phlegmy liquid oozed and dripped from the walls on the other side.

     She stepped back and shook her head. �I can�t, Josh...I can't.�

     �It�s not real,� Josh said. �You know it�s not real. Trust me...� He took her hand and led her forward.

     Milly�s breathing quickened, her heart hammered, but she knew Josh was right � it wasn�t real. Billy Moon was playing with her mind, controlling her.

     ...Always liked to think he could control the women...

     Webs brushed over her face, clung to her hair and wrapped over her mouth; her hand drifted against the wall and cold, wet slime stuck to her wrist then circled and slithered up her arm. Milly balled her fists and tried not to give in to Billy Moon's will.

     At the foot of the stairs, she stopped. The hall was carpeted with bugs and beetles and centipedes that wriggled and scurried over each other, rushing in every direction.

     Josh stepped down and shells crunched beneath his bare feet. �They�re not real, Milly,� he said. �They�re not real.�

     He coaxed her onwards but Milly gently, calmly, drew her hand away. �No�wait,� she said. This wasn't right. Billy wanted them out and he wanted to make sure they didn�t come back. Damn him, this was her house now. She straightened up and breathed in, composed herself. �Josh, I�ve never been afraid of beetles or webs or flies or anything, have I? Who is it has to rescue the spiders from the bath and set them free?�

     Josh smiled. �That�s my gal.�

     �It�s him. He�s making me think I�m afraid.� She gently placed a foot on the floor. Beetles flowed across and around her ankle. If they had been real, her only emotion would have been guilt at killing some of them needlessly. Guilt�but never fear.

     �Oh yeah,� Josh said and grinned big�but, without warning, the grin became a silent, anguished cry and Josh lifted into the air. Billy stood behind him, a single hand gripping Josh�s neck.

     �Oh yeah?� Billy said, and white, wriggling creatures crawled from his mouth.

...she just had to stand up to him...

     Milly gritted her teeth and spat the words out as she looked Billy straight-in-the-eye. �This is my house, Billy-boy.�

     Billy�s lip curled up and he threw Josh to the side. �Come on,� he said and beckoned Milly with both hands. �You want some of Billy, do ya?�

     Milly shook her head, slowly, and moved closer to him. �No�I want all of Billy.�

     Billy grinned and as they came face to face, his black tongue flicked across his lips. �I just love it when you talk dirty.�

     Milly lunged forward. She pushed her fists hard and firm at Billy's chest and screamed, �Get Out!�

     Billy�s face wiped over with surprise. Milly's fists sank into his chest, bones crunching under her knuckles. Her blow lifted into the air and threw him backwards across the hall, to slam against the wall on the far side.

     Billy stood slowly and snarled as he tensed up. Instantly, he reappeared in front of Milly and grinned at her, defiantly.

     She recognised the fake smile on his sickening face: he was worried.

     He growled and swung his fist at her head. Milly gasped�winced and turned her head away from the expected blow�but his hand passed through her and he roared a frustrated cry of anger.

     Milly lunged again: both fists, firm and determined. �This is my house,� she shouted and Billy flew backwards, screaming. He slammed against the wall and reappeared.

     She had him! She lunged again and again and again. With each push, she took a step forwards and with each successive step she became more confident, her push firmer, more determined.

     �This...� SLAM! 

     �...is...� SLAM!

     �...my...� SLAM! 

     �...house...� SLAM!

     �Get out!� SLAM!

     �Get out!� SLAM!

     �Get out!� SLAM!

     Step-by-step, she edged Billy across the hall, towards the door and, on her final lunge, the front door burst open. A howling, chilly wind tore through the hall. It roared with the sound of a thousand screams and cries of pain and Billy rose into the air, lifted on the wind, as disembodied hands lashed out at him, slashed at his body with clawed fingers, and tore at his flesh. He threw back his head in an agonised, terrified cry as the drone of the flies grew louder and louder. The swarm gathered above him, circled in the air, filling the hall with their vile, fat, twitching bodies; circling and searching frantically...looking to feed.

     Milly dived to the floor and crawled to Josh. He held her down, protecting her from the lashing wind and the bullet-like flies whipping past.

     The hands gripped Billy: held him by his arms and legs, restrained his shoulders, pulled back his head and prised his jaw wide open. In a sudden, violent surge, the flies funnelled into his mouth and Billy swelled and bloated; his stomach stretched and distended, his cheeks puffed out and his face ballooned.

     Milly screamed and clung tightly to Josh; she didn't want to see the unfolding horror, but she needed to know Billy was gone�gone for good. A deep, rumbling cry filled the air and Billy floated helplessly towards the open door. He lashed out wildly and his fingers caught hold of the doorframe and locked tight. His grotesquely swollen body lifted behind, up into the air, pulling against his grip. �My house!� he screamed and a thousand flies spilled from his lips; �My house!� and his fingers edged back along the frame, losing their hold.

     Milly shook her head. �No,� she said, her voice almost inaudible against the wind. �This is my house now.�

     Billy howled. His body ripped in two and the thousands of flies bursting free from his torso clung to his fingers and pulled them from the doorframe. Billy whisked up into the air�turning, spinning, screaming. He disappeared from view and the door slammed shut.   

           

 

     �Do you think he�s gone for good?� Josh said.

     Milly snuggled into him and he wrapped his arm around her. The flickering light from the fire threw shadows across her face. She nodded. �I think we�ve heard the last of Billy Moon.�

     Josh gave her a loving squeeze. �He didn�t know what he was getting into when he took you on,� he said.

     Milly frowned at him, teasingly. �And what�s that supposed to mean?�

     He grinned and mimicked the gun: �Hold it right there, Billy-boy.�

     Milly laughed. �I don�t know what came over me�I was like a woman possessed.�

     Josh held her close and kissed her brow. �All things considered, using the word �possessed� might be tempting providence.�

     Milly laughed again and rested her head against his chest. The warmth of the fire was so relaxing, and for the briefest of moments, in the flickering light, her eyes glittered with the most beautiful golden-brown you ever saw.

     She knew this was going to be her home...forever.